My Childhood Revisited

One windy Sunday afternoon, returning to my hostel room, all dressed in formals for an early morning presentation that made me wait for an eternity, I was enthralled by the presence of numerous kites of all colors right above my head. I searched for the source of the string, where it originated, and was thrilled to see that it was in the hands of a student in a lawn in my very campus. In fact there were hoards of people who were trying their hands at flying the kite. It was an informal event in our annual fest, Manfest. And boy I was glad. I could have hugged the person who came up with the concept of kite flying as an informal event. Instead, I ran towards the registration desk to find out whether I could participate or not. It was an indirect way of asking for the place where the inventory of kites and “charkhis” were stored. I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer anyway. On locating the inventory, I made a dash for it, much to the bemusement of the people enjoying their afternoon lunch in the open air canteen, the one I just ran through. I cared little for those looks. I was elated to see many kites strewn about in a cardboard box. I instinctively picked up the most colorful one, found thread to bind its “kanne” and raced towards the lawn, forgetting that I had forgotten to pick up the “manja” without which the kite could not take to the sky. On realizing my mistake, I ran back. I’m sure the speed at which I was running (un-necessarily) would have put any athlete to shame. Nothing could stop me now. Except the non availability of “manja”. “We ran out of it”, was the organizer’s evasive reply when I demanded it to be made available to me ASAP. “Maybe you can fly it with someone”, was his solution to the problem. So I ran my eyes across the field to see who I knew in the sea of people and could be coaxed into giving up his/her thread to me. As my luck would have it, I found just the guy. His unsuccessful attempts at flying the kite were amusing as he ran one side then the other, the kite barely lifting off the ground. I didn’t volunteer to help him. I knew that another 2 minutes at it and he would tire or the kite would tear apart or both could happen. And as per my wishes, the kite paper could bear no more of the violence and in one crisp tear, made the kite unusable. I was elated. You might think that it was devilish of me to act in such a manner. But then “kite ke liye kuch bhi karega”. I took his “manja” from him, half sympathizing with him and tied it to my kite which was ready by my side. The wind was brisk and in no time I had it in the sky. I was as if I was reliving my childhood. All the past memories flooded back to me….

- My old Delhi house, three storied at that time and one of the tallest in the neighborhood proved unparalleled kite flying experience. I remembered my father by my side, teaching me the tips and tricks of the trade. I remember I used to keep looking heavenwards, hours at a stretch at the many kites that filled up the evening sky like a pack of bees. I remembered that I used to cry myself hoarse with shouts of “i-bokate” when we won the battle of the kites, called “pench”. I remember accompanying my dad to the kite vendor. Fighting with him when he used to offer less thread than he should have for the money that we paid him. I still remember that turning, the face of that shopkeeper who used to sit in the shop and patiently listen to me as I made a hue and cry of everything under the sun. And I remembered that I had cried for hours when a guy near my house had used a stone and thread to intercept my kite in mid flight, and taken it away from my control.

- I remembered me flying kites all alone on the terrace, shooing away my brother who was inept at the art of kite flying and my cousins who used to be an irritant as they got the thread all mangled up. I remembered how I used to climb up the water tank above my terrace, precariously, and in complete disregard of all my relatives shouting at me not to do it.

- I remember moving to a new society, and watching from the glass windows as people flew kites from what was now the 8^th floor of our apartment block. I remember how, despite my fever, I summoned all strength to hail a “rickshaw”, travel some distance from our flats and buy the kites and thread and then finally fly them, amongst complete strangers, sometimes aggressive, on the 8^th floor. And I remember how I made some friends just by this kite flying ritual that I performed every evening, more regularly than anyone else

- I remember my friends telling me to study for the boards next day and me concentrating all my efforts on flying kites. I remember the dreams I had, of intense battles between kites, and how I managed to steer my kite away from the heat of battle, to take on opponents one at a time. I remember the sometimes, me being the only one flying the kite in the evening. I did not need anyone on those occasions as well. I used to have clouds as temporary barriers and used to circle my kite around, I used to try and take my kite near birds that came in view, it was an enthralling experience even without another kite in the sky. I remember….

I remember so much more. My happiness has no bunds. Kite flying made me remember my childhood like never before. I knew then what I had missed for so long. That one piece of rectangular paper, and brightly colored thread had so many memories wrapped around them, it feels makes me feel like I’m 11 again……..

Chak De India!!

It’s 1 at night and I have nothing to do. At home and comfy, I have the option to sleep obviously, but all the days of the last semester have perhaps taken their toll on my sleep glands (I know there is no such thing). So I sit here, chatting away, when even the chat friends disappear one by one, busied by their own tasks. One chat friend after ridiculing my team (meaning the football team I support) goes to prepare for his early morning presentation of some case. The other says be right back and forgets to come back after half an hour, then another bids adieu as his mom calls him for some late night chore. And so I sit here. Nothing particular to do. I therefore engage in this activity called blogging that some of my friends call atrocious (by the fact that I am not that good at it). By I believe that practice makes perfect or its increases the standard of work at the least. It’s part of the “learning curve” as we say in management jargon.

So my topic of today’s effort is a movie called “Chak De India”. A cheesy name tag I thought at first. The songs were uninspiring when they came out and the promos were less than convincing. Usually I give such movies a miss. But this time I am glad that I went along with my friends for a screening. And what a movie it turned out to be. More inspirational than most Hollywood movies I have seen (yes I set Hollywood movie as the benchmark, don’t kill me for that). And yet the movie was enjoyable. Rarely have I seen such good acting performances from a bunch of nobodies. The do the job perfectly. The reason I am writing about this movie today (a full fifteen days after I first watched it) is because I went and saw it on the big screen again today, this time with my parents. The motivation for me to go and watch it for the umpteenth time (I saw it umpteenth-2 times on the laptop) was to show it to my parents and revel as they enjoyed it. Somehow, the fact that they enjoy something makes me even happier. So off I went with them, driving like mad, jumping queues (which was justified as I had pre-booked the tickets and just had to collect them) much to the annoyance of the people standing in the queue for long, just so that they would not miss the opening.

As I went through the emotion of watching the movie again, I saw many subtle points that I had missed on my previous viewing. And it was a whole new experience. Where the last time the theatre was silent right through the movie, this time, there were peals of laughter (many a time at inopportune instances which was irritating), and genuine clapping when the climax of the movie was revealed. I would say this has been a much better movie experience than the last time around (a large Pepsi and butter popcorn certainly helped the matter). And now that the spectacle is over, I reflect on some of the most powerful scenes that I have seen in Hindi movies for a long time. Like the one where the men’s hockey team salutes the women’s team for their gutsy performance against them, or the scene where little Komal Chautala passes the ball to her arch rival (in terms of goals scored that is) Preeti for her to slot home the equalizer in the final stages of the world cup final match against Australia. Great movie, great background music (including the tracks that appeared so cacophonous when listened to before I saw the movie); I guess this should surely get its star cast a host of awards at the annual film festivals. Perhaps this movie will make it to the Oscars as well. But then win it will surely not, because the emotion that egresses our hearts when we see the females fight it out against all odds and against a male chauvinist society like India’s will not be appreciated fully by the judges coming from contrasting cultures. But whether it reaches the Oscars or not or whether it is even considered or not, I must say that it has been a pleasure watching the movie, and is certainly one of the classics that I have seen in the past year.

IIM-L : Analysis Part 1

All through my stay here, i have come across people of diversity that has enabled me to grasp the real meaning of the word. And when i say diversity, i mean a diversity of attitudes. Here is the documentation of a few such attitudes:

1. People who live in a superiority complex. Every action of theirs revolves around the single objective of maintaining superiority. And that need not always be a bad thing. It adds within a fire always to win and the seeds of a never-say-die attitude are sown. Yet these people also live in a fool's paradise. Being good in one field is not good enough and they want ( and not aspire ) to be known as the authority in all fields. And this sometimes gives rise to a i-am-the-best syndrome in situation where clearly the person is not. Such people also desire to be praised and hence talk a lot about themselves.

2. People who have a single minded focus on a task at hand and will try and fulfill it by all means possible. Such types put in an inordinate amount of effort often without a corresponding result. But try they always do. People like these often skip parties and jaunts with friends to study. The fun of being here is lost on them. People like these sometimes irritate people like us (and i will not describe my type ) by submitting work when no-one else has done it. They become stressed by academic activities which also form the majority of their discussions.

3. Then there are the i-do-not-care type. And these type scare me the most, especially when they are part of my assignment team. i shudder to think what kind of performance would they put up in companies when taking up responsibilities is as alien a concept to them as any.

4. The genuine studs, and there are a few of such people around. Their minds work in a different stratosphere and is as sharp as a needle. They might appear to be laggards, often missing classes for no ostensible reasons, sleep all day and still be groggy when they wake up but when it comes to decision making, they present an angle many would never have fathomed. Clarity of thought is evidenced in their arguments which are mostly foolproof. They garner a lot of respect due to these god gifted abilities and generally don't squabble over such insignificant things as marks.

Then there are many many more, but then it's time now for me to wind up this part and indulge in an activity that i have come to consider the most important in any MBA's life -- watching movies.

Can you believe it...Pluto no longer a planet!!! Ramifications of this are just unimaginable. Some of them have been listed below:

1. First and foremost playing with the minds of people like us who have devised mnemonics to remember the names of all the planets there are in the solar system. Now we will have to devise some all over again.

2. Shattering dreams of so many people living near the equator of shifting to cooler climes of Pluto in the near future. Well they will have to do with Neptune instead. That is unless the scientists decide to downgrade it as well.

3. NASA's plans to send a probe to the farthest planet - Pluto. Well, they will in a sense save money by not having to send their probe so far off. I don’t think they will waste money on just an asteroid now.

4. The NDA and Congress will now have to make changes in the science textbooks again. What a boring job. No communalization issues no nothing. That is unless some religious sect comes up with a way of politicizing it.

5. One hurt pride of the guy on the left. He will have to be content with downgrading of his name now.

A good strategy

In an era of intense competition in any and all industries, this is i guess a time tested strategy to advertise. Pick up a subject that is controversial and the media will do the rest. And yes, the bloggers play their part as well. This is something akin to the film industry where there is a controversy erupting before the release of any movie to grab the public's attention. I guess this guy's strategy is woking to perfection so far...

A bird song

I dream that I’m drowning out,
I try to swim, to yell and shout,
But my cries do go in vain,
As nobody comes to alleviate my pain.

Oh apathetic world do hear my voice,
I am here not by my own choice,
I don’t remember how I reached this place,
All I remember last is a deathly face.

Long far off I see a ship,
Maybe some gay souls on a leisurely trip,
I wave and I shout trying to draw it near,
What if it leaves I am gripped by fear.

I see bright light and two loud bangs,
Here my life in the balance hangs,
And then the tide turns, there is a large wave,
Coming menacingly towards me, is this my grave.

I close my eyes and wait the end,
I end my struggle, what use to fend,
But still in my heart I pray and I hope,
That let not this be the end of the rope.

So many dreams that had to be covered,
So may avenues remain undiscovered,
And I am still so young, it’s too soon to go,
I need some time to let my thoughts flow.

A kind voice that echoes in my head,
Reminds me of what my dad once said,
Have all fun before the sunset,
So that when life ends, you have no regret.

And suddenly I’m embraced by peace and calm,
I instinctively know I’m out of harm,
I open my eyes to the chirp of a bird,
Don’t worry my dear, your message I heard.