This post is authored as I sit in a flat in Mumbai with dollops of time to spare and a laptop which refuses to install ‘Counter Strike: Condition Zero’ no matter how many times I bang my head on the table and plead for mercy to the IBM Gods.
As a result, the post is slightly longer than my usual posts, but I have made sincere efforts at keeping it interesting. Do read. :)
------ Let me recall the events of my last few hours at Nirma.
Anyone who thinks packing bags is an easy business hasn’t obviously met me. I have been told that I have the most exasperated look on my face when such an eventuality occurs. In fact, I keep getting this uneasy feeling that people are reminded of dear old Uncle Podger who hung a picture upon the wall (for further references, please read “Three Men In A Boat” by Jerome K. Jerome).
I am almost certain that I must cut a sorry figure while packing, what with running from one end of the room to another, picking up an article, thrusting it wildly into a bag, scurrying to another part of the room, only to realize that perhaps it would be better if the article already tossed into the bag should indeed be packed in the carton which is to be couriered.
If any further proof is required of the fact that things can go horribly out of control when I’m packing, let me cite the example of last year when I had to pack my bags before leaving for my summer internship. I had projected that I would leave the hostel by 3 in the afternoon. As expected, the packing Gods didn’t approve of my projected figures and my friends heaved a mighty sigh of relief when I finally left the hostel at 11 at night.
Going by my track record (late by 8 hours on the previous occasion), the crime this time around was definitely excusable. I was late by a meagre 2 hours; I had planned to have my bags packed and left the hostel by 9pm, but could not leave till 11.
Of course, Dolphin was partly to blame. The moment she saw me wearing my red-and-white t-shirt, she grimaced in a manner which would’ve made Jeeves proud when he didn't approve of an article of clothing worn by Bertie Wooster. And in order to ensure that I would never again have the happy privilege of wearing the particular t-shirt, Dolphin simply asked for a pen and promptly proceeded to write a good-bye message on the shirt itself. This was encouragement enough for everyone around to jump in and write their ‘love-you’ and ‘goodbye Rupa’ messages. It was a good twenty minutes more before I could step into the waiting auto-rickshaw. However, it was worth the wait. I love that shirt now and am going to treasure it forever. :))
But it didn’t take more than 2 hours in Bhaiya’s house that night for me to realize that I was now on a different plane altogether. Mom and Dad hit the sack around midnight (they were awake only since I had been late in arriving home) and when Bhaiya wished me good-night around 1 in the morning, the house plunged into darkness and silence. To think that Sahu Sahab and I had made a daily routine of going down for a cuppa of tea at 2 in the morning!! Wow!! This DEFINITELY felt weird.
I felt as if 2 years ago, I had been plucked off from this (so called) normal planet and had been placed on a different one where not only were you responsible for everything you did, but you were also certain that no matter what happened, you would have a rollicking time. Sitting in the darkened hall, I could almost see the two years zip by right in front of my eyes.
The next day was Convocation day and boy was it fun. The best part about the day had to be us roaming around in the boys hostel wearing our convocation robes. All of us were in a crazy mood that day as we’d realized that this was our last opportunity to hang out like a bunch of happy-go-lucky characters. We had a gala time walking the ‘ramp’ and doing the ‘Reservoir Dogs’ walk in our convocation robes. [Crab even did a special Muzaffarnagar dance, details of which cannot be provided on blogs such as these which are meant to provide wholesome reading material for the entire family].
It was while these crazy deeds were being executed that I realised that I just HAD to spend the last night at the hostel and not at Bhaiya’s place in the city.
Wise decision. I got to take a tour of the most coveted real-estate property on the Nirma campus, i.e. the Girls’ hostel. ~wink~
It so happened that some of the girls convinced the girls’ hostel warden to allow them to visit the boys’ hostel. Now, since we had all convocated that very evening, we were technically not students anymore. And that, ahem, gave us the license to roam around. So, even before the girls battalion could move into our hostel, we attacked theirs. I had the privilege of visiting just two rooms, that of the Dolphin and the Piranha. Motee had already vacated her room, and poor Dolphin was left all alone to do her packing [She left with a record 8 bags the next day]. And true to her character, the room was a mess. To be honest, Whale and I looked at the room with a certain sense of pride in knowing that the Dolphin had come somewhere close to keeping her room as untidy as we had in the last one year together.
Next was Piranha’s room, which was, as expected, clean and a shocking contrast to Dolphin’s. Utterly neat (ouch!) and almost a hotel-room like feel is what all three of us (Sahu Sahab, Whale and I) felt.
Later that night, after the girls had visited our hostel, we decided we didn’t give two hoots about the boys’ hostel warden’s calls of returning to the hostel before midnight. Most of the gang was outside on the benches and on the lawn. The poor hostel warden had to keep getting up at regular intervals in any case, since many of the hostel-ites had trains and flights scheduled at odd hours.
The next afternoon, I too left the hostel along with the Whale. And with that auto-rickshaw ride on the Sarkhej Gandhinagar Highway, my life as a student of the Institute of Management, NirmaUniversity officially came to a close.
One evening, after a marketing prof. introduced us to the world of blogs. Fascinated, that night I started this blog from the confines of this hostel.
So, as I pack up my laptop and gaze at the tonnes of baggage that has been packed before I vacate this hostel forever..
THANK YOU NIRMA BOYS HOSTEL.... I found the warmth of a place called 'home' here. Thanks for all the wonderful memories that shall always bring forth a smile, a chuckle and even the occasional tear.
In my two years of MBA education, I thought I'd seen it all. And just when one thought that everything there was to be seen and done had been achieved, there was just that one little thing that needed to complete the picture. I realised that most of my friends at this b-school had been part of one small road accident or the other (most of them, thankfully, not very serious). ~wink~ Today, was my turn.
So, a friend of mine and me were on this Kinetic Zoom when we skidded on this patch of sand and landed, face first, on the ground. Thankfully, none of the cars nearby rolled right over us and we were up in a jiffy. In fact, we were pretty lucky to have gotten away with just minor bruises. I managed a slight cut on my right knee to show for the evening's efforts. Even better was my friend, who immediately stood up and after casting a look at all the dust on his clothes, looked up dismayed at me and announced, "Yaar, kapde dhone pad jayenge!" ("Dude, I'll have to wash the clothes.") The next instant, the two of us were in complete splits and the onlookers were (I think) left wondering if these two nutcases had suffered serious injuries to the skull. :D
Anyway, ~deep intake of breath~ the MBA draws to a close and I've emerged victorious from a battle (of the mind?) which, I must admit, got almost too close for comfort. ~phew~ Friends who've been close to me have witnessed the nervousness and anxiety that I used to feel from time to time. In the end, I knew there was no one else but I who was responsible for putting myself into a difficult position. Like I said to a benevolent professor who offered to lend me a ear, it was again no one else but I who could draw myself out of the mess.
And work myself out of my troubles I did!! There was blood, toil and sweat (Sorry to disappoint you Mr. Churchill, but there were just no tears). Tell you what... it was all worth the fight in the end. The very man who predicted my doomsday congratulated me this evening on a brilliant performance. The same man who had told me that I was fast hurtling towards failure gladly shook hands with me and told me [not in as many words, I admit; but then, I'm a dreamer, and a dreamer who has just won has the liberty to dream these words ;) ] that I had the mettle of a winner.
Some have told me, in jest of course, that I should've laughed at him or reminded him mockingly of his prediction that I was headed for failure.
The truth is that I did remind him. And frankly, I couldn't be more thankful to the gentleman. If it hadn't been for that one statement which put the fear of the worst-case scenario in me, I don't think I would've pushed this hard. True, I couldn't sleep peacefully for days in a row and had the most harrowing nightmares of living the failure that had been promised to me. However, if it hadn't been for that feeling of cold sweat on my forehead, I don't think I would have excelled in the manner in which I did.
And so: 'Thank you Sir for your unkind words. That was simply the BEST thing that you could've done for me.'
Like all victories, though, there is more than just one person to whom the victory can be attributed. This victory, too, wouldn't have been possible without my parents, Aunt Patricia, and all my friends who stood by me and supported me. They did all that they could, either by doing their little bit in finishing excellent group project work or by giving their words of encouragement and hope. I can't end this post without thanking 'Bulla', 'Herbert', 'Horatio', 'Biscuit', 'Whale', Sam, 'Basanti', 'Piranha', 'Gola', 'Dolphin', 'Mr. President', Sahu Sahab, Motee, Sudhanshu, 'Pappu' and of course, 'Baap'. Thank you folks.
Perhaps for the last time on this blog, I must also mention 'her'. I must thank 'her' for the encouragement she provided and the promise she made me make.
(Although our paths have parted for some time now, you were among the first few persons I thought of when I knew I'd won. May God be with you. And yes, I shall keep my promise. ~smiles~)
Yesterday was a day which I could not come to terms with easily. It was after quite a few days when I had absolutely nothing to do. No classes, no preparations for exams... nothing at all !!!
Yesterday was also one of the more misty-eyed days here at Nirma. Friends-in-arms, co-conspirators in pranks and people with whom one can spend an entire afternoon without worrying about the going-ons around you...all of them left for home one by one. I was surprised by how lonely I felt at the end of the day when I realised that so many of my friends had gone back home and that the hostel resembled an empty fortress more than anything else.
Mini 'Dolphin', Whale and the Piranha, all left by the afternoon bus. So did Sudhanshu. Later in the evening, I accompanied Sexy Sam to drop Basanti off at the Kalupur railway station. Right through all this, there was a voice in my head which kept on saying "Hey, before you know it, it'll be the first of next month, and they'll all be back." It wasn't before Baap (err...that would be my friend Neeraj; his nick-name at the insti. is Sabka Baap, or 'Baap' for short) knocked at my door at 2 in the morning to say goodbye (he had a flight at 6) that I realised how empty the hostel had become.
The Whale, before leaving, had his revenge from me though. :D
For the uninitiated, Tushar (aka The Whale) was my room-mate for the last one year. And on numerous occasions have I left him waiting outside the room while I was somewhere on this 140-acre campus with the only keys to the room. Well, yesterday, after we loaded his stuff onto the college bus that was supposed to take them to the railway station, Whale realised that he had forgotten a blanket at the room. I gave him the keys and he rushed upstairs. By the time he came back, I was busy saying my good-byes to the rest of the gang. And the nutcase that he is, he too forgot about the keys.
It was only after the bus actually started off that I remembered that the room-keys were still with him. That bloody idiot!!! I ran after the bus shouting his name, but the bus had already gathered speed. I gave up the chase and called up Mini to ask Tushar to throw the keys out of the window. Before that could happen, though, I had to run behind the bus for a good 100 metres. That !@#%!$@!#$@. Wait till he comes back.
I started reading "By the river Piedra I sat down and wept" by Paulo Coelho at around midnight yesterday. Finished reading the book at 3. Would have finished by 2 or 2:20, but slowed down owing to the break in the middle to have a final chat with Baap before he left. Kinda ok book, nothing great.
Ok then... Me off to Goa today evening with a bunch of 5 other equally idiosyncratic and crazy folks. Will be back on the 24th.
Till then... ciao, take care and make your Momma proud!! :D
Though neither of my parents ever told me this specifically, my upbringing has given rise to a conscience within me. That very same conscious screams and tells me that what I have done today was a grave sin, yet I had no option but to do it.
I tore up a book into little pieces with my own hands.
I know what I've done is wrong and pray to God that I never have to do it again.
[PS: Just to clarify, I don't feel guilty at my having torn the book, just extremely sad that I had to do it. And yeah, mixed with the feeling of sadness was an insane feeling of pleasure, that though it was such a difficult thing for me to do, I managed to overcome emotions and actually tear that particular book. The book that was torn was symbolic of events of the past which, though cannot be erased, must be shoved into the dark recesses of the mind.]
Saturday marked a speed-breaker in the exam schedule for the second year students. After the consecutive exams on Friday and Saturday, we had the much needed break on Sunday, which meant that Saturday evening was free for the juniors to organise the farewell celebrations.
And so, even though I was tired and dead sleepy (having slept for just 2 hours before the Business Laws paper), I druggedly walked into the auditorium. Well, titles for all the senior students had been thought up, keeping in mind their personality, their traits and their habits during the last 2 years.
Here's what came up when my name was to be announced:
"dyNIMite Shekhar Ruparelia BOOKS BOOKS BOOKS He has got menacing looks Directed movies, has a good voice Book Club's undisputed choice"
[The NIM in dyNIMite stands for Nirma Institute of Management]
Actually, the guy reading out the title told the audience that he would read out the title one line at a time, and that they should guess who the fellow was. No sooner had he read out "Books, Books, Books.", my friends started calling out my name. :))
This session was followed by a lavish dinner on the college grounds, and then came the dance party. Now, those of you who know me personally would vouch for the fact that I'm the kind of fellow who wouldn't be dragged by twelve wild horses to any area within a hundred square kilometres of a dance floor. But, Saturday was different.
It was time to hit the dance floor and do what I'd never done before: Chill out in the midst of a crowd of 123 budding managers, cheer loudly at the songs that were being played, sing along, and throw my hands and legs about wildly.
[For those of you who had to submit yourself to the wild sights of me dancing like a man possessed, my apologies. It was 10% caused by the fact that I had had very little sleep and 90% because I was in the company of such unbelievable friends. YEAH BABY !!]
All right, I'm through with two of my exams and two remain. And like they say, well begun is half done and I'm now confident that I'll carry through with the effort in the remaining two exams.
One of the benefits of having a metropolitan upbringing is that you're exposed to the best of all cultures, religions and beliefs. I've specially been attracted to the various religious beliefs and religious texts such as the Bhagwad Gita, the Holy Bible, the Holy Quran and the Guru Granth Sahib.
Day before yesterday, I called up an Aunt in Calcutta. When I told her that though I was confident of doing well, yet couldn't overcome the feelings of dread and nervousness [Jeez!! I sound like a high-school student :D], she instantly recommended that I read Psalm 91.
Here's what's been inspiring me and amazing me with its simplicity and beauty over the last 48 hours:
Psalm 91
1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
2 I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust."
3 Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness, nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you make the Most High your dwelling— even the LORD, who is my refuge-
10 then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread upon the lion and the cobra; you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."
Alternate Title: "If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run" I've been irregular here with a reason. End-term examinations start from tomorrow, 9th March. Last MBA exams, and to be honest, these exams are gonna be a toughie.
And since it is an evening of being honest, let me (be human and) admit that I've been troubled for a few days now. (Motee spotted it the other day and asked 'what you thinking about??'.) Well, what else do you expect from a guy like me who's gotten into this (bad?) habit of thinking too much all the time, huh? ~grins~
I kinda got worried today morning when I realised that I'd seen myself smoking a cigarette in my dreams last night. I could vividly remember the smell of burning tobacco, the sensation as I allowed the smoke to enter my system and envelope my lungs and the puff of smoke that I exhaled, I remembered all of it with an eerie ease. This is the second time in the last month that I've seen such a dream, and frankly, it scares me. Appropriately so, for I've never smoked a cigarette in my life. Having seen how Dad suffered 'coz of his lifelong habit, I'd vowed early on that I would never ever smoke.
Anyway, let me not turn this into a post where everything looks dark and gray, for that is certainly not what is the truth here !! Accepted that there's very little to think about these days apart from studies, syllabus, exam schedule...I don't have the leisure time to think about other stuff (and how thankful I am for that!!).
Yet, life is fun when you know you can listen to brilliant songs with beautifully worded lyrics. What the heck !! Imagine this... a guy washing his clothes in a deserted bathroom at 2 in the afternoon and loudly singing "Khudi ko kar buland itna" (the Junoon version), and suddenly, his loud chanting is joined by a couple of other folks who've walked in. Get the picture?? Well, that's what a guys' hostel is all about !! :D
Although I'd promised to keep myself away from books (non-acads books, that is) till the end of examinations, I just couldn't help flipping through the first few pages of "Man's search for meaning" by Viktor E. Frankl. It's a psychiatrist's account of time spent in Nazi death camps. To quote from the back-cover, "at the core of his theory is the belief that man's primary motivational force is his search for meaning."
I smiled...
...and recalled the following lines from a previous post:
"I kept staring at the picture of Kali Ma (the photograph is a capture of the deity at Kalighat Temple, Calcutta) and wondering what the purpose of life was. Somehow, I felt that I was just wandering around life aimlessly, not knowing what exactly I wanted. To quote myself from a chat that I had with a close friend a few days back, "most of us are like rudderless boats rocking to the waves in the ocean of life...". What exactly was my mission in life?"
I sighed, looked at my wrist-watch (a gift from Dad before I left Cal for my MBA), and reminded myself that I needed to prepare for the exam...the last MBA exam. "One more round," the voice in my head egged me on.
And then I knew that I had to log in, and blog about one of my all-time favorite poems:
"If" - Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
From businessballs.com : Rudyard Kipling's (1865-1936) inspirational poem 'If' first appeared in his collection 'Rewards and Fairies' in 1909. The poem 'If' is inspirational, motivational, and a set of rules for 'grown-up' living. Kipling's 'If' contains mottos and maxims for life, and the poem is also a blueprint for personal integrity, behaviour and self-development. 'If' is perhaps even more relevant today than when Kipling wrote it, as an ethos and a personal philosophy. Lines from Kipling's 'If' appear over the player's entrance to Wimbledon's Centre Court - a poignant reflection of the poem's timeless and inspiring quality.
Here is one incredibly inspiring speech from Steve Jobs, CEO, Apple Inc.
"I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.
The first story is about connecting the dots.
I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?
It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.
And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.
It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:
Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.
None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.
Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
My second story is about love and loss.
I was lucky — I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation — the Macintosh — a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.
I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me — I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.
I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.
I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.
My third story is about death.
When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.
About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.
I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.
This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.
Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.
Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.
Was hypnotized by Al Pacino's acting and dancing prowess in this scene from Scent of a Woman..
Also brilliant was the beautiful tango music, "Por una cabeza". [Trust me, the music is so sweet to hear that it made a fella like me want to learn the tango. This, coming from a fellow who's never stepped inside a discotheque or dancing hall of any sort.]
On trying to find out more about the song at Wikipedia, I was surprised to find out that the song talks about a race-horse gambler's comparison in addiction to betting on horses and being attracted to women.
I got the original Spanish lyrics and the translation here.
Por Una Cabeza [By the head of a horse] (1935) Music by: Carlos Gardel and Alfredo Le Pera Lyrics by: Carlos Gardel and Alfredo Le Pera
Losing by a head of a noble horse who slackens just down the stretch and when it comes back it seems to say: don't forget brother, You know, you shouldn't bet.
Losing by a head, instant violent love of that flirtatious and cheerful woman who, swearing with a smile a love she's lying about, burns in a blaze all my love.
Losing by a head there was all that madness; her mouth in a kiss wipes out the sadness, it soothes the bitterness.
Losing by a head if she forgets me, no matter to lose my life a thousand times; what to live for?
Many deceptions, loosing by a head... I swore a thousand times not to insist again but if a look sways me on passing by her lips of fire, I want to kiss once more.
Enough of race tracks, no more gambling, a photo-finish I'm not watching again, but if a pony looks like a sure thing on Sunday, I'll bet everything again, what can I do?
Like I said in an earlier post, films have the power to inspire us. They also have the power to make you pause and introspect. A beautiful example is from the (highly surprising) Hindi film "Bluffmaster".
The protagonist has just found out that he has a tumour in his brain and that his days on earth are numbered. On realising how upset and disappointed the hero is and how he just wants to sulk his life away, the doctor decides to give him some advice.
Walking along the Gateway of India, the doctor tells the hero something which, I feel, has a very powerful message hidden in it.
"Zindagi mein aisi choti choti baatein hoti hain, jo dino ko ek zindagi bana deti hain, aur hum inhe kabhi nahi bhool paate.
Zindagi mein tumhe aise kitne din yaad hain? Your first job, pehla suit, pehli salary..
Pandarah, bees, pachees din...tees? 30 right ?!! 30 special days...30 special days..
Tees saal ki zindagi, aur tumhe sirf tees din yaad hain? Baaki ke dinon ko kya ho gaya?"
English translation:
"There are small things in life which make each one of these days equivalent to a lifetime, and we are never able to forget those days.
How many such days do you remember? Your first job, your first suit, your first salary..
Fifteen, twenty, twenty-five days...thirty? 30 right ?!! 30 special days...30 special days..
Thirty years of living, and all you recall are thirty days? What happened to the rest of the days?"
How many special days can you recall, dear reader? :)
As if the heart wasn't already nostalgic enough, my friend Bamz sends me a forwarded e-mail on Bongs (no, I don't think it is disrespectful to call Bengalis as Bongs...after all, I too am more often than not thought of as a Bong). I'm just reproducing the parts which made me cackle as I sat in my chair, threatening to make the good ol' won't-laugh-won't-smile serious faced me look like a 5 year old who has just discovered the joys of watching Tom and Jerry.
For those of you who've stayed a considerable period of time in the city, go ahead and laugh through the mail and heave a sigh at the end. For those of who've not been to the City of Joy, here's a short and humorous description of the most lovable city I know, the place I call home. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Bengalis A-Z
C is for Chappell. This is the Bengali word for the Devil, for the worst form of evil. In the night mothers put their kids to sleep saying 'go to bed, or Chappell will come and take you away.'
D is for Debashish. By an ancient law every fourth Bengali Child has to be named Debashish. So you have a Debashish everywhere and trying to get creative they are also called Deb, Debu, Deba with variations like Debnath and Deboprotim thrown in.
F is for Feesh. These are creatures that swim in rivers and seas and are a favourite food of the Bengalis. Despite the fact that a fish market has such strong smells, with one sniff a Bengali knows if a fish is all right. If not he will say 'eeesh what feeesh is theesh!'
G is for Good name. Every Bengali Boy will have a good name like Debashish or Deboprotim and a pet name like Shontuda, Chonti, and Dinku. While every Bengali Girl will be Paromita or Protima as well as Shampa, Champa and Tuki.
Basically your nickname is there to kiil your good name.
H is for Harmonium. The Bengali equivalent of a rock guitar. Take four Bengalis and a Harmonium and you have the successors to The Bheatles!
L is for Lungi. People in Kolkata manage to play football and cricket wearing it. Now there is talk of a lungi expedition to Mt.Everest
M is for Minibus. These are dangerous half buses whose antics would effortlessly frighten the living daylights out of Formula 1 race drivers.
T is for Trams. Hundred years later there are still trams in Kolkata. Of course if you are in a hurry it's faster to walk.
U is for Ambrela. When a Bengali baby is born they are handed one.
V is for Violence. Bengalis are the most non-violent violent people around. When an accident happens they will shout and scream and curse and abuse, but the last time someone actually hit someone was in 1979.
W is for Water. For three months of the year the city is underwater and every year for the last 200 years the authorities are taken by surprise by this!
X is for X mas. It's very big in Kolkata, with Park Street fully lit up.
Okay, let me play the responsible citizen of blogosphere today and do my bit for society. (Now folks, all those who've been reading this blog regularly, this is the reason why you come here. I don't just write about random happenings in the daily life of an ordinary guy; at times, I also help people.)
All right, all right. Before you folks decide to kill me for acting high-n-mighty over nothing, let me get on with the post.
Have you spotted one of these around your home, your work place or your shopping mall?
(B-school bibliography writing instincts take over... photo courtesy straylight6)
And by 'one of these', I meant a glass elevator. With the number of eye-catching and glittery malls opening up around, the chances are that you've already stepped into one of these and that it isn't gonna be long before you step into one again.
Well...... WATCH OUT !!!!!
These glass elevators, sexy though they are, can be dangerous. As Banana Pen points out, there's this person in her office building who walked through the lift-doors of one of these glass elevators and didn't realise that the elevator wasn't there !!! Thankfully, he was only on the second floor, and hence, survived the fall with just a broken leg.
So, the message for the evening, ladies & gentlemen, is pretty clear: Mind your step when walking into an elevator. You might just save your life. And hey, be all the more careful when you're talking on the cell-phone and about to enter the lift, being absent minded and jumping down the elevator-shaft doesn't help. Ask Joey about how Dr. Drake Ramoray died !!!
Had an hour long talk last night on the phone with an old friend. In fact, he's one of those people who I don't speak to for, say, a month. And then, the day we talk, we try to catch up on everything that has been going on in the other person's life and hence, the discussion always extends beyond an hour.
Now, owing to the Business Law lecture yesterday morning at 11, I had to wake up after a very short sleep (yeah... I slept at 7 in the morning and woke up at 10:30). And despite this, I was feeling pretty ok and not drowsy at all, although the cuppa of tea at the mess helped greatly.
However, late last night, after the phone call, I just couldn't sleep. I don't know what it was that kept me up, but although I felt tired and drained, I just kept sitting in front of my laptop in my darkened hostel room. This was around 3 or so in the morning, so the noises of the hostel were already quietened and all that I could hear was the silent whirring of the fan. And for some reason, I kept staring at my desktop, which for about the last 2 weeks, looks like this:
I kept staring at the picture of Kali Ma (the photograph is a capture of the deity at Kalighat Temple, Calcutta) and wondering what the purpose of life was. Somehow, I felt that I was just wandering around life aimlessly, not knowing what exactly I wanted. To quote myself from a chat that I had with a close friend a few days back, "most of us are like rudderless boats rocking to the waves in the ocean of life...". (Recall Abhinav's post.) What exactly was my mission in life? The biggest trouble was that continuing with life without answering this all-important question seemed useless. Unfortunately, I don't have the time that a seer has, neither do I have the courage to give up all worldly pursuits and follow a philosophical pursuit of questions that a seer does.
I was then reminded of The Verve's song, "Bittersweet Symphony" (needless to mention, have already downloaded the song and heard it about 10 times back-to-back). Somewhere, the lyrics expressed the turmoil within...
"Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life Try to make ends meet You're a slave to money then you die...
No change, I can change I can change, I can change But I'm here in my mold I am here in my mold But I'm a million different people from one day to the next I can't change my mold No, no, no, no, no"
[P.S. To all my dear well-wishers: Please don't worry, I'm not terribly upset or worried about anything. It's just that I'm thoughtful. The usual. ;) ]
Here's what I'd scribbled at the back of my notebook. For some reason, I had been unable to complete the note.
"Thought is but like a child; if you allow it to be free and pursue whatever it wishes to, there is no knowing where the child shall finally await your attention, not to mention the wildly exciting path that it has taken to reach there. However, throw a toy or some other subject of interest for the child, and you can be certain that the..."
The reason why films are magical is because they have the potential, at times, to inspire people. How many times have you felt charged up just because of the dialogues that were extremely well written. Of course, you also need an actor competent enough to say the lines with heart and emotion.
One such American film series was the Rocky series. The sixth and final installment of the series, 'Rocky Balboa', has one such dialogue which is just beautiful.
Rocky gives his son some fatherly advice on success, and then repeats these lines to himself in the final fight after taking a brutal punch from his opponent.
"Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It is a very mean and nasty place and it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't how hard you hit; it's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward. How much you can take, and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done. Now, if you know what you're worth, then go out and get what you're worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hit, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you are because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain't you. You're better than that! "
Well, let's just put things in context first and then let's take it from there. I was chatting with a friend in the evening about how a few people we knew were behaving foolishly. Here's the last bit of the transcript:
me: i don't understand, how can ppl blindfold themselves... both X and Y.... ~shakes his head~
(friend): guyz r silly~shrugs~ me: no.. they aren't...some guys just CHOOSE to be silly...:((
Well, not EXACTLY a great revelation; but I just felt that more often than not, we KNOW what the correct thing to do is... It's just that the desire to do what is wrong is so tempting that we cannot tear ourselves away from it.
You know what the best part about having a friend is?
When you know you screwed up, just walk up to your friend, and with an honest heart tell them that you were a jerk, that you're thoroughly and extremely sorry and promise to learn from your mistake and never repeat it.
At times, it can be difficult to take the first step towards your friend, given the dinosaur-sized egos that humans normally have; but, just take in a deep breath and let go.
If your friend truly does understand you, they'll know that you mean every word of your apology. And that is the greatest test of your friendship; you having the courage to apologise, and them having the strength and purity to forgive.
Yesterday was a ROTTEN, ROTTEN day for more than one reason and I would like to just hit the 'Delete' button on it. (Make that 'Shift+Delete' !!) Today threatened to head in a similar direction, but then, things got better as the day wore on. A thought, however, lingered and though sad, the truth in it kept coming back to me.
The thought that haunted me was this: Most of the times, almost amusingly, the most painful decisions of your life are the ones which are correct.
I went to meet my Maasi and her daughter today. Both of them live in Rajkot and come down to Ahmedabad to meet my 'bhanja' (err...well, technically he's my 'bhanja', but he's already a cardiologist and I'm still wondering where and when I'll get my MBA degree... thank the older generation of parents who believed in a long line of children... my mom was the youngest of five sisters!).
During the two hours I spent with them, we recalled how a few year's back Maasi had unexpectedly landed up at our house in Calcutta at 8 in the morning! I remember both Mom and Dad were pleasantly surprised at her having called on us. But Maasi being Maasi, she was there on a mission. She quickly explained to Mom how she had, on an almost impromptu decision, left home with a group of her friends for a 'yatra', and had arrived in Calcutta without a place to stay in. She asked Mom if Dad could help.
Dad called up a few places he knew, and fortunately, a local dharamshala (which would meet the budget of the elderly group of people Maasi was travelling with) said that they could accommodate them, but not before the evening. 'No problem', Maasi said. And the next thing you knew, the bus-full of people were invited to our building terrace to 'prepare' food. Yes, that's right, people... they were actually carrying their 'mini kitchens' with them and prepared their own food on our terrace. I remember Mom and Dad watching with a rather amused smile as the elderly people went about with the energy of a couple of young boy-scouts on a camping routine.
You can imagine the amount of fun we all had that day when I tell you that I can recall this story after a good 5 years or so have passed. My parents still recall with fondness the happy feeling of helping the 'shraddhalus' on that day.
Now the reason why I'm putting this up here is because I feel that the most memorable outings of your life are going to be the ones that were unplanned. Sure it makes good sense to go on a holiday having everything planned and pre-decided. But at times, it's fun to just listen to the instinct, drop all work and head out. The novelty of it all, the kick that you get from the adventurous nature of the trip, the idea of the unexpected exciting sight that lies beyond the next corner is worth the little trouble that you must go through. And hey, it's fun !!!
Here are the top 10 songs that I listen to. As you can see, "You Know My Name" by Chris Cornell from 'Casino Royale' is at the top with the play count at 73. The next most popular track is "The Godfather - Waltz" with only 35 counts.
I don't know what it is about "You Know...", but I just have to listen to it a minimum of 5 times after I've heard it once. My favorite part?? The following -
"Arm yourself because no-one else here will save you The odds will betray you And I will replace you You can't deny the prize it may never fulfill you It longs to kill you Are you willing to die?
The coldest blood runs through my veins You know my name"
Well, what more could one want. A lazy Sunday afternoon, which slowly, with overhanging clouds turns into a pleasant evening, bringing along with itself the first sweet smell of spring. Add to that a late lunch (plus a kettle full of tea) with close friends, and you have the perfect setting for a wonderful day.
'Nirma thali' at the next-door 'rajvadu' restaurant: Rs. 55
A kettle of tea: Rs. 18
Carefree Sunday afternoon, with A. R. Rehman singing 'Tere Bina' on iTunes: Priceless
Day before yesterday, I went to see 'Eklavya'. And contrary to what appears to be the popular opinion, I loved the film. The only review that echoed what I felt after seeing the film was this.
The film is definitely not for the masses, who may go rushing into the cinema halls drawn by the names of Vidhu Vinod Chopra, Amitabh Bachchan, Saif Ali Khan and Sanjay Dutt (and Vidya Balan, of course).
The cinematography of S Natarajan Subramaniam is, in one word, brilliant. The screen is resplendent in the royal colours of Rajasthan and the film is a visual treat. The scene just before the interval, where all that is visible is the dark silhouette of a dying Rana breathing his last in the arms of a royal bodyguard, with the sun setting symbolically in the background and throwing its last rays of glorious orange sunshine on the royal fort, is a classic...It leaves a deep impact as the lights of the cinema-hall slowly come to life.
The editing, by Raviranjan Maitra, is fantastic. Not one scene seems to be out of line. Scenes which apparently have very little or nothing to do with the story, come back later with a sweet after-effect; be it the explanation of what the young rajkumar was punished for early in the movie or the scarf that the maharani accidentally drops from the fort ramparts. Kudos to both, Raviranjan Maitra and Vidhu Vinod Chopra, for such crisp editing.
Amitabh Bachchan is par excellence. Not once do you see the typical expressions that you might associate with the Bachchan of Karan Johar films. Amitabh gets into the skin of the character and one is convinced that he indeed is Eklavya, an aging bodyguard who must guard not only the occupants of the palace but also their deepest secrets. Watch out for the scene when Eklavya is asked, nay, ordered to leave the fort and go back to his village. Bachchan is what he is because what he does in the scene; he emotes pain and shock without uttering a single syllable.
Saif Ali Khan was powerful in essaying his role of the prince. In a film where he could've easily been overshadowed by Bachchan's performance, all credits to him for putting in a memorable portrayal. This is the third time after the eponymous 'Being Cyrus' and Langda Tyagi of 'Omkara' that I realised that there is more to him than just the actor with a wonderful comic timing (be it Sameer of 'Dil Chahta Hai' or Karan Kapoor of 'Hum Tum').
Boman Irani shows why people say his best performance was not as 'J Dot Asthana' of 'Munna Bhai MBBS' but as the 75 year old Dhunjisha Batliwala in Rahul Da Cunha's play 'I'm not Bajirao'. Vidya Balan brings grace and, ahem, sexual chemistry to the film. Sanjay Dutt with his portrayal of the rustic DSP adds the much-needed humour from time to time. Jackie Shroff and Jimmy Shergill do well in their short roles.
And finally, the best part of the film, the story. The film, while harking back to the legend of Eklavya from The Mahabharata, keeps asking questions about 'dharma' and right and wrong. The film also offers an interesting answer in the form of the definition which the grand old man of The Mahabharata, Bhishma, gives for 'dharma'. Then again, the film provides good food-for-thought with issues such as 'the young son helping an aging father' and 'a son's duty towards both, his foster and biological parents'.
Armed with this script, a play would perhaps have been much, much more powerful. I was also reminded of a play titled 'Durgesh Nandan' (Son of the Fort) that I had seen many years ago in Calcutta.
Okay, perhaps there's just one other review that I agree with. And what strikes me the most about this review by the New York Times is that this film 'has a heart for the classics'.
Vidhu Vinod Chopra, take a bow.
My ratings: 4.5 out of 5 stars
[Okay, okay... I give in, but this was a review that I found after writing the post. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Subhash K. Jha's review.]
Woke up at 11 today too. ~sighs~ When was the last time I got up early? (Only 2 days back, but that sounds like ages ago.)
Had two lectures of New Venture Creation (NVC) followed by two lectures of Retail Management. NVC was fun, in the usual manner. If I would have had my way, I would re-name these classes as 'Dream Sessions'. Don't get me wrong, it isn't that what the professor teaches is so out-of-this world that it lulls you to sleep, just that I day-dream of how new ventures take their businesses to the corporate level. The strategies that they use, the myriad of options that they have and the choices that they must make. Network models, promising start-ups, venture-backed start-ups, marginal start-ups... they're not just words which random research scholars have typed into their word-processing software; they're live organisations, humming with the combined heart-beat of all the stakeholders of the firm.
Ok, I hereby conclude that I'm a "romantic-academic" (Eureka!! Have I just invented a term for the English language?) at heart !
There are two things that I must mention about these NVC classes before I move on to another topic (actually, make that 3!!).
1. I was surprised by a professor saying the following words, "If an individual wants to take his fledgling organisation to the corporate level, he must start with a very simple step: set audacious goals." Really? Is it actually that simple?? That humble goal setting process???
2. Sir sprung another surprise when he said this course wasn't something that we would forget about once our MBA would get over and we get on our with our jobs; the NVC spiral of articles and research papers isn't something that we'll be dusting off shelves in say, 5 years time, when (and if) we decide to start our own ventures. According to him, he is arming us with enough research materials and (he hopes) an inquisitive mind to study not only the organisation that we would be working in but also all forms of businesses that we encounter in our daily lives. Hmm... what say, do you see the makings of a Starbucks in your neighbourhood 'chai-waala'?
3. Speaking of 'chai-waala', there is no dearth of chai-waalas, maska-bun waalas, small-time coffee-shop owners that we discuss in class. The only way the class becomes interesting and lively is by the impromptu and passionate speeches that the students start making when they cite examples of people they personally know who started out small time and eventually made it big. And, typically, Sir springs to the black-board and starts drawing either a matrix or a graph to (to quote Sir) "try and see if we can have some idea about how the person was successful". (Trust me, nothing sounds as intellectual as those words when said by a greying Bengali prof. who knows his stuff).
Just as I was wondering whether I've taken my MBA at least a year or two earlier, Sir sprung another surprise. He said, "Your real MBA starts once you walk out of this institute. Here, we only provide you the tools and some basic knowledge, the real learning starts when you apply this knowledge to the uncertainties of the world outside." Cool ! :)
Moving over to the Retail Marketing classes, I actually kept Sir back after class to discuss Apple Stores with him. I've become an Apple fan of late, and was wondering where in India do I have to go to see (and someday, hopefully, buy) a MacBook. I had thought that with the booming economy and the number of people looking to buying a laptop, India would've been a sure-shot target. When I went to the Apple website, however, I found that the closest address for an Apple Store is in Singapore. :(
Sir said that he'd already spotted a shop in Forum Mall, Bangalore where they have the authorised dealership of Apple products. [My friend Abhinav also told me to check out the Himalaya Mall in Ahmedabad where, apparently, there's another dealer.] Not satisfied with 'authorised dealerships', I asked Sir how long would it be before we could expect an Apple Store. "Any time now." And what had kept them waiting for so long? "You must please appreciate the FDI norms that the Govt. keeps commenting on." And the destination would be?? Mumbai? Bangalore? "Of course Bangalore, no doubt about it. But you never know, even Hyderabad is picking up quickly."
Hmm..
Had worn my India t-shirt all day long, and thank God the guys won at Goa.
Post dinner at Madhurya (with Sam and Basanti), have been working on the Capstone project. Hope we rock tomorrow.
I've been hibernating from blogosphere. But tell you what, it's good. It has meant a lot of quality time alone, and means that I've had time to introspect and chart out a road-map for the future.
I have started blogging again. It is a blog where I review the books that I read. Two reasons why I had to do this. One, I love the idea of keeping a track of the books that I read. Two, the itch to write was just too much to ignore. So, those of you who think I might be reading some interesting books and would do justice to reviewing them, click here.
As for blogging about my thoughts and life in general, I have been debating with myself over and over again (then again, I'm a Libran, and this constant attempt at balancing of scales is always expected). Let's see whether I do actually blog again. Till then, namaskar. :)
All right, so there is a lot of hype surrounding the film already. Why?
1. The film is directed by Mani Ratnam, a great director in his own right. 2. Abhishek Bachchan and Aishwarya Rai are, if media reports are to be believed, linked romantically. 3. The film 'Guru' is based on the life of Dhirubhai Ambani, one of the most successful (and controversial) tycoons that India has seen.
With respect to the rumours regarding reason 3 above, have a look at this video, especially post the 45 second mark, where Abhishek Bachchan and Mani Ratnam try to evade the question.
But are there similarities that we can see?
Visit the official movie site, www.guru-thefilm.com and you'll be surprised.
Similarity no. 1 --> Guru's character comes from a village in Gujarat. (So what??)
Similarity no. 2 --> Guru's father is also the headmaster of a village school.
Similarity no. 3 --> When Guru moves to Mumbai, wife in tow, he, like Dhirubhai, lives in a one room chawl.
Similarity no. 4 --> Shakti Corporation, according to the film, becomes the first Indian company to enter the Forbes 500 list of companies. Reliance Industries Ltd. is the first private sector company from India to be listed on the Forbes 500.
Similarity no. 5 --> Mithun Chokraborty runs the newspaper 'Swatantra'. It is not very difficult to spot the similarities of the character with Ramnath Goenka who ran the 'Indian Express'.
Similarity no. 6 --> The site actually mentions Dhirubhai's most famous quote "Think Big, Think Ahead, Think Fast"
Of course, people might point out that Guru's character doesn't go to Aden; it goes to Turkey. But then, there are way too many similarities, what do you say?
I'm sure this is one movie the business historian Gita Piramal is going to enjoy. After all, it was after reading her "Business Maharajas" that I became intrigued with the Ambani story.
Like I mentioned in the last post, an unlikely group of 7 got together and decided they needed to take a break from their hectic presentations-placements-PPT-schedule filled MBA life and go for a vacation. The destination was Mount Abu in Rajasthan, a five hour drive from Ahmedabad.
Each traveller spent the night preceeding the travel in his/her own unique fashion. Bodo Bhai played Counter Strike and Age of Empires all night, the Whale went off to sleep (as promised), the Dolphin finally dozed off to sleep (not as promised), Debby was up all the while whereas yours truly drifted off at 4 after typing this post.
I woke up at quarter past 5, and the entire group assembled in front of the boys hostel by 6. Only after greeting each party member in the shivering cold did we realise that the car had still not arrived. In the yet dark, early hours of the day, we decided to wait for the car at the University main gate.
In front of the boys hostel (L to R: Mini 'Dolphin', Whale, Debby, Piranha, Bodo Bhai, Shark)
The car finally arrived somewhere around quarter to 7 and we were on our way. We stopped for breakfast at this dhaba off the Ahmedabad-Mehsana Expressway. The piping hot aloo-paratha were yummmm to say the least (my stomach growls an approval more than 84 hours after the breakfast). The extra helping of butter and the mast chai that we were served only made us want to NOT leave the place in a hurry.
At the Dhaba
A deadly combination of an hour of sleep the previous night followed by the wonderful breakfast was enough to put me off to sleep in the car. I woke up minutes before we crossed the Gujarat-Rajasthan border. And of course, the moment we crossed the police check-post, we could spot one shop after another proclaiming the availability of alcohol (Gujarat being a 'dry' state).
It wasn't long before we left behind the simple driving pleasures one experiences on a highway and were on the long and winding roads which led up to Abu Road. Once past the main town, the road, cut into the mountain-side, only got steeper. The constant twists and turns made the Dolphin experience motion sickness and we had to shift her to the front seat and also request the driver to go a bit slow. Of course, the driver being a driver, paid no heed.
We did stop at a point on the way up to take in the beauty of the valley.
As you can see, the view was breathtaking
Bodo Bhai takes a break
The Dolphin smiles
On reaching Mt. Abu, we checked into Hotel Lake View, so named because it looks over 'Nakki Lake' (I later learned that the lake is named so because it was believed that the lake was dug by the nails of the Gods; so 'naakhun' --> Nakki). The wooden panelled room, the comfortable bed, the oh-so-inviting 'razaai' was just too much for me and I was promptly off to sleep. :D
I woke up for lunch ordered from the hotel kitchen. Though the lunch turned out to be unsatisfactory, the others in the group decided to take a rest. They had been out exploring the nearby areas while I was sleeping. I decided it was time to go out on a small adventure of my own.
I went up to Toad Rock, named thus because of the shape in which the rock, atop a hill, is in.
Toad Rock
In order to reach Toad Rock, one has to climb a flight of stone steps cut into the mountain. It was a good exercise running up those 200 odd stone steps and soon I had to take off my woolen jacket and tie it around my waist. The view of Nakki lake and the surrounding mountain range was beautiful and I doubt even those more adept at words than me can describe the magnificence of it all.
An hour later, I joined the rest of the gang at the hotel and we decided we must go boating on the lake before it got too dark. We spent a jolly half an hour in the paddle boats, although I must complain, Bodo Bhai cheated and poor moi had the strenous job of paddling harder than required by a single person paddling in a team.
Bodo Bhai, me and Mini 'Dolphin' wait for our boat (Can you spot Debby posing like a maharaja?)
After our boating expedition, we went off into the main market to try and see if we could buy something to take back home. I escorted the ladies to a Khadi Gram Udyog Shop that I'd spotted earlier to help me buy a kurta for myself. The Dolphin, expectedly, quickly made her exit and left it to Bips and the Piranha to help me choose the kurta. [Unfortunately, we couldn't find anything decent, even after 20 minutes of going through the pile of kurtas. :(( ]
We had dinner at a nice restaurant and were back in the hotel room by 10, if I remember correctly. They were showing the Amitabh Bachchan-Akshay Kumar starrer 'Aankhen' on TV, and even as the Whale was watching it, I was already snugly fitting myself in the quilt. And before long, my heavy eyelids bid goodnight to the world.
The next morning we were faced with a very simple plan of action. We were off to this mandir on top of a hill and the view from there was absolutely UN-BELIEVABLE !!!! We had the most enjoyable time taking in the view, and also had a gala time teasing the Whale. :D
This was perhaps the most hillarious part of the entire journey. While the Whale posed for a pic dressed as a Rajputana maharaja, Bodo Bhai set up his digicam. Now, while the Whale thought that he was posing for a pic, Bodo Bhai was actually recording the entire scene, with me commentating in the background !! The look of confusion on the Whale's face was worth a million bucks when we told him we were actually recording him moving about in that funny dress.
The Whale
As seen from Mini Dolphin's mobile cam (Doesn't he look as if he is in mid-air?)
Also, on our way down the same hill, we stopped at this place where we fed the fishes in a lake and then explored the nearby terrain. I was on a complete high (literally and figuratively) climbing the treacherous rocks.
On that hill, all by myself, I was nearest to complete peace. I was completely focussed on the next step that I needed to take. And for good reason. A wrong step here or there would've sent me hurtling down the cliff. At some places, a mistake would've perhaps only landed me with a hard thud onto the stony surface below, but at other places, there was nothing except the valley far down below. I'm not sure it would've been death, but it would've surely led to heavy injuries. But somehow, I felt the concentration strangely relaxing. ALL my energies and thoughts had to focus on what was to be done next. I could not, for a moment, let my thoughts wander to my parents, my ex, my studies or to my friends who were down below exploring some other part of the hill. It was, like I said, the most purified form of meditation; complete thought control.
Our final stop before making our return to Ahmedabad were the Dilwara temples. Now, Bodo Bhai and Bips refused to step inside the temples since they'd had a non-vegetarian lunch. On the other hand, Mini 'Dolphin' simply didn't want to go. Her logic ? "I'm tired !!" Uff !!! This girl can be so silly at times.. :P
Anyway, I bribed her with the promise of a Cadbury's if she came along. And tell you what, she would've missed something all right !! My only logic in going in was that I'd read about this place as a kid in history books at school. Having come so close, I didn't want to miss out on the opportunity. Who knew whether I would ever again get to visit this place at all !!
To tell you something honestly, friend, this was the best decision I have taken in a long, long time. The structures made out of marble in these temples were simply out of the world !! Our jaws literally dropped when we saw the intricate work done on the ceilings and the arches. The Whale, Dolphin, Debby and I couldn't stop wondering how the artisans had carved out such beautiful figurines. Everything, from the soldiers, the ceilings, the elephants, the horses to the kings, was beautiful beyond belief. Like Debby observed, it seemed as if the artisans were looking for an avenue to express themselves and these slabs of marble were the only square inches where they could find the freedom to do so.
Tired by the day's efforts of climbing up cliffs, chasing each other up stone-steps and marvelling at the beauty of the temples of Dilwara, we returned to the car for the journey back home. Content and smiling, we piled into the car, carrying with us anecdotes and pics to carry us through till the next vacation.
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And oh, by the way, I had to finally buy Mini the Cadbury for visiting the Dilwara temples, although she admitted she would've regretted not going. You didn't think she would let me off the hook that easily, did you?? ;)
Placement Week was one helluva affair. It had all the makings of a Bollywood potboiler. Dharam Paaji could've very well been shouting about Placement Week when he stood atop the water tank in Sholay and shouted "Iss ishtory mein drama hai, tragedy hai, emotion hai...tumhaare aasoon nikal aayenge, kaka.."
I had a roller-coaster ride myself. However, I finally bagged the post of a Management Trainee (Marketing) at Tata Teleservices Ltd. What's more, Basanti and Nike are in too, as HR and Marketing trainees, respectively. (Yipeeeee !!!)
As we were ruminating today, our batch is definitely more cooler than that of our immediate seniors. Not only did NO student throw a party in celebration of his / her placement till the time the last person of the batch got placed, but also the number of folks who (shamelessly) went back home after their own placement was much lesser as compared to last year. In other words, the number of people who volunteered for Hospitality and Logistics committee (responsible for taking care of the companies which visit the campus) was high. It was good to see people standing up for each other when it matters the most. And the fact that they were coming to help inspite their own placement being done showed the selflessness of it all.
As for those fools who went home or lazily stayed locked up in their rooms, I pity them. They missed out on some of the BEST moments of their post-grad life. They missed the emotional lows and highs that each student experienced. They will never witness the scenes of camaraderie where a person leapt for joy just because his friend got placed, forgetting for a moment that he himself was yet to get placed. Never will their hearts be warmed by the image of two guys sharing high fives and hugging each other at the news that a friend, who wasn't present at the scene, had just gotten placed. For them remains the world of cold selfishness, in which they remain blinded by their own selfish gains. I hope they get a heart...someday soon.
As The Whale observed, friendships of the last one and a half years was different, and the friendship expressed during the last one week was different. New bonds of brotherhood were created. People you'd hardly ever spoken to came up to offer words of solace and strength. Individuals who had been indifferent to your presence a month ago came up to share their own experiences. And once the satisfaction settled in that the entire batch had been comfortably placed, the stage was set for the ultimate chill out time.
I went out with friends for a movie after a long long time (the last movie I saw in an Ahmedabad movie hall was 'Rang De Basanti'; the last movie I had seen in a cinema hall was 'Being Cyrus'). Unfortunately, we went for Dhoom 2. Trust me folks, this ain't a movie you wanna watch for reasons beyond a) Fashion, b) Hrithik, c) Aishwarya, d) Abhishek and e) Cleavage. The songs ain't great (according to The Dolphin, the songs got in the way of the narration) and there are G-L-A-R-I-N-G gaps in the story. I can go on and on how sad the movie was, but let's just end by saying that the movie was high on style, but pathetically low on substance. (I kinda also agree with Arpz's version that it was a 3 hour fashion show).
Went to Rasranjan and had a great time eating the Manchurian with Fried Rice.
And since Upper Crust was just next door, I persuaded Dolphin into buying me a Devil's Chocolate Pastry. Yummm.. :D
I slept at 5 yesterday morning and woke up at 1 in the afternoon. Went for lunch to Madhurya. Realised on our way there that most of the folks from the college have gone to Daman & Diu. Plus, there were a few other friends who'd left for Mt. Abu.
Basanti's parents had come over for the day, and they decided to give us a treat for dinner. So the gang went to Bandhan and had some good Punju food. I had a gala time teasing a sweet batchmate about the fact that the dish that she'd chosen was in fact very similar to her personality; so much so that I ended up naming her after the dish !!! So, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the newest addition to the phone-book in my cellphone: Paneer Toofani !! He he..
After the great evening, we came back only to find out that now we too badly wanted to go to Mt. Abu. Bodo Bhaihas made the arrangements and now we're all ready to leave tomorrow morning at 6. The Whale has decided to take a nap, but since I was asleep for almost the entire day, I have decided to stay up and go off to sleep in the Tavera that will be taking us tomorrow. As of now, Bodo Bhai, Whale, Dolphin, Piranha, Bips, Debby and I are going. It should be fun listening to the string of abuses that we're gonna hear, since Kaal, Sahu Sahab, Rohit and Zehreela / Crab are already at Mt. Abu. :D
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