Brave Heart II

Amazed at the vigor,

At The-Can do verve,

At the dynamism of this multiple task undertaker.

He reinforces - Hope has no boundaries,

And Aim knows no limits.

Sky rocketing expectations, not his, rather from him

He surpasses them all, not just meets,

With contempt or complain, No one he treats.

The message is plain loud and simple -

People talk about perseverance and resolution,

About Optimism and accountability,

He does not talk, rather, he lives it.

I Respect, I salute to the spirit of this man,

For all he always says he can.

There is so much depth in this Brave Heart,

It’s inspiring to see this Leader’s journey from the start.

Life is a Race

“Life is a Race” is a famous quote from a famous bollywood movie. I totally agree to the line of thought. Can everyone win this race? Are we competing with fellow runners or is it our own self that we want to outdo? To be better than the rest or to be better than what you were? Books and lessons at school and by parents taught us that you have to constantly improve your capabilities and not compare yourself with others. This line of thought has definitely undergone a sedimentary change.

                In this competitive market, like goods have to differentiate themselves in order to sell, we as people also have to have the out-of-ordinary traits to prove ourselves. Like in the last millennium, whatever was produced by the manufacturers had to be bought by the consumers as there were no substitutes and there was no competition. Similarly, in the last millennium, there was less number of people running in this race of life and competing in all the spheres.

                So as the marketing Gurus teach us that are product has to have some ‘points of difference’ in order to make ‘unique positive associations’, we as individuals also need to have some distinctive capabilities that will help us beat the rest. Corollary to what was taught to us, it will never be about only participation, the need of the hour is competition and the will to be in it, run the race, and try to win by doing your best.

                                                      “You can no more ask

                                                       ‘Friends Romans and Countrymen’

                                                       to lend you their ears.

                                                       You have to win their

                                                       ears and make them listen.”

What will make me win this race? Is it Speed or is it Discretion? Do I just keep running at the maximum speed possible, or do I stop and think and chose my directions? Teachers and Parents taught me that the right path will take you forward. And the right path will be slow, will give you tough times but will make you strong. Has this philosophy changed with change in times? Has the definition of right path been tweaked?

I like many of you stand on such crossroads; I see a faster quicker path and have a slower longer one too. All throughout I have chosen the latter one. But this time I feel unsure about taking the longer one. I have this urge to take the faster route. The faster route will help me prove to world, for I have a desire to making it big and not just proving it to my own self. But for now, I have paused, am in deep thought and finding out a mid way; a fast one so that I can prove it to the world, also longer so that I can build myself like my parents and teachers taught.

                                            Will I get the speed and discretion combined?

Invisible Threads

The constant force that heaves,

Me to you, you to me,

It was and has been there:

Irrespective of being far or near

Emotions have overwhelmed – memories sweet and sour,

Mountains we have seen, beaches together anew

Forests, water currents, forts and temples too

Rains and sunshine; dusk and dawn

Have come and gone

What was then so different this time?

There were no Violins neither chimes

There was sea, that we have been to before,

Proximity that we have shared before

What is it that made me so willing then

 What is it that you say or do or mend?

Outlandish that it is but I feel

You have attached more threads

Not one, not hundred

Millions I see,

Those that keep attached you to me and me to you.

Like the Workers of the Mill

Pitter – Pattering drops on the window sill

O’ what a view from the top of the mill

Drops from heaven, come dancing down on the fields green,

The wind, the breeze can be felt but not seen

Arms wide open, eyes lightly shut

Smiling faces run out of the tattered huts

Think a little deep; get the grip - the gravity of the rain

One of the rare moments, when dark clouds explain

 Look clearly – the cloud does not have a silver lining,

It is grey, and comes thundering

Darker it is, heavier the rain,

With light outlines, its purpose fails

They loved the dark clouds; the heavy rain

For it diluted their sorrows, washed their pain

So can you open your arms in the darkest hours?

Wear a brave face when the times are sour?

Like Workers of the mill, with tattered huts

Had their arms open, and enjoyed the dim showers.

Smile at adversities, use your reason

Remember how you enjoy the rainy season

Rapture

Here I am night after night -

Lost in the nighttime where darkness too was bright.

Drawn to you – in my thought and dreams,

 “I love u” is the last thought everyday my soul screams.

I know now what it is to be close even when far;

‘Coz I can smell you, feel you, when u are 100 miles this afar.

Your loving and cute face doesn’t give me much choice,

Healing, pleasing, comforting – your voice;

On the other end of the mile,

I know how you think of me and smileJ

I know you don’t like the void,

That, which I left u in with my presence devoid!

I feel the same like you do:

The beautiful windy evenings and fun things too remind me of you.

I feel drawn to you ever more now,

How beautiful it is for 2 people to feel blissful together and I wonder how?

The Struggle

Problems are not my issue, fear it is.

There has to be a start, the beginning to an end, -

End to the might of fright,

 Like a creeper I rose tall and wide, but not without support.

Rose to the heights, smiling at the sunshine, -

Pretty but frail,

I lost focus and there was someone to magnify my aim,

I fell and had hands to lift me and buck me up,

Friends, philosophers, guides, have helped me rise and shine.

But rising is no more my aim; standing firm is.

I refuse to take assistance,

A helping hand will do more harm than good.

Friends, philosophers and guides is not what I need,

Predicaments are not simple any more, to explain,

What is the need to explain?

Let me fall, let me cry, but let me reach out to myself.

In the darkest corners of mind does one find illumination.

I want to touch the light, that, that shines within me.

What if the world thinks I am able, let me realize I have it in me.

For, its just I who knows what I am.

The fear of drowning has taught me to swim,

Let me touch the danger; let me know what it is to stand up on my own.

Diamonds

Those small little sparkling things refracted light like nothing else on this earth. Not that she liked wearing them. She wanted to get them all for her mom. Every possible shining thing on this earth, not just diamonds. Time flew and she was not even close. “Stay at it, perseverance and patience can mine diamonds from coal”, she was told. She did.

The VOID

Never knew all this was real. It all seemed so far away. Things like this would happen in some distant worlds. And then I grew up, and I saw my grandfather leave us. The distant world suddenly merged in mine and then the myth shattered. Things are real. DEATH is real. It is inevitable and it exists as much as I do. I know that it happens. I could never understand the fact that suddenly I would no more meet that person. I still cant believe the exact meaning of the word DEMISE. Because no speculation can ever reveal the meaning, its too hard to think and gulp it down.

                I was almost learning to forget the truth and started living with the reality and still meet in my own world, those who left. That world that’s just mine, for in that I could meet whoever whenever. But now suddenly that world seems to expand and I don’t like it. This is just another side of growing up. And I hate this more than any other thought that trails in my mind. I don’t know how people learn to live in this shrinking world. Its not just me but its how I see this injustice to whom I love. They say it’s a loss, I don’t agree for loss is too simple a word to define someones absence. For I am not sure if it is absence at all. Whn it is a cause of so much sorrow, then why do people have to leave at all? I wish I could do something, I pray to GOD for comfort of those who are afeected by this in unconquerable pain, but I know no prayer would ever help. Maybe Time would, maybe Time heals. I wish I could just revert certain things but its true that everyone has a special place not only on this earth but in the hearts of those who matter and those who love. Love never fades and The void never fills…

Consumerism and the Indian youth

Does the youth make a good buyers market? Should companies adapt their marketing strategies to the changing consumption patterns and trends pertaining to the youth?

                Lets start with the changing trends among the youth. To keep it short I would say, now the new ‘roti, kapda and makan’ is the ‘Branded kapda, Cellphone and Ipod’ for this section of the Indian population. Gone are the days when the parents were the buying decision makers. The emerging increasing trends of consumerables that target the youth clearly suggests the rising demands in this sector. A study suggested that even the teenagers of otherwise middle class families are getting more and more prone to the luxury items available in today’s markets. Be it dining at the top notch places of holidaying or simple daily use items like, clothes, shoes, bags and watches. The use of mobiles and hi-tech electronics clearly shows the upward moving technology learning curve.So is it actually right at the marketers end to target this segment of the society?

                It is clear that the final purchasing power lies in the hands of the earning member of the family. In India, mostly it is either of the parents. Will a teenager be allowed to buy if the parents are not convinced. The trend that has been noticed is that on an average the Indian teenager spends around Rs 200/week as pocket money. So it might just be possible that this amount would at times be spent on luxury items but more often than not it is spent on the basic entertainment packages.

                In contrast as compared to the west, where there is a socio-cultural and socio-economic desire to become independent begins quite early, leading the teenagers to find part time jobs. Quite a many of which are pretty well paying. Considering the fact that they do not have any additional responsibilities and neither is there a ‘savings culture’ all of this money is treated as pocket money. Thus leading to the luxury prone purchasing decisions. On the other hand Indians usually depend on their parents for economic support atleast till the age of 20 – 22 years.

                The flipside of the coin suggests that even though the teenagers don’t have the buying/purchasing power, yet they play a major role in influencing the buying decision. So if the marketing activities are targeted to them, they would in a way express their bias towards a particular product or brand and thus increase the potential market. Also, the youth of today is the market for tomorrow. The value or the brand image that is formed in their minds today, will help in making a potential market for the future. 

LIPS

Hop, skip and jump. A la-la on her lips - those pretty pink, full and wholesome lips. The sudden smile that would spread a 1000 watt energy around her. Sometimes times silent and colorless. Eyes could deceive but those lips, they were a replica of the soft center and turbulent sea of emotions inside.

Foundation

He was epitome of all the good on this earth, until that day. That not so fine day when she saw her father, bribe the contractor. In a fix, trying to contemplate as Vimal gave a ransom amount for getting an illegal building constructed not realising he was weakening the foundations of his daughter’s future.

Fear

It was killing her every-day, the thought of parting. She would count day after day, every meeting was more intense. The hugs, the deep kisses and the spark in their eyes when the lay in the night, thinking about the few days left. The fear of it ending forever. Did distance confiscate the fear?

Let me be `FREE`

First Speech in GLIM:-

Dear friends, I stand here not as a social activist or an advocate for Women’s rights. What I am going to say today is in my own selfish interest.

                I start with equality, between men and women. Oh yes, I agree I am equal. I am economically and emotionally independent. for she has marched forward. For she has emerged as a force to be reckoned with. But is she free?

                It so happened the other day I had to go to a hospital for getting a vaccination done. The class got over late and due to unforeseen circumstances I got delayed and it was post 7. I was suggested to not go. Why? Because it was too late for two girls to go alone as this area is not safe. I realized, I am not independent – I am dependent.

                I would not chose to board a flight that lands at 3 am. Its too late in the night to go hunting for a hotel. Its not safe. But my guy friend, who is as old as me, as smart as I am would not think twice. Why the difference now? Where is the equality now?

                Do you feel scared standing alone in a deserted area? No. But I do. I am not equal. I don’t like the constant feeling of fear inside me. I don’t want to be protected. I want to be free.

                10% of u guys come here and talk about booze and smoke. And its cool. But if I booze, if I smoke, I am labeled. Dude, remember - its as harmful for u.

                Why does a women have to think twice before wearing what she likes to? Even after a most traumatic rape case she is held 50% responsible. Why? She was wearing a mini skirt, it was inviting. Will she ever want what just happened to her? U must be out of ur mind to even think so, but we have had debates over this. Debates over the responsibility of a girl for her own rape. Equality – u see.

                Il end my speech with the same question – Am I free? Give me the respect, freedom and equality will come following suit.

Brave Heart

Life had been harsh before,

But now, he could not give another test anymore.

I saw him fight day after day,

A tough torso, iron spirit – made up: fake, I say.

A gush of emotions,

Tears full of questions.

But no, he would never cry,

How could he question?

Acceptance – he believed, conquers the pain and repairs the damage.

Amazed me - So much so at such a young age?

Powerless as I sat,

That day, when he came and slept in my lap.

I know it’s the worst of all fears,

To give up, give in, hold firm and bear.

I Respect, I salute to the spirit of that man,

For all he always says he can.

There was so much more in that Brave Heart,

It withheld, bore and prepared for a fresh start

Broken WAVES

Silent shores spoke to the turbulence inside her

As she sat there staring into the infinity of the ocean

Voices in the sea shells immortalized her past - 

How she wished the waves had the power to wash the memories

Memories of her once so complete world:

Now only debris,

Blissful days, now thunder struck, pain struck

Eyes that twinkled, shed tears

Now the waves washed the past –

She let them take her,

Receding waters did her last rites

Indeed freed her from the heavy bundle of the fright

Wind

It had the power to make thousands smile, to make hundreds dance to its tunes, to make them sing, to feel at home in those magical moments, feel connected to those distant souls, connected the night sky and those under it – the non existent strings that were well perceived. They smiled in unison as their faces bloomed, the Wind spread it all.

Rishtey...

Haven’t you come across strangers, who at the very first glance seem so known? Haven’t you made friends with people whom you never exchanged even a single word… just a smile or a nod maybe. Some people whom you see daily but don’t know who they are, and then suddenly the fade away but you never forget them. This story is dedicated to all such strangers who have been close to my heart.

I wake up early at the sound of my annoying alarm and then push my blanket away unwillingly. My bed keeps screaming and asking me to not leave him alone. My pillow calls me back and the blanket weeps to be thrown away. But after this initial daily motion of 5-10 minutes, I finally get up, put my snoozing alarm to rest, brush my teeth then my hair, gear up in my jogging suit and out I am in the fresh air. I can breathe the freshness of the mornings. The best part of the day; sun shining and not burning, birds chirping and not tweaking, Bicycles riding and no bikes racing and most importantly people smiling not sulking. I don’t have a particular route, I go where my feet take me. Usually a 4 km round and then some stretching in the park in my society. The jog is mostly a pleasant affair, except when some wild dogs make you run for your life or ghosts from some scary movie from last night haunt you and you feel they are following you. Some fast music quickens my pace and keeps me going. Finally when I enter the park I am always welcomed with a smile. Smile by a middle aged lady, she is present everyday at the park. We exchange a smile, a nod and then I start my exercise. She takes rounds of the park walking. We two have known each other for almost an year now. I note her expressions daily, at times she has a persistent tension on her face, that day she even walks faster than usual. At times, she seems to be too tired. Mostly she is jovial and smiling. I noticed a bandage on her hand once, out of curiosity I asked “hey hope everything is allright”, she replied smiling “ Oh this, no no everything is fine, I just burnt my hand in the kitchen, it will be ok in a few days”. If I bunked my regime, she would definitely ask me the next day. If she did not, I would think that even she was a defaulter. We had a cordial mutual relation, that of perfect strangers. We never bothered to ask each other whereabouts or names. It was just as if we existed in some parallel worlds which meet in the mornings.

                At times she would get her cute little daughter along. She would run around singing “ring-a-ring-a-roses” and keep plucking flowers and presenting it to random people in the park. Her name was Roma, must be 4 years old; Pretty girl. At times she would come with an aged woman. Once she did not come for one whole week. When she did, she had a sad long face. When I asked “all ok?”, she replied, “my mother-in-law(that aged lady) passed away.” I gave my condolences and carried on my routine.

                Today it has been more than a month, she has not showed up. For a few days I kept thinking of reasons that would have kept her from coming. Reasons like a vacation, maybe ill health, maybe her daughter is sick. I used to say a small little prayer for her well being. I imagine her warm smiling face every morning. We were strangers, yet I had some connection with her. I felt wanted in the park as if someone was waiting. I went prepared with a reason if I missed my walk any day. I liked meeting her.

It has been more than six months now. Well she might have shifted to a new city or a new locality maybe. Shouldn’t she have informed me? I wish we exchanged more than a smile. I wish I knew who she was, for she surely was a comforter. Some cosmic force or human nature, we were strange friends. I so dearly wish we would meet again, in the park on the road, somewhere, sometime and this time I would surely introduce myself. I wish she is still in this universe.  

Renunciation

A plethora of thoughts rushing and imaginations of what the next day would be like, as Naval slept on his bed for the last night in the next eight months. His body was showing all signs of anxiety. Akshay, Naval’s younger brother was trying his best to pacify him. Naval was too petrified to leave his brother and mother back home, alone for eight whole months. Ever since their father left the house, Naval felt the unusual gravity pulling him home.

Akshay and Naval’s father Vinod was a religious man and was into rituals and superstitions. With growing age, his inclination towards rumination grew. He always said that he would renounce all earthly desires and go in search of inner tranquility. Sheela, his wife would laugh it off saying that they as it is they did not have a lot of material pleasures. They lived in a humble home on the outskirts of the city and gave their children best possible upbringing that they could afford. She assured him that he would find true happiness in fulfilling his duties. But when both their children grew up, Vinod could no longer stay, he announced that we would be leaving, would abandon all relations and pleasures and go in pursuit for the true self. Soon he was gone.

Naval was a merchant navy cadet. He had just completed his studies and had to go for his first sail. In usual circumstances this would have been the biggest day for him, but now with the additional worries clouding his mind, he could neither go nor not go.

Naval, woke up early, and sat on the window sill, facing the fence. He watched the emptiness of the dawn. It was neither night nor day, viz-a-viz his state of mind. Contrasting, conflicting thoughts, neither happy nor sad - Blank and empy.  Sheela could feel the turmoil troubling her son. She chose to hide her moist eyes in the dampness of the dawn. Sheela was a strong lady, unmoved and calm. Her wide forehead, never showed a single line of distress. No one in the house ever spoke of the unwanted episode. Today, Sheela broke her silence. “I am happy he left. He always wanted to go. And I am happy that u are going too, for I want you to”, she spoke in a composed tone, “ he never had his strings attached here, he was meant to go, its not that I liked, I never told you before. He loved you both but his unheard remoteness troubled me more than anything on this earth. He was a good father till the time he was here. But he could never give me what I wanted. I wish I could make him happy, but nothing could have stopped him. I kept on waiting till the time we could stop him, but now its more peaceful. I don’t wake up each morning with a worry to stop him, I hope he is happy although there is no other joy than to stay blessed and watch your children grow. I get that happiness but none other. I have wept for countless nights, never in front of him. ” Now she could no more hold her tears, Naval wept with her. He never knew this side of his mother. He wished his father did not leave him, he could not understand why he had to leave. Today he did. There was no more self pity, no more sorrow, just acceptance and realization. She spoke again, “I am happy now.” The undercurrent had surfaced; Something that was never understood. “I want you to go and find for yourself what you want, without withholding you back, for nothing would change in these 8 months. You have to fulfill the emptiness that has been residing in this house forever.”

With a nimble movement she put her hand on his head, clouds cleared. Dampness gave way to sunshine. Naval smiled. Kissed his mother on the forehead, she smiled too. Sheela, kept the tea to boil, it smelled great. Akshay entered the room, for the first time he woke up to the sound of giggles in the house. He could feel the wave of composure; he smiled and gave his brother a pat on the back.

bas wahi mujhe paoge

Bheed main jab shamil hoke

Gumsum se kahi  khoke

Jab tanha tum hojaoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

Raste raahen galliyo main jab

Musafir banke nikaljaoge

Jab Soch main doobkar tum muskuraoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

Ho khushiyon ki chaaya

Ya  gham ki ho aandhi

Jab apna koi paas chahoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

Sarsarati hui thandi hawa jab chu jayegi

Rim-jhim si boonde jab barkha sang aayengi

Mithi si muskan liye jab palkhe jhapkaoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

Manzil ki or badhte jana

Ho kitni bhi chattane unko paar kar jana

Jab manzil tak aajaoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

To kya hua agar manzil tak nahi pahuche

Nirash na hona dost-Jo apna tha hi nahi uspe kya rona

Na badh sako agar, beech raah ruk jaoge

Bas wahi mujhe paoge

Jab doston ke saath guzare lamhe sataenge

Jab wo nasamajh baatein, nadan mulakate, wo choti choti yadein taza ho jayengi

Ek saathi, humsafar ka jab saath chahoge , bas wahi mujhe paoge

Personal vs professional ETHICS

Personal and Professional ethics go hand in hand. Ethics can be defined as a belief system that an individual holds on to while carrying out day to day activities. It cannot be a set of defined norms or regulations; in fact it is a way of life. One consciously doesn’t builds their beliefs nor do their thinking take shape overnight, they are established through experiences of childhood in the aforementioned environments.

The definition of right and wrong does not change for a person based on the environment. If honesty is a principal that one holds onto at home, he will also pursue it at work. 'Trust but verify' builds reliance on others and it is rare that one can find other psychic constituents in the workplace or in life for that matter.  There are certain people who you would blindly trust, but this cannot be categorized under personal or professional. You will take their advice in both personal and professional stances.  

                I agree that there are certain situations wherein we have to prioritize between personal and professional life, but our conscience summons us to balance the two without being partial to one. Our moral beliefs guide us unconsciously to do the right thing. An ethically strong person will never tend to use undue means to rise the corporate ladder.

                All of us have gone through situations where we have had to choose between right and wrong. I can relate to one such incident, I came across a bug in my code in the last phase of the development lifecycle.  It was highly probable that it could go unnoticed and could be quietly fixed it in the next release. But it would have spoiled our relations with the client if at all it was caught. Even though it was my profession, I made a personal choice to stick to my beliefs.

It is human instinct to categorize things between right and wrong, but these definitions differ from person to person but not from one environment to other.

The most inspiring Poem of all times

If—
by 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 wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe 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!

Robert Frost

Nothing Gold Can Stay
by Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.