The road back home

Road trips for road warriors are always meaningful. Specially if it is familiar road, one which you take very frequently. But today was different. For some reasons unknown to me. It was the familiar road from BIAL  Bangalore airport to home. Each time I come back from trip. It is always in my mind some kind of trip review. Sometimes I will be happy and drunk on the success of trip, sometimes pensive about losing a big order. Sometimes I will be relieved , sometimes overjoyed to have the prospect of getting a warm hug from Amrita and Birsa. Many a times full of resolve to do something new. But today I was feeling tired  and sad. Very sad. Usually the meru cabs will fly on the road and I will marvel. Today somehow I felt betrayed, unrecognized and bit sidelined. Maybe it was the same feeling that Alexander the great got when he was returning back from the bank's of Indus. Maybe my accomplishment will someday be recognized and recorded. Years of hard work will be rewarded. I live on hope.. I look forward.

काश

काश यह हो पाता
वो मेरी होती
और मैं उसका।
काश यह हो पाता
सपनो में उन्हें पाने की जगह
वो होती मेरी हर ख़ुशी की वजह।
तलाश ना जाने किसकी हैं इन आँखों को,
हासिल हैं बहुत कुछ....
मगर तसल्ली फिर भी नहीं..
वो याद आये यूँ ही बहुत..
की लौट आएं सब सिलसिले...
वो ठंडी हवा, वो  गिरते पत्ते
और वो नवंबर का महीना।
याद हैं अभी भी मुझे
वो गम,
जो नही हुआ कभी कम।
इतना प्यार,
फिर भी कुछ ना पाने का गम।
कितनी बातें
बस मन में थाम,
चल पड़ा मैं फिर दिल को थाम।
दोपहर हो आयी जिंदगी की
ठंडी शाम की हैं स्थिति,
तब जाके कहीं वो मिली हस के
कुछ चंद मिनटों में,
निकल ही गया मेरे से
क्या था मेरा सपना
जो उसे साथ न दे पाया।
प्यारी सी हँसी हस के
उसने निगल गयी
मेरी इच्छा को।
कह दी बस मेरे सुकुन के लिए
फिर कहीं, फिर कभी।

The Squall

The lighting breaks afar

signalling that soon we will have 

relief from hot weather.

The gust of wind 

brings the sweet smell of 

water inside the air.

The small plant bows

with seeds yet to sow

With painful eye

of squall 

Sudden declaration of 

thunder

its here--

The hot and humid afternoon turn into 

an unruly tempest

Bringing up memories of past

Better not to think.

The squall within-

brings the tear drops

As if it was stalled 

for long.

The high winds- gets

slow

as fast as it 

showed

its fury

its lightening

Bring up Baba by Birsa- 3

Summer holidays have started. These are the time- I enjoy because it gives more time to interact with Birsa. As both myself and Amrita work and there will be 6 weeks when we have these small problem-- of leaving Birsa alone at home. Till last year- we will put him to summer camps. The straight talker that Birsa is-- he complained 2 years in row-- " these classes are not teaching me anything that i donot know". This year he was very clear and adamant- he doesnot want to join the summer camps and waste money. But he is like any 10 year old and we were worried how he can manage alone till one of us return home everyday. Thankfully my mother in law decided to spend 2 weeks with us and that was a great relief.Add to it due to general elections- we had this week- which had 4 days holiday in row.
Birsa does not mince word about the feedback he gives. innocent words but pointed. Though he is very diplomatic with all others but with me he shoots directly. I take those feedback as gift and opportunity to learn & improve.This year also i bought lot of worksheets and experimented with different kind of activities. But I do get excited and my sense of discipline sometimes makes me scold him. He gave a pointed feedback few days back- "I know when you scold you want me to avoid wrong, but you can always point out the wrong and allow me to correct rather than shouting". I was like--- .... OMG......So I asked --" was that a feedback?"-- he told yes... it was a point to improve and gave me that studied look.
Talking about feedback--
During her stay with us my mother-in-law had this practice of making sherbet ( a Varanasi version of lemonade)- twice a day. I also got it 2-3 times and felt that it was easy to make. Yesterday- when summer activities were bit boring and my emails/calls all over- I thought to give it a try. I become a full fledged chemistry student inside kitchen-- and that is why I am barred to carry out much activities by Amrita. However - it was just lemonade.. so I got my chance. I did accurate measures of sugar, lemon was properly de-seeded, and put in equal measures.Right mix of cold and hot water was done and then ice cubes were given. Finally the end result was tasted-- i found it to good to go.
After i served it to both-- Amrita's feedback as usual is -- Good ( condescending teacher that she is!!! never gives feedback which hurts in any way). Birsa's feedback was very interesting. umm.. baba- it is good , rather very good, but still not as good as Dimaiya's  (my mother in law) one. Seeing my puzzled look he assured- I will still give you 8 out of 10. You missed tiny bit of salt and forgot to put love as much as Dimaiya does.

A very valuable lesson and feedback for me. In pursuit of excellence- whether it is solving customer problem or helping a maker/start up realize the product- do i not get into all business and forget that love part?
So - love more, judge less, work harder and make it better.

A simple thought for the other half

She was in her zone. In those special times when she is focused and knows what to do and how to do. When the what, why and where is clear in mind. Something to do and leave a mark. It was not much about money but there was this nagging ache somewhere... Ohh to be recognised as greatest in the world. She of all people, being very practical knew it is not easy... It was damn difficult but she also knew it was not impossible. Like any ordinary person who has huge bag load of ambition and eyes full of dream.. she wanted to make a difference. She was the lovely fighter, and never wants to give up. So what she got married at tender age despite being one of the smartest in university. So what she had to adopt a family and follow the norms of society. So what she was told 'this is it'. Remain satisfied with what you got and stop dreaming about yourself. You are allowed to dream only about others, help others to achieve their dream. Life long 'sewa'.  But she dreamed
....
Dreamed to be someone to be recognised. Someone to make difference and get recognised. Little hatke. With fiery desire...In her heart. Was there support?. Yes.. but limited.

Does the above paragraph seems cliche. It is..The same story in and around you , my dear man... And we the superb men of India act like ostrich and keep our head inside the sand. Not out of fear but sheer lack of empathy. That has made us lose a huge chunk of precious human capital. I wonder if we could have harnessed this 'sakti' properly ..How will we be benefitted. It will be sheer astronomical gain.
How do I contribute to.make it better for her?
As a start, encourage and encourage. There are enough people to say negatives and pull her down. I don't want to be the one.
Because I wonder even if I the one third the zeal what she has... I would be a much better man.
And they deserve my unconditional love. Love which is without agenda and love which is without any expectation.
Third, they will face conflicts from different players  and layers of relationship. I will have to help her, sometimes i may seema foolish but let it be.  She deserve to have atleast one who thinks the world of her and loves her a little too much.
Will it make any big impact?
The jury will be out till there will be some visible results. But yes, there will be eternal satisfaction... I tried.

P.S.. and-Then there is this lady whom i love little too much.. who would like to sleep a little bit more. I want her to be guilt free and often tell it is ok to let her hair down a bit-- it is ok to have different push and pull in life. Have so many commitments at different front. anyways seven hours is must at this age and profile. We can never compare or strive to be another Modi-- that relentless prime minister who i wonder when he rests.. and still achieves so much more. Lead a lovely and blessed life.

Identity Crisis

It is election time- 2019 General elections. Elections in India is a spectacle, it is dance of democracy and festival of democracy. An exercise- which is very interesting for a person like me. Even tough i take deep interest in politics and have moderate to lenient view on most of the hot topics that effect us in and around, but still I got some germinating ideas. First it started with the most brilliant marketing blitzkrieg by Mr. Narendra Modi. He started with this superb idea of adding 'chowkidar' in front of everyone's name. I feel this one move itself-- just to let identify his loyalists with a tag of watchmen is taking him to success. Means- who will not like to identify as watchmen for his country, ever watchful, common person. I was tempted too to do the same- then i questioned myself. Have i not een watchful enough all these 4 decades. Didn't i watch first television in community viewing area- the mass outpouring of grief after assassination of Indira Gandhi, she was mass popular politician. She was revered but had her shortcomings. But curiously TV entered through Asiad and during live telecast of her final journey. I remember as a 8 year old boy- people identifying themselves with black badge of remorse. Then those riots-- sikhs getting killed. Extremism everywhere. I also identified myself with left politics at its height. When it was fashion to say 'lal selam'. Anybody having was bourgoius...a term imported from Russia. and it was fashion to identify one with downtrodden. I read all available literature on left politics. I identified more with socialism. The isms clouded my entire schooling. Ideologies of ultra left to ultra right-- right from marxism, leninism and calls of ' duniya ke majdoor ek ho' to ' inkilab jindabad' all seem to me good. The social work of RSS, books of veer savarkar, hedgewar jostled with classics and das kapital too. Participating and working with international red cross, Rotract club- gave me more exposure. More identity. Each identity was as unique and colorful as today's ' main bhi chowkidar'. Participating in social activities- CRY, scouts, ncc, along with playing with all types of kids TT, hockey and kabaddi-- suddenly made me a person who questioned every 'ism... every damn thought process. I took to reading Swami Vivekananda, paramhamsha, read Gita, kuran and all vedas. some i understood, some were like- whats that?
Identity never became clear to me.
The reservations during mandal commission- frustrated me- still does. The missed opportunities- still made me feel I am very high caste!!! There were times- dark enough to make me forget all pains and jump into work head long.
Now when the identity crisis looms too much- I find solace in my own world. The identity crisis is real.
And I am fine. Because - we need to ascertain with basics of humanity.
I believe in doing good to others. My identity revolves around integrity and honesty. At various stages of life- i had done mistakes, learnt from them. corrected them and i am just fine.
I still believe in power of love. I still identify strongly with various -isms.. and all at same time. There will be time- when people will accuse that I have not taken a stand- so what? need we be correct always?
So what is my identity- A patriotic Indian, who loves his fellow being. I love the life and work i do and believe in helping others. Rest all- let it remain as identity crisis.
I am just fine.