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Rahul opened his eyes to face a new morning 

He took the first step toward getting into the virtual black hole that he opted to get sucked into voluntarily. He chose a topic and found a WhatsApp group: a holy ground for the pundits of politics to engage in a fierce debate of international affairs.  He took a side which he thought he had points to make. He then made a deep dive into the scholarly debate. Just like popular TV new channel debaters who desire to give the nation an answer, he went full-on. He took on the most forceful debater friend on the group. He chose the contrary viewpoint to this debater friend.  Because of Rahul’s lack of knowledge he had previously shied away from his duty to contribute to the pressing matters of the world on this holy ground. However, this time he came fully prepared with adequate notes. He battled like a soldier on a battlefront and resulted in the surrender of the opposition party.  To date, he had been the least contributor in the group thus people started noticing him and inserting their support to him to take on the hardest debater in the group. He knew underdog gets the most support.  He went so personal that he offended his friend a few times and as a result, the most feared debater quit the group. The same friend unfriended him on Facebook. He felt this to be the collateral damage to the larger pressing cause. He felt bad at heart for losing someone as a friend/acquaintance who did not know him that well. Boy, the day well spent. He made a summary of his thoughts on the issue and posted it on FB. He got many likes. The next day onward he chose another group and another topic. He felt his life was well connected to all his current and past friends. But this had its flip side as well. He felt a constant need (urge) to check every forum for the latest comments, tags, mentions. Also, he got into unnecessary fights with few people. But he had conquered his final digital frontier.

It all happened one day earlier. That day also had started like just another lockdown day...

Mughal and Google

The golden sun rays finally hit the divine atmosphere of the temple where Ram had spent his entire night with a troubled mind. The golden sun rays clearing off the mist encouraged Ram to wake up and end the dilemma churning in his mind throughout the course of the night. He stepped out of the temple. A strong breeze was mingling around him. It was as if, the breeze had the purpose of clearing the view so that Ram could see the taller core fort rising inside mountainous walls of the main fort clearly. It was a serene early morning ambiance. Clouds were drifting across the valley comprising of fields, rivers and villages spread till the distant mountains. For a moment, Ram felt he was in heaven with the Gods .This view surged a sense of belonging within In the midst of this beautiful early morning atmosphere, why is Ram’s mind restless? It was sunny outside, but it was stormy within Ram’s inner mind. Well, it was a clear decision till yesterday. But was it all about the place where he was or was it about some strange guilt lying somewhere down for no apparent logical reason. But then why was this confusion? His mind zoomed past events in his young life.

Game Set and Match

Game Set Match

My father called me very late in a winter evening. He stays merely a 10 minutes’ drive away from my house where I live with my wife and kid. I had just completed another long day at the office. As I freshened up and was heading towards dining table, I received the call.

He said: “Rajabhau is no more. He passed away in hospital today at 7 30 pm. Cremation is at Vaikunth at around 10”

I told him that I will pick him up in around half an hour from then.

Rajabhau was very ill and hospitalized. Last week his son and daughter flew from US which indicated the gravity of the situation. My father also did some hospital duties being close to him since their schooldays.

We reached at Vaikunth crematorium where a large gathering was waiting for the mortal remains to reach. He was a popular man across the segments of society: professional, social and personal. He was a social worker to feature in the credit rolls off many marriages that happened in Pune and nearby for almost three decades after the emergency.  He was initially a sales guy turned businessman who later undergone transformation as an IT guy. Yours truly can make it to the credit rolls in that upgradation if you can call it as one. Many IT professionals though will disagree looking at the work they do despite the terminology of words they use to describe their profession and use extensively while they carry out their profession.  Coming from an established family he had plenty of branches of relatives and due his people first attitude had wide range of friends. Many of them had gathered at the crematorium.

Brothers in Arms: Tale of Two Soldiers

Brothers in Arms

It was my first month in this new continent. Thankfully it was summertime helping me cope up with the climate which is very much different from India.  Having moved to this city suburb, it was time to search and fix everything starting with a house, vehicle, furniture, electronics and whatever it takes to satisfy the comforts of modern life I was used to in India. One can manage everything except warmth and familiarity of home and of course domestic support. The summer days are really long when sun gods bid you an adieu only after 9 pm primetime slot that too after the display of variety of the shades of illumination reflecting your own shades of emotions as the day progresses.  The day was hectic starting with working on three time zones  ahead at work , followed by synchronizing with existing time-zone followed by ticking off other household list after the working hours. Life without Car in an American suburb is same as life without a two wheeler in Pune both of which are worse than being without a camel in a desert or without a boat in an Ocean. I had gone to a car dealership owned by a contact in distant suburb in the opposite direction of my house to explore some options. Thanks to some work in the office and missed bus timings, I was delayed for more than an hour. I ended my work at the dealership and rushed towards the bus stop which was at 15 minutes’ walk from the dealership to catch the bus which was the last bus of the day at 9 pm having missed 8 pm bus planned.   The walk was a pleasant one as sun was still shining on Uncle Sam’s Empire. The best part about New England suburb towns is the nature and elegant houses which can be very pleasant to the eyes. The locality was deserted especial one of the roads which was wooded with no houses lining it. As I was walking, a SUV going in same direction of my walk, zoomed past and braked to engage me in a conversation.  This does not happen here. I was alarmed. There was a couple who shocked me by asking if I wanted to buy a camera. I found it strange and obviously ignored. They followed me mentioning that they were pickpocketed and needed some money for food. They were not beggars so wanted trade their camera for cash they needed. I told I did not need Camera. Suddenly the male half of the couple got out of the SUV and threatened me with a knife asking me to give me whatever money I had. I was scared and thought about reaching my cell for emergency call. But the lady in car pointed a gun asking me not to do anything silly. I requested them not to do anything as I value my life more than dollars I had. But somehow out of nowhere a car zoomed in from the other direction. The driver of that car assessed the situation immediately and put his car between both of us (guy and me) on pavement and the lady in the SUV and in such a way that the SUV could not move without reversing. I realized that the lady’s gun was out of equation and I could run. I ran a distance to realize the good guy in the car and had neutralized the bad guy in SUV by hitting him on the knife holding hand in such a way that the knife was dropped. The bad guy ran to his SUV, Backed and zoom passed the other car. The good guy noted down SUV number.  He approached me asking me if I were ok. I thanked him for his timely intervention. The guy was 6 ft 3 inch tall, wearing glasses, extremely fit and dressed in black T-shirt and Jeans, handsome just like any hero out of a Hollywood Movie in his late thirties. After taking necessary actions to report to the authorities,  we came out of the Police Headquarters of that suburban Town. He volunteered to drop me off to my house as there was no public transport available by then. While driving he introduces himself as Aaron Albert Ambrose a   Veteran ex-Army Man and an Industrial Contractor. As we started our one   hour journey, he said “Gun Control is the biggest Challenge in this country”.  Was it a Déjà vu?                     ‘’ Corruption Control is the biggest challenge in this country” said Cap SS Sharma to me in the higher reaches of Himalayas five years back.

Mail That Did Not Bounce

 (This is my humble tribute, mediocre effort and  poor attempt to rever and respect my favorite writers, their style , the central plot, etc . PL  Deshpande and PG Wodehouse are my Idols. Please not that thios is work of fiction and all charatcters are imaginary.)

Today Mr and Mrs Bhatavadekar are the esteemed guests for dinner at our place. I am worried about how I should face them after almost a decade.. Actually I am feeling guilty that instead of being happy and excited about the reunion with someone who had been my best friend during most of my teens and young adulthood. But I am scared about both the past and the  future. Let me take back to the past first to explain root cause of my worries in present and define effects of present in my future.

When I say past , I mean those glorious college days with lots of friends, events, treks, picnics, restaurant food, movies, dramas when in Pune and Infinite fun of hostel life at a remote place. Life was an succession of events as endless like an Ekta Kapoor serial plot where something happens all the time. The most arduous task in life during those days was attending the lectures at 8 am in the morning after waking up at 7 45am squeezing breakfast in between. The most testing times were at the end of each semester where we would attend an event called as End Term Exams. The most bizarre task was to get inside my digestive system the most tasteless, pungent smelling and uncooked food someone can ever eat. I don’t know how I could have survived without  those omelets and Maggie dishes served at Naren Da (made to sound as NOren Da in Bengal) night canteen. The best parts of the life were the summer and winter vacations in Pune.

The past which I referring to was enacted in one of those winter vacations and the protagonist was my best friend Harshavardhan popularly knows at HB pencil. The genesis of this name was his pencil like tall and thin stature and his initials. Harshavardhan Bhatavadekar is a long name and if you add middle name it becomes an infinite loop. His father’s name is Shrinivas. I wonder if he gets enough space on the forms he need to fill in. I and HB met at preschool and had been together like a pillow and cushion till we parted ways after 12 th to different Engineering Colleges. We also had few other boys and girls in our motley group. We had named our group as MTV (empty vessels) as we made lot of noise. We had Prakash the eternal  forgetful day dreamer, Sumedh aka KK Kishore Kumar , Seema the emotional fool, Pradnya the fighter. HB was the joker and they called me scholar for my scholastic skills. I parted the group to join my far off college in middle of nowhere..

As we met in that eventful vacation, I found HB always lost like a passenger waiting for his Departure gate  to be announced at an European Airport. He was very uncharacteristically quiet  like a tap in a house where the water supply is cut due to non payment.  I could not trace the reason. I tried to talk to him but the guy avoided the topic like one avoids karela sabzi in the plate . But I am as persistent as a tele-caller. Sunset is the best time and any hill around Pune is the best place for one to feel more philosophical and feel an urge to open out to someone like one feels an impulse to throw out after smelling rotten fish. But what HB threw out was expression of his love he felt for Seema.

Short Story: Closed Circuit

Please note that this is story is a fiction and no such characterss exists in reality.

Closed Circuit

Last week I was driving my daughter to an industry in Branford CT for her visit. The road passes through countryside which resembles Indian landscape especially in konkan. There were farms, hills, winding small roads, cattle, tin covered houses.  There was hardly any traffic either ways. We were using GPS. At one place there was cemetery with many crosses on a vast ground. Road winds through the cemetery. GPS asked me to turn left and take a U turn. It happened few times. I panicked and my thinking was clouded as well. Maybe its human psychology. I thought we were caught in Closed Circuit popularly know as ‘Chakwa’ in Marathi. Suddenly I remembered by grandmother who had once said to break the circuit (chakwa) you should pray god and do take new unknown path. I did that we reached a highway and were then properly guided by GPS till destination.

I remember in my childhood my grandfather Grand Mother used to narrate story to all grandchildren about Closed Circuit. Her native village was in border district of Belgaum between Maharashtra and Karnataka. The incident happened in 1920s. She and her 4-5 siblings were traveling back to her village after attending marriage in neighboring village.It was getting dark and road passed through a Forest area. The driver of the bullock cart asked kids to take a blanket and pray to God. Kids asked questions but driver asked them to be quiet. Later when they reached home the driver told my grandmothers father that he was caught in Closed Circuit. Finally he took the cart uphill on non conventional road and reached their village safely

This experience also took me back 20 years ( Bees saal baad) 

Not so short story titled contemporary as "Bharat Bandh"

 I was in hurry to reach my office on that day in March .  I live in a good locality and have to travel a significant distance too my office. I have to cross a prime junction so avoided using my car on day when Bharat Bandh is called by opposition party in Center who is ruling in state. I had taken work from home option a day before and only key staff was to report to office that too in a minibus rented for the day at premium price.. Unexpectedly due to my past work resulting in sizable work increase and there was urgency for me to reach office. These efforts of mine could possibly earn significant revenue for my company. I had to be in office and would need to be before US west coast evening civil hours.  I immediately called the company for a transport vehicle, but that vehicle would take long time to reach reach me. I started looking for public transport without any result. I started walking. I turned to see a jeep coming from behind. The jeep stopped near me. The driver   asked if he can drop him. I told the office address. He asked for 140 Rs/-. I didn’t care as I had to reach. I jumped on to vehicle and opened a laptop and started making few more notes on points I had to tell the team and the clients. I never noticed a cop sitting near the driver. As soon as I Got inside van , I took out my laptop to prepare and was oblivious to outside world. I did not know the driver’s name of for that matter any of the other co-passenger’s which the Jeep guy offered ride. But as events unfolded I knew each character and their stories later. Lets start explaining with Driver who name was Gopi.

Gopi had an old Mahindra jeep which he had bought from his brother in law who had Midas touch of turning anything that he touched into gold. His BIL was a tout, his business was to manage everything and still aloof of everything. He was was a Politician now as corporator Bharat Jawale . He commanded respect in the society for no apparent reason. He was called Bharat Dada by everyone. He could get someone new gas connection, could threaten someone, get someone out of lockup, manage any procession or riot or a crowd as per need. He was into real estate, he was into food with a small hotel, he owned fleet of veheciles, managed RTO or government work. He used to wear thick gold plate.

Gopi’s sister and Bharat were married 5 years back. It was a proper arranged marriage. Gopi’s sister was a pretty girl.. Bharat seemed to be a man of world with a lot of alleged alliances all over. But when it came to marriage his parents had selected Gopi’s sister Ratna. Gopi was always a loser trying to manage fathers poultry business which one day became nonviable. Bharat on Ratna’s insistence had called one day Gopi to Bharat’s office as a corporator and party functionary. That day corporator Bharat was at inauguration function of a bar. So ofcourse was in his ‘senses’. There was a small tiff between an honest corporation officer and Bharat. So Gopi was welcomed with a usual banter and some unsophisticated rowdy bad words by Bharat.  That day Bharat had made an offer to Gopi to buy one of his old jeeps .  Gopi had expected a fair market price of 25K for that old vehicle. But he said he is obliging him by giving him the jeep for 45K. He should work hard to travel people from his locality to city center. He also assured that he will do the setting with RTO for not harassing him for bribes and allow him to make Rs 300 per day making it 9000 rs per month out of which he can pay Bharat 1k  per month for next 4 years so jeep will be all his own. He knew had been fleeced but cannot say a word against Bharat who was god in his house. That day onwards Gopi used to start his day at 6 am reaching many people and end by 10 pm at night. Sometimes he did night duty to earn extra. On his best day he could earn 200 Rs over all costs. On normal day it could be no more than 150 . Night duties used to earn him 100 Rs extra.. He used to fleece unsuspected passengers, tourists and earn more so he could repay back his loan. Last night he had heard that Bharat’s party which was a national party had organized Bharat Bandhh against some govt policies. So he had requested Bharat’s colleagues to not allow municipal buses to ply and thus he could earn more that day.He asked Bharat to help him with some inside help from system.

On that eventful day in March,  all roads were supposed to be blocked by activists, all shops were forced to close and so on. He went to Constable who was suppose to be in Van to allow smooth package. He had to share his jackpot that was worth. Constable entered jeep and sat next to driver Gopi. He had just picked up a man in white shirt with tie and told him a fare of 140 Rs to his destination  Guy did not care.. He was sure he could get five such more on sharing basis and he could do 3 such more trips. Windfall but with risk. But with Bharat to support he was not  worried.

Is Everything Fair in Love and War?

  

On a gloomy day in August I think six to seven years back, we sat in the conference room of my office, to decide future with our company of an Employee whom I would refer to by the name of Napoleon . This name has a background. Background goes back to battle of Waterloo fought by Napoleon and British/Prussian forces under Wellington.

War Story goes like this:

Both Napoleon and Wellington knew that the wild card of the battle is Blucher’s Prussian Army. Napoleon knew that he will have troubles defeating both the British and the Prussians. Wellington knew as well, that if the Prussian Army does not come to rescue them, they will be defeated.

But Napoleon was faced with a dilemma and forced to make a tough decision. Two days before Waterloo, Napoleon won another battle. But his cavalry and infantry were tired, and the night before the battle, there was rain. Napoleon was faced with a decision to wade his army through mud and tire them during the early stage of the battle, or wait another day for the ground to try out. Waiting one more day meant risking Prussian reinforcement for the British Army.

In hindsight, his decision to wait was what cost him the battle, and the War eventually. After Waterloo, Napoleon never managed to regroup, as the defeat signaled the end of his era.

Coming Back to August day in our conference room. Napoleon was employed in our Admin department who was entrusted to create, supervise and submit time sheets to clients. There were many mistakes after first month of training and there were escalation from clients. We made him work under experienced admin guys but showed no sign of improvement after 3 months. We ask him what needs to be done to improve. But he said he does not have idea and would step down on his own if we want. We consent and there was end of association with Napoleon and my company. His wry smile all the while really made me intrigued and be perplexed as how some people can lose control over one’s life and take it so lightly.

Year passed by. I had an opportunity to buy new house. Shifting house is really a challenge. Lots of things to plan: Interiors, electrical wiring, electronic good purchase and setup, mattresses, sofas, TV sat connection, lighting, landscaping, power backup, security, and most important Internet connectivity. Now as they say there are four basic needs. Food , clothes, shelter and wifi. I had coordinated with a broadband company. The sales guy was supposed to meet me on Saturday. My wife and daughter had a day out with my wife’s friend. So was enjoying solitude with music, reading etc. Them the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Napolean. He introduced himself as sales guy from broadband. I filled the forms, gave him the cheque and my house was promised to be wired by Monday.

I offered him tea. He consented. Over the cup of tea, I initialed a conversation just like “Chai pe charcha”.

My first question was : “Are you settled in this job and are you enjoying it?”

 Napoleon: “ No, I hate chasing clients and dance on their whims and fancy. After your company this is my third job in an year”

Me: “ so what do you want to do in future”

Napoleon: “No Idea”

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Detective

Prelude:

I accidentally ran into an alternate occupation which I had I never dreamed. As a child, like a majority of kids, I had dreamed of being a truck/bus driver or wanted to be a policeman. But the events unfolded in the month of March actually found a hidden talent in myself. You can call this entire episode as Serendipity amid ides of March (only for those studying for verbal MCQ competitive tests).

It started with the housing society committee meeting held in August earlier year. I am part of managing committee. Our society is complex of 8 building each having 11 floors and each floor having 6 “luxurious flats with latest amenities and facilities” as published in ads and brochure published by the promoter” . Thus we were a village of 528 families. In first two three years of completion all flats got sold thanks to a new planned 80 ft wide road access and social establishments coming up. So we are one of the prestigious residential complex in the area. Committee meetings are stormy with various issues, personal grudges, egos and rules termed as society by laws which are unclear to most.

In that meeting, we had an agenda of granting NOC of sale of flat which was exactly one floor below that of mine. The current owner an IT professional had his GC filed in US for long term assignment. The buyer was a party from Mumbai. We deliberated with a letter to owner to pay transfer charges, and let us know details of new owner for records. The owner then provided the detailed paid and their registration documents were submitted for records. As per details provided by current owner, Mumbai based party had multiple business interests. This flat purchase was personal investment as and also they were planning to have a unit near Pune in future.

Marching Ahead

Someone, Somewhere, Somehow Always....

My story is about that day in late 90s since when I met someone in remotest jungle.  

Late nineties were some interesting times. We had seen liberalization for half a decade. Sachin the wonder boy had added multimillion coffers to BCCI and himself.  IT industry was booming thanks to Y2k bugbear created by one of the masterminds in IT space. Things were promising. I had bagged the best paid job in IIT campus then.  With my first job in pocket felt like a king. I was a yuppie all set to conquer the world. I stayed at company provided quarters in city like Mumbai. I used to be chauffeured in a company provided car to commute from office to Home. My first pay cheque had created ripples in my house. My company sent me to Bangalore by newly launched Jet Air. I stayed at a five star hotel in Bangalore. Every weekend we partied in south Bombay on Friday night. And i use to visit my home in Pune on Saturday morning. I used to have another party on Saturday night in Pune and travel back to Mumbai Sunday evening.  Life was a big party. My whole family was excited and whole world seemed to be at feet.

But then this was not what i was happy with.  I wanted to gain experience for maximum an year and then move on to greener pastures either though GRE or GMAT. Who wants to remain just a techie in life?

 On a long weekend we decided to trek from Lonavala to Bhimashankar.

Somewhere in November few of my friends at a trekking group which i was a part of in Pune till twelfth, planned a trek on a long weekend. I had done many treks in Sahyadris and Himalayas with this group. So it was all set to meet at Lonavala station Friday Morning. They would be taking local train from Pune and i was to take a express train from Thane.

We met at Lonavala station. And three people ditched us at last moment. Actually six were confirmed including me.  But only Milind and Shailesh had turned up. The group size of six was good enough from safety, logistics point of view for an unknown trek. We felt, three of us was bit of a small group that too when we had no one who had done the same trek in past. But then we decided not to back out. Three again is a tricky number. Anyone less would have resulted in cancellation but three is a crowd as they say.  And anything negative was not a part of our thought process at that age and during those times we were in. So we decided to move on. All other logistics were planned. Each one was to get dry ration which we planned to cook, some light snacks, water etc. So the SAM group (based on our first names) started towards destination with very small information about route and lot of overconfidence

As we left the station we were approached by a small boy who was begging for money. He was so thin and his clothes were ragged.   He asks for 5 Rupees. I lecture him that he should stop begging and go to school and so on. He completely ignored me with a look which made me look stupid. He approached Shailesh and Milind who also drove him away. The look on his face really made me think if i was right in lecturing him. Did he gain some wisdom or lost Rs 5/- using which he could have bought at least some food which was still possible in late nineties? Today i don’t think Rs 5/- can buy you any food. And it was not like that i had put any great thought in my lecture as it was just out of my habit and an assumed high moral ground and saved Rs 5.

Trek went ahead with small ST Ride taking us to the base camp village.  As we got down from the bus, we were swarmed by small boys who wanted us to use their services as a route guide. There were few trekkers also in the same ST bus. They also faced same fate of being pestered by those boys.  One boy approached me and asked if we needed guide. Taking a guide was so out of fashion for ‘know it all’ people like us. But still Milind out of his habit to study every minute detail of information, asked him that what should we use guide and at what cost.  Not surprisingly Milind remained topper throughout his career. He then had a scholarship from a leading institute in US and was to fly there next semester. Shailesh worked for big automobile company in Pune.

“There are two possible routes. One route is easier where even bullock carts can ply. It is almost 7-8 km longer route. Other one is difficult and has a steep climb which turns into straight rock patch which needed to be treaded carefully. Also the road is very difficult to find” said the boy in local Marathi dialect hard to understand.

Milind asked how much will he charge

“Rs 300”

That amount was not large divided between three of us. But then out of habit we negotiated. Do we negotiate anything in super malls, branded shops where we know prices were high even for the quality of product? Do we ever bargain at multiplex while paying Rs 300 for an idiotic movie? But then these are soft targets.

“No we can consider if you take Rs 200/-“ i said

Boy simply refused. He said if he accepts that rate then all other guides will scold him for undercutting.

How can a village boy refuse us? India is poor country and even Rs 200 is big amount for these poor guys. We tried again but guys simply refused. We asked other boys as well. They seemed to be all acting in tandem. Few boys got customers. Others waited for the next ST bus arriving from Kamshet in next 10 mins. STs are somehow lifeline of remote villages in India. With all liberalization, privatization can any enterprise dare to start private buses in these areas. They will be in loss.  Thus the private players stick to the main routes. Debate on nationalization vs liberalization is eternal.  I have seen some private enterprise in northern hills but again they remain focused on cash rich routes.

But then it all rubbed on our egos and our over confidence to manage on our own finally sealed our decision to move ahead. We had saved another Rs 300/-. Milind had a friend who had done this trek so he had studied some details about the shorter route. But then his information was very sketchy. For eg. As you reach a small hamlet on main road, take a small walkway adjoining a rivulet as you reach the mountain, turn right to climb. Leave aside two sparrows (as we call the hillocks) continue walking and start climbing the waterfall.

We started by main route and we had few other trekking groups walking close by. All was fine. We reached the small hamlet in late afternoon after walking for almost for two-three hours. Weather was fine as winters were just about setting in after a good monsoon. But then even in late November sun beats you down in early and late afternoon.  We were bit tired. We decided to wait for snacks.. Other groups who were better guided somehow chose to go ahead using well established longer route guided by locals.  But we the conquerors of the world want to do things differently. And we don’t like crowds that too at such scenic location.

We had our snacks and left for the route by early evening.  Now we were guided by our own misinformation. We started traversing sparrow. While calculating three sparrows we also counted a small upward hillock popularly known as ‘Dumba’. Sparrows are triangular by definition while ‘dumba’s are like small thumb. So we made a mistake and turned left to climb along the dry waterfall as guided by our informants. The climb was treacherous. At a point we believed we were lost. But then coming back was so stupid. Instead we thought lets climb up and then find our way as we reach up.  The climb was most difficult climb we had ever done without mountaineering kit. And it was almost dark as we reached the top.

And we knew we were lost.  All possible avenues to reach main path were abandoned either in shrub or overlooking valley. So we were stop at top a mountain with only way ahead was to return back using the same path we climbed. But it was pitch dark by now so a climb down on that treacherous path was a bad idea. So what to do? We decided to camp on open. We found an open spot on the top.  We collected all dry wood sticks to light up camp fire for protection against animals and cold.  We searched for water but could not. We had only quarter of bottle left in someone’s bottle. So we decided to ration same. Cooking was ruled out as priority was drinking water. We had only last ¼ kg packet of salted bundi as snacks and some onions which we could roast on camp fire. We talked and talked.  We sang songs Marathi and hindi.  We ate that divine pack of namkeen. Ate roasted onions after some hard work to roast them. Finally drank quota of water and settled near the fire. It was 10 30 after all this. Night was dark and sky was starry away from city which was at least 30 km away. Could see some lights in the valley below giving us hope that there was civilization around and it was a just day break that we were waiting to reach those hamlets. We were tired so we decided to take our turns of sleeping while a single guy should keep watch. Mine was the easiest shift decided by toss. So i guarded first and rest slept. It was scary experience keeping watch in shrubs or from valley if any wild animal came. I started hearing strange noises of jungle or was that my own imagination. Those were the longest two hours of my life 11pm to 1 am. At 1 am i woke up studious Milind for his turn and went inside my sleeping bag. After some efforts of counting sheep, i dozed off. I woke up when suddenly Milind woke me up screaming at top of his voice. We saw something rushing into the bush? What was it? Was it a leopard or a hyena?  We were scared. I thanked Milind for being attentive and saving us all. Milind started screaming at Shailesh. In fact that was more a shout of anger of being cheated than real fear of unknown. Later i realized that Milind had kept his watch till 3 am and had woken up Shailesh. He then slept of. And it seemed Shailesh had dozed off while keeping watch. Even the fire was extinguished for lack of refuelling to be done. We three of us were soft targets for any worthy animal of any attack. But thanks to our lucky stars, Milind is a light sleeper and heard a grunt and swish of bushes and we were saved (?) from unknown by his scream. No one slept after that and we waited for the sunrise. We talked again. We had kept very small water for morning. As we saw lights of dawn on eastern skies, we really thanked nature to show life to all living beings with the most scared event called as sunrise. I bet it was the most beautiful sunrise i have ever seen in my life. Life teaches you everything. We the three conquerors were conquered by might of nature. And while taking journey back we learnt that there is victory in retreat as well.  But then we lost again. Our hopes to reach back were shattered as we realized that we could not find path back to water stream from where we had taken path up the hill. All our efforts were in vain as each time we ended up at cliff. And now we did not have water and food.

What will happen to my career, what will happen to my family, if we could not find road back. But then our hope was small hamlets we could see from top. But how to find path that would lead us to those human establishments?

Suddenly we heard a human cry to call cattle. We ran following the sound. We saw a small boy. It was first and only time in my life till now that i was so happy, relieved to see a poorly dressed stranger that too a small boy in his early teens. Life is a great leveller. He was surprised to see us there as maybe no one ventures there except the locals who mend cattle. We told him that we were lost. He gave us a look that is normally reserved for some villager by an upmarket city dweller.

He eagerly volunteered to take us to his hamlet from where we can walk to nearest ST pickup. He guided us through a very narrow road. We asked him what about his cattle, he said he will come again up and take them back. It was safe in daytime. He coolly told us about a stray leopard spotted in night which made us shivered remembering last night. He then offered us part of food he had paced with him. We declined either out of shame or out of concern for hygiene so typical for snobs like us. I am not sure.  His name he told was Kisan.

As we reached the hamlet, he invited us to his house. To our surprise we found that he was only able bodied person there. He managed a small rice farm, cows and sold some berries to the traders in village which was accessible by ST. He had seen school in that village but did not have time. But he had a friend there so whenever he went there tried to read or at least try to learn from him. His next project was to install pump in his rice farm. His hamlet was promised electricity by local administration. But he wanted to save money to buy one. In fact he had already located a second hand pump from village. That will save him some time using which he can study. By then his younger brother can help him with mending cattle. That will help both of them to study. He asked many things about cities, he had curiosity about how trains run, aeroplanes fly. He wanted to change village around him, bring school there. He wanted tar road, ST and school for his village. He said that he would not migrate to any city as many of his villagers did. He wanted to serve his village. He wanted to create a big farm where he could provide food to all. He wanted to create a rice mill so he could give jobs to all. He wanted to teach others so they could earn. He also had an entrepreneur mindset. He wanted to invest in   a second hand davy light that could help him guide trekkers who wanted night trek especially on full moon nights.  So he can earn more even during nights

Who taught him all this? That took me to next level of thoughts, if such kids be given proper training in real world what would they achieve.  He was a very likable guy. He offered us food again but insisted we had tea, so we could not refuse. We wanted to thank him. We offered him to pay money but he simply refused saying he had not done anything and as per his village oath he would nver refuse to help guests. We did not have even chocolate to thank him.   We bid him farewell and walked our way to reach ST point. We reached kamshet by ST from there to Pune and then to my job

And i compared myself. On the same day when someone like Kisan saved us,  we refused Rs 5 for empty moral rightness to a begger boy of same age, bargained for Rs 100 to poor local guide of same age.   We only cared about ourselves. If i were put in same situation of that boy, would i have helped strangers? Forget strangers, do we even help our friends, relatives in need? Would I have been that positive, generous helpful in such gloomy conditions where he lived? That day we saved Rs 305 but earned lessons for our lives from that good boy.

Next month we decided to meet and thank Kisan with some gifts, Davy light, books which he can refuse. In fact we had arranged for water pump as well from a dealer. We took the ST, walked that same road to that village. And to our surprise, no one in the village knew Kisan and his family. The house that he had taken us as his own was occupied by people who were different and they told us they were staying there for long time. Either we had gone to wrong hamlet or what had happened? We asked about possibility of another hamlet connecting the ST. We were sure it was that hamlet as we had walked that road. There was no other village could match proximity to that ST stop.

Who was Kisan? If he were not there we could have been eaten by leopards or had some mishap. We owed him something. Was he part of some other divine design? Oh that’s too self pompous. It just must have been our lucky stars resulted out of prayers and love of our families? I am clueless. Our trip was futile and some questions unanswered even after 20 years.

After that day for a year I remained confused with my career choices to go abroad or management? But when the opportunity came i decided to react like Kisan would have sticking to roots and picked up entrepreneurship as a path. I don’t know whether Kisan was real or fictitious, figment of tired imagination, answer of all prayers, or just coincidence. But then that ‘something’ unknown helped me come over fear of unknown and helped me venture beyond trodden paths. I then firmly believed that someone overlooked the situations always. I still believe....

 I am yet to realize if i am success or failure, but i am still there and have done something of matter which i owe to someone unknown. Always someone somewhere overlooks that things are taken care of at the end of the day.... Don’t you agree with me, each one of you will have such experiences?

(Disclaimer: This is a semi-fictional story about some inexplicable experience)

This story is in continuation with blog post on divinity published on occasion of Ganesh Chaturthi)

Guy Next Door

My phone rang on a chilly late January morning in the office. And what happened next gave me the biggest surprise in life. I learned lessons that I cannot forget for the rest of my life.  The call was about Manish, my new neighbor who lived next door.
I still remember the day I met Manish for the first time in my life.
It was a rainy weeknight in the month of June. Monsoons had set in. There is nothing like a good workday at the office followed by favorite dishes served for dinner. I had just finished my dinner as was about to occupy my favorite seat on the couch to watch my favorite TV show on a news channel.  I was trying to get hold of TV Remote which was in the firm grip of my wife watching a soap. I hate these soap operas. While my wife hates bombastic news anchors shouting at the top of their voices and making the life of other panelists miserable. She feels how that can entertain anyone after a long day in the office? But then she doesn’t get my point.  I feel otherwise. Who wants to cry over the fate of a newly-married lady in the palatial house as shown in these soaps? Anyways it’s an eternal dilemma across the families in India. Now both of us have competition from my eight years old daughter. She always wanted to see one of those Japanese cartoons. But then for the time being you could scold her and ask her to do her homework. Once she would be a teenager, and then God only knows what would happen? Doorbell rang. We were wondering who could at that time of day.
"Hi, My Name is Manish, Manish Brar. I have rented the apartment next door and moved in today"

Another Day in Office

Indian monsoons these days are not like what they used to be fifteen years back. In fact life is not what like it used to be fifteen years back. World two decades ago seemed like a different world, a different planet, experienced by a different human being whose name I still carry on my visiting card as Director of company launched ten years ago by that same human being. That human being also had the same name as written on name plate on new pent house I bought last year, and on registration of my new car which was launched last week by the Car company which itself was launched in India fifteen years back during new liberal era ushered upon in India by now Prime Minister who was Finance Minister then.

I had read in morning paper that Monsoons were receding and some rains were predicted. Day started brightly as usual. It was sunny as I completed reading daily papers with my cursory glances, dropped everyone to their respective occupations in family and reached office.

Day at office was hectic as usual. It started with daily  overseas calls, meetings to plan the work , planning the meetings, monitoring projects,  few interviews to replace employees on notice, employee communication, client communication to explain the most hot issue of change management, supervising the draft  proposal for prospective work from existing client, checking on facebook as to who is doing what, commenting on business political topics, envying those on vacations, knowing who ate which cuisine last night, getting mobile calls from banks and insurance companies who wanted to sell me something which I do not need, celebrating birthday of a young employee joined recently, completing pending client status reports, rejecting offer from friends to 'sit out' somewhere to enjoy the Wednesday evening owing to call late in the night, had managed to take out few minutes while having lunch to speak with spouse while reading economic times.

As the day turned into evening outside, had no clue that clouds had gathered and a clear day turned out into balmy windy and dark evening. I normally have no time to check outside weather but today I had managed to take a glimpse of outside from the glass exterior of my 5th floor office while fetching coffee from the machine which is at other end of my cabin. There are days when I don’t have a single trip outside my cabin loaded with work and meetings. But today felt like having coffee which was very rare on such kind of day.  Thus as days turn into nights, monsoon to autumn, winters to summers, miss out on this daily theatrical show offered by nature. That's what is about life; we miss out many things going for kill, going for something intangible. Of course there are moments of weekends; holidays where you can speak to yourself and detach yourself from happenings around but such moments are very rare these days. These 3G networks don't allow you that as well now days. Even on vacations, you need to check mails, fb, gtalk whatever....

As the clouds roared, I was worried about employees who will man the BPO for the night. Honestly I am not worried about them but about the fact that on such evenings someone or other feels like reporting sick or has some family emergencies.  My poor Ops manager has his own set of problems. I feel for him on such days. Terror is unending as depicted in a beautiful Lata song. Fifteen years back such evening would have resulted in calling group of friends and venture out for a long drive to get drenched, have onion pakodas and chill out. Now I bother about traffic jams, water logging, and power and network outage. I checkout if my family reached home on time which they have.  By the time my night shift staff got settled I decided to go home. It was Eight PM.  I sent my final email, closed my laptop and then again after some discussions finally entered into elevator.

As I enter the elevator, I am approached by Ops manager that six of employees on one major acct have not come and they have month end to finish. Though we have backups but not for six employees on single project. I ask him to call each of them and request them to come when rain subsides. I transmit client pressure to Ops manager. I go back to my cabin lecture him on how client has raised queries last month on some missing line items and how I had to convince him. I don’t want to do that again on first US working day of next month.  Meanwhile I see workload on other client account and nominate those with fewer loads to this job. My head starts wheeling and banging. Ops manager comes in saying 2 people have complied and will reach office soon. I instruct him further on some process contingencies and certain report to be sent on priority and rest to be done upon completion. My headache is accompanied by some stomach butterfly feeling which I attributed to tea I had at six PM. I mailed my US account manager about the plan and then talked to the same guy. Now I am going crazy, I have a vomiting sensation, my head is banging, and I need to leave.

I just mechanically rushed to the elevator and by the time I reach down as I could smell rain and heard its noise. I felt calm.  The head ache was gone, so were the stomach ailments. I entered into my car in the basement by quarter to Nine with fifteen more minutes to go for old songs to start on FM stations. These days I don’t like anything that’s contemporary be it music, movies or anything. Some people call it mid life crisis.

It’s raining heavily by now. Road has a stream gushing from up hill. I tread my vehicle knowing that with the clearance my vehicle has; there should not be any problem. I splash water onto few poor pedestrians who had bad time holding on to their umbrellas. What on earth made these people venture out in rains that too without vehicle? How insensitive you can be looking at world from your eyes. Fifteen years back maybe I would have been at receiving end of the splash and still enjoy it. There is one small lane branching off the main road to take a short cut to reach bypass highway which is my daily route while returning. This lane has some buildings with residents but is kind of deserted and badly lit even on normal days but today it was pitch dark and totally deserted. I put on upper light. Viper is at maximum. Suddenly I see a man dressed in white shirt and tie with a brief case in hand asking for a lift. He was middle aged and looked corporate types.  Normally these days you don’t dare give anyone lift. I have heard about many crime and mugging incidences. I wonder what to do. Should I zoom pass him and leave him to his fate or help him? I slow down. His dress, look and feel helped me feel secure as he sounded a mid level executive of some reputed company. Maybe he got stuck because of his bad luck. The stranger also reminded me of my diseased maternal uncle who used to dress similarly and was of similar age when he used to come to our place till fifteen years back. Those memories flashed and made me press on brake pedal and stop around twenty meters ahead of him. He came near the car and spoke to me in proper English

" Sorry for bothering you, but I was supposed to be picked up by my company vehicle which has broken down and have to reach station to catch night train back to Solapur"

"Can you please drop me to the bus station from where I can catch bus to the railway station?

 Bus station he mentioned is on my way, I nodded.

“Sorry I am wet. Do you have any newspaper so that I wont make your passenger seat wet?"

I think I have few in my dickey. So I said him that they are in the dickey.

“That’s fine I will take them out” he said. I opened the dickey as he goes behind the vehicle. He comes back with an old paper and a plastic cricket bat which my daughter had left during some outdoor picnic.  

That flashed the sentiment of longing for my daughter. Whenever I think of her, there is a feeling which can only be described by something warm, welcome, caring.  It is the same feeling which I used to get when I was a child. It is the same feeling when I saw my parents returning late by few hours when they had kept me with some relative promising that they will return in half an hour. 

 Zooming back to present I thought why on earth this man pulled out plastic bat from dickey.

“You have a kid, he must be missing his bat at home so I thought I could remind you of a small bat in dickey as I am sure it must have been lying there for months if not years”, said he.

 I remember our trip to Mulshi in June. It seems like yesterday and three months had passed and so had monsoons.

I said “Oh thanks maybe my daughter is missing her bat. Will take it home for sure today”

He settled inside and we started the journey

We reach the bypass highway and join the speedy vehicles rushing past. Rain grew stronger

Stranger said “I am Ashish Kulkarni from Solapur.”  Name sound familiar but I knew of at least 500 odd Kulkarnis in Maharashtra and US. This is a kind of name you will find anywhere and any search on facebook or linkedin will generate at least 500 results.

He asks my name, am hesitant, I comply. Asks me about my native village, occupation

I tersely tell him software nowadays you don’t trust strangers, Software is a vast spectrum from 5k earning trainees earning five thousand to VPs earning three crores and above.

“What kind of  Software?  I know computers but my education stopped when windows was just about to arrive. I had taken a course in NIIT for 3 months but learnt nothing but to open lotus   sheet on pc XT. IT was late 97. After that I did not have any opportunity”

I remembered those days when IT was new. Days of y2k, dot coms etc. That was time we jumped into IT, now we talk about clouds, Android, IOS. Lot has happened in fifteen years

Looking at the bat asked me how old is my daughter. I told her age.

Putting down the bat, he said calmly “I came to your house when you were twelve years old.”

I am shocked

“You mean to say you know me. You must be joking”

How the hell he remembered my face after twenty six yrs and after having added at least 60-70 kgs on me in those twenty six years.

Now he tells my school name, my love for cricket, my peculiar habit of mixing rice, chapati and dal to make it faster to eat so I can run out to play

We suddenly are slowed by a bottleneck on highway, bus station is 5 minutes away but traffic will take me 15 minutes for sure and I am with someone I don’t know but who knows me very well.

So I ask him do you know my father or anyone from our family. I was searching for all kulkarnis in my memory. And another clue was solapur.

Yes he said: I know your maternal uncle Kiran Deshpande: kiranmama. Then it struck me that the uniform was from the same company where kiranmama used to work

Kiranmama was someone special.  I was someone nondescript in my family who had no aim but to play cricket on street and watch on television. I never used to score more than 65%. But somehow Kiranmama had special attention for me. He used to tell my family that I had great potential be it studies or whatever I do.  He was my favorite. I used to remember evenings he used to take me out to gardens whenever he came to Pune. We ate snacks forbidden at house. We used to go to his place in vacation. Those used to be best days. As he said, I did well in Xth but surprise came in XII and IIT when I scored big and made good career. His prophecy was correct. As I went to IIT, I used to write letters to him. Yes those days I used to write letters. As I joined my first job after IIT, we partied in real sense as he welcomed me to adulthood. It was so macho to get drunk….

And one fine morning in late 97, I was visiting Pune on a weekend, we all woke up on call in about the accident which happened earlier night and all of us attend his funeral in Solapur then. Kiranmama and one of his colleagues were bumped off by a truck while returning from office.

Suddenly traffic speeds up, I am back to present which is tense.

I asked him “Do you still work Kiranmama‘s office?”

“I don’t”

But then realized that the company was closed in mid naughties, I remember someone from Kiranmama’s family telling me that in 2005.

I wanted to ask him then why is he wearing that company dress.

“Kiran was a good man” He goes on. “I was very close to him. He got me in the company using his good books with the then company GM. We used to work hard when we were bachelors and spend weekends together. Then we got married had children but we has a strong bond”.

“And let me tell you, you were his favorite nephew. He was so proud when you stood in state merit list and got into IIT. He would have been proud seeing your status today”

But then he said “Kiran missed out on seeing his son doing so good in life as you. That should be his only regret after living a good but short life.”

He turns to me and asks “Hope you are doing fine. Do you have any regrets in life?”

Normally I get sick of such philosophical talk. I ignored

After a small pause, he put on his spects. Turned towards me and said in a very deep voice

 “ Let me tell you why I am here. I am here for message, Today is your last day in office, I mean last day in life as well.  “

I braked car to halt as cars behind started honking.

Was it a practical joke?  I could see the bus station 500 meters away. Was that a joke gone wrong or he wanted to be philosophical or was he insane.

Then suddenly I recall my trip in 97, on that night when Kiranmama had died, someone else was critically injured and later succumbed to injuries. I could remember face of small girl who was daughter of Kiranmamas’ colleague and her mom. I suddenly remember name on ICU ward : Kiran Deshpande and Ashish Kulkarni…….

The world started turning around for me. No this can be happening.  This guy is playing some jokes.

I went back to 97. I remembered his face in local papers next day in obituary column. And lightening stuck me. What if he is a ghost and if he is so then am I going to die?

Now his old uniform, his interrupted computer education, everything he said fell in place in time sense of things.

I do not want to die. I have responsibility to my family. I have to play with my daughter. I want to see her grow. I want to see myself retiring nicely. How would my daughter cry when she knew that? What will my wife do? How will my parents take this? 

Office and related matters which mattered most till five minutes back, seemed to be last worry. In fact it never stuck then what will happen to my client, employees? But strangely I stuck me that how my CA will manage wealth so my family will not suffer. What if someone frauds??  . So ultimately it was again about family.  Many thoughts just flashed in few seconds. Whole images about past memories mostly good ones zoomed.  So life is about good memories.

I look at man, he had know it all smile and some serenity.

He said “Son my message has been delivered. Look even we have reached the bus stand “.I never realized that I was driving blindly for last few moments. I halted the car. He simply walked off into crowd of umbrellas near the bus station.

I am dazed, I am sweating, again my headache starts to roll off, and I feel like vomiting,

And there is a big knock on the car door and there was a huge guy in black overcoat asking me to open my door. Was it Mr death? I pass off

I open my eyes,  I am in my cabin, There was crowd outside my cabin, The guy with black rain coat was watch man who was trying to break lock of my cabin. My cell phone had 18 missed calls from wife, parents, office ops manager, office boy.

Later I came to know that I was unconscious in my room all the while.No one realized but my wife upon not knowing my where about called everyone and someone realized that I was in the cabin not responding to anything even after knocking for 5 minutes and thus had called watchman to break open the door locked from inside

Immediately they rushed me to hospital, my BP had shot up 200-140, I missed a stroke narrowly. It could have been anything even paralysis if I was not so lucky.

Month after that I am again in office but still cannot forget face of late Ashish Kulkarni. I have learnt lesson hard way that family matters most. Maybe I was given a warning, a new perspective,   from someone Iike Kiranmama from the other world who loved me so much.

I have taken this seriously and promise to do what I missed.  I will not get hyper on office matters, I will plan my legacy, I will spend more time with daughter and family, I will focus on health. And I will treat every day in office as just another day of fine journey which we call as life.

Just to complete the narrative and very small fact which came upon me few days later. I remembered that on the morning of that fateful day, I happened to accidentally gaze upon the 15^th death anniversary photo published by Late Ashish Kulkarni’s daughter who is now an IT employee of reputed company after being recruited from one of the top engineering campuses in country. Kiranmama’s son also has gone abroad for higher studies.  I imagine how Kiranmama would have enjoyed US visits and success of his son. Wish life is not as unfair as it was to him.

But then this is life. You have to treat it just as another day in office and you will agree that offices are not fair to everyone. Point is what you make out of this extra day in office……

Note: The characters and events depicted are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is coincidental. Though issues are real, human and universal…..