The Garden Court!

It was an open court. In a garden!

The pedestal had the judge’s elaborate chair and desk. On either side of the pedestal were the docks – one for the guilty and the other for witnesses. They were decorated with flowers and balloons.

It seemed strange at first – but then, I eased into this new setting.

The Judge looked really sad. He kept demanding for Tea and his helper kept giving him Juice. But the Judge didn’t seem to lose his cool, instead he patiently drank the juice at all times.

I was defending the guilty. His crime was that he had threatened his family members with dire consequences due to an alleged affair between his nephew and some girl. The guilty was a popular middle-aged actor from TV sitcoms. This actor threatened me too – “If you don’t win this case, you’ll pay for it”. Gulp!

The nephew and girl in consideration were sitting in the 'garden court' too. They seemed surprisingly at ease. They were sitting on the floor and sharing a tub of popcorn – without a single worry about the case. They were extremely friendly with me too indulging in a lot of small talk regarding the weather, recent movies, etc.

The court was packed with at least 100-120 people. They all seemed to be patiently waiting for proceedings to start. They didn’t even talk much. Some of them were knitting sweaters.

The girl’s family came by and sat behind me. I wondered why, though. Shouldn’t they be sitting next to their lawyer? I glanced around on the other side of the table and found my rival. She was my colleague from my work place. This was a surprise! How could the same company defend both parties? And why didn’t I know about this earlier? But good – maybe she could help me with a few sections to win this case. Ha!

And then suddenly, the strangest bit of this whole situation hit me…. I wasn’t a lawyer!
Terrible fear gripped me. I felt numb. I couldn’t feel my fingers. My eyes seemed to bulge out. How on earth am I going to fight this case, let alone win it!!! And I reached out for my water bottle. Water would surely help calm my nerves. I drank it all in one big gulp.

The actor came by with his big long glittering entourage and announced he’d be back after having breakfast. He left. I was appalled. How could he disrespect the Law and the Judge? But the others didn’t seem to mind. The judge ordered another cup of tea and got juice, the couple continued eating the popcorn, the relatives started cutting vegetables to save time and the crowd sat through patiently.

I thought I might as well eat something till my client returns. I opened the lunch box my mother had packed for me ever so lovingly. There was a single tomato in it. Huh?! Mom packed a tomato?? Well, what could I do?! I ate it anyway.

My mouth was stuffed with the tomato. The more I ate it, the more difficult it got for me to gulp it down. I couldn’t feel my tongue. I couldn’t breathe. My mouth was swollen. I felt like vomiting but I couldn’t. What was happening? I was gasping for breath. I looked around frantically for help but no one even seemed to notice my emergency.

But I heard someone calling out to me loudly and saying something to me. I kept looking around with the demonic tomato in my mouth. I couldn’t see anyone but the voice got louder every 2 minutes.

Suddenly, I could hear it all too well! Crystal clear!

“Wake up now. It’s already 8am. You are going to be terribly late for work today, sleepyhead!!!”

Evening Rendezvous!

The perils of being in a reflective mood are many.

First, you feel overly emotional and philosophical about everything. Second, you most often figure out it was your fault – whatever it was regarding :( . And thirdly, probably also the most deadly one, is that you start writing your blog post! Wink Wink :)

These days, what’s fiction and what’s real – is hard to tell. Real lives play out like movies. And the old debate of what influences what comes up again and again. But here’s a bit of fiction straight out of my laptop. Inspired by all the people I meet and experiences I have daily.

Every evening they met in the ground floor of their building. The seats on which they sat were made of cement – partly worn out and broken from one end. But there was enough for the two of them to sit comfortably.

It was a daily routine. They had followed it for over 50 years. Ever since they were new brides in their respective houses.  The only breaks were if either of them had travelled out of the city or if they fell ill. But otherwise, they met daily. 

They weren’t even the best of friends. May be it was force of habit. Or maybe they felt the other needed it more than themselves. Whatever the reason – they were daily evening companions.

These were two strong-minded yet frail 90 year old ladies! Both were typical south Indians – TamBrahms.

Earlier, for bulk of their years, they spoke about what they cooked, what they washed, what they ate, what their in-laws said, what their children did and what was going to be their next pickle.  They would share food items once in a while or exchange ever-silver dabbas with each other with murrukkus and mixtures (South Indian savory items).

But off late, their conversations were mostly about whether they could pee the requisite amount and number of times through the night and day; whether they were able to digest the slightly heavy meal of rasam, curd, rice and veggie; whether they were able to read the headlines clearly or had to wear their spectacles.

They kept each other engaged. Apart from the daily meals, a few latrine related issues and medicine replenishments, their point of incongruence was that neither could hear each other!! Yeah – they both couldn’t hear well. Came with age!  But that didn’t stop them from meeting daily and talking to their heart’s content. It was their thing to do daily. They looked forward to it. It was something that kept them going.

So, every evening, they met at their scheduled time on the broken seats and spoke endlessly.

Old aunty1 (Oa1): What did you eat today?

Old aunty2 (Oa2): Did you eat today?

Oa1: We had rasam, rice and potato curry.

Oa2: Yes, it’s a hot day!

Oa1: It is so hot today. How do you manage without AC in your hall.

Oa2: I had curd rice only today – stomach is a bit upset. What medicine did you take last time – you said it helped you.

Oa1: Today no motion. It’s stuck.

Oa2: Ohhh! Gelusil-aa. That never works for me.

Oa1: Did you hear about that Kumuda mami in our next building – she is going to USA this year. How did they give an 80 year old a visa, beats me. Puriyave illai (Just don’t understand it).

Oa2: Did you take digene tablet or Gelusil syrup?

Oa1: Yes! She’s travelling with her grandson. Wonder how he is going to travel with her. Ha ha!

Oa2: Don’t laugh at my predicament, ma! Loosaave varadu (Totally loose motions).

Oa1: Ha ha. That’s cruel. Hopefully she won’t suffer loose motions in her long flight.

Oa2: Did you hear about Kumuda Mami? She is going to the USA.

Oa1: Apparently, Onions have become Rs. 70/- per kilo. Luckily we don’t use too much onion in our food.

Oa2: No, not Rs. 20, Onions have become Rs. 70/-.

Oa1: What! Why did you buy 20 kgs?

Oa2: Thank god we don’t eat onions at all.

Oa1: I don’t understand what is the need for so much – you any way don’t eat onions!

Oa2: Let’s go – it’s becoming dark.

Oa1: Let’s go – it’s becoming dark.

Oa2: See you tomorrow ma. Hopefully my stomach will become better. I will tell you about Kumuda Mami in detail tomorrow.

Oa1: See you tomorrow. I am glad you had no loose motions today! Take care ok.

And they’d go back to their homes slowly, with measured steps and hawk type concentration on the floor watching their each step :)

They were always happy at the end of their meetings. They continued to do this till one day when both left the earth together. May be even God couldn’t obstruct their evening meetings  :)

As the next day dawned and the evening came by, the seats wondered with a tear who’d talk to them daily. That deliberation didn’t last too long. Two recently married, young girls in the building sat on the seat on their ways back from their jobs to catch a few breaths before getting busy with home duties.

Young lady1 (Yl1): Hey! Which floor?

Young lady2 (Yl2): 4^th, You?

Yl1: I’m on the 9^th! Do you come daily at this time?

Yl2: Yes – the same local train daily gets me here at this time.

Yl1: Wow! Me too! Good! See you tomorrow too at this time :)

Yl2: Yes! Looking forward already!! :)

And the seats smiled again.

My Dear Consultant!

A career in consulting means a lot of things. Great minds come together, strategize and derive absolutely creative answers to some of the toughest questions of the corporate world. There’s a lot to learn and understand and you also get a chance to see how varied, unpredictable, interesting and absolutely intriguing human psychology is.

It’s a lot of glamour too – what with fancy travelling, staying in great hotels on out-station trips, monthly get-togethers with teams at awesome restaurants, lots of money (well, debatable ;)) and the likes. It also means being stupidly competitive, working long hours, sometimes forgetting a week has two weekend days, missing a few special family events, etc.

I have had the good fortune of meeting and knowing many many amazing consulting professionals. Let me share with you, the story of one such awesome individual.

This someone is a young, intelligent, recently married (to a joint family!) girl and has had her life go from carefree to terribly careful. Her dressing has undergone a total change from aaj ki naari to bahurani. Her lunch box has moved from salads and pastas to dal, roti and rice. From pub hopping over weekends she has started hopping from one relative’s place to another. On the whole – the transformation has been quite drastic. Whether it’s good or bad, is really our personal view and perception.

So earlier, she used to be this big-shot consultant, who was passionate about her job, always staffed on all the star projects, did quite well for herself, and was always available to take on work – she was someone who worked hard and partied harder! But now, it was different. She had restrictions on how long she could stay in office, her travel schedule had to be planned keeping in mind all her family and social commitments, she would not be able to answer calls over the weekends and she was totally not available for the team get-togethers!

She became more and more tired managing both ends of her life.

Her colleagues began to distance themselves from her. They would object on having her staffed on their projects because they would think she won’t do her job well, given her constraints and they’d get more work and so she started losing out on meaty projects, that plum promotion and the rightful yearly bonus.

And the last nail in the coffin was that the general view about her, went from “Wow, what an amazing consultant” to “If she has so many restrictions, why is she still in consulting. Obviously she can’t handle it”.

How she felt about this, I am not sure. We weren’t that close. But really?! Just because a young girl has some constraints, her hard earned credibility as a consultant itself is suddenly in doubt?

Yes, she has constraints. Yes, she’s struggling at times to manage everything. Yes, she wants to leave early. And yes, she can’t work weekends. But so what? When she’s doing her bit in the project, she does it with 100% sincerity. She’s bringing to the table a fresh perspective on the problem at hand. She’s giving you her professional opinion, which till some time back, was highly sought.

Organizations are trying their best to address these issues. I have personally benefited from a few such options – like a part-time association, or flexi-hours, etc. But how far do these really go?

And this is just the start. The next set of troubles for my friend will begin, when she and her husband decide to have a family. That’ll be it then. She’ll be totally written off.

Isn’t that sad? I know of lot of wonderful organizations who are consistently introducing measures and ideas and options to support the woman. To help her have a career despite issues and constraints she has. I know of families, who have gone out of their way to ensure that the daughter-in-law can continue to have a career. I know of amazing husbands who stand tall in support of their wives’ pursuit of a career.

However, the number of girls like my friend here are far more than the luckier ones. And then in such cases, I just want to know one thing: If everyone is such a great consultant, how come no one has a sure shot answer to this one? How come no team says “Bring her on board, her opinion is far more important to me than the number of hours she can put in making those slides”. How come no one says “I’ll cover for you when you have to work at home”.

My husband argued with me endlessly on this. He gave me many arguments and also told me that he knows of many women who take advantage of such constraints and end up earning the same salary as their male counter-parts for half the work done. I am sure most men will agree with this argument. And I agree too that there will always be a set of people who tilt the scale to the other side.

But here’s the deal. You don’t have to manage the constraints forever. She needs time initially to adjust and find an equilibrium in her new life. She’s genetically a multi-tasker and she will easily come to it. And if she doesn’t; then there’s nothing any one can do about it. But mostly, she just needs time. 

And for just this much – can’t YOU be the solution to the problem, my dear consultant?

The Replacement Cook!

I had a replacement cook a few days ago. My full time cook was on a "going-to-village" holiday for 20 WHOLE DAYS with her family. So, with great difficult I found someone who agreed to come at a time convenient for us.

So, here's Vandana Maushi - The Replacement Cook! Forty some-thing, about 4 feet tall, stick thin, wears the biggest glasses available on earth, has a short crop and is in a foul mood at all times. We decided that she'd come daily at 7.15 am to help me pack lunch for my husband.

But not for a single day did she arrive before 8.30 am. That's not all, despite being so late, she'd walk in with an air of arrogance and attitude. If I so much as mustered up the courage and asked her why she was late, she'd reply with utmost disgust that she's not used to waking up so early AND that I shouldn't do "itna kit-kit"! Hmmmmm!!

She definitely acted like she was doing me a huge favour and that I should be indebted to her and obliged to do as she wants. Maybe she was right, but I'm also paying her salary (and not a small amount) for this adjustment that she's making for me and I do expect her to work well at least as much as the worth of the salary. But this logic was lost on her.

She expected me to cut vegetables and keep them ready for her to come and turn it into a curry.

She despised making the Rotis - "aaj phir se roti banaane ka? chaawal nahi khaate kya".

She would never follow instructions:
Maushi, Bhindi ko lamba lamba kaatna - you'll find them cut into small round pieces!
Kadhi mein tamatar mat daalna - the kadhi would have tomatoes!
Moong daal banaana - You'd be eating Toor Dal!
She wouldn't put coriander on veggies and dal - "aap daalo na itna hai to"!

She liked cucumbers - many times I caught her brazenly eating them from MY fridge!

She had told me that she will have Tea daily as soon as she finishes her work. This was her condition while we were discussing 'joining terms'! But on most days, she wouldn't wait till work was done to have her tea. Many a times, she would even command "Maajhya chahaa saathi paani theva" (boil water for my tea). The Tea would be made with more milk and less water, 2 spoonfuls of Tea powder and FOUR spoons sugar - surely uninitiated to the concept of diabetes!! Even the style in which she had the Tea was amusing. She'd have the fan on full speed, lean lazily on the washing machine at one end of the kitchen and very very leisurely, sip on the Tea - what with all the sipping noises too. She just should NOT be disturbed during Tea time. She'd transform into a demon!

But things got to a head. She was way too arrogant for the work she did and didn't do it right when did do some work. She also didn't really do much work - I ended up doing most of it so that food would be ready on time. So I decided to have a candid conversation with her. I walked into the kitchen to take the bull by it's horns. As luck would have it, she was in the middle of her Tea session - Yikes!! So I told her, in the softest voice I could physically come up with - that she needs to start coming on time and to make food as instructed. Her reaction took me by shock - not even surprise. She smiled - and continued sipping tea. I was thinking maybe she's totally intoxicated by the tea and things I said haven't registered in her mind. So I waited for 2 minutes before asking her if she was ok with what I said. She smiled. Again. But this time she also said "Ghaabru naka - mee karin" (Don't worry, I'll do it). I don't know if that assured me or scared me more. But I decided to take things at face value and left.

Next morning, she didn't turn up. I wasn't surprised. I was half expecting that. So I called her on her mobile several times - it rang endlessly. I gave up and did whatever work had to be done for that day. She didn't turn up for any of the days after that. But I still kept calling her mobile.
No! I wasn't calling her to ask her to come to work. But for what it's worth, we did eat the food she cooked for us and that did take us through some uncomfortable, hot days with happiness and satisfaction. I owed her the salary for the days she did come and cook. I wanted to give it to her and hence, I kept calling. But she wouldn't answer.

She was smart ! She knew her salary was safe. She also knew by when my full time cook was expected to return. She must have thought that if she answered my call before the designated return date of my full timer, she may just be forced to work. So coolly, she hoped to stay away from me till then.

I had given up. And I went on with my daily routine. I was counting down to when my cook would return and I'd go back to living life in all it's glory.

And then one morning, I stepped out to buy stuff from the market. It was terribly hot. Moods were flaring. Taxis, buses and cars were honking incessantly on the roads. And I was making my way amidst all this. And suddenly, I spotted her. There she was! Vandana Maushi! Munching away on cucumbers coolly in the middle of all the chaos. Without even thinking, I ran towards her and asked her why she didn't come to work or why she hadn't returned my calls. She stopped munching, looked at me for a second and then said, in her trade-mark disgust "Kaakdi khaate, Nantar kadhitari boluya" (I'm eating cucumbers, we shall talk later sometime). Then she went back to munching the cucumbers and looked through me like I was invisible.

I got it. I looked around to see if anyone else had witnessed this royal insult. And turned around and walked away as fast I could from there. I contemplated turning around and giving her the salary - but guts and courage had betrayed me by then. I sprinted away from there.

She did come by that evening to take her salary. She was extremely friendly. She didn't argue much with the adjusted amount I handed to her. She even smiled..... I think....
She seemed to have forgotten what she really had done. She even tried small talk with me about the price of lemons being very high. The fact that I was being rude and curt with her didn't bother her much. I was trying to end the conversation and signal her to leave - but she stayed put.

And then, just when I was wondering what kept her stuck to the chair despite receiving the monies, she demanded - "Ek cup Chahaa dyaa" !!!

The journey to the weekend!

Earlier, When I worked with one of the Big 4 companies, I lived my life from one weekend to another. What happened in the interim is really not worth discussing. Thank goodness, it was a 5-day working thing.

So every Monday morning, I would motivate myself with "Friday is just 4 days away". There was some thing magical about Friday evenings; Even if I knew I had to work over the weekend, Friday evening was like my Fairy God Mother! So much promise!!!

I would feel exceptionally optimistic the whole day. Post 4 pm, my brain would slowly start wrapping up for the day. One by one the PPT and EXCEL sheets would be closed and private messages to friends and colleagues would increase with "Kya plan weekend ka :-)"

And by 5.30, I'd only be waiting for it to be 6, when I could fly out of the door and walk straight into 2 days of freedom. No looking back .... Especially at that one Manager who had the perfect recipe to spoil a well planned weekend with truckloads of work.

And those lovely lovely plans that I'd make for the weekend ...... Ah ... I will sleep a lot, I will clean my cupboard, I will watch too much TV, I'll eat oily fried feel-good food, I'll meet my parents, I'll play poker, I'll go the parlour, I will go shopping, Heck!! I'll even go on a healthy walk around the garden! Yes!! Feeling pumped, I'd head home with a brighter than ever smile on every Friday evening! Please note that all these plans were for Saturday and Sunday. Because, Friday evening was to just ... Be :-)

Come Saturday morning, the sheer optimism of these plans would hit me. Sab kuch to nahi ho paayega! So then I'd start rationalizing them. The constant sufferers of the rationalization were cupboard cleaning and the healthy walk. They have to wait till the elusive 'next weekend'. 

I'd somehow manage to cram most of the other plans quite satisfactorily over the whole of Saturday and half of Sunday. And then, just as the Fairy God Mother would regularly introduce me to weekends on Friday, the Devil Incarnate would introduce me to the prospect of a Monday being just a few hours away, on the Sunday evening.

Now, If there was any thing I found more terrifying than a Monday morning, it was Sunday late evening. I can't explain it - but it would me so sad, that I would just sit and waste it over gloomy thoughts for the whole of the coming week. Shit yaar, bohot kaam hai... xyz report bhejni hai, abc proposal banaani hai, oh nooo, tax documents bhi submit karne hai, blah blah blah and more such blah. It would take the optimism out of me. I'd be filled with philosophical thoughts like why do we have to work if we aren't happy, we should only do things that make us happy. Sometimes I'd even try to convince the hubby that we don't need to run in the race like this and we should just retire and be happy with whatever we have or may be open a grocery store in a small town and sit at the cash counter and be lazy! (Yeah - I find the stressful grocery store idea very contrary to that for some reason!) Sigh!

I thought, this would all change when I decided to give up the big moolah-making, peace-defying job I had. I settled for some thing much more relaxing; free-lancing! It gave me a lot of time on hand. I met my parents more often, caught up with friends that I hadn't seen for a very long time, slept a lot, took up new hobbies and basically had a very nice time........ Till, the weekend bug caught up with me again.

Now, my weekends are intertwined with my hubby's weekends! So I go through the same emotions that I did earlier from the wonderful Friday, to the euphoric Saturday, to the upsetting Sunday evening and the ever manic Monday.

That's when I realized, that unless, we have a job that we are passionate about or we do some thing that impacts or affects people's lives positively, we will only be running from one Friday evening to the next. We seem to find our mundane jobs so dissatisfying and below our creative ability, that we don't find happiness in those 5 days at work. We seek more from the weekend than it can offer. But had we found an area in our lives that helped us make a wonderful difference to the world (and also got paid well for it), I think we'd be sorted!!

And here's a BIG CLAP to all those who do, in fact, find even Monday till Friday just as endearing as the Friday till Sunday journey :-) May your tribe increase :-)

So as I wind up the post, backed with my trademark Sunday evening mighty philosophy, Cheers...!! Till we meet again on some Happy Friday evening :-) :-)

Random Questions?

Why aren’t Chocolates, Cheese, Potatoes, Mangoes, Butter, Puris, Bhajjiyas, Pastries, Cakes and Doughnuts super foods? Why isn’t it compulsory to have these daily, without fail? Why aren’t these, the weight loss, health building, nutrient supplying, vitamins and protein rich foods?

Why is sleeping 12 hours every day not the best exercise for great health, peace and happiness?

Why are taking lifts and elevators not the best ways to lose weight and remain fit?

Why are holidays not the norm of life? Why is ‘perma-vacationing’ not a full time, high salary paying, amazing job that everyone MUST do?

Why can’t men have babies? Why can’t men have periods?

Why can’t I, with my husband and children, stay with my parents after I marry? As a regular practice.

Why can’t this world be completely free of diseases?

Why can’t birds, bees and animals all have their own green habitats without us encroaching it?

Why can’t we all have one religion? Or have no religion at all?

Why can’t we all have faith? In the force. And most importantly, In each other.

Why can’t everyone be nice and happy? Why can’t there be no jealousy and envy?

Why can’t everyone have good intentions?

Why can’t we have a world that’s absolutely safe for it's women?

Why can't there be equal freedom for Men and Women?

Why can’t there be zero crime? ZERO.

Why can’t every child receive education that is rightfully theirs?

Why can’t there be absolute law and order always?

Why can’t everyone have a house to live in, food to eat and water to drink?

Why can’t there be nil corruption?

Why can’t we all just be one big happy world?

.... Ah well!

God has answers to so many of these inane questions and that’s OK. I can do without knowing them... I’ll eat in moderation, sleep in moderation and just holiday whenever it’s possible :)

But a lot of these questions – have answers here, in our midst. And it’s time these are answered and corrected as necessary. Immediately.

Inaction, unfortunately and automatically leads to a lazy, intolerant, ill-meaning, crime-supporting society and we all must guard against becoming that society!

Are we already that? I hope not! But if we aren't, it looks like we are headed towards that – and that, is Doomsday!

Of auto-corrected words and the subsequent madness!

I use a smart-phone! It's so convenient. The world shrinks into just that much. It's become so easy to stay in touch with people, to know of the latest happenings as soon as it happens across the world, learn new things (not referring to the terrible IIN ad), etc. I love it. I am hooked to it (amma and appa use the word "addiction" more often about my relationship with my phone). But still, I love it.

So amongst my favourite apps is Whatsapp :-) It's helped me keep in touch with soooo many friends and relatives all over the world. It also helps my non-stop chattering - I find some one willing to talk to me all day :-) I use the 'swipe' function in it to allow me to chat fast and furiously. There are times when I chat with 6-7 people at one go. So, speed and auto-correct are two very important things in my life.

But with the upsides, there are the downsides too! Swipe and auto-correct are my 'Frenemies'! They destroy as much as they create. So what happens basically is that when you swipe over alphabets, it gives you suggestions from the dictionary. But I am SO fast that I barely look at the suggestions before they are onto the chat. Yes, that's my fault. But you give some and you get some, naa!

As a result, many times, there are terrible auto-corrects. Sample this:
Instead of:
Hi, How are you - It'll be: Hip How are yuppy
Or
What did you have for lunch would become What did toy gave for lunch
Or
Did you buy that dress would go as Did you bite that free
or the more devastating
Hi Bhindi instead of Hi Vijay. (Yes, this has happened!)

The madness that ensues after this is more madness. People laugh, they crack jokes on me, some even wonder how this could happen and try it at their end. But one such auto-corrected conversation took the cake.

I was exchanging messages with my BOSS on a very important assignment. We were discussing important theories on healthcare in India. So I sent THIS without reading "Healthcare in India is at a very important juncture and we must push the need to create as many mid-sized brothels in the country as possible to shrink the gap in the infra versus population space".
I felt so smart. I had made a statement - such a damn good one at that. And I sat with the phone in my hand waiting for some great appreciation from Boss :)
After what felt like 20 years, Boss replied: "Okkk :-) Don't you think brothels will compound this issue and not address it".

Now this left me wondering. I started thinking that maybe the Boss was slightly sleepy, creepy or might I say, Drunk. Or maybe, he was multi-chatting and sent me the wrong message, or maybe this is some extremely profound analogy from him meant to test my intelligence. Yes, this must be it! He's doubting my double-masters brain! No Sir, Not a Chance!!!!!!

Because, suddenly loaded with immense intelligence, I wrote back: "It depends, Sir. While on the face of it, it looks like the problem will be compounded, it actually will help the healthcare situation in this country by reducing crimes".

Wow!! I had done it. I thought I should re-read the entire conversation and give myself the satisfaction of seeing the amazing-ness that is me!

And simply, I saw what I had typed! OBVIOUSLY, it was supposed to be Hospitals instead of Brothels. You knew it when you read it, right!

I had goosebumps and I felt the promotion slipping away. I had to do something. So I called up Boss immediately to explain the error - but all I could hear was him and a bunch of people in the background howling with laughter! They knew! Whatsapp knew! And even people on Boss's FaceBook now knew!

That I became a joke in office for generations to come is an understatement. When I quit from there, people spoke about it as a reference event. Like this: "Yaar when did we do that XYZ project - was it before or after the brothel auto-correct".

But I chinned up. I smiled, took it in my stride and continued chatting with the whole world.

And just like that, I informed my new Boss of my arrival with "Hi Sir, I'll be reaching half an hour late today since I'm stuck in Quack". Go Figure!

The Kind Stranger!

I love Bollywood songs. They are a source of immense joy and solace for me. I like all kinds of songs - old and new, fast and slow. There's some thing for every mood. The only type that I don't like very much are item numbers - there's some thing deeply disturbing about them! But all other kinds of songs I quite enjoy! Nevertheless, there are some songs which are so well written that the lyrics make more value and sense than the song in itself.

One such song that I often think has a lot of real life reference is this one from the film Dhadkan:
Aksar is duniya mein,
Anjaane milte hai,
Anjaani raahon mein,
Milke kho jaate hai,
Lekin hamesha woh yaad aate hai.

This has happened to me SO many times. While on a holiday, or on a train commute to work, a random evening at restaurant, or at a grocery store and at numerous such unexpected venues. I have met people who have spent very limited time being acquainted, yet have left a deep mark on my mind and memory. And most often, in hindsight, I realize, they teach me some thing. These lessons, however big or small or right or wrong, have influenced the way I live my life. They have helped me correct my mistakes, change bad habits and adopt good ones and hopefully, have made me a better person than I was before I met those people.

And that's why I want to write about one very special person who was a part of my life for strictly 4 meetings, yet taught me some thing invaluable.

Last year in January, one afternoon, I was returning home from the market. I saw an old man trying to cross the road. But the junction at which we were, it was difficult even for the most agile and quick to cross easily, let alone this old man! A few young boys held his hand and helped him onto the other side (Thank God some sense still prevails in the youth). The old man thanked the youngsters profusely, they smiled and waved and left. However, the old man's ordeals weren't over. He now found it difficult to get onto the footpath from the road without support. Motivated by the youngsters, I offered to help him. He held both my wrists and somehow managed to hop onto the footpath. He wore a Poonal (The thread tied around through one shoulder) and Veshti (Dhoti) and had a big Rudraksh Mala around his neck. One look at him and you'd know he was a Pakka Tam-Brahm (For the uninitiated - Tamil Brahmin). He was about 90 years old, very thin and fragile but had extremely bright eyes... I felt they were actually shining!

He instantly reminded me of my Grandpa. All those who know me, know just how special my Grandpa was for me. Hence, I automatically became fond of this old man. Here on, I am just going to call him Grandpa2 :-). I asked him in Tamil if he needed to be dropped home - he didn't want to disturb or inconvenience me, so he refused. But I insisted any way and walked with him till his home. All the while, he held my wrist tightly ... So tight that I was sure a vein or two are just going to give up and pop open!

We reached his home. He lived alone. It was a tiny 100 sq. ft. room including an adjoining kitchen. It was not well kept. It had an almost broken bed with a torn bed cover and dirty pillow, an old rocking chair and a kitchen that looked like it was straight out of Mohenjodaro - ancient!! One wall was full of frames of various Gods... Most South Indian homes have such walls in their homes :-) And most of those frames are of Paintings by the famous Artist Ravi Verma. It was the same here too. It was a weird house, it was unclean, had a weird smell around it but Grandpa2 had made it cosy for himself.

As I dropped him home, he made me promise that I would visit him again soon. He apparently had "great knowledge" of palmistry and - in his words - wanted to return the favour by reading my hand and telling me my future :-) I personally am not a very big fan of astrology and palmistry. I get scared by all this. So I smiled, wished him well and left. I felt very happy having met him. So as soon as I came home, I told my parents and uncle from Madras who was visiting us about him. Appa and Uncle insisted that I should visit him again since he was so close to home and just keep an eye out for him. So soon, with Appa, I went and met him in his house. Now this Grandpa2 was very particular about sticking to appointments and times. Apparently, he was a very busy man - what with hopping from one temple to the other all day :-))
So after 'scheduling' an appointment, we met him in his house. And as promised, he read my hand. What he read and what he said, went all over our heads. He had a book that was terribly torn, that he kept referring to and read out stuff directly from it. Sometimes, all of a sudden, he'd also peer into my dad's hands and copy-paste a line from the book. It was a hilarious meeting. But one which seemed to make him very happy. He didn't have too many visitors. Some distant relatives seemed to drop by sometimes - but apart from that, not many people went to see him! So he was thrilled at having us there. At the end of his so-called "session", he announced he needed one more such meeting. We left promising we'd be back soon.

But as life is, we got busy and forgot. We went about our routines and seemed to have completely forgotten about our promise. But one fine day, I bumped into him again at the same junction with the same problem :-) So I dropped him home and called Appa there again. It helped greatly that the homes were so close to each other. This was another hilarious meeting where he read stuff straight out of the book and proclaimed that they were indeed his own readings and findings :-) This time though, he also told us about his family. About a wife and young son lost, about daughters who were far away, about friends who weren't around any more, about struggles through his life to raise a "devout tamil brahmin family". He laughed, he smiled, he cried and he spoke passionately about everything. He also got up in the middle of the session and made some coffee for himself and had it. I think, briefly, he forgot we were around :-)

This time, while we were leaving, he told us "You must come back and see me during the Mango Season" ... It was a wonderfully concealed request - "Please bring me mangoes" :-) We agreed and left. And life went on. I didn't meet him during the Mango season. I don't know why. Some days I forgot and when I did remember, I was running late to be some where. And in all this, didn't end up meeting him.

I bumped into him yet again later and he told me this time, that though we didn't meet during mango season, we can meet during the chickoo season :-) For some one like that, he had an elephant's memory!! And also, seemed to be a big fan of seasonal fruits :-)

So a few months later, I decided to drop him a visit. Close to Diwali. Of course, armed with Chickoos :-)

I walked fast and with a smile. I was going to meet Grandpa2 :-) I reached his place, knocked the door and waited. But no one answered. I tried again, but still no answer. So I enquired around. They said he was very ill and admitted to some hospital by some well-wishers and relatives, but didn't know which hospital and didn't have any contact information. I was shocked, sad and extremely angry with myself. I had delayed meeting him for so long without really any strong reason holding me up. And poor old Grandpa2 was in a Hospital. Nevertheless, though extremely disappointed, I thought I'd come back after a few days and check again.

I didn't have to. A few days later, the obituary page in The Times of India carried his photograph. He had passed away. I can't express what emotions went through me when I saw that photograph - a toothy grin, those unbelievably bright eyes and a benevolent expression of calm all across the face. And in that instant, I realized, He was happy wherever he was! Because, He was finally united with his much loved wife and son.

He taught me some extremely important lessons: Not to give up no matter how down and out you are, to smile regardless of what situation you are in, to always be kind, polite and thankful for what you have
And
NO MATTER WHAT, to continue to have the zest for life - ask for the mangoes, ask for the chickoos, read out of a book brazenly while claiming it to be your own readings and God knows, how many more such things loaded with amazing optimism!

I am blessed. I had THE most amazing Grandpa on this earth. And God gave me, for albeit very brief, an experience with another awesome Grandpa too :-)

From both of these gentlemen, I have learnt that being kind is the single most important virtue in life. Because, everything else falls into place when there is kindness, empathy and optimism in life!

I think about Grandpa2 very often. I think about the way he dangerously walked the roads, his love for food and fruits, the élan with which he read from the book, the slight disappointment on his face when I told him I was married to a North-Indian, the pride with which he spoke of his struggles and achievements - everything. And the one thing that stands out always, is the Passion in his quivering, unclear voice. He loved his God and he loved his people. And I am happy that he has these very companions in his journey ahead :-) Thank you, Grandpa2!!

As I wind up this rather long blog post, there's one thing that I'd like to say - a BIG Thank You to all those random strangers who have met me and taught me such amazing life lessons. Keep bumping in :-)