'Present' is a promise time makes to man to re- adress the promise he made to time and to make up for the failures and failed expectations in the past.
When the cuckoo chirped again, I silently made a note in my mind. I will live upto the dreams of myself this year and do everything that I wanted to do in a lifetime. Tall as it may sound and soothing as my mother's words, the strong resolve wakes up to iron will and the proverbial spider rose again the seventh time and King Bruce will behold the lesson of his life living again !
For verses will find the canvas this year and I will strive to exercise my dormant pen and etch out my promise to the literary world !
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
On ambition
The fluster and the rustle
The attractive inviting green
The subtle elegance erudite elegance
Even a leaf wants to be somebody
The clamor on the roofs
The chill in the air
The smell of fresh soil
Even the rain wants to be somebody
The buzz around your ear
The song of interrupted beats
A sting and the tickle
Even the mosquito wants to be somebody
The bolster of the world
The heart of every concrete
The mother of civilization
Even the brick wants to be somebody
The carpet of flickers
The timer of rest hours
The blanket of warmth
Even the Night wants to be somebody
Looking out for attention
Wanting love from everyone
A pat on the back for every nuance
Even I want to be somebody
The attractive inviting green
The subtle elegance erudite elegance
Even a leaf wants to be somebody
The clamor on the roofs
The chill in the air
The smell of fresh soil
Even the rain wants to be somebody
The buzz around your ear
The song of interrupted beats
A sting and the tickle
Even the mosquito wants to be somebody
The bolster of the world
The heart of every concrete
The mother of civilization
Even the brick wants to be somebody
The carpet of flickers
The timer of rest hours
The blanket of warmth
Even the Night wants to be somebody
Looking out for attention
Wanting love from everyone
A pat on the back for every nuance
Even I want to be somebody
On a moment in heaven...
The shadow of the moonlight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
On imagination or lack of it ...
A picture tube with a million stories,
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
On drifting into intoxication
A feeling crept in with silent paws,
Peace covered the waves of acid rain,
Mind lulled to a faraway loss,
Thoughts drifted beyond the pain.
Troubles were lost in a goblet of wine,
Senses were pampered with each swig,
The sea was calm as a silent shrine,
Silence cried out to a leaf and a twig.
A drop balanced on the tip of a circle,
A message came of an empty tune,
The violin strings froze to a tingle,
The rumblings began in the mind dune.
A gush of grapes and a whiff of life,
Many a bubble to the rising fire,
Smoke went up as a docile friend,
A floating yacht moved into its lair.
Gulps and swallows followed in random,
The balance went on the passion,
Life dulled to a faraway tune,
Oblivion eased into intoxication.
Peace covered the waves of acid rain,
Mind lulled to a faraway loss,
Thoughts drifted beyond the pain.
Troubles were lost in a goblet of wine,
Senses were pampered with each swig,
The sea was calm as a silent shrine,
Silence cried out to a leaf and a twig.
A drop balanced on the tip of a circle,
A message came of an empty tune,
The violin strings froze to a tingle,
The rumblings began in the mind dune.
A gush of grapes and a whiff of life,
Many a bubble to the rising fire,
Smoke went up as a docile friend,
A floating yacht moved into its lair.
Gulps and swallows followed in random,
The balance went on the passion,
Life dulled to a faraway tune,
Oblivion eased into intoxication.
Monday, September 1, 2008
On understanding...
There are moments of angst when
The memories rip through the surface
Ushering disdain and chill
Sour and pungent thoughts…
The actions that denied
Any shred of love or belonging
The Words that evoked
Hatred and putrid minds
Seconds of dark clouds
The onslaught of mocking vibes
Glances which belie numbness
And resoluteness of never wanting more
But we still go on
The storm always tides over
The softness still enters
The smiles come riding in
Is it always so easy I thought
That there is light after every night
The sunshine always return
Mirth embellishes the mind
Do lovers always forget?
The bad days, the ugly words
The moments of hatred
The aura of unreasonables
Then I realized the truth,
We do not always forget the bad days,
We do not pretend it did not happen
But we just forgive each other
The memories rip through the surface
Ushering disdain and chill
Sour and pungent thoughts…
The actions that denied
Any shred of love or belonging
The Words that evoked
Hatred and putrid minds
Seconds of dark clouds
The onslaught of mocking vibes
Glances which belie numbness
And resoluteness of never wanting more
But we still go on
The storm always tides over
The softness still enters
The smiles come riding in
Is it always so easy I thought
That there is light after every night
The sunshine always return
Mirth embellishes the mind
Do lovers always forget?
The bad days, the ugly words
The moments of hatred
The aura of unreasonables
Then I realized the truth,
We do not always forget the bad days,
We do not pretend it did not happen
But we just forgive each other
On lying down alone...
I stared at the ceiling
A crack creeping on the yellow
The mount of a serpentine tent
An escape for the seeping
The walls sang the same elegy
There were dunes everywhere
Was I on a bed cavorting?
Or living a cold night in the Sahara?
The bouncing of monsoons
And the glee of the rustling leaves
While nature danced to the windy tunes
I lay with sundry thoughts of her
Loneliness can be like the leakage
Seeping inevitably into the mind
The pillows whispered into the ears
And bugs sneered at you
The rains poured further
The cracks grew to new designs
I still lay there
Measuring ennui closing in
A crack creeping on the yellow
The mount of a serpentine tent
An escape for the seeping
The walls sang the same elegy
There were dunes everywhere
Was I on a bed cavorting?
Or living a cold night in the Sahara?
The bouncing of monsoons
And the glee of the rustling leaves
While nature danced to the windy tunes
I lay with sundry thoughts of her
Loneliness can be like the leakage
Seeping inevitably into the mind
The pillows whispered into the ears
And bugs sneered at you
The rains poured further
The cracks grew to new designs
I still lay there
Measuring ennui closing in
A moment in heaven...
The shadow of the moonlight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
And the fragrance of buds
She lay there still as the stream
With the lights caressing the curves
The shiver of the alien
The whisper of an unknown tongue
The creased sheets waited
Till the cloud of passion set in
Soft purrs blew the horns
Quivers gave way to tumble
The moment was of rhythm and motion
And the dashing of flesh
I drank the wine divine
She played the whistling tune
Together we discovered
What a joyride means
The pace was ecstatic
The ambience cuddling in
For a moment we attained
What ambrosia and manna meant
Every moment was of wistful blue
But so was the déjà vu
A walk in the meadows
And yet every sight refreshed
Wilting like a bow
She strung the arrow up
We pained to keep it there
And then went the chimes
Drops of energy moistened
Like fresh dew on a morning
The Sun was out and bright
But we cuddled and slept in tight
On the 'Celebration of life'...
A shower of blossoms flirted in vacant air,
A muse of mirth overflowed into the ambience,
Beads of laughter echoed in abandon care,
Beatitude blessed in every human sense.
Minutes tickled the passion to live,
Hours brought in the blues of the yonder,
Clocks gifted the bouquets to give,
A future with more glee and wonder.
Blessed were the souls I met in the past,
Kind were the hearts that sang me songs,
Sonnets lulled my memories vast,
And time was filled with hearts and throngs.
A canary chirped a sweet wish,
And branches danced to a wanton tune,
Paricles waltzed when the dust came in swish,
And earth orchestrated the whirl of grime.
Nature’s symphony was at its best,
The flora blended in without rife,
The sun opened its benign chest,
And God played “ The clebration of life”.
A muse of mirth overflowed into the ambience,
Beads of laughter echoed in abandon care,
Beatitude blessed in every human sense.
Minutes tickled the passion to live,
Hours brought in the blues of the yonder,
Clocks gifted the bouquets to give,
A future with more glee and wonder.
Blessed were the souls I met in the past,
Kind were the hearts that sang me songs,
Sonnets lulled my memories vast,
And time was filled with hearts and throngs.
A canary chirped a sweet wish,
And branches danced to a wanton tune,
Paricles waltzed when the dust came in swish,
And earth orchestrated the whirl of grime.
Nature’s symphony was at its best,
The flora blended in without rife,
The sun opened its benign chest,
And God played “ The clebration of life”.
On what to write...
I wondered why I never wrote
Why the pens dragged along
The blocks seemed mountains
And the lexicon always failed
Perhaps a sequel to a comic
But Archie is in a septuagenarian
Phantom is long buried
Tintin has already been canned
Perhaps a soap
But sex and incest will only thrive
Only mundane can conquer
And couch potatoes have to swallow
Perhaps a family saga
But ‘Roots’ have rotted
‘Glass palace’ has cracks
And there is no ‘ god for large things’
Perhaps an autobiography
But I never experimented with truth
Never was close to a Mein Kampf
And never had a tryst with destiny
Perhaps that is why
I need to see and breathe
Wait for the wistful sorrow
And an unfulfilled dream
Why the pens dragged along
The blocks seemed mountains
And the lexicon always failed
Perhaps a sequel to a comic
But Archie is in a septuagenarian
Phantom is long buried
Tintin has already been canned
Perhaps a soap
But sex and incest will only thrive
Only mundane can conquer
And couch potatoes have to swallow
Perhaps a family saga
But ‘Roots’ have rotted
‘Glass palace’ has cracks
And there is no ‘ god for large things’
Perhaps an autobiography
But I never experimented with truth
Never was close to a Mein Kampf
And never had a tryst with destiny
Perhaps that is why
I need to see and breathe
Wait for the wistful sorrow
And an unfulfilled dream
On the death of imagination...
A picture tube with a million stories,
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
A click away from sundry knowledge,
I lost my ability in the mountains and trees,
To work my way through every wedge.
They tell me what I need to do,
Back a tell with many a ream,
I stop to wonder and belch a moo,
Need I know or it should always seem.
My tourage has gates and boulder,
Grey is surrounded by a ugly moat,
The plank across is too much to shoulder,
Green is where they painted the note.
Free from the shackles of an open mind,
I learn to obey and accept the line,
Where ideas are not there to bind,
I never sense a tear or a whine.
With no burden but to align,
I live through in calm and peace,
Imagination a forgotten wine,
Never to mix up with my peace.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Me and my beer belly...
We were the best of pals
Sticking together through the good and the bad
Sneering at very mocking eye
And celebrating the zest of life
The bulge of the apple
Fought with many a shirt
And the wiggle spruced up
My every buoyant step
When sprinting with glee
My belly waltzed inside
The steps immaculate in order
And the rhythm putting experts to shame
Many a winter night when
The world needed something to cling on
My belly gave the bulging handles
For the loved ones to lean and hold
An unselfish relation
We remained true to each other
It saved me the ogles and I
Saved it from hunger and thirst
We were inseparable
The bond known to none
A relation with no riders
No obligation or no promise
Sticking together through the good and the bad
Sneering at very mocking eye
And celebrating the zest of life
The bulge of the apple
Fought with many a shirt
And the wiggle spruced up
My every buoyant step
When sprinting with glee
My belly waltzed inside
The steps immaculate in order
And the rhythm putting experts to shame
Many a winter night when
The world needed something to cling on
My belly gave the bulging handles
For the loved ones to lean and hold
An unselfish relation
We remained true to each other
It saved me the ogles and I
Saved it from hunger and thirst
We were inseparable
The bond known to none
A relation with no riders
No obligation or no promise
The day I lost my watch...
The day I lost my watch
I recklessly mourned my empty wrist
The wistful thoughts of the cheating hands
Which turn and turn in abandon
I looked up to the sun
It stared blankly
It was day, I could conjure
But how far from the night?
Days were stopped by nights
And the day won again
It seemed years
And perhaps a lifetime
I started enjoying the emptiness
No targets and running short
No urgent and mocking deadlines
There was just all the time
I stole minutes and then hours
There I was enjoying the unlimited freedom
I flirted with myself
Glee and merry thoughts
Then I got my watch
Alas, I had now lost time
There was the pending and the impending
Time never was lost with the watch
I recklessly mourned my empty wrist
The wistful thoughts of the cheating hands
Which turn and turn in abandon
I looked up to the sun
It stared blankly
It was day, I could conjure
But how far from the night?
Days were stopped by nights
And the day won again
It seemed years
And perhaps a lifetime
I started enjoying the emptiness
No targets and running short
No urgent and mocking deadlines
There was just all the time
I stole minutes and then hours
There I was enjoying the unlimited freedom
I flirted with myself
Glee and merry thoughts
Then I got my watch
Alas, I had now lost time
There was the pending and the impending
Time never was lost with the watch
On ambition...
The fluster and the rustle
The attractive inviting green
The subtle elegance erudite elegance
Even a leaf wants to be somebody
The clamor on the roofs
The chill in the air
The smell of fresh soil
Even the rain wants to be somebody
The buzz around your ear
The song of interrupted beats
A sting and the tickle
Even the mosquito wants to be somebody
The bolster of the world
The heart of every concrete
The mother of civilization
Even the brick wants to be somebody
The carpet of flickers
The timer of rest hours
The blanket of warmth
Even the Night wants to be somebody
Looking out for attention
Wanting love from everyone
A pat on the back for every nuance
Even I want to be somebody
The attractive inviting green
The subtle elegance erudite elegance
Even a leaf wants to be somebody
The clamor on the roofs
The chill in the air
The smell of fresh soil
Even the rain wants to be somebody
The buzz around your ear
The song of interrupted beats
A sting and the tickle
Even the mosquito wants to be somebody
The bolster of the world
The heart of every concrete
The mother of civilization
Even the brick wants to be somebody
The carpet of flickers
The timer of rest hours
The blanket of warmth
Even the Night wants to be somebody
Looking out for attention
Wanting love from everyone
A pat on the back for every nuance
Even I want to be somebody
The first monsoons...
The first drop fell on my raised forehead
The clouds then smiled with glee
A shower came in with a swoosh
Drenching my skin before the clothes
The road turned into a brown swamp
We leaped across on the islands
But the fun was landing on a puddle
And wrecking another island
I peed into my shorts in mirth
And the heat blended into the showers
A tadpole looked up in disgust
Where did this come from?
Paper boats capsized around
The grass shook off the drops
Water trickled into my mouth
Purest form, Miss Rose told me
I ran into our house
An army waited with towels
There was the rough wipe
And I sneezed for the first time
Smell of Amma’s vadas
The coconut chutney topping
A quick morsel and there
I was ready for my next shower
The clouds then smiled with glee
A shower came in with a swoosh
Drenching my skin before the clothes
The road turned into a brown swamp
We leaped across on the islands
But the fun was landing on a puddle
And wrecking another island
I peed into my shorts in mirth
And the heat blended into the showers
A tadpole looked up in disgust
Where did this come from?
Paper boats capsized around
The grass shook off the drops
Water trickled into my mouth
Purest form, Miss Rose told me
I ran into our house
An army waited with towels
There was the rough wipe
And I sneezed for the first time
Smell of Amma’s vadas
The coconut chutney topping
A quick morsel and there
I was ready for my next shower
The Day I fell in love ....
The morning went long,
And I sold every idea,
She did respond and then a murmur,
I went to the moon and back.
The potholes were flowers,
And the angels showed the way,
A Chicken 65 I thought,
And the evening was better.
We went through history,
And the events of disdain,
There are times when you listen,
And the world is waiting…
The supple lips and truth beneath,
I went on an adventure beneath,
But the thought was alien,
For I had fallen in love.
And I sold every idea,
She did respond and then a murmur,
I went to the moon and back.
The potholes were flowers,
And the angels showed the way,
A Chicken 65 I thought,
And the evening was better.
We went through history,
And the events of disdain,
There are times when you listen,
And the world is waiting…
The supple lips and truth beneath,
I went on an adventure beneath,
But the thought was alien,
For I had fallen in love.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
The green leaf...
I looked at the leaf
So many different shades of green
There were many a patch
Many a dull moment
But the leaf was still green
The leaf was still green
With all its ingredients
Its sorrow and the bloom
The moth hole and the bright stem
The leaf was still green
For all those days it stood
Swaying and rustling
Flirting with the dew
Adamant at the stem
The leaf was still green
Age took its edges
Wrinkles dried the surface
The legs away in cracks
Then it gave in to the wind
The leaf was still green
Lying below its towering friends
It crumpled further
The others looked in dismay
It floated with its lost weight
The leaf was no more green
So many different shades of green
There were many a patch
Many a dull moment
But the leaf was still green
The leaf was still green
With all its ingredients
Its sorrow and the bloom
The moth hole and the bright stem
The leaf was still green
For all those days it stood
Swaying and rustling
Flirting with the dew
Adamant at the stem
The leaf was still green
Age took its edges
Wrinkles dried the surface
The legs away in cracks
Then it gave in to the wind
The leaf was still green
Lying below its towering friends
It crumpled further
The others looked in dismay
It floated with its lost weight
The leaf was no more green
When memories are short...
I sat alone in the melee
Chatters and the drowning glee
A forlorn shadow came over
My countenance and my lips
I stared at the white
Blinking words and the cursor
Was I an alien in this land?
Where I tilled and ploughed till late
Memories are short
Not seen is gone
I saw the eyes through me
I was transparent as a glass
I stuck to my thoughts
They took to my own land
I was riding across the pasture
With smiles showering on me
I resolved to live
In another land of mirth
For memories are short
And the farm was alien
Adieu I whispered
But naked ears never turned
I turned away
And walked to next horizon
Chatters and the drowning glee
A forlorn shadow came over
My countenance and my lips
I stared at the white
Blinking words and the cursor
Was I an alien in this land?
Where I tilled and ploughed till late
Memories are short
Not seen is gone
I saw the eyes through me
I was transparent as a glass
I stuck to my thoughts
They took to my own land
I was riding across the pasture
With smiles showering on me
I resolved to live
In another land of mirth
For memories are short
And the farm was alien
Adieu I whispered
But naked ears never turned
I turned away
And walked to next horizon
My baby's first day...
The numb touch of feather,
The coziness of soft velvet sinking ,
A peek that stole through,
Was my lovely baby peeking…
A lifetime sped through in front,
Of ups and downs and falls and bend,
But the glimpse seemed enough,
To justify everything and fend…
She said a thousand stories,
Through the little movement and the wad,
A gurgle of a smile paled
Every sensation that I ever had…
A rare feeling of déjà vu,
Tinkled up the spine ,
A clearing around the throat,
And then, all I did was pine …
I reluctantly moved to leave her
to the comfort of motherly touch
And waited for another look
Praying for being given so much..
On a solitary hour at home,
I melted into the depth
For there was a far away whisper
Of each of my baby’s breath…
The coziness of soft velvet sinking ,
A peek that stole through,
Was my lovely baby peeking…
A lifetime sped through in front,
Of ups and downs and falls and bend,
But the glimpse seemed enough,
To justify everything and fend…
She said a thousand stories,
Through the little movement and the wad,
A gurgle of a smile paled
Every sensation that I ever had…
A rare feeling of déjà vu,
Tinkled up the spine ,
A clearing around the throat,
And then, all I did was pine …
I reluctantly moved to leave her
to the comfort of motherly touch
And waited for another look
Praying for being given so much..
On a solitary hour at home,
I melted into the depth
For there was a far away whisper
Of each of my baby’s breath…
The Paradox of Motivation
In most organizational motivational problems the key lies not in making better leaders, but in having better followers. Mistrust and cynicism on the part of the follower is a common barrier to an effective leader follower relationship.
Power is often thought of as something, which is evil and undesirable and powerful people are regarded as dangerous and manipulative. However once we realize that Power is just a means by which we can influence others (for better or for worse) we begin to realize its importance for each one of us.
If there is one thing we fear even more than power, it is; "being influenced". Being influenced by someone is usually regarded as undesirable and a sign of weakness of the individual. Yet we are being influenced all the time, by parents, neighbors, friends and even advertisements. Every time we accept a friend’s dinner invitation, each time we agree to oblige someone, and every time we buy a product we are "being influenced". We are so caught up in trying to influence others that we are totally ignorant of ourselves being influenced. So if we are being influenced anyway would it not be better to understand the process better and at least be able to select consciously the influence that we most desire.
Leadership has now been described as a relationship between the leader (initiator of the relationship) and the follower in which the leader changes the goals of the follower while keeping in mind the followers' real needs. This clearly indicates that the two roles of leader and follower are not permanent but dependent on the nature of individual relationships. Also we see that the follower has a lot to gain in this relationship, since his / her real goals are addressed.
The leadership relationship in the organizational context is often expressed in the interactions between boss (leader) and subordinate (follower). The boss influences the subordinate in order that he (the subordinate) make’s the boss' and the organization's goal his own and simultaneously takes care of the subordinate's real needs (material rewards and job satisfaction).
A crisis in this relationship is manifested in the form of low motivation levels, low productivity and indiscipline. If we recognize that all motivational problems are a breakdown of the leader-follower relationship, we realize that the obvious solution lies in setting right that relationship.
There are different ways of resolving these leadership (relationship) crises. The most common solution looks at the communication channel between the two individuals and tries two rebuild the link between them by increased interaction, clearing misconceptions and regular feedback. The next method is to influence the attitude and behavior of the leader. There are a number of books and workshops, which teach us on how to be a good leader, how to influence others and how to motivate our workforce.
The basic assumption underlying all these leadership books and workshops is that the sole responsibility for establishing the leadership relationship lies with the leader. Even though we recognize that there are various follower characteristics and attitudes (like cynicism, fear and arrogance) which are impediments to being influenced, we leave it to the leader to overcome all these and establish the relationship. The popular literature available tends to underplay the role of the follower, and considers him to be a passive creature waiting to be influenced by the leaders who are out to get him. It is true that there are highly effective leaders who are able to influence and impress almost everyone. However these persons are rare and the potential of our development into these is limited. Hence the need to look also at the follower and his contribution to the relationship (or its breakdown).
If we move beyond the conventional approach and look at the follower we may be able to evolve a fresh approach to motivation. This approach would consider the follower as an active player who goes beyond his usual cynicism and mistrust and allows himself to be influenced by the leader of his choice in order to help him reach his own life goals. The first step in developing a follower involves identifying those characteristics and attitudes (like cynicism and mistrust), that are a blockage to getting influenced. Next we must try to make the person aware of how in the leadership relationship, there is a potential for his own goals being realized. And finally we must try to instill in the follower a sense of love and respect for the leader.
Something similar to the process described lies at the root of patriotism and love for one's country. Since here there is no person in the form of a leader (the country is an abstract entity) the only way of developing a bond is to influence the followers, which is done by means of books, films and stirring speeches of leaders.
The process of enabling the follower to be more open to being influenced must not be confused with the brainwashing and sloganeering done by some companies to maintain loyalty which is nothing but an attempt by the leader (the company's management) to influence the employees.
What I am suggesting is more at the personal level of the follower. It involves making an individual more open to the ideas and visions of persons around him / her in order to achieve his / her own goals. Obviously this is not an easy job considering that the act of making the individual "more open to being influenced" is itself an act of influence and presupposes an existing leader-follower relationship.
The best method perhaps is for each of us to introspect and to remove all those barriers within ourselves, which prevent us from trusting and objectively evaluating the potential leaders who are trying to lift us beyond our normal existence to a superior level. There are a number of leaders all around us who have the potential and are eager to guide us in achieving our true potential and raising us to a higher plane of existence whom we fail to recognize due to our own preconceived fears.
The way out of this is two fold: First, to realize that you in most cases you always have the freedom to move out of a relationship as and when you feel like and second, to look upon "being influenced" not as a tool of exploitation in the hands of people more powerful than us but as an opportunity for us to fully achieve our own potential with the help and guidance of persons more knowledgeable or experienced than ourselves.
Power is often thought of as something, which is evil and undesirable and powerful people are regarded as dangerous and manipulative. However once we realize that Power is just a means by which we can influence others (for better or for worse) we begin to realize its importance for each one of us.
If there is one thing we fear even more than power, it is; "being influenced". Being influenced by someone is usually regarded as undesirable and a sign of weakness of the individual. Yet we are being influenced all the time, by parents, neighbors, friends and even advertisements. Every time we accept a friend’s dinner invitation, each time we agree to oblige someone, and every time we buy a product we are "being influenced". We are so caught up in trying to influence others that we are totally ignorant of ourselves being influenced. So if we are being influenced anyway would it not be better to understand the process better and at least be able to select consciously the influence that we most desire.
Leadership has now been described as a relationship between the leader (initiator of the relationship) and the follower in which the leader changes the goals of the follower while keeping in mind the followers' real needs. This clearly indicates that the two roles of leader and follower are not permanent but dependent on the nature of individual relationships. Also we see that the follower has a lot to gain in this relationship, since his / her real goals are addressed.
The leadership relationship in the organizational context is often expressed in the interactions between boss (leader) and subordinate (follower). The boss influences the subordinate in order that he (the subordinate) make’s the boss' and the organization's goal his own and simultaneously takes care of the subordinate's real needs (material rewards and job satisfaction).
A crisis in this relationship is manifested in the form of low motivation levels, low productivity and indiscipline. If we recognize that all motivational problems are a breakdown of the leader-follower relationship, we realize that the obvious solution lies in setting right that relationship.
There are different ways of resolving these leadership (relationship) crises. The most common solution looks at the communication channel between the two individuals and tries two rebuild the link between them by increased interaction, clearing misconceptions and regular feedback. The next method is to influence the attitude and behavior of the leader. There are a number of books and workshops, which teach us on how to be a good leader, how to influence others and how to motivate our workforce.
The basic assumption underlying all these leadership books and workshops is that the sole responsibility for establishing the leadership relationship lies with the leader. Even though we recognize that there are various follower characteristics and attitudes (like cynicism, fear and arrogance) which are impediments to being influenced, we leave it to the leader to overcome all these and establish the relationship. The popular literature available tends to underplay the role of the follower, and considers him to be a passive creature waiting to be influenced by the leaders who are out to get him. It is true that there are highly effective leaders who are able to influence and impress almost everyone. However these persons are rare and the potential of our development into these is limited. Hence the need to look also at the follower and his contribution to the relationship (or its breakdown).
If we move beyond the conventional approach and look at the follower we may be able to evolve a fresh approach to motivation. This approach would consider the follower as an active player who goes beyond his usual cynicism and mistrust and allows himself to be influenced by the leader of his choice in order to help him reach his own life goals. The first step in developing a follower involves identifying those characteristics and attitudes (like cynicism and mistrust), that are a blockage to getting influenced. Next we must try to make the person aware of how in the leadership relationship, there is a potential for his own goals being realized. And finally we must try to instill in the follower a sense of love and respect for the leader.
Something similar to the process described lies at the root of patriotism and love for one's country. Since here there is no person in the form of a leader (the country is an abstract entity) the only way of developing a bond is to influence the followers, which is done by means of books, films and stirring speeches of leaders.
The process of enabling the follower to be more open to being influenced must not be confused with the brainwashing and sloganeering done by some companies to maintain loyalty which is nothing but an attempt by the leader (the company's management) to influence the employees.
What I am suggesting is more at the personal level of the follower. It involves making an individual more open to the ideas and visions of persons around him / her in order to achieve his / her own goals. Obviously this is not an easy job considering that the act of making the individual "more open to being influenced" is itself an act of influence and presupposes an existing leader-follower relationship.
The best method perhaps is for each of us to introspect and to remove all those barriers within ourselves, which prevent us from trusting and objectively evaluating the potential leaders who are trying to lift us beyond our normal existence to a superior level. There are a number of leaders all around us who have the potential and are eager to guide us in achieving our true potential and raising us to a higher plane of existence whom we fail to recognize due to our own preconceived fears.
The way out of this is two fold: First, to realize that you in most cases you always have the freedom to move out of a relationship as and when you feel like and second, to look upon "being influenced" not as a tool of exploitation in the hands of people more powerful than us but as an opportunity for us to fully achieve our own potential with the help and guidance of persons more knowledgeable or experienced than ourselves.
Friday, August 22, 2008
The Elegy on the death of the engineer
Technology has evaded the lives of billions with an unseen ferocity. Social codes have changed and so have the ethos and of codes of daily conduct. In this deluge the most confused is the technocrats of yesterday and the budding engineers of tomorrow…
Change has turned into the unwanted salesman who pops in at the oddest of hours with an infuriating roster of products. Technology mocks at the portals of every institution and the resource centers like libraries resemble Jurassic parks and historical museums. With genetic codes of the most wanted classified columns ushering in avant-garde, engineering colleges of today look blankly at their mediocre armory and the ‘now-not-exploding’ ammunition. Four years in these walls students bandy words of an extinct civilization and learn a trade which finds no buyer. At the end, a confused ensemble walk out into an unforgiving world equipped with nothing other than an extra cell of ‘common sense’. Four years of rigor and hardships and now he has to pick up another set of skills that are alien to his education.
True, the brick and mortar needs a set of hands to make concrete jungles and labyrinthe circuitry, but the engineer behind is the blue collared layman of today. While he values years of ‘experience’ and working , enter the geek of today half as old as he is and twice as current. Speaking a language foreign to the engineers he even plans to retire by forty with a fortune unheard of to the mind which turns to the tune of worn out gears and unlubricated grey matter…
Calamity dawns even though a little late then the beginning of a quest of unlearning and erasing a knowledge block which was bread and butter of a generation long past. Crowding into blocks of new avenues, a sojourn into the unknown embarks. With the curiosity of Alice and the impetuousness of the Cheshire cat , the fight goes on with the worst nightmare of all – Unemployability !
Change has turned into the unwanted salesman who pops in at the oddest of hours with an infuriating roster of products. Technology mocks at the portals of every institution and the resource centers like libraries resemble Jurassic parks and historical museums. With genetic codes of the most wanted classified columns ushering in avant-garde, engineering colleges of today look blankly at their mediocre armory and the ‘now-not-exploding’ ammunition. Four years in these walls students bandy words of an extinct civilization and learn a trade which finds no buyer. At the end, a confused ensemble walk out into an unforgiving world equipped with nothing other than an extra cell of ‘common sense’. Four years of rigor and hardships and now he has to pick up another set of skills that are alien to his education.
True, the brick and mortar needs a set of hands to make concrete jungles and labyrinthe circuitry, but the engineer behind is the blue collared layman of today. While he values years of ‘experience’ and working , enter the geek of today half as old as he is and twice as current. Speaking a language foreign to the engineers he even plans to retire by forty with a fortune unheard of to the mind which turns to the tune of worn out gears and unlubricated grey matter…
Calamity dawns even though a little late then the beginning of a quest of unlearning and erasing a knowledge block which was bread and butter of a generation long past. Crowding into blocks of new avenues, a sojourn into the unknown embarks. With the curiosity of Alice and the impetuousness of the Cheshire cat , the fight goes on with the worst nightmare of all – Unemployability !
The faceless rulers...
The taste that felt similar
The thoughts, which gelled with ease
Every glance threw understanding
Of something tied deep below
The mind worked up myriad thoughts
Of want and desire of every kind
Yet the voices across were ominous
Was I crossing the ubiquitous line?
A breach that brought in gazes
Glowers, glares and the like
Angry faces were those which
Never bothered a glance otherwise
I was amazed by the way
Were we fail to hear our hearts
Blaming a unknown million cribbing
About the chastity of our thoughts
We are ruled by the sundry
The faceless, who set the rules
What is appropriate is a debate
Which we always thrive to avoid
Life has become a pawn
Of unseen, apathetic hands
Who thrill to control and rule
Without an iota of understanding…
The thoughts, which gelled with ease
Every glance threw understanding
Of something tied deep below
The mind worked up myriad thoughts
Of want and desire of every kind
Yet the voices across were ominous
Was I crossing the ubiquitous line?
A breach that brought in gazes
Glowers, glares and the like
Angry faces were those which
Never bothered a glance otherwise
I was amazed by the way
Were we fail to hear our hearts
Blaming a unknown million cribbing
About the chastity of our thoughts
We are ruled by the sundry
The faceless, who set the rules
What is appropriate is a debate
Which we always thrive to avoid
Life has become a pawn
Of unseen, apathetic hands
Who thrill to control and rule
Without an iota of understanding…
On the swan...
The zigzag motion on the rippling waves,
Mastering of a ballet dancer
And the grace that raised raves
The making of every waltz answer.
The beauty was yet subtle
Of a calm and composed inside
Through every mossy whittle
It danced away to every side.
Peace and serene were the mind
The satisfied glances hither
Where no sorrows to bind
And no scene did wither.
But alas, I missed the struggling legs
The strain and the furious fight
To keep moving across each peg
The vigor and the full throat might
The pressure to keep a cool stance
The worries to hide beneath
We all have our swan dance
To never open the sorrow sheath.
Mastering of a ballet dancer
And the grace that raised raves
The making of every waltz answer.
The beauty was yet subtle
Of a calm and composed inside
Through every mossy whittle
It danced away to every side.
Peace and serene were the mind
The satisfied glances hither
Where no sorrows to bind
And no scene did wither.
But alas, I missed the struggling legs
The strain and the furious fight
To keep moving across each peg
The vigor and the full throat might
The pressure to keep a cool stance
The worries to hide beneath
We all have our swan dance
To never open the sorrow sheath.
Have we lost of onions ?
The economy is in a turmoil, bank performances hardly ‘creditable’, stock markets singing elegies which often sound like requiems, the political scenario more horrifying than the best horror shows and the common man is worried about his onions…. With the other topics left in the able hands and laps of our intelligentsia, we move on to the more ‘earthy’ topics like onions.
The problem is nothing short of a catastrophe. The stakeholders in this situation are more than what meets the common eye. One of the important ingredients of most menu, eating will have a subtle void without the inclusions of ample quantities. Besides the vitamins and the proteins it contains , there are some more medical benefits through its use. It provides the much-needed cleanser for the eyes of housewives. In today’s polluted environment the benefit of such a cleanser cannot be trivialized. Of course the tears that it produces finds invaluable niche in securing sentimental apathy from near and dear ones.
Coming out of the cocoon of the household , the corporate too have a thing or two to worry. What will happen to the mouth freshener and the mouth perfume industry ? with the most vital inducer of halitosis ( bad breath for us ) out of the way ,there will definitely be red days ahead for the industry.
If that was not enough , this would lead to unemployment, chaos in that section of the economy.
What will happen to the quintessential ‘Sardarji from Patiala’? What will he crush with his fist to eat with the rotis? The impoverishment of the onions will require him to change his hereditary food habits and of course change is no their favorite topic.
And just when we thought that drug cartels were coming under control, we are faced with a new threat – ‘onion cartels’. This time the perpetrators of the crime may themselves be deified by the hoi polloi for providing their taste buds those nostalgic and wistful memories of a distant past. Law and order will pose new challenges and the social fabric may itself get a riffraff.
But ain’t we going too far. Our leaders I’m sure have worked out agendas to use this as the new missile in their election manifestos. Governments will fall and parties will disappear if this topic is not dealt with . Afterall the politicians themselves have to hear the crib of their house wives.
What the industry is focussing on is the way to leverage this calamity into an investment opportunity. We are talking of a blue chip option and a sunrise industry. Onion plantations will take the stock markets by storm and investors will crowd in money.
But these are all visionary predicts. For the time being the will be ‘ videshi’ onions available in the swadeshi markets. At least now the common man can savor a ‘continental’ delight with every meal !
The problem is nothing short of a catastrophe. The stakeholders in this situation are more than what meets the common eye. One of the important ingredients of most menu, eating will have a subtle void without the inclusions of ample quantities. Besides the vitamins and the proteins it contains , there are some more medical benefits through its use. It provides the much-needed cleanser for the eyes of housewives. In today’s polluted environment the benefit of such a cleanser cannot be trivialized. Of course the tears that it produces finds invaluable niche in securing sentimental apathy from near and dear ones.
Coming out of the cocoon of the household , the corporate too have a thing or two to worry. What will happen to the mouth freshener and the mouth perfume industry ? with the most vital inducer of halitosis ( bad breath for us ) out of the way ,there will definitely be red days ahead for the industry.
If that was not enough , this would lead to unemployment, chaos in that section of the economy.
What will happen to the quintessential ‘Sardarji from Patiala’? What will he crush with his fist to eat with the rotis? The impoverishment of the onions will require him to change his hereditary food habits and of course change is no their favorite topic.
And just when we thought that drug cartels were coming under control, we are faced with a new threat – ‘onion cartels’. This time the perpetrators of the crime may themselves be deified by the hoi polloi for providing their taste buds those nostalgic and wistful memories of a distant past. Law and order will pose new challenges and the social fabric may itself get a riffraff.
But ain’t we going too far. Our leaders I’m sure have worked out agendas to use this as the new missile in their election manifestos. Governments will fall and parties will disappear if this topic is not dealt with . Afterall the politicians themselves have to hear the crib of their house wives.
What the industry is focussing on is the way to leverage this calamity into an investment opportunity. We are talking of a blue chip option and a sunrise industry. Onion plantations will take the stock markets by storm and investors will crowd in money.
But these are all visionary predicts. For the time being the will be ‘ videshi’ onions available in the swadeshi markets. At least now the common man can savor a ‘continental’ delight with every meal !
The way side inn...
There was clamor in the air,
Blurs of smoke was fogging in
I breathed in the ambience
And trotted to an empty corner.
There were umpteen calls echoing,
White dresses floating around,
The glasses seem to clatter in chorus
And forks and knives went of in tandem.
Amidst the orchestra of cutlery,
I found a desolate corner,
A neglected table cloth gave off a sigh,
A creaking chair squealed under my weight.
A glass of water with swimming ice,
Looked as solitary as the Artic,
The neglected was yet too known,
For none wanted the pure anymore.
Blurs of smoke was fogging in
I breathed in the ambience
And trotted to an empty corner.
There were umpteen calls echoing,
White dresses floating around,
The glasses seem to clatter in chorus
And forks and knives went of in tandem.
Amidst the orchestra of cutlery,
I found a desolate corner,
A neglected table cloth gave off a sigh,
A creaking chair squealed under my weight.
A glass of water with swimming ice,
Looked as solitary as the Artic,
The neglected was yet too known,
For none wanted the pure anymore.
The early morning...
The eerie feeling of an alien dawn,
Creeps into the heart as the birds chirp goodnight,
Hours of interrupted sleep,
And an early morning and the flight.
A lump moves with virility,
A vulnerable glance at the sleeping beauty,
I could gaze for a million years,
If not for the honk in the yonder.
I collect my wistful pack,
Walk cautiously down the mundane steps,
I miss the unseen level and scramble to balance,
So similar and yet so different.
The trip is a count of good glimpses,
The air that of a lazy morning,
The occasional light brings you to life
But then you are lost again.
The abyss was never too deep,
Yet I kept falling down,
There were trusses and props
But never did I extend an arm for help.
A monotony embedded in the moment,
Void spread around the ambience,
Vaccum echoed into mute ears,
A smell of the plain and the normal
The reverie went on till the stop,
I whipped out a couple and the cursory ‘Thanks’
Still in the stupor and the blur
I move to another day…
Creeps into the heart as the birds chirp goodnight,
Hours of interrupted sleep,
And an early morning and the flight.
A lump moves with virility,
A vulnerable glance at the sleeping beauty,
I could gaze for a million years,
If not for the honk in the yonder.
I collect my wistful pack,
Walk cautiously down the mundane steps,
I miss the unseen level and scramble to balance,
So similar and yet so different.
The trip is a count of good glimpses,
The air that of a lazy morning,
The occasional light brings you to life
But then you are lost again.
The abyss was never too deep,
Yet I kept falling down,
There were trusses and props
But never did I extend an arm for help.
A monotony embedded in the moment,
Void spread around the ambience,
Vaccum echoed into mute ears,
A smell of the plain and the normal
The reverie went on till the stop,
I whipped out a couple and the cursory ‘Thanks’
Still in the stupor and the blur
I move to another day…
The other side...
I moved over in a reverie ,
The familiar feel of the empty space,
A naked void woke me up,
And shook me to cognizance…
I was watching a gloom,
Of a guestless inn,
A rainbow missing its colours,
A pot without its gold,
It was the softer side ,
The side she lay herself,
Her curls found home on a disheveled sheet,
And the pillow was embossed with her head,
Stars shone as a halo,
Fairies guarded it with envy,
It was the heaven on earth,
It was her side of the bed…
The familiar feel of the empty space,
A naked void woke me up,
And shook me to cognizance…
I was watching a gloom,
Of a guestless inn,
A rainbow missing its colours,
A pot without its gold,
It was the softer side ,
The side she lay herself,
Her curls found home on a disheveled sheet,
And the pillow was embossed with her head,
Stars shone as a halo,
Fairies guarded it with envy,
It was the heaven on earth,
It was her side of the bed…
On inebriation...
The air was a stale yellow,
The drink was paler to a fever,
Sipping in the quarts,
The adieu was way too swift…
The feather was light ,
The float soft and smooth,
I moved over the void,
And entered my realm…
Blank were the thoughts,
Colorless and then the pristine,
Words conjured up an imagination,
Without limits and realities…
Another swig and a moment,
Clarity blended in labyrinthine,
A walk across the indelible,
I sighed a relief of familiarity…
A whisper in the ear echoed,
Of the trumpets of entry,
Atlantis shone on the horizon,
And the top peaks of a Xanadu…
Then was the bevy of beauties,
Swarming in herds of millions,
Stalking like the honey of the yonder,
I was sweet and inviting in a jiffy…
Limits were a fantasy,
Blurs had bold borders,
I fetched a mind,
To sail me through the lagoon…
The night was gentle and paced,
I fell onto the bosom of comfort,
Hoping for a dream,
Till another mundane morning…
Into the darkness...
I walked out into the balcony,
A short wall bordered the edges,
A barrier between the lights behind,
And the ocean of darkness and flickering lights…
I felt the cold railings,
There was the soft purr of a lonely mosquito,
Fireflies flew randomly in merry,
I looked at the lights on the concretes ahead…
I looked at the windows lighted,
Balconies frigid in the blackness ,
Were there souls looking at the night,
Searching for lights and a distant face?
Loneliness echoing in my ears,
Thoughts stooping my shoulders,
I shaked my head like a pendulum,
And then the shine met my eyes…
A jewel that was on a window,
Eyes sneaking through a curtain gap,
The gaze froze my arms,
I lowered to focus my clouded eyes…
We stared into the stillness of the night,
A fresh wave of air brushed the curtain away,
The jewels belonged to a forlorn pale face ,
As lonely as the darkness between…
A nod of approval,
And the curtains veiled the face again,
The lights went off ,
But the shine was still on the window…
They seemed ashamed of the loneliness,
Sad to look out into the darkness for solace,
A look I had seen in the mirror,
On many a solitary night…
A short wall bordered the edges,
A barrier between the lights behind,
And the ocean of darkness and flickering lights…
I felt the cold railings,
There was the soft purr of a lonely mosquito,
Fireflies flew randomly in merry,
I looked at the lights on the concretes ahead…
I looked at the windows lighted,
Balconies frigid in the blackness ,
Were there souls looking at the night,
Searching for lights and a distant face?
Loneliness echoing in my ears,
Thoughts stooping my shoulders,
I shaked my head like a pendulum,
And then the shine met my eyes…
A jewel that was on a window,
Eyes sneaking through a curtain gap,
The gaze froze my arms,
I lowered to focus my clouded eyes…
We stared into the stillness of the night,
A fresh wave of air brushed the curtain away,
The jewels belonged to a forlorn pale face ,
As lonely as the darkness between…
A nod of approval,
And the curtains veiled the face again,
The lights went off ,
But the shine was still on the window…
They seemed ashamed of the loneliness,
Sad to look out into the darkness for solace,
A look I had seen in the mirror,
On many a solitary night…
Daily Scoop 1
The scene was one we pass off with a ‘nothing in particular attitude’. But a late train and ennui in general, induced a not too casual perusal of the station premises. A group of filthy smelling urchins had crowded around the edge of the platform and were looking with immense glee skywards. A ball of thread in the hands of two of them explained the laughter and the enthusiasm. There were two distant spots in the horizon, which move in random abandon. The dialect was an incomprehensible nasal tone punctuated with the shrill of whistles. But the exuberance and the joy of the toddlers were evident. At least someone was not bothered about the late running trains and the herd of flies, which seemed to be everywhere.
The sun set and the group dispersed in parts. There came in the lights and another bunch of ‘enlightened’ mosquitoes. A chaiwallah with a soiled or perhaps rusted kettle came along. A cup of tea as a companion didn’t seem to be bad proposition. Ignoring the package, I audaciously asked for a cup. The tea was not bad at all. “ What time is it, babuji?” enquired the host dressed in tatters. On hearing the time, the chaiwallah hurried along with an urgency our trains seemed to have forgot.
A voice from no where announced that ‘my train’ was indefinitely late. No apologies, only a silent mockery of the passengers, who had by now unpacked on the floor of the railway station and were settling down to their rigmarole. There seemed to be no panic and the quietude was alarming.
After an unsuccessful bout with the hordes of mosquitoes, I got up to stretch a little. The ambience was one of calm. The officer at the enquiry had removed his shirt and was scratching his armpits. There was a leaking faucet under a banner ‘ Drinking Water ’ and a seemingly fleas stricken dog was lapping at the puddle formed below. A group of ladies were fanning themselves with their sari ends and seemed to have a lively discussion on. There was a cow defecating at the edge of the platform caring a damn about the trains, the passengers or the station.
“ Saabji, latest evening newspaper”, I looked behind one of those urchins, now with a bundle of paper under his arms. “ There has been a bomb blast in New Delhi” reported the boy with the authority of those roadside ‘cure all medicine’ salesmen. I shelled out the barter and picked a newspaper. The boy held the coins to his eyes and seemed to offer a silent prayer. “ Boni he, Saabji” he explained to my quizzical look.
The news lines declaring some nuclear weapon has tested positive and we are no a certified 'potential' annihilator, and the details went into reams of pages. The Prime Minister says that India can now feel secure. Of course what a relief thinking that when an enemy pukes one of those nukes and inflicts severe destruction, we will blow more nukes in their land and decimate their millions. India, it seems will now be revered as a force to reckon with. This will be a milestone in the history of India, a day every Indian should put in the better pages of their memory. And now Indians can be proud of being Indians. What an exhilarating moment! I should share with the others, I thought. The urchins will be delighted to hear that now Indians can also ‘play’ with bombs. The chaiwallah, I’m sure will distribute free tea on this auspicious occasion. The officer will perhaps wear his shirt to ‘dress’ for the occasion. The ladies can sing some patriotic songs to illuminate the event. The cow will of course smile bovinely and shit in ‘peace’. As for me I decided to put the entire issue of late trains behind me; afterall how can one crib about a few late trains when the country is busy becoming a 'new clear power'!
The sun set and the group dispersed in parts. There came in the lights and another bunch of ‘enlightened’ mosquitoes. A chaiwallah with a soiled or perhaps rusted kettle came along. A cup of tea as a companion didn’t seem to be bad proposition. Ignoring the package, I audaciously asked for a cup. The tea was not bad at all. “ What time is it, babuji?” enquired the host dressed in tatters. On hearing the time, the chaiwallah hurried along with an urgency our trains seemed to have forgot.
A voice from no where announced that ‘my train’ was indefinitely late. No apologies, only a silent mockery of the passengers, who had by now unpacked on the floor of the railway station and were settling down to their rigmarole. There seemed to be no panic and the quietude was alarming.
After an unsuccessful bout with the hordes of mosquitoes, I got up to stretch a little. The ambience was one of calm. The officer at the enquiry had removed his shirt and was scratching his armpits. There was a leaking faucet under a banner ‘ Drinking Water ’ and a seemingly fleas stricken dog was lapping at the puddle formed below. A group of ladies were fanning themselves with their sari ends and seemed to have a lively discussion on. There was a cow defecating at the edge of the platform caring a damn about the trains, the passengers or the station.
“ Saabji, latest evening newspaper”, I looked behind one of those urchins, now with a bundle of paper under his arms. “ There has been a bomb blast in New Delhi” reported the boy with the authority of those roadside ‘cure all medicine’ salesmen. I shelled out the barter and picked a newspaper. The boy held the coins to his eyes and seemed to offer a silent prayer. “ Boni he, Saabji” he explained to my quizzical look.
The news lines declaring some nuclear weapon has tested positive and we are no a certified 'potential' annihilator, and the details went into reams of pages. The Prime Minister says that India can now feel secure. Of course what a relief thinking that when an enemy pukes one of those nukes and inflicts severe destruction, we will blow more nukes in their land and decimate their millions. India, it seems will now be revered as a force to reckon with. This will be a milestone in the history of India, a day every Indian should put in the better pages of their memory. And now Indians can be proud of being Indians. What an exhilarating moment! I should share with the others, I thought. The urchins will be delighted to hear that now Indians can also ‘play’ with bombs. The chaiwallah, I’m sure will distribute free tea on this auspicious occasion. The officer will perhaps wear his shirt to ‘dress’ for the occasion. The ladies can sing some patriotic songs to illuminate the event. The cow will of course smile bovinely and shit in ‘peace’. As for me I decided to put the entire issue of late trains behind me; afterall how can one crib about a few late trains when the country is busy becoming a 'new clear power'!
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