I saw ‘the great debaters’ recently, a brilliant film by Denzel Washington. It’s a story of a debate team in 1930s Texas from a black college who beat the odds to script another underdog epic. The movie with Denzel Washington and Forrest Whitaker (can you ask for anything more) is moving and extremely passionate. For all of you who thought oppression came only in one form and that racism had only an ugly face, you need to see what it all really meant. The movie should help dispel and affirm some of those notions.
But beyond the movie and its higher morals lay something simmering at the bottom that struck me. A simple question: Why do we debate? Is there any value in this verbal battle of minds? Debates are pointless and unproductive..
I SHALL FIRST SPEAK IN FAVOUR OF THE MOTION:
Where has this exercise taken us? How is a farmer suffering from the drought in India concerned about a debate on government policies and plans to help him? NDTV loves a good debate and so do our national dailies so that young and old minds in this country can ponder, wonder, concur, differ and eventually forget. We have created an educated mass of people who enjoy their debate. I hope we understand that as a collective we make a difference when we are ready to be proactive, not deliver empty verdicts to fill empty minds.
Have debates on moral policing lead to any affirmative action in restoring the rights of a young girl or boy to express themselves? The answer is obvious, but if a cup of tea can go down on a debate, then why not. An opinion is of great value in our country, right from the things we buy to the people we marry but no opinion can change the plight of one who has nothing. The government continues debating bills which take ages to get passed while a majority of them prefer sidelining major issues to bring up ones that interest their constituency or even worse, their pockets. Hypocrisy is inherent in us but apathy is a danger to us all.
Stop speaking. Start doing.
I SHALL SPEAK AGAINST THE MOTION:
What’s wrong with a country of debaters? What’s wrong with people who have an opinion and who can express this and help make a difference? Do we live like in China or Myanmar where we live in constant fear that our voices will be taken away from us someday?
Opinions lead to solutions and it all begins with a debate. Not every man in this country has the power or opportunity to make a difference but he has his opinion which is stronger than a hollow promise to change the world. When a farmer waits for the rains, the least another man can do is tell our leaders that the farmer cannot be left alone. If this sharing of opinions happens through a debate on national TV then it will surely wake somebody up. A revolution is not always a solution. A country with a debate in their bellies is one that is ready to fight for what is right. Consider it a part of a process.
If there was anymore proof of the worth of a debate then it lies in my opponent’s stand because at the end of the day my opponent realizes that a debate is the first step to pro action and acceptance.
Stop cribbing. Start debating.
the world disappearing
"The arrest, detention, abduction or any other form of deprivation of liberty by agents of the State or by persons, or groups of persons acting with the authorization, support or acquiescence of the State, followed by a refusal to acknowledge the deprivation of liberty or by concealment of the fate or whereabouts of the disappeared person, which place such a person outside the protection of the law."
Rosendo Radilla was 60 when he was forcibly disappeared in August 1974. A social activist and former mayor of Atoyac municipality, Guerrero state, Mexico, he was last seen in a military barracks, days after he was detained at a roadblock. Fellow detainees reported that he had been tortured
More than 3,000 ethnic Albanians were the victims of enforced disappearances during the armed conflict in Kosovo in 1999. These were at the hands of the Serbian police, paramilitary and military forces. More than 800 Serbs, Roma and others were abducted by armed ethnic Albanian groups. Some 1,900 families in Kosovo and Serbia are still waiting to find out what happened to their relatives.
In the Philippines, over 1,600 people have disappeared since the 1970s, mostly during counter-insurgency operations against left-leaning or secessionist groups.
Sunday 30 August marks the 26th International Day of the Disappeared. Every year, Amnesty International, along with other NGOs, families associations and grassroots groups, remembers the disappeared and demands justice for victims of enforced disappearances through activities and events.
To combat enforced disappearance, in 2006 the UN General Assembly adopted the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance. Once entered into force, the Convention will be an effective way to help prevent enforced disappearances, establish the truth about this crime, punish the perpetrators and provide reparations to the victims and their families
… We live in an imperfect world surrounded by our prejudices and twisted beliefs of how to live it. We need to change our perceptions and understanding of the world that surrounds us because it’s not the same we believe we live in.
Stay informed..Stay aware.
Rosendo Radilla was 60 when he was forcibly disappeared in August 1974. A social activist and former mayor of Atoyac municipality, Guerrero state, Mexico, he was last seen in a military barracks, days after he was detained at a roadblock. Fellow detainees reported that he had been tortured
More than 3,000 ethnic Albanians were the victims of enforced disappearances during the armed conflict in Kosovo in 1999. These were at the hands of the Serbian police, paramilitary and military forces. More than 800 Serbs, Roma and others were abducted by armed ethnic Albanian groups. Some 1,900 families in Kosovo and Serbia are still waiting to find out what happened to their relatives.
In the Philippines, over 1,600 people have disappeared since the 1970s, mostly during counter-insurgency operations against left-leaning or secessionist groups.
Sunday 30 August marks the 26th International Day of the Disappeared. Every year, Amnesty International, along with other NGOs, families associations and grassroots groups, remembers the disappeared and demands justice for victims of enforced disappearances through activities and events.
To combat enforced disappearance, in 2006 the UN General Assembly adopted the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearance. Once entered into force, the Convention will be an effective way to help prevent enforced disappearances, establish the truth about this crime, punish the perpetrators and provide reparations to the victims and their families
… We live in an imperfect world surrounded by our prejudices and twisted beliefs of how to live it. We need to change our perceptions and understanding of the world that surrounds us because it’s not the same we believe we live in.
Stay informed..Stay aware.
a letter to my shareholders
To everyone who has a stake in Somanna Inc.
all of you have invested a lot of faith and patience in me and in true corporate style i can inform you that the growth in your share value has been extremely robust. the evolution of my everyday intelligence to one which i can claim as my core competency is phenomenal. its not just the MBA but also the company i keep which pushes me to pull up my socks. the competition out there is innovating as you read this but we keep our cool and keep ploughing ahead. no investor should expect quick returns or an interim dividend, the process is slow and painful but will lead to eventual growth. the economic recession has had no effect on me. none at all, so that ends there. but the intellectual recession i have suffered from all these years has been disturbing and thankfully i have finally seen through it.
all of you have invested a lot of faith and patience in me and in true corporate style i can inform you that the growth in your share value has been extremely robust. the evolution of my everyday intelligence to one which i can claim as my core competency is phenomenal. its not just the MBA but also the company i keep which pushes me to pull up my socks. the competition out there is innovating as you read this but we keep our cool and keep ploughing ahead. no investor should expect quick returns or an interim dividend, the process is slow and painful but will lead to eventual growth. the economic recession has had no effect on me. none at all, so that ends there. but the intellectual recession i have suffered from all these years has been disturbing and thankfully i have finally seen through it.
to move ahead we need to follow a strategy of understanding from your side and a sense of belief in me. in my learning is your value and in my progress your profits. with an average of 4 hours of sleep every night, the brand is developing its durability and is slowly becoming impregnable.
i wish i could elaborate on the future but that will just take away from the mystery. this is not the end of me addressing you, the faith if lost,will be restored. the brand is growing and you will be taken along on this journey.
if anybody is interested, they are always free to invest in this incredible growth story. Spread the word.
love undying
A liitle pepper, maybe a teaspoon and a half, a tinge of that atrocious chilli powder and a belief that what you are going to taste is a whiff of heaven. She dipped her hands into the strange concoction and and took a taste of that obnoxious mixture of pure delight. As she savoured her creation I saw heaven in her eyes, there was this sense of religion that spread like warmth in me. I had begun to believe in her wonder and I wanted to be a part of her. I didn’t want to standby and enjoy the view but feel a part of it. She had this strange sense of reality where all she wanted was some more fantasy. Her hands were still trembling as she ate her little meal. When she began to walk away from me the warmth seeped away and then with surgical precision I got my heart broken. Maybe 6 minutes later she had reached home as I sat in a lonely part of my house wondering if I had the courage to step up. I had a bit of her in me, love does that to you. I picked up the bowl she had left and slowly began to eat it. It sickened me but I was going to eat it because she had left it for me.
Her name was Sally and she was trying to kill me.
Love is a tangible feeling. I have always touched it and its hurt me. Once she tried to burn the house down and I sat inside as my room was burning, my study table had a book with every thought I had ever had about Sally in it and I saw it burn. When I turned my head I saw Sally with her face pressed against the window looking at me. I had never loved her more. She wanted to hurt me and see me die a cruel death but maybe that was what I believed was love. I walked towards the window with all my sense of fear deserting me and in an unnecessary moment of madness I put out my hand to touch her and she just brushed it away threatening to cut my wrist.
I just wish she could see me bleed.
She had taken me up the nearby mountain for a picnic once. She then stood at the edge of the cliff and asked me to jump or she would. I stood and looked at her in disbelief as she threatened me. She edged nearer to the end and I was at a loss. She screamed and banged the ground with her feet and I had no choice. The thought of seeing her fall more than hitting the ground was what would have killed me. Or maybe it wouldn’t have but I ran past her and jumped. I had a moment of nirvana where I was airborne for 7 seconds and when I touched the ground, I knew no pain. I turned and looked up at her face which was so small in the distance and all she did was pick up a stone and throw it at me. That hurt me more than her hate for me. I needed to know I could survive this misery to reach my destination.
Every once in a while my mind asked me questions I could never answer. It wanted to know why I had become a victim of this cruel fate. I had loved her for many years yet all that Sally saw in me was an object of pure loath and disgust. I believed that here was a time she had loved, long before my mind could remind me of how it felt. Sally wasn’t an average girl. Her beauty spread around like a disease when she entered a room and it infected me everytime I felt her near me. I couldn’t even keep a photo of hers near me, because it soaked the life out of me. Mine was no conventional love and ours was no straightforward love story. I remember times I have sat up whole nights next to her bed watching her sleep and hoping the day would not come…
On a similar night like that I was enchanted into a slumber looking at her eyes and lips wildly tremble as she dreamt of something horrific. When I woke up she was screaming and she turned and saw me next to her. She became silent and ran her fingers across my face, down to my neck and the next second she was choking me and I caught hold of her hand and my eyes were pleading with her. She cried as she tried to strangle me but she couldn’t. I moved away and fell on the floor, while she just sat in bed wondering what had gone wrong. I slowly stood up to look at her only to see anguish and disgust like never before. I held her for sometime and I thought it was over but she pushed me away and looked around for something with which she could hurt me. She didn’t want to kill me now but just hurt me.
That night a man wept and so did his heart.
Sally never really was going to recover, she had gone way too deep to realize she was sinking and a part of me knew that I could never heal her. I was too selfish and my love too great I believed but I just couldn’t let her go and that was what was ruining her. I had to let go and I finally decided to do it. She was walking alone in the garden and I walked up beside her and let her see me but before she could hurt me, I kissed her on the cheek and signaled for a minute of her time. I saw the rage build up in her as I just looked into her eyes and inhaled her beauty like never before and finally told her that I would never meet her again. I could see her sister coming and I knew I had to go. I walked out of her life never to return still wishing I could have felt the pain of all the times she wanted to hurt me. Wishing she could actually kill me because that would have been a better death than the one I had had many years ago, when Sally loved me…
vision statement
J.D.Bernal very wisely once wrote, that man has two futures, the future of desire and the future of fate but man’s reason has never taught him to separate both.
I believe that my life uptil this point which has been a blessed existence of 21 years has been nothing but my fate as I have been guided all this while. Now is the time I chart out my future of desire, a future which has clarity and a velocity which cannot be disturbed by the notions of everyday innuendo. Making a niche for oneself has become a clichéd thought in a time when being out of the ordinary is the call of the hour while doing the same is a quest many perish in. I have seen the tides and the madness of my time and now its my turn to rise above it all and carve a vision for myself which will fulfill me and uplift me in ways more than just human.
I am on the verge of completing my graduation in Commerce. The road ahead seems to be opening up as I prepare myself for my MBA at SDM-IMD, Mysore where I will begin my journey in professionalism. The ultimate destination is to be a part of the fascinating world of advertising. Advertising is a phenomenon which has the ability to move a million people in just a few seconds and this very power and intensity of advertising has always had me in awe. I have done an internship with JWT, Bangalore with its client servicing team to get an all important insight into the working psyche of the advertising world and found a whole plethora of opportunity. I want my MBA to provide me with the necessary skills to slip into this dream role of mine with ease as the ultimate desire is to start an advertising agency of my own. A very important element of fulfilling this dream of mine would be to first get the necessary experience which would help me to understand the business side better. If I can take the liberty of being idealistic then I would like to believe that quality in creativity and more attention towards the client would be top priority. Figuring out a whole 360 degree approach to every requirement of the client would be our endeavor. The agency would have a highly motivated group of creators dedicated to the cause of society wherein we would do pro bono work for NGOs and the government to come up with innovative media and ambient campaigns to make a difference in the little world around us. There will be a committed approach from us to link our clients with these social projects enabling a better connect with society and the corporate world. This approach to advertising I believe is 360 degree as goodwill of any corporate entity is of the topmost importance in a rapidly declining ethical scenario faced by companies today.
This vision of a an agency with a difference is very important to me as it becomes the answer to my question, ‘what can I give back to society?’. This fulfilling mission would provide the foundation for many more similar motivated projects and that would be the pinnacle of my efforts. I also would like to create a working environment where ideas transcend position and protocol and make for a bridge between the client and the agency. The agency must work in tandem with an everchanging world and mindset.
therefore my vision lies in the unity of my thought and action, if only am i able to convert these thoughts into something tangible will i be able to prove my worth to myself and rewrite my future of fate to a future of my desire.
I believe that my life uptil this point which has been a blessed existence of 21 years has been nothing but my fate as I have been guided all this while. Now is the time I chart out my future of desire, a future which has clarity and a velocity which cannot be disturbed by the notions of everyday innuendo. Making a niche for oneself has become a clichéd thought in a time when being out of the ordinary is the call of the hour while doing the same is a quest many perish in. I have seen the tides and the madness of my time and now its my turn to rise above it all and carve a vision for myself which will fulfill me and uplift me in ways more than just human.
I am on the verge of completing my graduation in Commerce. The road ahead seems to be opening up as I prepare myself for my MBA at SDM-IMD, Mysore where I will begin my journey in professionalism. The ultimate destination is to be a part of the fascinating world of advertising. Advertising is a phenomenon which has the ability to move a million people in just a few seconds and this very power and intensity of advertising has always had me in awe. I have done an internship with JWT, Bangalore with its client servicing team to get an all important insight into the working psyche of the advertising world and found a whole plethora of opportunity. I want my MBA to provide me with the necessary skills to slip into this dream role of mine with ease as the ultimate desire is to start an advertising agency of my own. A very important element of fulfilling this dream of mine would be to first get the necessary experience which would help me to understand the business side better. If I can take the liberty of being idealistic then I would like to believe that quality in creativity and more attention towards the client would be top priority. Figuring out a whole 360 degree approach to every requirement of the client would be our endeavor. The agency would have a highly motivated group of creators dedicated to the cause of society wherein we would do pro bono work for NGOs and the government to come up with innovative media and ambient campaigns to make a difference in the little world around us. There will be a committed approach from us to link our clients with these social projects enabling a better connect with society and the corporate world. This approach to advertising I believe is 360 degree as goodwill of any corporate entity is of the topmost importance in a rapidly declining ethical scenario faced by companies today.
This vision of a an agency with a difference is very important to me as it becomes the answer to my question, ‘what can I give back to society?’. This fulfilling mission would provide the foundation for many more similar motivated projects and that would be the pinnacle of my efforts. I also would like to create a working environment where ideas transcend position and protocol and make for a bridge between the client and the agency. The agency must work in tandem with an everchanging world and mindset.
therefore my vision lies in the unity of my thought and action, if only am i able to convert these thoughts into something tangible will i be able to prove my worth to myself and rewrite my future of fate to a future of my desire.
my life: chapter 2
Expiry Period
My sister had warned me. She was already suffering from it and she said I was slowly getting the symptoms. It was a dangerous disease most children whose fathers are in the army suffer but none of them know about it, it hits them once every two or three years. Some lucky ones escape this dreaded disease but alas, I fell prey to it. The disease is called chicken pox, nah, just joking. Its actually called expiry period (I know the name is a bit cheesy but I just came up with it so you can’t blame me). It’s a state of my mind wherein after you have stayed in a place for 2 or 3 years, you then feel like moving out for no apparent reason. While my sister began to suffer severe bouts of EP and I was just catching it from her, we moved from Lucknow to Pune and this time, along came my Dad.
Pune was the first real, modern city we had gone to (no offence to Lucknow, your one rocking place, but c’mon, get real). We shifted into the army colony and I was the new kid. The ‘new kid’ in the army is always the cause of a lot of curiosity. Everyone are like ‘ok now what does this guy do different’.
The one thing common to all kids in the army is cricket. No, I must rephrase, the one thing common to all kids in India, is cricket. So you better be good at it or else your left out. I was quite the bowler, I was a lean, mean bowling machine. I used to bowl at the speed of 12 bowls an over (I used to give away too many extras, but that was my strategy, to confuse the batsmen, it didn’t work too well). Slowly I brought in a revolution. It was called Hide and Seek. Cricket was over, and so were my extra long overs. But I still had problems making proper friends. I thought I was over it but there were many days when everyone would finish their Hide and seek without bothering to look for me. But as I mentioned earlier I had my friend, I gave him a name, Neal. He was really good to me, he was there when I needed him and when I had people around me he would disappear. He was giving me a chance to make real friends I guess but I was happy with him.
In Pune, I joined another one of those ‘best schools in town’. Getting in was a bit of a problem, as this time I laughed at the principal when she asked me a math related question during the interview. My parents nearly cried, while I laughed. Neal laughed along with me. He always said I had a great sense of humour.
On the first day of school I had my second crush. Now I was in a boys school and was sitting and wondering what was wrong in that place, everybody looked the same. And then out from all the confusion and chaos, came Ms Gulati (turns out she was Mrs Gulati). I had never known love like this before, I was 8. She seated herself at the table and opened out the register and called out our names. I was so lost in her musical voice that 45 names later I realized she hadn’t called out my name.
‘Anybody whose name I didn’t call out’, I came back to my senses.
‘Mine, miss’
‘ Oh I knew your name, you just looked a bit dazed, so I didn’t call it out’, and then she smiled.
Neal was sitting next to me, as I was the only one in the class sitting alone. He winked at me when he saw Ms Gulati’s smile.
I skipped home that day. Neal followed me all the way, for the first time I was totally ignoring him but he didn’t mind.
‘You got to learn to tie your shoe laces, your 9 now’, this was my paranoid mom and she rightfully was, I still didn’t know how to tie my shoe laces.
‘No cricket till you learn to tie your laces’.
Who wants to go? I thought. After all I was hardly ever involved in the game. After the sad and untimely demise of hide and seek, I was left on the side again. But I was still the best fielder and nobody could disagree on that.
Ms Gulati slowly began liking me, after all I was a good student. My math was still mediocre, especially when my Dad tried to teach me because now when he asked me a question I didn’t laugh anymore, I blushed, because I was thinking of Ms. Gulati now.
‘How much is 2*2?’ and my face would become red and so would my Dad’s but for entirely different reasons.
I was in the 2nd standard now and was chosen for the school play, by guess who. Yes your right, Ms.Gulati. She wanted me to play the role of a prince and my mom told me that princes were brave and handsome men.
‘So that’s what Ms.Gulati thinks of me’. But unfortunately Ms. Gulati had different plans. I was to play the prince in Sleeping Beauty, remember the same story where this gal sleeps of and this dude on a horse comes and kisses her and she then wakes up from her hangover, ya the same one. Well so I was the ‘dude’ but the problem was that the ‘gal’ too, was a dude (boys school, remember)
‘You don’t have to really kiss him, just make it look as if you are’, was Ms. Gulati’s solution.
So easy for her to say. Neal was having a good time laughing at me, he knew I was caught in this evil trap laid out by my very own love who had deceived me with her web of deceit and betrayal leaving me wondering, ‘How the &^%$ am I going to get out of this?.
Neal had an idea. I loved it.
The Annual Day of our school arrived, there was excitement, parents, food and lipstick on my face!! For heavens sake, I was the prince, wasn’t I supposed to look like a man, but as Ms. Gulati did the make up I didn’t complain. But I was going to take my revenge and it was going to be sweet. Ms. Gulati, Beware!!!
So our play finally started and my part was coming as I got onto my wooden horse on which I had to come. I had to get of it, kneel down in as chivalrous a manner I could and kiss the fair lady on her cheek. I did everything according to the script, I came on my wooden horse, many said that I looked like a prince out of a fairytale (the scary ones I think). Parked my horse beside my fair lady, got of the horse and as the narrator came to the kiss, I picked up the wooden horse, bent it low and placed it on the cheek of the princess and as the narrator stared in horror, the princess woke up to the loudest applause and laughter that hall had ever heard. I put the horse down and took a bow and ran of the stage with the horse ala Mask of Zorro style.
Back stage I basked in my new found glory with Neal for only a few minutes and then in came Ms. Gulati, anger all over her face. I had taken my revenge.
The next few days turned out to be the best of my life, the princess of the play, Vishal, loathed my existence and Ms. Gulati hated me, but I had got over her. Otherwise I was a hero for pulling of one of the bravest stunts in the history of the school. Even the seniors congratulated me. Neal seemed to have disappeared for a few days but as my popularity faded away Neal came back and so did my normal life. I was happy but I did miss the appreciation, it seemed like for the first time I was accepted. My parents began to think I had got over my problem but I was falling deeper into it. Neal was becoming a bigger part of my life and even though people now wanted to be my friends, I still preferred Neal because he always listened to me and I always agreed with him. I was 10 and growing fast.
EP was showing its symptoms again, I wanted to get out. It didn’t take long for me to get my medicine. Dad came home one day, ‘We have been posted to Bengdubi’.
‘Who’s Dubi?’, my sister asked.
‘The place’s name is Bengdubi, it’s an army cantonment near Siliguri.’
‘Now what the hell is Siliguri’, said my mom.
‘ The place is near Calcutta, in West Bengal, got it’. Dad walked out of the room in a huff.
I was ecstatic. Mom had already prepared herself for this. I looked at my sister to see if she had come out of her EP as we were now finally going but I saw something different, I saw tears. I didn’t understand this, nor did Neal. We were happy, a new place, another chance for me to try harder at making some new friends.
Everything was packed, we were ready to move, again. It was a rainy day when we got into our train to Delhi. As the rain pounded the train, I saw the tears in my sister’s eyes and then I came to know the reason as a group of her friends came to say bye to her. I never understood why she cried so much that day, it would take me a long time to understand. But for the time being I decided that if this was how having friends was going to be than I didn’t want to have anything to do with them. The rain subsided and so did my sisters tears as we got of at Delhi station.
My sister had warned me. She was already suffering from it and she said I was slowly getting the symptoms. It was a dangerous disease most children whose fathers are in the army suffer but none of them know about it, it hits them once every two or three years. Some lucky ones escape this dreaded disease but alas, I fell prey to it. The disease is called chicken pox, nah, just joking. Its actually called expiry period (I know the name is a bit cheesy but I just came up with it so you can’t blame me). It’s a state of my mind wherein after you have stayed in a place for 2 or 3 years, you then feel like moving out for no apparent reason. While my sister began to suffer severe bouts of EP and I was just catching it from her, we moved from Lucknow to Pune and this time, along came my Dad.
Pune was the first real, modern city we had gone to (no offence to Lucknow, your one rocking place, but c’mon, get real). We shifted into the army colony and I was the new kid. The ‘new kid’ in the army is always the cause of a lot of curiosity. Everyone are like ‘ok now what does this guy do different’.
The one thing common to all kids in the army is cricket. No, I must rephrase, the one thing common to all kids in India, is cricket. So you better be good at it or else your left out. I was quite the bowler, I was a lean, mean bowling machine. I used to bowl at the speed of 12 bowls an over (I used to give away too many extras, but that was my strategy, to confuse the batsmen, it didn’t work too well). Slowly I brought in a revolution. It was called Hide and Seek. Cricket was over, and so were my extra long overs. But I still had problems making proper friends. I thought I was over it but there were many days when everyone would finish their Hide and seek without bothering to look for me. But as I mentioned earlier I had my friend, I gave him a name, Neal. He was really good to me, he was there when I needed him and when I had people around me he would disappear. He was giving me a chance to make real friends I guess but I was happy with him.
In Pune, I joined another one of those ‘best schools in town’. Getting in was a bit of a problem, as this time I laughed at the principal when she asked me a math related question during the interview. My parents nearly cried, while I laughed. Neal laughed along with me. He always said I had a great sense of humour.
On the first day of school I had my second crush. Now I was in a boys school and was sitting and wondering what was wrong in that place, everybody looked the same. And then out from all the confusion and chaos, came Ms Gulati (turns out she was Mrs Gulati). I had never known love like this before, I was 8. She seated herself at the table and opened out the register and called out our names. I was so lost in her musical voice that 45 names later I realized she hadn’t called out my name.
‘Anybody whose name I didn’t call out’, I came back to my senses.
‘Mine, miss’
‘ Oh I knew your name, you just looked a bit dazed, so I didn’t call it out’, and then she smiled.
Neal was sitting next to me, as I was the only one in the class sitting alone. He winked at me when he saw Ms Gulati’s smile.
I skipped home that day. Neal followed me all the way, for the first time I was totally ignoring him but he didn’t mind.
‘You got to learn to tie your shoe laces, your 9 now’, this was my paranoid mom and she rightfully was, I still didn’t know how to tie my shoe laces.
‘No cricket till you learn to tie your laces’.
Who wants to go? I thought. After all I was hardly ever involved in the game. After the sad and untimely demise of hide and seek, I was left on the side again. But I was still the best fielder and nobody could disagree on that.
Ms Gulati slowly began liking me, after all I was a good student. My math was still mediocre, especially when my Dad tried to teach me because now when he asked me a question I didn’t laugh anymore, I blushed, because I was thinking of Ms. Gulati now.
‘How much is 2*2?’ and my face would become red and so would my Dad’s but for entirely different reasons.
I was in the 2nd standard now and was chosen for the school play, by guess who. Yes your right, Ms.Gulati. She wanted me to play the role of a prince and my mom told me that princes were brave and handsome men.
‘So that’s what Ms.Gulati thinks of me’. But unfortunately Ms. Gulati had different plans. I was to play the prince in Sleeping Beauty, remember the same story where this gal sleeps of and this dude on a horse comes and kisses her and she then wakes up from her hangover, ya the same one. Well so I was the ‘dude’ but the problem was that the ‘gal’ too, was a dude (boys school, remember)
‘You don’t have to really kiss him, just make it look as if you are’, was Ms. Gulati’s solution.
So easy for her to say. Neal was having a good time laughing at me, he knew I was caught in this evil trap laid out by my very own love who had deceived me with her web of deceit and betrayal leaving me wondering, ‘How the &^%$ am I going to get out of this?.
Neal had an idea. I loved it.
The Annual Day of our school arrived, there was excitement, parents, food and lipstick on my face!! For heavens sake, I was the prince, wasn’t I supposed to look like a man, but as Ms. Gulati did the make up I didn’t complain. But I was going to take my revenge and it was going to be sweet. Ms. Gulati, Beware!!!
So our play finally started and my part was coming as I got onto my wooden horse on which I had to come. I had to get of it, kneel down in as chivalrous a manner I could and kiss the fair lady on her cheek. I did everything according to the script, I came on my wooden horse, many said that I looked like a prince out of a fairytale (the scary ones I think). Parked my horse beside my fair lady, got of the horse and as the narrator came to the kiss, I picked up the wooden horse, bent it low and placed it on the cheek of the princess and as the narrator stared in horror, the princess woke up to the loudest applause and laughter that hall had ever heard. I put the horse down and took a bow and ran of the stage with the horse ala Mask of Zorro style.
Back stage I basked in my new found glory with Neal for only a few minutes and then in came Ms. Gulati, anger all over her face. I had taken my revenge.
The next few days turned out to be the best of my life, the princess of the play, Vishal, loathed my existence and Ms. Gulati hated me, but I had got over her. Otherwise I was a hero for pulling of one of the bravest stunts in the history of the school. Even the seniors congratulated me. Neal seemed to have disappeared for a few days but as my popularity faded away Neal came back and so did my normal life. I was happy but I did miss the appreciation, it seemed like for the first time I was accepted. My parents began to think I had got over my problem but I was falling deeper into it. Neal was becoming a bigger part of my life and even though people now wanted to be my friends, I still preferred Neal because he always listened to me and I always agreed with him. I was 10 and growing fast.
EP was showing its symptoms again, I wanted to get out. It didn’t take long for me to get my medicine. Dad came home one day, ‘We have been posted to Bengdubi’.
‘Who’s Dubi?’, my sister asked.
‘The place’s name is Bengdubi, it’s an army cantonment near Siliguri.’
‘Now what the hell is Siliguri’, said my mom.
‘ The place is near Calcutta, in West Bengal, got it’. Dad walked out of the room in a huff.
I was ecstatic. Mom had already prepared herself for this. I looked at my sister to see if she had come out of her EP as we were now finally going but I saw something different, I saw tears. I didn’t understand this, nor did Neal. We were happy, a new place, another chance for me to try harder at making some new friends.
Everything was packed, we were ready to move, again. It was a rainy day when we got into our train to Delhi. As the rain pounded the train, I saw the tears in my sister’s eyes and then I came to know the reason as a group of her friends came to say bye to her. I never understood why she cried so much that day, it would take me a long time to understand. But for the time being I decided that if this was how having friends was going to be than I didn’t want to have anything to do with them. The rain subsided and so did my sisters tears as we got of at Delhi station.
it just got scarier
A democracy guarantees you certain privelleges and i believe one of its greatest components is secularism. the very reason that we can break away from religious dogmas makes living in India such a blessing.
i hope i could really mean what i said above..i wish that someday in the future somebody can say that. i know what i say is nothing new but when what you hear and believe stares you hard in the face, you shudder and realise that somethings will never change.
today i went to drop a friend of mine to the bus stop and on the way we stopped over to meet another friend. it was half past ten and the roads were empty. our friend who was waiting near his house walked up to us and told us to hurry things up. extremely surprised at his demeanour we asked him what was wrong and he reminded us that tomorrow was the 6th of december and when we didn't realise the significance of it. he enlightened us.
not wanting to push our luck, we moved away and i made my way back home. it was a short walk back home but the dark has never scared me like that before. i was ashamed at my fear because i knew it was unwarranted yet there was no escaping it. suddenly the same streets i walked everyday looked haunted and it felt like that there was something simmering at the bottom of it. the i realised that as an Indian i'm trained to prepare myself like this. a car passed me at breakneck speed and the orange flag flying atop it made me a greater believer in my fear. i know that i should think beyond everyday prejudices that we all go through but i'm no extraordinary mortal and i can't pretend to be one. few men passed by me but i felt the stench of hate. maybe they weren't even on the same wavelength but when you think of what is possible, it scares you to think that it can happen anytime.
as i reached my house, i swallowed a dose of relief and walked into my house aware of the fact that some years ago on this day many people could not feel as safe as me. its not just what happened on this day that scares me, its what all that has continued to happen since that day that really makes me wonder what the word 'secularism' really means to the everyday Indian. because i know that for a few moments in that walk i had lost my secularism. my fear proved it.
many of you will find out what the 6th of december signifies, many will know and many more will read it in the papers in the morning. but if you do none of the above and just ignore this day as just another day, then you will just make this country a little more secular.
i hope i could really mean what i said above..i wish that someday in the future somebody can say that. i know what i say is nothing new but when what you hear and believe stares you hard in the face, you shudder and realise that somethings will never change.
today i went to drop a friend of mine to the bus stop and on the way we stopped over to meet another friend. it was half past ten and the roads were empty. our friend who was waiting near his house walked up to us and told us to hurry things up. extremely surprised at his demeanour we asked him what was wrong and he reminded us that tomorrow was the 6th of december and when we didn't realise the significance of it. he enlightened us.
not wanting to push our luck, we moved away and i made my way back home. it was a short walk back home but the dark has never scared me like that before. i was ashamed at my fear because i knew it was unwarranted yet there was no escaping it. suddenly the same streets i walked everyday looked haunted and it felt like that there was something simmering at the bottom of it. the i realised that as an Indian i'm trained to prepare myself like this. a car passed me at breakneck speed and the orange flag flying atop it made me a greater believer in my fear. i know that i should think beyond everyday prejudices that we all go through but i'm no extraordinary mortal and i can't pretend to be one. few men passed by me but i felt the stench of hate. maybe they weren't even on the same wavelength but when you think of what is possible, it scares you to think that it can happen anytime.
as i reached my house, i swallowed a dose of relief and walked into my house aware of the fact that some years ago on this day many people could not feel as safe as me. its not just what happened on this day that scares me, its what all that has continued to happen since that day that really makes me wonder what the word 'secularism' really means to the everyday Indian. because i know that for a few moments in that walk i had lost my secularism. my fear proved it.
many of you will find out what the 6th of december signifies, many will know and many more will read it in the papers in the morning. but if you do none of the above and just ignore this day as just another day, then you will just make this country a little more secular.
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