It was to have been one of the happiest moments of my life. Fate however willed otherwise.
After many years I was to receive a performance linked incentive (PLI) or a bonus as some would call it. I got a sudden call on my cell phone from my boss wanting to see me urgently.
When I entered his room he was all smiles as he gave me a cheque saying that this was my PLI cheque. I saw the amount and could not help remarking “ This is a good amount”. I smiled back in appreciation and went back to my seat.
In a short time everything turned upside down. The news channels had started flashing the news of trains in Mumbai being bombed. It was July 11, 2006 and terrorists had bombed a number of trains in Mumbai. I huddled alongwith my colleagues and tried to catch the news. The tragedy was to eventually claim 187 lives –that of innocent people whose only crime was that they had boarded a train as they went about the daily business of earning a living.
It was soon time for me to respond to frantic phone calls from my home and assure every one that I was safe. I sat quite late in the office and left for home with another colleague who went by car. No trying to take the evening train for me on that day.
It was to have been one more addition in my cup of joy. Another piece of happiness to be added to a 14 month period when I had switched careers, become a father and bought a house. Alas, that wasn’t to be. The memory of the first substantial bonus cheque was forever marred by the tragedy that hit Mumbai on that day.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Cats, Mirrors and Raju
“This has never happened before,” Raju exclaimed as he surveyed the rear view mirror of his car in my hands.
All I had done was run my hand through the rear view mirror and presto it was in my hand. This put us in a piquant position. Rajus’s parents had gone to meet a doctor leaving both of us in the car. The immediate task was to restore the rear view mirror to its original position. Although Raju was no engineer, he managed to fix the mirror back before his parents came.
This is an enduring memory in a friendship that is over a quarter century old. Raju and I came into contact in 1981 when both of us joined the same college in Mumbai. In the first year we were mere acquaintances and realized that we had some common interests like a love of the English language. Acquaintance deepened into friendship in the second year It has continued to this day. Over the years, Raju went on to do his MBA and I went on to become a communications professional .
If in the previous instance I was the culprit, there have been times where Raju’s honorable ideas have clearly not lived up to their potential. Like the cat business for instance. A cat had strayed into one of the rooms of his ground floor flat and quite naturally, he wanted to evict it from his premises. How I got roped into the endeavour, I shall never comprehend. After a couple of abortive attempts I had to inform Raju that I could not assist him further in his endeavour. More so after one of the cat’s mews suspiciously sounded like the roar of another specimen of the cat family.
There were of course other lesser efforts which he roped me in. One of them was to place the order for the gas cylinder. Those were the days when piped gas was unavailable and cylinders were in short supply. One in fact had to remember a rather long number. I always managed to remember his gas number but not mine. So often did I find myself accompanying him for booking his cylinder.
On balance I must say that he has been a real friend who has been there for me every time I needed him. Raju is one of the very few persons who has managed to influence my life. I mean, convincing me to do things other than just chasing cats.
All I had done was run my hand through the rear view mirror and presto it was in my hand. This put us in a piquant position. Rajus’s parents had gone to meet a doctor leaving both of us in the car. The immediate task was to restore the rear view mirror to its original position. Although Raju was no engineer, he managed to fix the mirror back before his parents came.
This is an enduring memory in a friendship that is over a quarter century old. Raju and I came into contact in 1981 when both of us joined the same college in Mumbai. In the first year we were mere acquaintances and realized that we had some common interests like a love of the English language. Acquaintance deepened into friendship in the second year It has continued to this day. Over the years, Raju went on to do his MBA and I went on to become a communications professional .
If in the previous instance I was the culprit, there have been times where Raju’s honorable ideas have clearly not lived up to their potential. Like the cat business for instance. A cat had strayed into one of the rooms of his ground floor flat and quite naturally, he wanted to evict it from his premises. How I got roped into the endeavour, I shall never comprehend. After a couple of abortive attempts I had to inform Raju that I could not assist him further in his endeavour. More so after one of the cat’s mews suspiciously sounded like the roar of another specimen of the cat family.
There were of course other lesser efforts which he roped me in. One of them was to place the order for the gas cylinder. Those were the days when piped gas was unavailable and cylinders were in short supply. One in fact had to remember a rather long number. I always managed to remember his gas number but not mine. So often did I find myself accompanying him for booking his cylinder.
On balance I must say that he has been a real friend who has been there for me every time I needed him. Raju is one of the very few persons who has managed to influence my life. I mean, convincing me to do things other than just chasing cats.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
At The Temple
Sometime back, I went to the Balaji temple at Nerul in Navi Mumbai along with my family and some relatives.
As I closed my eyes in prayer I saw a child, perhaps three or four years old. What struck me about the child was a particular look in his eyes, perhaps a vacant look. As soon as I opened my eyes, I again saw the same child. I have seen enough of these looks to understand that the child had some kind of a mental problem.
I could not help feeling relieved at that point. My son Sanjiv who was two years old at that time was playing in the background with some relatives. My wife was praying. Suddenly my mind went back to the time when my wife was carrying my son. At that point, I was very apprehensive that my child to be born would have some mental deformity. There was no reason for me to think thus but I was totally apprehensive. I even contemplated doing some tests to ascertain whether this was indeed the case till my wife
put her foot down.
Suddenly I could not help feeling blessed in life. My son is a normal kid, my domestic life is good and my job is well pretty good too. What was I really complaining about? Here are persons in life who carry a cross not knowing what the destination is many times.
A few minutes earlier, I had seen another child around Sanjiv’s age with whom he was trying to get friendly. I could not help noticing that the child had a protruding belly-the result of malnutrition.
I suddenly realized that as I waited for the priest to open the curtains, that would help us glimpse the deity, that life is quite good after all. In a country of a billion people in which half the population lived below the poverty line cribbing about relatively minor professional and personal problems was tantamount to a crime if not a sin.
I realized then that life is not about the constant search for more but one had to practise contentment too. This alone would lead to happiness. As the priest rolled up the curtains, I bowed my head in thanksgiving to the lord. Perhaps such an important lesson could have been learnt only at a temple.
As I closed my eyes in prayer I saw a child, perhaps three or four years old. What struck me about the child was a particular look in his eyes, perhaps a vacant look. As soon as I opened my eyes, I again saw the same child. I have seen enough of these looks to understand that the child had some kind of a mental problem.
I could not help feeling relieved at that point. My son Sanjiv who was two years old at that time was playing in the background with some relatives. My wife was praying. Suddenly my mind went back to the time when my wife was carrying my son. At that point, I was very apprehensive that my child to be born would have some mental deformity. There was no reason for me to think thus but I was totally apprehensive. I even contemplated doing some tests to ascertain whether this was indeed the case till my wife
put her foot down.
Suddenly I could not help feeling blessed in life. My son is a normal kid, my domestic life is good and my job is well pretty good too. What was I really complaining about? Here are persons in life who carry a cross not knowing what the destination is many times.
A few minutes earlier, I had seen another child around Sanjiv’s age with whom he was trying to get friendly. I could not help noticing that the child had a protruding belly-the result of malnutrition.
I suddenly realized that as I waited for the priest to open the curtains, that would help us glimpse the deity, that life is quite good after all. In a country of a billion people in which half the population lived below the poverty line cribbing about relatively minor professional and personal problems was tantamount to a crime if not a sin.
I realized then that life is not about the constant search for more but one had to practise contentment too. This alone would lead to happiness. As the priest rolled up the curtains, I bowed my head in thanksgiving to the lord. Perhaps such an important lesson could have been learnt only at a temple.
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