Ladakh: The Land of High Passes

There is a saying in Ladakhi that roughly translates as ‘The land is so barren and the passes so high that only our fiercest enemies or our best friends would want to visit us’.

It’s only after you actually visit the land, do you fully realize it’s meaning truly. Ladakh is a cold dessert at an impossibly high altitude.

But if you look closer, you notice something more. You realize that Ladakh has really the soul of a chameleon. If you have an unbelievably high pass like the Khardong-la, you also get to soak in the beauty of quaint villages, laden with apricots and apples.  

You see a vast expanse of sand dunes at one end and yet, there are green pastures where sheep, horses, and yaks graze beside streams of fresh water.

You have to brave the cold of Chag-la pass to enjoy the serenity of  Pangong Lake. You have the strangeness of a moon like terrain (aptly called moonland), but also have gardens with vegetable patches and beautiful flowers. 

And then, you experience the warmth of Ladakh, when a bunch of giggling women dress you in Ladakhi attire and teach you their traditional dance. Or when a group of women monks invite you to sit with them for a quick chat. Or when ruddy cheeked kids wave at you as you pass by them. Or when the local people smile at you and say ‘ Julley’ ( that’s ‘hello’ in Ladakhi ).

You swell with pride when you see the awe inspiring Indian Army and even stop briefly to watch a volleyball match between 2 regiments. You chuckle as you read the witty safety slogans on milestones installed by the BRO. (e.g.: A little sip, a little slip, a hospital trip).

As you eat hot Maggie and sip aromatic Kawah in small dhabas, you wonder about the life of a Ladakhi, who must work all summer to prepare for the harsh winter when the land is covered in snow for months.

You climb the steps of many monasteries, gaze at the gazillion prayer flags and cross the numerous cairns alongside roads.

You hear the furious beating of the wind on the side of your tent when you go camping at Pangong, you feel the soft snowflakes of an unexpected snowfall at Chang-la, you bathe in the warm sunlight at Leh, you stargaze on a clear night at Hunder, you dip your feet in a refreshing stream at Sumur and you breath in the fresh air everywhere.

As you do all that, you realize Ladakh shared a piece of it’s beautiful soul with you. And for that, you are filled with gratitude.

Accent : Fake and otherwise !

I have heard so much about accents and (fake accents at that) in the past few days that I feel, I must add my two cents to this discussion!

I believe, an accent like a dressing sense is personal.

It can be flashy, fake or funny. Or annoying!!! One can put an accent to impress, to feel good, to fit in or simply because one can't really help it.  But all things said, it is a personal thing.  I’d rather focus on the words and thoughts behind those words rather than the accent.

And yes, playing the devil’s advocate – putting on a fake accent must be quite a Herculean task.

I would love to try the drawl of the Americans or the crispness of the British or the nasal vowel of the French or the sing-song way of the Chinese. I have tried a couple of combinations at appropriate and inappropriate occasions with desirable and disastrous results!

But truth be told, I am quite happy with the amalgamation of the Marathi-Punjabi-Kannada accents, I have acquired over the years. Combine that with the Indian nod and voila! You have a winner!

Project 3 : Toastmasters : Happy Birthday

Good morning to you,

Good morning to you,

Good morning, dear children,

Good morning to all

Does not sound quite right... Let me try this …

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday to You

Happy Birthday Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday to you !

No , I haven’t gone insane, not yet and for most of you here  who are looking at me with a half amused and half ‘ she’s gone bonkers look, here’s a question –How many of you have heard the song ‘ Happy Birthday to You ‘for the first time ? Can I see a show of hands ? None. Just as I thought.  Not surprising for according to the Guinness Book of World Records, "Happy Birthday to You" is the most recognized song in the English language.

So fellow Toastmasters and dear guests, for my project 3, I will like to throw some light this delightful little song that had for generations been a part of our culture and my project is suitably titled - Happy Birthday'

I believe Happy Birthday is a universal song it is indeed - It’s probably the only song common between an American toddler in New York , an African child in Nairobi , a Japanese teenager in Tokyo , a young adult in Dubai and an working professional in Bangalore ! There is no other song that binds us better than a Happy Birthday to You.  Like I mentioned earlier "Happy Birthday to You" is the most recognized song in the English language and the song’s base lyrics have been translated into at least 18 languages.

But did you ever wonder how did this song come into being? Let me share with you some history - remember the ‘Good Morning’ song I sang earlier ? Well, that my friends is forerunner to the Happy Birthday Song . The ‘Good Morning’ song was written and composed by 2 American sisters Patty and Mildred Hill in 1893. Patty was a kindergarten teacher in Kentucky and Mildred was a pianist and composer. The sisters created "Good Morning to All" as a song that would be easy to be sung by young children. The Hill Sisters' students enjoyed their teachers' version of "Good Morning to All" so much that they began spontaneously singing it at birthday parties, changing the lyrics to "Happy Birthday and that is how ‘Happy Birthday to You’ came into being.

Like all good songs,’ Happy Birthday to You' was copyrighted in 1935 by Summy Company, the publisher of ‘Good Morning to All’. A new company, Birch Tree Group Limited, was formed to protect and enforce the song's copyright. In 1998, the rights to Happy Birthday to You’ and its assets were sold to Time Warner - a great deal for Time Warner because  ‘Happy Birthday to You’ brings in approximately 2 million dollars in licensing revenue each year. Imagine that !

One of the most famous performances of ‘Happy Birthday to You’ was by Marilyn Monroe who sang it for who else - U.S. President John F. Kennedy in May 1962.

But my interest in the song is more sentimental than monetary or otherwise .For me it will always be the song that brings back the fun times I had with my friends, family, and colleagues!

A song that brings flashes of images of a scrawny kid in her mother’s arm drooling over a cake with pink and chocolate icing, while the rest of the children also drooling religiously sang this birthday anthem. Strangely the tune of the song lingered longer than the taste of the cake.

That fellow toastmasters and guests is my earliest memory associated with Happy Birthday, what’s yours? 

Reading a mockingbird

Presented this for my Project 2 at KTM

My speech today is something to do with Books and indeed 3 of my greatest passions after shopping are Reading, Travelling and Choreography. For my project 2, I will make a humble attempt to take you through one on my favorite books called ‘To kill a mocking bird’ by American author Harper Lee.

Mockingbird is a Pulitzer Prize winning novel by Harper Lee published in 1960 which is considered a classic modern American literature. The primary theme of Mockingbird is innocence or rather the loss of it and Harper uses a common American bird to symbolize innocence. The premise of the book is a black man’s struggle for justice and the society as seen through the eyes of an eight year old white girl called Scout.

The story takes place during the great depression in a small town called Maycomb in Alabama and is recalled by Scout who lives with her older brother Jem and widowed lawyer father Atticus. Life for them is a series of everyday childish adventure including shooting birds with air guns, a sport they enjoy but Atticus tells them to never shoot a mocking bird as it is does no harm but helps the farmers by eating insects on the crop. The kids are also fascinated and terrified of their reclusive neighbor called Radley whom no-one has ever seen for many years. Rumors of Radley being a mad man floats in the town , but Scout’s 2 elderly neighbors rubbish it saying he is an extremely shy and timid person who is scared of meeting people. Scout and Jem make schemes to get Radely or Boo as they call him to get out of the house but fail; however they do find little presents kept for them in the hollow of a tree, making them realize that Boo has noticed them..

In the meanwhile Atticus is appointed by the court to defend Tom Robinson, a 24 year old married black man accused of molesting a 19 year old white girl called Mayella Ewell, who is the daughter of the town drunkard Bob Ewell. This is at a time when racism was at its peak and the whole town is against Tom because he is black. However, Atticus, a principled man takes up the case and Scout and Jem face a lot of disapproval and taunts at school. During the trial as the story unfolds , Atticus establishes beyond doubt that Tom is innocent and that it was in fact Mayella a lonely and friendless young girl who tried to seduce Tom who in turn ran away , but was seen by her father who after beating her up accused Tom of the heinous crime to save face. But Justice is dethroned, when in spite of the evidence, the jury rules in favor of a drunk lying white man instead of an honest black man. Tom looses faith in the law and tries to escape from prison ad gets shot and killed in the process.
Interestingly, though the jury favored Bob the town knows that he is guilty and feeling humiliated Bob, vows revenge and attacks Scout and Jem with a kitchen knife as they return home from a Halloween play at school on a dark night. Jem’s arm is broken, but someone comes to their rescue and in the struggle Bob is stabbed. Their rescuer carries the unconscious Jem home and Scout realizes that their rescuer is in fact Boo Radely – their extremely shy neighbor. The sheriff is called in and even though he knows Boo stabbed Bob, he claims that Bob fell on his own knife to protect Boo. The novel ends with Scout sitting on her father’s lap as he reads to her in Jem’s room as she dozes off to sleep.
Fellow toastmasters - This is the story of how a mocking bird in the form of a black man was killed at one time and allowed to live at another time though the evidence of a sheriff.
As I conclude I’ll like to leave you with thought- Racism is not as obvious as it was in the Scout’s time and the law is unbiased today, but human nature is still the same. We still have mocking birds that live among us, birds that do not conform to the established norm, think differently and live differently - but birds that do no harm and the question you need to ask yourself at the end of the book is - Did I ever kill a Mockingbird?

Booking a cab in the silicon city , ain't no easy !

3 stupid things to do before breakfast on a Sunday morning? Well , while 2 of them are for private consumption , the 3^rd  one is a best practice - Do not make the mistake of using an unknown taxi service as opposed to an established one especially while booking it for others. I , for whatever oxymoronic reason decided to go with some greenhorn  firm called ‘Siliconcabs taxi service’ in the interest of helping the lesser known ones grow and well , the rest is an interesting blog post.

My saga began when I called ‘Siliconcabs taxi service ‘ fellas and booked an airport taxi for a couple of friends at 1.30 pm on a Sunday  and told the office to ask the driver to report at Koramangala Bus Depot at sharp 1.30 pm  . That done, I assumed things would fall in place as they are well supposed to in the transport and travel industry. But some things are not to be ! At 1.30 pm, I get a very confused call from a cabbie who asked me if he was needed at all and did I want him to come to Koramangala Bus Depot ? Our cabbie was apparently at Banneghetta road at the glorious hour of 1.30 pm when he ought to be in the by lanes of Koramangala and was very concerned if his services wAere required at all ! I am sure Banneghetta Road is a lovely place on a Sunday afternoon and hence our man’s reluctance to leave its majestic beauty for the humble Koramangala . Of course , with all my marketing spirit I told him that indeed his presence and his wonder cab was very much required and that was the basic premise of booking his cab after all, wasn’t it  ? Once clarity streamed in his mind , he promptly decided to tell me that while it was all good that I needed his cab at 1.30 , but there was no way he could come before 1.50 pm ( nothing like reminding a customer  who’s cab is it anyways !) .  Now a little desperate, I told him to come as soon as he could and could finally got the honor to behold his glorious countenance  at the blessed hour of 2.00 pm . He looked at me disdainfully and actually said this line that Kotler would have killed the agency for ‘It’s not my problem that I am late, it’s the traffic ‘ !

*Sigh *customer delight anyone! ? Moral of the story -  Call 080-6999-9998 and book Siliconcabs taxi services only if you want to spend Sunday afternoon writing a very frustrated blogpost . 

Colors of My Life

Wrote this for my icebreaker speech ( project 1) as a part of the Koramangala Toasmaster's Club . The objective of an icebreaker speech is to introduce yourself to the audience.

Many moon nights ago in a small town in Maharashtra called Solapur , a set of anxious parents nervously awaited the birth of their second child. Their first child was a healthy and happy boy and they obviously wanted the second one to be a girl. With a final painful cry, the mother pushed the baby into the world and the midwife and nurses eagerly crowded to see the child. The midwife suddenly drew back and exclaimed “Oh my God, it’s a monkey?' Figuratively of course, you see it was an underweight baby with bulging eyes, thin arms and legs and an inflated tummy that looked like a puffed up pulkha.


That monkey, my friends was me, Neha Shinde- a marketing professional , a voracious reader , a budding guitarist with no musical sense and a self proclaimed drama queen !


Though born in Sholapur, My father Dr. Shinde, a professor by profession, migrated to the sunny state of Punjab when I was in Kindergarten and it’s no surprise that everything bright and yellow reminds me of Ludhiana ad Punjab. Every year during our summer vacations my family, comprising of parents and brother and sister would journey to the western part of the country to meet our relatives and cousins. After a month of tremendous fun, I would eagerly look forward to return back to share my holiday experiences with my friends. After a train journey of a day and a night, the next morning would bring us closer to Punjab and I would realize, we were getting closer by the numerous bright yellow mustard and sunflower fields our train whizzed past. As yellow as well yellow can be, I watched these fields with childish joy that I realized home was near. And it was a happy thought.

When I was about thirteen, my father decided to go back to Maharashtra and we moved to a quaint little town called Miraj famous as they say for doctors and donkeys, sometimes referred to in the same vein. I lived there for about 2 years and lived in a beautiful missionary campus, which was as green and lush as the Garden of Eden. I remember the campus scattered with trees of Mango, Guava, Custard apple, Tamarind, Bamboo, and even sandal wood - and where there is sandalwood there are snakes, and it was in Miraj that I experienced two of my firsts in life- the first one was the sighting of a huge shiny black snake just 2 feet away from me on a narrow pathway and the other was realizing how trembling knees actually felt. But that naga naga did not dampen my enthusiasm of exploring the campus and whenever I think of Green, memories of Miraj come back to me.

As soon I started getting cozy in Miraj, we moved again to a town called Belgaum on the border of Karnataka & Maharashtra. Dad worked for JNMC and we lived in the staff quarters. So, whenever I think of white, I see flashes of white coats of the medical and dental students on campus. Even after my father thanks to his travelling itch, moved abroad when I was in my first year of BBA and I moved in to the college hostel, white always reminds me of the JNMC and its students.

Till the time I moved to Pune do my MBA and then to Bangalore for my job in Satyam, my favorite color was black. It still is, but it now shares the honor with Red. As a result I have more than half dozen black shirts and kurtas in my wardrobe that I don’t know what to do about.
But the color or colors that represents me most is not a black or a red, but the combination of 3 colors of saffron, white and green. You see, for many years because of my constant moving places, I had an identity crisis and wondered if I was a North Indian or a South Indian? Did I belong to the west or east? A few years ago I got my answer; I am a Marathi by birth, a Punjabi by nature, a Kannadiga by lifestyle and an Indian at heart!

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Neha Shinde- a marketing professional, a voracious reader, a budding guitarist with no musical sense, a self proclaimed drama queen and a proud Indian!

My airport story ..

So, I have a long history of almost meeting celebrities, those who have read my earlier posts will know what I mean. And so, as it is bound to happen, history repeated itself a couple of weeks ago at the Mumbai Domestic Airport.

I was returning back to Bangalore after a 3-day IT Expo and conference, tired and with a bit of a sore throat (it’s uncanny but every time I visit the city, I get this ailment). Anyways, I was dutifully like a good citizen standing in the security check line, when suddenly I spied a pretty lady in a simple black salwar kameez picking up a tiny pink suitcase and standing on the other side of the security check. She looked very familiar, but for the life of me I could not remember where I had seen her before. Was she a business associate I met at the conference, was she someone from Bangalore, was she from my organization? My brain was working furiously but I simply could not place her. I must have made her conscious with my snake-like staring, but she was pretty composed and was chatting amiable with the Jet Airways staff helping her with her luggage, while at the same time looking at me as if she was expecting me to come up to her and say hello, which I would have if only I could place her!

After our ‘staring competition’, I got my security check done and left the place without greeting the lady in black, who soon let the place with her male assistant wheeling her tiny pink suitcase.

It was only after entered a bookstore while waiting to board and picked up a magazine and saw a doe-eyed pretty face staring at me, did it finally dawn on me that I just missed saying hello to the very talented actress of Parineeta & Dirty Picture - Vidya Balan!

India Calling...

A good friend of mine, H called me up the other day and yelped excitedly "TD Jakes is considering coming to India and guess what it's all because of a tweet ( Well, he actually said a tweet and God's hand!).

For those who haven't heard of Bishop TD Jakes, well he's one of the better knows evangelists of today. Founder of The Potter's House , a motivational speaker and author. And my friend like so many others is a HUGE fan of his preaching and style , so much so that sometimes when he preaches, the TD Jakes style invariably sneaks in. But this post is not about TD Jakes or my friend or even about TD Jakes coming to India (though I am happy that he is).

This is about the power social media . To understand that we must get back to the TD Jakes story. Well, after H calmed down (which essentially meant started breathing again), he let me on what exactly happened. Shyju, his close friend had apparently posted a tweet on TD Jake’s profile about how his sermons had been a blessing to him. Surprisingly the Bishop replied saying he had no idea people in India knew about him and his sermons and what would be a good place to visit for a first-timer. Well, that got Shyju all excited and he created a post on his blog asking people to tweet on how TD Jakes had been a blessing to them and inviting him to India, which they did with enthusiasm. Well, that set the ball rolling and now things are now moving ahead!

It set me wondering, if it weren’t for the transparency and connectivity social media offers, how would a 25 year old greenhorn evangelist based in India interact with a 63 year old renowned preacher living in Texas. Social media is not only bringing people closer, it is more importantly empowering them. It’s no wonder celebrities, governments and other corporates are leveraging Social Media to function more efficiently. In fact Gartner predicts that by 2014, social networking services will replace e-mail as the primary vehicle for interpersonal communications for 20 percent of business users. I am not too sure how good this prediction stands, but it sure demonstrates the popularity Social Media carries.

So whether a Shyju reaches to a TD Jakes via twitter or a 13 year old amateur singer Rebecca Black reaches more than 15,000,000 listeners via YouTube, it’s a simple demonstration of the power Social Media can harness, a power that changes lives, changes people, changes destiny!

An enchanting evening with Leela

The weather gods have gone crazy ! Bangalore is damp and soggy with incessant rains and deserted roads , ruling out any outdoor rendezvous.

So, what better way to spend a rainy evening than with a steaming cup of chai and one of the most beautiful woman in the world . Time pass at its best !
As for the book, it makes an interesting read with tit bits from the leading lady’s life with a twist of irony and humour. Gives a glimpse into the charmed life of a legend that was Leela. I especially enjoyed the chapter - The British on a hunger strike in the land of the Mahatma ! Great insights in some pages too and an easy style of writing . Do read it if you get the chance .

The BIG Lesson

I have a new disgusting pass time! I watch Big Boss! Okay don’t be so judgmental, no one is perfect except Rajnikanth on screen! Yes, I am very ashamed to admit that I am addicted to this reality show and so is my flat mate, Deepthi.

Deepthi & I spend at least 30 minutes every day doing a post mortem of the show , with each giving in our opinion on each of the participants nature and behavior. To add to it all, Deepthi varies in her evaluation every day. On Monday she swears Rahul Bhat is the most genuine person on the show and on Wednesday she makes snide comments on his insensitivity. I too have been guilty of making contrary judgments on each participant.

Just set me thinking isn’t it strange how a certain incident changes our perspective and opinion. We tend to judge people by the last incident and experience. So a single good incident can wash out a series of negative actions and one single unconstructive action can undo a whole lot of good done earlier. So, essentially we are as good as our last behavior to strangers. Well, thank God for God, family & good friends who oversee the one odd faltering to continue to believe in the good in us.

If Big Boss has any lesson to teach, it’s that one should be not form opinions instantaneously! A lesson hard to learn but totally worth it!

So, with a lesson in my kitty, let the entertainment continue!!!!

Badlav - The Change

The poem below is written by a collegue and a friend who due to his modesty refuses to let me put his name on this blog , so let's just call him SG.

This poem owes its existence to a situation where another of our collegue was moving out of the company and was expressing a myriad of emotions he was experiencing. SG manages to capture these raw emotions and convert them into a fine poem that reflects the inevitable thing in life - Change !

So take a dekko at this beautiful poem 'Badlav'. Its in a JPEG format so you may experience a little difficulty in reading it. But it's worth the effort !

Clinic Casualties !

It's strange how sometimes you write a bit on something , then work and life takes precedence and you totally forgot about it. Here's another post I had written probably a couple of years ago.

The past 10 days have confined me to limited space (a single bed) , limited activities ( checking office mails/replying them and internet surfing) ,limited food ( soups, milk, soups, milk , eggs, khichidi , milk ) and unlimited medicines, thanks to a bacterial infection that caused havoc in Yours Truly’s body by way of fever,throat pain and severe cough !

My mysterious malady, bought me in touch with two of my greatest fears, the hypodermic syringe and extraction of blood!

Well, it so happened that since my adamant fever refused to come down , my doctor suggested a blood test to rule out typhoid and malaria , which was a very noble act except for the naked fact that I have an irrational fear for the syringe and the sight of blood makes me weak . Now couple the two and I have a problem that makes the Iraq bombing look like fluffy clouds.

But doctor's orders are like the ten commandments that have to be obeyed at any cost ! And so I dragged my heavy feet on a bright Friday morning to Appollo Clinic to accomplish this mammoth task. My sister tagged along for moral support , which was lower than the sensex on 'Black Tuesday' .

To begin with things went pretty smooth, the medical attendant seated me comfortably in a chair and then tied my arm with a band to tighten the nerves. Then he dabbed some spirit on my arm and that did it ! That pungent smell unleashed a wimpy & weird creature in me that comes alive in such medical situations. I am not proud of it but I think I outdid Rakhi Saawant with my hysterics. I tried everything under the sun to evade that dreaded injection, right from pretend-fainting bouts to bribing the medical attendant to intimidating him. But the man was unmoved while my sister quickly moved to the end of the room and pretended she was with not with me.

After much deliberation and discussions, we finally decided on a fool proof plan. The medical attendant would be as gentle as possible, my sister would sing ‘Amazing Grace’ and I would try and allow them to do their jobs. I tightly screwed my eyes close and said those magical 3 words ‘Let us begin’.

Well, the room was flooded with a beautiful stream of ‘Amazing Grace’ with some occasional off-key notes contributed by me in my attempt to distract myself. Finally, towards the end of ‘Was blind, but now I see’ I opened my eyes and saw that the job was done with the Attendant triumphantly holding a syringe full of dark red liquid that once ran freely through my veins.
We all looked at each other with a look that must have been on Neil Amstrong’s face when he landed on the moon! Well, the medical attendant also had a look of relief on his face!

Some people conquer nations and scale mountains, I ,on the other hand braved the terrors of a clinic and returned shaken but wise ! Okay, I was exaggerating about the wise part !

So the next time you visit your doctor’s clinic remember Yours Truly and her brave exploits! And if it's Appollo Clinic, you might not want to mention me. I am not exactly popular there !!!

IPL

Wrote this bit long ago. Found it while 'spring cleaning' my computer . I am a firm believer that a piece of lace and an article written should not be wasted. So here you go..

IPL is everywhere!

I am not into cricket so you can understand my predicament!

I shudder at the word. I open the newspaper and there it is in big bold letters, I switch on the television and every news channel seems to be covering it. I turn to my friends for conversation and all they talk about is IPL.

I fail to understand this obsession with IPL or cricket for that matter! As if that were not enough there comes more confusion on the Tharoor controversy which I am trying to follow.

Don’t our hard working, tax paying and corruption bearing countrymen have better things to do? The Sania-Sohaib saga was a refreshing respite from this cricket mania, but now that Sania, Sohaib and Ayesha are appeased, its back to boring !

Well, I did try to get a hang of it but the whole thing was too complicated for me to understand. So I sought the help of some cricket-buff friends of mine to get some aid in understanding the whole IPL thingie.

So the next time I met them at Barista and the conversation went crickety as it was bound to happen, I said ‘I don’t know why Modi is so upset about the whole thing, I mean Gujarat doesn’t even have a team. Right?’

TK & HK, the 2 cricket buffs I unfortunately got as friends looked at me blankly.

Looking at their puzzled faces, I elaborated,” I mean, what does Narendra Modi have against Sashi Tharoor ? Neither of them are cricketers. Why are they fighting?”

HJ nearly choked over his cafe latte and TK looked at me with a mixture of disgust and amazement. In fact, the couple next to us stared pointedly at me and then at each other in disbelief and the waiter looked at me with scientific interest.

Through it all I patiently waited for an answer.

“You idiot, its not the Gujarat CM is Lalit Modi” Spluttered TK as droplets of Swiss Mocha Frappe spotted the table.

"Oh, okay, what’s the big deal ? A Modi is a Modi- bound to create trouble whether its cricket or politics" I retorted feeling a little silly , especially since the waiter was now retelling my gaffe to his peers.

I suddenly felt like the Maroon Leaf Monkey at Bannerghatta National Park, except that the monkey gets free food and I had to pay for food and humiliation.

So much for trying to understand the gentleman’s game. *Sigh *.

Lesson Learnt? – More of ESPN and less of CNN.

And then..

(I wrote this bit for a 'complete the story' contest conducted by Yours Truly . The part in blue is the starting given for completion. It doesn't have a title but I call it 'and then' for want of a better title )

It was raining heavily, pouring down a welcome respite from the heat of the past week. Huddled under the small over crowded bus stand, I was waiting for the rain to let up so I could walk back to work when suddenly out of nowhere she came to me and then looked at me shyly. It isn’t often that somebody looks at me that way. Her damp soft brown hair glittered in the streetlight and her brownish grey eyes were soft and mellow. I wondered what such a pretty thing was doing at 9.00 pm in the night. She looked from a decent family. “Maybe it’s the rain”, I thought bitterly,” Brings out the best and worst in everyone. That’s why I am working this late in the evening, when I ought to be at home eating hot soup, all thanks to my manager”

My eyebrows contracted into a frown as I thought of my work place. Demanding, unappreciative and crazy to say the least. And then there was this particularly difficult project. “That’s the way the cookie crumbles, I guess” I sighed resignedly.

Pulling myself out of my sour reverie, I turned to look at her and my troubled face softened and I broke into a half smile, not sure of her reaction. She looked again; hesitantly and then slowly inched timidly towards me a little unsure, a little scared. The guy next to me suddenly spied her and turned to me and whispered “she’s beautiful, isn’t she?’. I felt a pang of jealousy, why should he look at her? I was the first one to notice her, wasn’t I and besides we already had a connection albeit a faint one.

I grunted and shifted my attention back to her, desperately hoping she would not lose interest in me. This time, I gave her a broad grin and in my sweetest voice crooned.” Hellooooooo”. She looked again this time more confidently and skipped close to me and whimpered a weak “meaooow” and then curling around my feet a stronger ‘meaoow’. I bend down and picked that ball of pretty golden brown fur and stroked it softly forgetting all the grouse and grumpiness of the day in that moment of sweetness.

‘My name is Kira and I live in the big red bungalow, next to the bus stop’, said the name tag around her neck.

“Yes Kira, the rain brings out the best and worst in people”, I thought and smiled to myself as I made my way to the bungalow to reunite its beautiful occupant.

Copyright (c) 2010 Neha

To Mom , With Love

As the world celebrates Mother’s Day, I get nostalgic about all that has passed in life and how my mom has been an integral part of it all.

So here’s a little post dedicated to my mom on Mothers Day.

The first word that comes to my mind when I think of my mom is ‘Enthusiastic’. She is probably one of the most enthusiastic people I have come across. Be it cooking a new recipe, or acting in a church play or planning a family meet for our geographically scattered family, I have seen her go about it with an enthusiasm that can be only matched by a child.

While growing up she was the force of discipline for me and my siblings. A firm believer of the ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’ philosophy, my brother and I were subject to several well deserved beatings while we were growing up. My sister, being born several years later was spared most of the spanking though there was the occasional rap on the knuckles. And today I am thankful to her for all the values she gave me which have been a guiding light to me in my journey of life.

But she is not all about discipline, she loves a good laugh and quite frankly quite filmy about things. She has some situational song always on her lips which annoys me to no end. Talking about singing, that’s something she never quite mastered, though she won’t admit it. I remember an instance when I was in junior college , my mom suddenly developed this craze to learn singing and would have her practice (riyaz). Once during her ‘riyaz’ I got a phone call from a friend, who after a few seconds asked “Who’s that screaming in the background ?’. Needless to say such uncharitable comments had no impact on the ‘Riyaz’ which continued in full swing.

As a child I was very shy, unobtrusive and retreating. But my mother through her constant preaching and nagging pulled me out of my shell and made me participate in activities and if today I have a lot of achievements and trophies in my kitty, I’d like to think mom had something to do with it.

But the greatest thing, I shall be eternally grateful to her is the faith she instilled in me. She taught me how not to ever give up on a God that never fails. And many times when I am disappointed with things and people, I often think of what my mom says. ‘He’s your Heavenly Father and He is better that your earthly parents. Talk to Him and tell Him everything.’ And whenever I do that I find my answers and peace!

So here’s wishing Happy Mother’s Day to one of the most wonderful, beautiful and unique mother in the world.

I LOVE YOU MAMMA!

The Shoania Saga !

‘So, Sania decided to walk into the sunset with Shoaib ! Big deal’, I thought as I folded the newspaper, drained my cup of coffee and headed for work.

Big deal. Two of the biggest understated words of the month if not the year. Turns out it was a big deal going by the reactions far and wide.

Pakistan welcomed it, India hated it, Ayesha complicated it, Shehrbano Rehman exploited it for her health ministry, NDTV debated it and Bal Thackeray, well he acted his usual self by condemning it just like he did North India, Sachin Tendulkar and the rest of the world.

Who would have thought a marriage would elicit so much response and emotion. Everyone from socialites to IT professional to panwalla and dhobis had their opinion on this.

A typical conversation with a group of friends went like this :

‘How dare she marry a Pakistani, Any one would have been ok but not a Pakistani’ said a friend who has a thing against our northern neighbor.

Another young male friend wistfully said” I mean couldn’t she find one guy in the whole of India? “
“I think she just used India and our facilities for her gain “roared a kurta clad patriotic friend.
A female friend spitefully said “I think she is overrated, I mean she only looks glamorous, she can’t really play you know?”

When I meekly mentioned she did win a couple of grand slams, I was given a piecing look that said ‘whose side are you on?’

Well, I am on the side that says ‘I DON”T CARE ‘.

Who cares whom she married and where she wants to stay, as long it’s not in my flat.

I think sometimes we appoint ourselves advocates and advisors to public personalities give a dozen advices on what should they ought to do.

I say, let it be, credit them with some freedom to take their own personal decisions.

Let them get on with their life and let’s get along with ours however glamous devoid it is !

It’s simpler that way, aint’t it?

Social Networking – The New Mantra!

( Wrote this bit for my corporate blog.. Its pretty simple and small)

A few years ago while I was still in business school ,I read an interesting snippet in the Times of India of how a businessman in Mumbai fell into a manhole and was rescued by a young woman. The businessman rushed off without as much as a word of thanks ,much to the surprise and indignation of those around. He later returned and profusely thanked his rescuer and explained the reason for his morning rush was that it was the last day to register for the Tata Yellow pages and he did not want to miss it.

Tata Yellow pages sure had its ‘fan list’ then!

Today, Facebook & Twitter is what Yellow Pages was to the numerous small and big business enterprises across the globe.

Social Networking is the new mantra! And there is no two ways about it.

An increasing number of businesses across industries are awakening to this indisputable fact. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that Social Networking as a business tool is past the initial teething problems and is in the growth stage in the Product Life Cycle.

A few interesting statistics to highlight my point:-
• 50 million non-college attendees use Facebook
• The professional social networking site LinkedIn grew 187% over the past year
• 85% of business owners participating in social media for business are doing so by way of blogging online
• 85% of social media users believe companies should interact with their consumers through social media outlets
• Six out of 10 Americans who use social media interact with companies on social media Web sites

Social Networking has made its presence in every facet of today’s organization. From branding & advertising to recruitment to relationship building, organizations actively use social networking as a strategic tool. In fact, I won’t be too surprised if companies soon start ‘tweeting’ their RFP & RFI. What started as a small internally focused initiative has now blown into a world-wide phenomenon that has changed the way we do business.

Like science-fiction writer William Gibson once said ‘The Future is here‘ Indeed the future of business interaction has arrived. And How!

When Rahul got married !

I have been disowned by my close friends! Mercilessly and ruthlessly disowned! And why ? Thou asketh... Well, in a moment of weakness I confessed to have followed the Swayambar of Rahul Mahajan!

Yes, I am ashamed and very ashamed too at the fact that I have religiously watched the Swayambar.

I personally blame Ekta Kapoor for this. I mean, why couldn’t she air more masaledar saas-bahu serials that would have prevented me from watching this self degrading program.

Anyways, it started with curiosity. When, I heard Rahul Mahajan (hereby referred to as RM) was planning a Swayambar, I was sure the applicants list wouldn’t cross 2 which included a certain Monica and Payal. However, the fact that there were a whooping 14,000 applicants made me sit up and take notice.

What boggled me is, why would anyone want to marry Rahul Mahajan in the first place? Weren’t there better ways of suffering and to top it all why do it on TV? I mean if you wanted to make a fool of yourself there were the numerous other ways- joining the MNS included.

Anyways, with such misgivings I started watching the swayambar and I must confess after its initial disappointment (it’s no match to the Rakhi Saawant swayambar) it’s a good evening time pass.

It’s both pathetic as well as hilarious watching these clueless women pretending to be head over heels in love with RM and even still funnier to watch RM trying to make conversation.

Something he never learnt in his entire 34 years of existence. And when he laughs his moronic laughter, you want to record it and use it for your next horror play.

I especially liked the episode of the elimination of one girl called Priyadarshini. I laughed my head off when I watched her exit interview. She glared into the camera with a fury which only a woman scorned can have and declared passionately “Rahul Mahajan, zindigi bhar mein kisi mard se pyar nahi kroongi” My roomie, for the first time probably understood the meaning of ROFL.

Anyways, amid the speculations of whether RM would actually marry someone or leave it at a Swayambar, he finally married the drama queen from Bengal, Dimpy Ganguly and put an evening of our entertainment to end!

Thanks Rahul Mahajan for all the entertainment and hope to see you on Emotional Atyachar soon!

Angry Kya ?!

‘There’s been a bomb blast in Koregaon Park’ informed my flat mate as soon as I reached home after a day of gallivanting with friends on February 13th.

After a moment of shocked disbelief, I frantically called my sister and a few friends to make sure they were okay. After quelling my fears, I sat down to watch the news on CNN-IBN. Watched the mangled bodies being ambulanced away, heard the groans of the injured, observed the damage, listened to the news reporters give an update and wondered …

Wondered... Not the usual question on everybody’s mind- “what do these terrorists get out of murdering innocent people?” No, I had long passed that one. What I wondered was, why is that after ensuring the safety of our dear ones ,a bomb blast invariably becomes a news item to be discussed at the lunch table the next day at work and then later archived as a ‘Oh yes, I know about that incident’?

The 9 people who died in the blast were loved and cherished by someone. We look at them as some foreigners who died in a faraway land, but there were some people halfway across the world that were waiting for their return anxiously.

I believe, we are as much to blame about such incidents as those brain-washed violence loving terrorists.

In my MBA course, we had a subject called ‘Business Ethics’ taught by a very old but very flamboyant professor. During one class he remarked, ‘there is too much anger in the world.’ And I begged to differ. I believe there is too less righteous anger in the world and that’s the reason we have to deal with such problems. What we have instead is half-baked, self–centered, selfish disapproval that passes off as anger.

I’d like to think it was Mahatma Gandhi’s righteous anger that made him resent the unfair treatment meted out to Indians in South Africa. It was Mandela’s righteous anger that made him protest against apartheid. Martin Luther king was angry enough to dream about a world where people will not be judged by their color but by their character.

And one thing I am sure of - when Righteous Anger rises, it purges out evil...bomb blasts included... Time to get a little angry... ? !

The Road Less Travelled….( My Yours Truly Theater workshop experience)

Wrote this bit for my theater workshop testimony ..Since my blog was not updated since ages decided to break the silence with this one... Yours Truly theater is a great place to be .... check out the link to know more (http://www.yourstruly-theatre.com/)

How do you answer the audition question, ‘What’s the most unconventional thing you have done?’
I scan my brain and wonder if ‘sleep walking through my weekly review meetings ‘made a suitable answer, then realized they meant unconventional not regular.

Finally I mumble,’ I am in a choir’

I get a few blank looks (accompanied by some furious thinking behind that blank look that said ‘Huh? ‘)

Surprisingly I made it through .I should have known better….

YT is all about being unconventional!

So, whether it’s a dignified IT professional depicting a cow dung or a bank employee exploring the evolution of a bird or an engineering student acting as a jewel thief (no, not the Dev Anand variety- Just FYI, film references are frowned upon here. This is pure unadulterated THEATER), there is eccentricity in everything.

I have always wondered, what’s it about theater performers that makes them different from the zillion other actors we see on TV or the silver screen. At YT, I found my answer in a single word ‘Passion’.

It’s great to see people with undiluted passion for acting combined with a desire to do something different.

At YT, I learnt it’s not about ability but availability and humility, which is a great way for any workshop to function. So, even if I were the worst actor on stage, (A poll across the batch might just confirm my claims), I still had folks telling me I did great.

It’s about having fun, about quelling your embarrassment of looking silly and most importantly about unlocking yourself. It’s about getting back to that place where making funny noises and faces was still cool.

It’s about being yourself!

When great ideas, great people and unparalleled passion cross roads – something’s bound to happen!

And like Robert Frost my favorite poet one said I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference!