How the Hell Do I Feel

Incident:

I’ve been walking for almost 3km now. I keep looking back at every single noise of a vehicle with hopes that it’s an Auto. Yes! I need an auto now and I need to get back home soon. It’s already half past 8 and pretty late for office. A few minutes pass by… Finally, an auto; I jump into it and come home; get ready and leave for the office. This is all I remember about my first day at the driving school. So, what happened before that?

Two Hour Before The Incident:

I’m all excited as I get into the maroon, old Tata Indica. Of course, I would have preferred a brand new Honda City to start with, but I guess it was asking for too much. I’m content that I’ve finally made it to here (after years of trying to convince myself to learn driving) and about to start my first day of my driving classes.

Alright, so I don’t get to drive first. I’m a little disappointed. I thought I will be the second, but I was wrong. Then I knew my moment had arrived. The driving master looked at me and urged me to get ready. My heart started beating just that little faster. I stood up and started to prepare myself for the next few minutes of driving. But, I was never prepared to see what happened.

Disaster!

I could not believe what I saw! The front wheel turned in the opposite direction to which it was being turned and then it broke free of the car! Damn, I’d never in my life imagined anything like that would happen to a car and definitely not to the car in which I was going to learn how to drive! The car leaned forward and rested gently on the axle. It was all over in a flash. My first day at the driving school just came crashing! The car had just welcomed me in the best possible way!

I then started the long walk back to home on a deserted road hoping that every single vehicle that passed by was an auto that could be hired and I would reach home quickly and leave that incident behind. It took 3km before I eventually came across one.

I just hope tomorrow won’t be as bad and at least get a chance to sit in the driver’s seat and hold the steering wheel!

Incident: I just finished putting up the 3 wall posters in my home. I took a step back to admire them and it looked impressive. Well, it wouldn’t have been looking so nice if I’d let out my instincts of bargaining.

Thought: Lucky me… I know for sure that if my mom got to know that I paid Rs.15 for a wall poster each, she’d have made up her mind that I just don’t understand the value of money. Sometimes, I doubt my understanding of money as well.

If there is one thing that I can’t bear of late, it’s bargaining. Thanks to all the videos of Russell Peters that I see in Youtube, I now strongly believe that bargaining is not a skill but show cast of one’s cheapness.

So here is what happened: It’s Sunday night and it was getting late. I was looking for some posters of God to put up in my place. I needed them desperately and had spent a lot of time searching. Finally, I found a roadside stall that was selling posters of all kind. Within few seconds, I chose three of them, and they were exactly the kind I was looking for. I asked the shop keeper to pack them for me. All I wanted to do was pay him and get back home. For whatever reason, I desperately needed the posters on my wall.

He rolled up the 3 posters, handed it over to me and said “45 rupees, sir.” I paid him the money. (Well, actually, I felt for a moment that it was a touch overpriced and my bargaining instincts kicked in. I held back – maybe I didn’t have the energy or maybe I didn’t have any options)

Surprise! He took back the posters and changed one of them. He uttered a few words and then rolled up the posters and handed it over to me. He said, “I was expecting you to bargain over the price. But, when you didn’t and paid the correct amount, I should be fair on my part and give you the good posters that match the money you gave. He then showed me the poster that he changed was a torn piece. So, if I had bargained, he would have given it to me at a lower price, but a torn poster. Now, I held three good quality posters in my hand.

Eureka! I just understood the value for money: Pay what they ask and get what you deserve. Mom! Aren’t you proud of me? I’ve finally learned it!

Oh, hold on! I think I know what she’d say. “Son, it was all God’s grace. The shop keeper didn’t want to cheat you with God’s posters. God is great and his tales continue… even today.”

The Move: I moved schools after 8th grade for two reasons – I couldn’t cope up with ICSE board syllabus and wanted to play cricket. This move was perhaps the most defining moment in my life and I attribute almost everything that I have today to the school I moved to – Stanes Higher Secondary School, Coonoor. 

The Beginning:  Luck was on my side. My to-be coach’s son was in the same class that I studied and hence just a month into the new school I started cricket practice with the School team.

The Practice Sessions:  Practice was very simple and organized. Our coach would set the field and would throw the ball from 18 yards and we had to play the ball – move you feet when you want to play the ball, hit the ball along the ground, run every time you hit the ball, and call every time you want to run. Add to that a few hours of ‘shadow practice’ and I was in the league of the other players in my school team. 

The First Disappointment:  I narrowly missed being selected for a tournament organized by Kris Srikanth. At first I felt disappointed but then realized I had a long way to go before getting in to the team. Then came the Summer Camp and formal cricket coaching. I learned cricket the right way with all the basics covered. 

The First Match:  I was the scorer (I continued to be the scorer for my club for over 2 seasons) and my team hardly managed 56 runs. I decided that day, that if I get to play for my school, I’ll ensure that my team plays all the 40 overs allotted to a side. We lost that match; it hurt me and I felt helpless. I wanted to change things and do it soon. 

My First Innings:  My first scoring shot was a leg-glance that went for a boundary. I was run out (yes, this is where the run out saga began!). I was furious but something from within told me, I will have my day. I managed to pick up 4 wickets in that game and we won it. Yay! I helped my school team win in my very first game. 

School & Districts & Club Matches: I remember the first time I made a big score. It was against Hebron School and I scored 48 runs. I followed it up with a 92 not out in the next game and I was set for the next stage. I was selected to the District team and failed miserably there. But, I came back and started flourishing in my Club matches. In a year’s time, I scored my first century and there was no looking back. 

The People: I’m thankful to cricket than to any one else in this world. I’ve learned more from cricket than I did through my entire schooling. The best part was the people I met when I played cricket. Some of the people I hold closest to my heart are those I’ve played cricket with. Most of the lessons I learned in life, came from the cricket field. 

The Lessons:  Patience, perseverance, practice, hard work, dedication, passion, integrity, sportsmanship, appreciation, and a lot more. But the greatest of them all – accepting defeat. There was a time when we lost so many matches, that losing didn’t hurt anymore. In a very subtle way, you start to enjoy your loses just as you would cherish your victories. And when you finally win, it doesn’t matter because you realize a game has a lot more than just winning or losing. 

Someone called me a loser. I know for sure that being a loser is not that bad at all. Losing teaches you more than any victory you’ve had. 

The Lows:  I had my share of bad luck from Cricket too. Well, I had to choose between my girl’s birthday party and a cricket match. Guess what? You are right! I chose Cricket and that put and end to the budding affection she had for me. I played a cricket match the day before my sister’s wedding and every single relative who attended the wedding scolded me just after they wished my sister good luck. 

I cried when India lost the semis to Sri Lanka in 1996. I cried a lot of times when India lost. I felt like i was on top of the world when India won the Sharjah Cup in Dubai. I still feel good when India wins. Just that it doesn’t matter to me any more when we lose; or even when I lose. I know for sure that I’ll get another chance in the next match and I”ll give it my best. 

I love cricket. Cricket and me are inseparable! I’ve gained a lot from Cricket and lost a few too, but I always knew it’ll be worth it!

Incident: I’m traveling in an auto to the Majestic terminal where I have a bus to catch for Hyderabad. I leave an hour and a half earlier just to cover a distance of 10km. Anyone who’s traveled in Bangalore would appreciate me for my foresight. 

The Conversation Begins: It was all my fault. I instigated the auto driver and asked him whether I would be able to catch my bus. That was enough for the ice to be broken!  

In a few seconds, the rapport is built and conversation goes to such an extent that I had to answer so many questions and listen to advices. Damn, I didn’t know whether to be proud or feel sick about it. A stranger knows everything about me and now tells me what I should be doing in my life. I’m sure India is the only place this can happen!  

The Questions:

·     Where are you working and how much are you earning?

·     What have you studied and how secure is your job? Did you company layoff people? Are you in the firing line anytime soon?

·     What have you done with the money you’ve earned in the three years?

·     What have you bought for your parents? Where do they live?  

Followed By The Advices:

·     You should save money for your retirement! (Damn, I’ve just started my career)

·     You should get married when you turn 27. (Why not 28 or 29? Why not this Feb 14 in Bangalore?)

·     You should help my son get a job in your office. (I gave it a serious thought! Forgot to get his son’s contact detail)  

Then, The Economic Crisis Explained:

Who so ever said that India is recession proof, it’s time to eat humble pie. Take a note India’s FM P.M. Here is the statement that defies all Indian Economists’ logic: 

“You will reach the bus terminal early as the traffic is low. Do you know why the roads are so empty at this time of the day? No, not because it’s a weekend. All IT and Call Center people used to work in the weekends too.”

“It’s all because of the ‘Economic Crisis.” You know, the companies are laying-off employees. Those who are still working don’t get cabs and food. Those who are getting food are not getting as much variety.”

“Because people are losing jobs, they are heading back to their hometown. The crowd is not there and there is no traffic. When crowd is not there, we don’t have business. It’s a bad time for us. Less traffic, so good time to ride; but no crowd, so bad time to ride. No money for them means no money for us”  

I listened in awe. From unsecured mortgages in US to auto drivers in Bangalore, it’s recession time!

There is a quote “The teacher appears when the student is ready.” I’ve realized in my life that this is one of the truest statements ever.  We keep learning in our lives and one person can never teach us everything that we have to understand as we grow older and wiser.

Then there are these stages in life when we have no time to learn new things. Suddenly, we find ample time to do anything we want and the craving to learn appears from nowhere. I was in one such mood a few months back.

One day, I was bored and didn’t feel like reading fiction or the boring Management books that I usually end up learning the same things repeatedly. My mind wanted something more that day so I look at my book shelf to find something that interests me. Books on advertising, marketing, and usability and magazines on auto, finance, and sports. I just didn’t want to pick up any.

Then somewhere in the middle, I found this thin monthly edition of Frozen Thoughts. It said ‘Experiencing the Experience’ and my mind said ‘Yes, this is what I want to read.’ I was ready and so was my teacher. The book appeared out of nowhere. It was given to me a couple of years back and just lay there unread. The time had come too.

I read the magazine. I kept reading it every morning. It gave me all that I wanted at the moment – inner peace, inspiration, and emotional support. I wanted to grow to the next level in my life in terms of living the right way and ‘Frozen Thoughts’ gave me that and a lot more.

I found their website. (I thought they wouldn’t be in business 6 years later!) I subscribed to their magazine. (Whoa! I’ve found it a struggle to subscribe to some Branded magazines online). The editions started coming (I read them religiously and learned something new every time I read it!)

My life has changed all of a sudden! Just when I was ready for it and the teacher appeared miraculously! Listen to your heart carefully. If you are ready to learn (no matter what it is) the teacher will appear.

Here’s the most important thing: The teacher does not necessarily have to be a person. It can be a book as in my case or even be a bird. 

The teacher will appear!

“I want to be there. I want to look at him. I wish I was there when he walked the first time.”

How many fathers in India would have said the exact words when they heard that their son or daughter walked for the first time without the help of someone? I’m sure every single man who’s living miles away from his children would have said it or felt it once in their life.

A few minutes back, I heard myself say “I wish I was there. I wish I could look at him. How I wish I could be there with him, when he drove his car for the first time.”  

For a man who spent most of his life saving money for his daughters wedding, this is perhaps the moment he’s be waiting to live for himself. It just took too long to come. He’s sixty but still going strong. Oh! How I wish I was there to see my father drive a car for the first time.

It’s a compromise you make in your life. I guess to give something to someone; you have to lose something of your own. So, in giving him his happiness, I’m here, far away compromising on the time I should be spending with him. May be, I’m losing my happiness by not seeing him right now.

I know how happy he’ll feel when he lies on his bed tonight and reflects on his day and life. A smile will cross his face. It’ll be gone just as fast at it appears. That’s the smile I’ve been waiting to see all these years. And when he smiles, I’ll feel it, even though I’m a thousand miles away from him.

Love you dad! Wish I could make you smile everyday, just like today. And yes, wish I could see you smile too…

I don’t want to sound shady about this. My blog went down and I lost all my data. It was a disaster thanks to the ignorance of my friend and me

I spent a few days trying to recover the lost data. That’s when I discovered that backing up of data is very useful.

I found a few of my posts safely stored in Google Docs and posted them again. Lost all your comments though

I lost interest in blogging and gave up on it. I did a lot of reading and even completed a course in Usability Analysis. Now, I can introduce my self as a ‘Certified Usability Analyst.’

The urge to blog came back when a few of my friends ask my why my blog went down and it was a quick reversal of interest.

Guess, I’m better equipped now. So here are some changes on my blog…

• The design is a little more user friendly that it used to be.
• Going forward, posts will be much simpler and easier to read. Hopefully, more engaging too.
• Have an increased interest to write about spirituality, sales, and crazier things that what I used to write about. I’ll keep it short!

For my returning readers: Thanks for your patience. Now, I’ve much better things to blog about.

For my new readers: Welcome! if you don’t find this blog good, I’m sure there are millions of better bloggers out there. If you find my posts too long, Twitter is the place for you.

Incident:

I’m on the stage and standing in front of 600 people. My heart is beating, not because I’m nervous, but of sheer excitement. This is the day I’ve been waiting for. The day I’ve been preparing for almost a month now. I couldn’t sleep well last night, and all I wanted at this moment was to get done with this presentation. Of course, I wished to the best of my ability.

Feeling:

Electrifying! And, why shouldn’t I? The last time I went on stage was when I was in school, almost 6 years ago. I had never addressed a crowd more than a couple of hundreds. Around 600, that’s crazy and definitely exciting.

I’m not sure if everyone would feel so elated standing in front of such a huge audience, but let me assure you-if you’ve been grilled to the extreme before being made to stand there, all you want to do is show the world how well you have prepared and how good you are at it.

Every single word, sentence, concept, and message had to be put across in exactly the way I was expected to. Boy! I did that and went a long way ahead…

The last I remember was stepping down from the stage and handing over the collar mike. The best few moments of my life got over too soon. All I knew was that it was a job well done. I hadn’t missed out on anything that I wanted to say and said it just the way I wanted to. More importantly, I didn’t repeat the same mistake I’d had throughout my life-not speaking well when it meant the most.

“Can you talk slowly and clearly?” said my sister.

“I can’t understand what you are trying to say” said my friend.

“Tell me clearly what you want to do with your life” said my dad.

“Explain why we should grant you this request” protested my developer.

“I’m sorry, your reason was not convincing” said my principal.

“Tell me why you love me?” asked my girl.

I probably didn’t speak well when all these questions were posed at me at various point of my life. In many ways, I’ve lost a lot of things by not getting the message across correctly.

Not this time! I knew I’d convinced every single person in the audience to do exactly what they were expected to do after the presentation. Damn, I don’t care what I’ve lost before by not speaking well, but I sure have learned from them, and leaped a thousand steps ahead!

Back in 1996, I was in my village. I rested my head on my grandfather’s chest as he watched the news. “A brilliant century on debut by Sourav Ganguly against England” said the news reader. Little did I know then, that this would be the man I’ll admire with my heart for all that he is and for what he did to the Indian Cricket.

A week later, I read about the debut innings in a ‘Sportstar’ magazine. I read the article again and again as I had nothing to do that afternoon. I cut the pictures and stuck them carefully over my bed. I liked his smile more than anything.

In the years that followed, he became a prince, tiger, God of the off-side, captain of the Indian team, and a lot more. For me, the biggest contribution was when he took India away from the dependence that they had on Sachin Tendulkar. After almost a few years, we Indians started to believe that India had other players who could be match winners.

I could just keep writing about Ganguly all night and would love to do just that, as I see the highlights of his century today against Australia. Ironically, he decided to call it quit a couple of weeks back. I adore him for all that he does and for what he stands for. Little does it matter to me whether he practices well or whether he refuses to carry water bottles or when he takes off his shirt to celebrate a victory or whether he plans to retire.

He has one of the biggest heart men have ever had in Cricket. What he has proved today with his 102 against Australia is that he’s still got the heart to fight against the best of the teams. Steve Waugh is one other man I admire for the same reason. Today, dada has gone one step ahead in my admiration for him.

In India, land where the heart rules, it is men like Sourav Ganguly who will continue to remain the prince and probably even the God of cricket. In his century today, I silently heard him say, “Just one last thing again lads. No matter how much disgrace you try to bring on me, I will drive you all away, just like I’ve driven over a thousand balls to the fence in the last 12 years!”

By the way, no one can erase the mark he’s made in the Indian cricket and to the millions of fans like me. So eat some dust Mr. ex-Coach and Mr. ex-Chairman of Selector…

Will miss you dada!

Three men have touched my life in their unique ways. I love them for what they are and enjoy the few minutes/hours I share with them every now and then.

Incident 1:

I saw him walk past me, stop, turn back and say, “How are you? It’s been a long time since we’ve met. How is your work going? If you ever need any help in Hyderabad, just give me a call. I’ll be there for you.” I smiled and told him I would. I meant it.

That’s Sattar bhai, the person who drove me safely to office everyday for more than a year and a half. How well I remember the moments we spent discussing a whole lot of things while driving to office.

Incident 2:

“It’ll be done by tomorrow morning,” he said. “Are you sure?” I responded in doubt. “Of course, just leave it to me. I’ll take care of it. Go back and take rest. Sleep well and come back tomorrow morning and it’ll be ready.” He put his hands on my shoulder and walked with me until the end of the street.

I knew I could trust him. He’s always done what he’s claimed to do and with perfection. I didn’t look back. Came home and slept without a moment of concern.

That’s Waheed bhai, the mechanic who has been taking care of my bike for over a year now. He takes care of my bike just like it was his. I remember that every time he’s assured me that my bike will be fine, he’s done just that. The small cups of tea we’ve had at his mechanic shop and the long discussions about bikes keeps lingering in my mind.

Incident 3:

I get off the lift in our apartment I’ve been living in for more than a year now. I see him standing there. All of a sudden, he walks up to me and gives me a big hug and that big smile of his, which I’ve grown accustomed to since I’ve been living here. It was his way of expressing his affection.

Not a word more. He gets in to the lift and goes.

That’s Murali, the watchman in my apartment. He doesn’t understand Hindi; I don’t understand Telugu except for the salutations. We never forget to wish each other every time we meet at the basement. It’s never been a word more than that.

Three men I’m proud to have met. Three very unique relationships I cherish…