The Rocking Chair

We used to call her Pabbi , a name whose origin I didn’t know and neither did she. We called her that, well because everyone else did and so did we and moreover we didn’t know better. To the world she was just another octogenarian who spend most of her day sitting in her rocking chair on the veranda. But to me she was a “grand” – mother who had given me love of both a grandmother and mother.
Being a motherless child, she was the only source of love that exists between a child and his mother for me.My mother passed away in childbirth before I could even place her image in my mind, before I could even open my eyes to gaze at her and it was Pabbi who had taken care of me since I was a toddler feeding me, cleaning up after me, putting me to sleep and of course telling me all those bed time stories. She had come to stay with us soon after my mother passed away as there was no one to take care of me. People used to say that she would have looked exactly like my mother at her young age, well I guess she must have after all I had no living proof to refute that claim.

My father’s job made him travel across the country throughout the year and the frequency of his travel increased more after my mother’s death. I believe he wanted to keep himself preoccupied with work, somehow he never got over the loss of his wife. Friends and family had suggested that he remarry but he had brushed the idea away. I always felt a distance between us. It seemed to me as if he held me responsible for the untimely death of his loved one. So during my childhood instead of sitting on my father’s shoulder I got to sit in Pabbi’s lap, instead of playing sports with my father , I used to make that angel of a women fetch the football after I had kicked it without realizing the pain that she would be enduring with those arthritis ridden knees. Well in my defense all I can say is at that tender age I was not aware of the cruelties of old age and thus found it surprising when I found her out of breath within 5 minutes of playing with me.

The feature I liked most about her were her eyes, there was something enigmatic about them that made them seem so young and full of energy on that wrinkled and chubby face of hers. Their was a mystifying twinkle in them that I really can’t put in words. They looked so pious and placid and at the same time mysterious as if they carried some deep secrets of the era gone by. And then there was her smile, most natural and refreshing one that I have ever come across my life. It was as if god had permanently fixed that smile there like in the case of “bottle nosed dolphin”. In all those years I spent with her I had never seen her angry or upset and had never seen the tranquility of her smile disappear from her face.

Loquacity being a common trait in both of us, we used to loose track of time during our sessions and many a times they stretched even after midnight. She didn’t use to tell me childish stories about a lion and a mouse but about historical events, historical facts, things of the past, events and experiences of her life, pre independence era, the things that she had seen and witnessed with those hypnotic eyes of hers. She was the one who had sown the seeds for my interest in History at a very young age which later on helped me pursue my career in it. So since my childhood I had developed a great appetite for knowledge in whatever form it came and when most kids used to run away from studies I relished the whole experience of it.

She was a bit hit with all my friends in the neighborhood and this usually resulted in a house packed with screaming kids who just jumping here and there. Such was her charisma that even at her age we found a compatriot in her; such was her ability to gel with younger, mischievous minds. Some came to play with her, some to devour her cooking, which I must confess were truly heavenly. She was an instrument of sport amongst the kids of my neighborhood with girls doing her plait, putting kajal or some make up on her. The absence of a strict elder in my house made it a perfect get away for all the kids and the spacious surroundings and garden gave ample space to play around. So my house was the den of the neighborhood which made me feel important. Little did we care in those times about the mess we created and about the person who had to clean up after us. She was a part of most of our games and frolics that did not involve her to get up from her rocking chair.


It was one sunny Sunday afternoon many moons ago the events of which have left such a mark on me that I have a very vivid memory of that eventful day. Being a holiday me and my friends were playing hide and seek in and around my house. The ample foliage, trees and my old British raj bungalow provided plenty of places for us to hide and we made the most of it. While we kids were amok, Pabbi was sitting docilely on her rocking chair with a rosary in one of her hands.

It was my turn to seek and I was going about checking the usual places where my friends usually hid. I was having trouble finding my friends so I thought of cheating, which I at times did and which incidentally was not difficult for me as I had my spy planted on the veranda who usually saw and thus knew where the kids were hiding. Yes, Pabbi had many a times helped me whenever it was my turn to seek. As I could not ask her aloud we had devised a code, all I did was look at her and tilt my head upwards and the direction in which she turned her head would give me a clue about the hiding place of my partners. We had also devised some hand signs for the common hiding spots.
It had taken me lot of coaxing to convince her to be a part of my ploy but in the end my persistence had won me an ally.

This time too I thought of making use of my asset in disguise and so I nonchalantly walked towards her and to make my move. She was sitting calmly in her chair and staring at a distance. I whistled in a low tone to attract her attention, No response! This did not surprise me as she was in a habit of sleeping with hr eyes open. Now what to do I thought, I could not openly call out for her help. So, I casually called out to her to ask her the time, even though I knew she was wearing her wristwatch but I just wanted. to awaken her. When even that did not arose her from her siesta I thought of letting it go and went on to look for my friends alone. After some initial success I was soon tagged by one of my friends and so lost. As it was getting pretty late in the afternoon we all thought of calling it quits and heading to our respective homes for lunch.
So I walked back to mine with a swollen face so as to confront Pabbi for not helping me.
She was still sound asleep, I walked towards her to wake her up. As soon I touched her face the coldness of her flesh sent a chill to my spine. I knew something was wrong, out of instinct I put my ear to her heart as I had playfully done many a time to listen to the rhythm of her heart beat. But today I was greeted by an eerie silence. I shouted and ran back, I don’t know why, perhaps I was afraid, afraid of loosing the one that I loved the most in this world, perhaps my little mind sensed that something was not right I really don’t know but I just ran.

I turned back to look at her before crossing over to our neighbor’s yard and saw the smile still there, the twinkle still present and the chair still rocking.

Working with a start up

Working with a start up
As an aspiring MBA, I had always dreamt that as a MBA grad my first job would be in a big MNC, a plush office, a laptop, a blackberry, onsite visits, a P.A(Ok! That might have been over imagination) but rest all was well within my limits and capabilities. But as destiny would have it, the final placements in my college coincided with the global meltdown resulting in cancellation/ reluctance on the part of recruiters/firms to come for campus placements. Although banks across the world collapsed and became evanescent they still formed the major chunk on companies that came and the IT sector which was my sector of choice remained quite elusive till the end keeping me high and dry till the very end of placement season.
Being stubborn bastard (comes naturally to Leo’s) and my aversion to BFSI I finally landed in a situation when just one month of college was left and I had no job in hand. This is when I decided to take a plunge, lower my expectations about a big firm and a big fat cheque and decided to join a any firm that came my way, although I still didn’t want to compromise on the sector.
So I joined a small company which was primarily into Engineering services (CAD, CAM, CAE etc) and a little bit into software domain also. After my interview in the company my mind was in quite a dubious state, due to lack of infrastructure and professionalism in the part of my future employer. Well what I mean by lack of infrastructure is – a rented bungalow, 10 PC’(with an inch of dust on each,2 dessert cooler, 10 employees,people removing their footwear outside the door etcetera, I guess have conveyed a fairly good picture in the readers mind.
It was nothing like the company of my dreams and nor of my nightmares. At the same time after the talks with the directors who were employed with a TATA motors my imagination was running amok, they had explained me what the company did and also about some of the big projects they had done for a couple of OEM’s and had offered me the post of Marketing Head. So I would be the one who would be responsible for entire marketing/sales related activities (lead generation, presales, sales, account management, marketing communication etc etc!) and in turn was indirectly responsible for running the company. Also I also had a stake in terms of percentage in whatever revenue I got for the company.
A normal person in my state would after considering the dilapidated state of the company would have made up his mind instantly as to not join the company. But that night my mind was thinking in the entirely different direction it was filled with thoughts of how I would transform the company, changes I would incorporate, this and that, I already had imagined that once I get the company up and running smoothly, I’ll invest my capital in it and take up a stake in it ask them to shift to a better location and blah blah., I could see myself meeting with CIO’s across US and Europe. So basically without even moving a muscle I had imagined myself to be a CEO/MD in an upcoming IT firm. Wow so much for the efforts of Narayan Mutrhy, I would be the next big CEO in IT. Talk about fool’s paradise, I was actually settled in that paradise with my imagination giving me food for thoughts. When I think about that night and the subsequent one’s I think of hat a big fool I was and actually: what the hell was I thinking? I have only just shared few of the thoughts running around my mind that night as to what all I was thinking till 4 in the morning even I do not recollect, all I know is that was pretty fool hardy.
With this beautiful picture in mind I sent a confirmation mail to the HR stating my willingness to join “my future” company. Little did I know things aren’t that easy in life and that the reality is way different from day dreams and a fool’s imaginative thoughts.
Well I was with this firm for exactly 2.5 months (Cough! Cough!), so much for the Rembrandt in my mind. In the initial month I actually thought that I could make a difference and did work diligently with whole honesty. It must be kept in mind I had absolutely no guidance from any one else what so ever and whatever efforts I made were my own, be it approaching other people who had knowledge in this matter, blogging heavily on LinkedIn, attending conferences on start ups and much more things. When I look back at what all means I used to get the business it actually embarrasses me, to have done so many menial things during the course of my stay there.
I totally accept that I failed in that job big time and I actually didn’t work much after the initial month. I didn’t use to go to office, use to say I am on filed and use to cut corners in whatever way I could, didn’t use report to my superiors at all. And finally it happened, they had to let me go as a company of their size and in dire states could not afford to keep a non performing asset.
The question is, why did I fail? I know it is always easier to blame others but in my case I actually had others the blame that’s the founders of my company.
1. One day they wanted me to sell one of their software products which in all terms was a cheap rip from an open source code without actually giving me a proper training on the same. They had no marketing plan, cost plan, feature plan, or any god dam things. They made a brochure after I gave them the material. They thought that with their “wonderful” product I will just approach the clients and they will hug me saying “we were waiting for you for so long”. Sorry that is not how the market was, it was filled with competitors with better products better strategy and better everything.
2. The next day they wanted me to run around the auto ancillaries and get some projects from them.
3. The third day they wanted me to find buyers for one of the products whose reseller ship they had taken.
4. The fourth day they wanted mw to get some web development or application development software projects. When they did not have a single person in their team who had a little bit knowledge of how a code is written, most of them just worked here as the company was near their home and they were so bad that no one else would have wanted them.
5. The company didn’t even have a god damm decent functional website, a 10’th grade with a knowledge of HTML could build a better website than theirs. I had to actually give them the links of some reference websites to develop a better website for the company.
To summarize they had no strategy, no technological expertise, no functional expertise no infrastructure no plan no nothing and on the top of that they did not wish to spend a single penny on anything to boost their sales or to explore some new horizons. So heir motto was “No investment, only returns”.
I know I am cribbing a lot here but every word of what I wrote above is true and theses are only few of the things highlighting their in competencies. Twice it happened when some how I had got them a project and these losers could not even deliver. When I had a requirement for an immediate proposal to be send to client they took their merry time to respond to it. There was a big gap in my strategy/outlook for the company and that of the founders. You can imagine for yourself as I met with them only 5-6 times in 2.5 months.
So, to end it all my experience with a start up was so pathetic that I vowed that I would not work with one if I could avoid it. I know the independence and responsibilities look lucrative in a start up but you have to compensate for that with more work and less pay. I guess it all boils down to an individual as to what he/she want form their life. For an engineer/techie I would say start up is a decent option as they get to learn a lot, they get a good exposure and there is no bench time. But for MBA’s a no no, trust me on that.

Mumbai Local Trains

My guess is that, most of us living in India are well aware of what Mumbai local’s(suburban trains) are and the challenge that they present to humanity(In my definition of humans, I do exclude people who commute daily using Mumbai locals, as they are not humans but super humans as per me.).
My first experience of locals was when I was of a vibrant age of ten and nine. I had come over to Bombay ooops Mumbai (better change that before MNS issues a fatwa in my name) to meet a cousin of mine who was working there. Being a vagrant, hot blooded teen I actually dared the ticket checker on the whole trip by travelling without ticket in the first class. As to what I was thinking when I was doing that I am yet to figure out, all I know is that was the period when I sought thrill and adventure in whatever form I could. In those times consequences was something I didn’t care about and definition of “macho” meant doing something stupid. I took that trip more as a challenge than a routine and used my fists to my advantage while travelling in locals.
Lately I had the misfortune of again using the services of esteemed Indian railways in Mumbai. Having lost much of my youthful energies, being more mature and having grown old (Yes! 24 is old, kids now call me uncle, damm!) my experiences were different as I looked at predicament differently and it gave me better perspective of this whole thing considered the life line of Mumbai.
Let me start by saying, I hate travelling in locals! Wow that was brief. But I mean it I absolutely detest the abomination called locals of Mumbai. This is one of the major reason for which I have taken a vow to never work in Mumbai if I could avoid it. Call me a cynic or whatever else you want to for my honest opinion, but prefer to have a space wherever I stand or sit for that matter. I do not like sweaty, greasy bodies of the men sandwiching me, pushing and shoving me, no thank you I rather walk, if that was an option. I am also not a Homo for whom I am sure the experience in locals would be like that of a kid in candy store and he can grope and grab as many arse’s as he wishes without anyone raising an eyebrow at him.
If you think that ladies compartment/bogie is any better than my friends you are sadly mistaken. In fact to call those women ladies would actually not be correct, as Oxford dictionary describes a lady as “courteous and genteel woman”. Gentle is the last thing that they are as their punches would give Mike Tyson a run for his money. If you are a newcomer and you accidently board the bogie reserved for women, then boy you are deep shit as you will be greeted with a slew of choicest of jeers.
But you don’t escape the womenfolk by simply avoiding the reserved bogie. At times women accompanied by their male counterpart’s board the general bogie too. Now Indian women are known to prim and modest especially amongst men. But this notion doesn’t apply to womenfolk travelling in locals as they do not mind rubbing their bodies with men, get their buttocks and bosom squashed for gaining an inch of space. I am especially very wary of such situation as you never know when a woman may allege that you tried to make a sexual move at her even though that woman may be such, that a sexual thought for her would not cross your mind even after spending 20 years in a secluded island. But knowing Indian masses a woman’s word has more weightage than a man’s. And women use this mindset of hordes to their advantage wherever they can to nudge simple folks like me out of their way.
During the course of one of my travels aboard the abomination, when I was helplessly dangling between stinking armpits I heard an old gentleman convey to a youngster that he was travelling in the locals for the past 35 years. Wow! That fact was actually making that “senior citizen” proud as if it was some great achievement. Well I think it actually is an achievement to have accomplished what he did. Could I ever achieve that, nopes never, not in a million years. I would rather prefer to go back to my ancestral village and till the land, than use this abomination for locomotion.
Such is the pride associated with travelling in locals at peak time that many a times my friends living in Mumbai actually compare the difficult tasks in life with travelling in locals at particular time and route. Ex: “You know this one time I was so pissed with my boss that if it was upto me I would have put him at peak time on a local from Andheri to Dadar.” Boy do you believe that, the travel is actually a way of inducing torture to your enemies.
Here are some of the facts that I will like to point out about this whole system:
1. A person(mostly a newcomer) may sometimes think that he would let this one local pass as there were too many people ready to get on board and there is lot of rush in general. Fool, enjoy your 5 minutes of heaven because before you know when the next local is scheduled to come you will find an equal number of people surrounding you again ready to jump in if not more.
2. It does not matter if the local that is coming on to the platform empty, because people will still run and push each other to get on board. I mean I have actually seen this, one time while I was sitting in my bogie(that’s a rare occasion my friends trust me, sitting wow, like a dream come true) the train came to a halt at one of the million station. I am not kidding their must be at least 20-25 empty places and the 6-7 odd guys who boarded the train at that stop jumped in as if this was the last train to heaven. This phenomenon I must confess is not limited to Mumbai but is prevalent all across the nation. For an observer who’s just sitting casually on the platform the whole sight is like dogs chasing after a car.
3. If travelling in this death wagon was not enough, the sheer confusion of on which side the platform would come makes many a novice’s like me to shuttle between the two doors while people are just pushing you away on either side and miss the destination many a times.
4. It was here that I actually realized the importance of time, when I heard a passerby say he intended to catch a local scheduled for of 1.37 pm. 37 are you serious, such odd digit was never in my travel dictionary. It can be 1, 1.30 at max 1.15. But 37 what hell! One good thing that this system has done i.e made the people punctual.
5. For an individual to travel on a local with some luggage at rush hour is truly a feat appreciated by gods. Having experienced it let me tell you my friends it is not a pleasant experience but one that will haunt you. Your bag out of your sight lost ion the hordes of legs with only the last bit of your muscle clinging on to it and giving you a hope that its still is their.
6. There is no point ironing your clothes here, after all with such a multitude of individuals pushing and pulling, you can’t expect your crease to be intact and neither do you expect the fragrance of your new AXE deodorant to last as that fragrance is overcome by the stench of a thousand different types of sweat.
7. For a guy who’s not very tall sometimes the situation becomes very suffocating, especially if you are trapped a bit far away from either doors and on top of that in the event of discharge of flatulence, only the lord will be your savior.
I remember watching “The Amazing Race” on TV once, in which one of the couple participating had an option of choosing between travelling in locals and some other task. Poor simpletons they ignorantly chose to travel in locals without having a clue of what they were getting into. Well it resulted in the poor lady disembarking in the very first station that came after she boarded the train with tears in her eye, filled with fear and clinging to her hubby. Well what do expect when a hundred hands grab your butt and squash your assets.
I know I make it all sound scary but that’s how it is, with people precariously dangling on the doors, crossing tracks when the trains are approaching etc. Believe you me this whole affair is dangerous with occasional deaths taking place every now and then.
So the question the bottom-line is that if it’s as bad as I describe, why do people and even I still travel on it? Well the answer is pretty simple, there is no other fucking option. I hate to say this but locals are not only the cheapest but the fastest way to travel in Mumbai. This 5km distance on car may take 2 hr in some parts whereas 5 min in Locals. So you have speed and you got economy, the golden words that define the criteria for the selection of a mode of transport. No wonder everyday millions travel in Locals. So basically people do not have much option with them, I mean there are buses which are equally cheap but the time constraint is their. Although I hate to admit this but yes they are the best way to travel in Mumbai, only if there were not so many people.
Although I have said a lot of negative things about my experiences with local trains of Mumbai, but there are some good point’s associates with the human beings on boards these. Firstly I have seen and experienced this that at times when the train has pushed of from the station and you are still struggling to get on, people help you to get in squeezing their asses here and there. Also for a newbie like me who is not sure which train will come at which platform and when a particular station would come and on which side, one of the persons around you would be surely willing to help.
Hmmm, to conclude all I’ll say is I salute the people who travel in locals daily and till scientist device a mechanism for human beings to fly, locals would remain the “life line” of Mumbai.