Randomness..

I] Random Encounters

28-Sep-2010: Being bashful!

In an ATR flight from Hyderabad to Pune, I was idling away my time staring into a book and I just happened to smile at Melissa, the air hostess, who was almost done explaining the sleepy passengers the safety regulations of the small aircraft. As Melissa made her way to her seat she commented: “You have a very cute smile…oh…I bet you get that very often!” Lack of sleep and the caffeinated mind told me that my repartee should be “Oh yeah I do have a cute smile….but I do not have beautiful women like you say that often.” However what I actually said was “thank you”, blushed, smiled some more and went back to staring at the banal words in the book!

02 and 03 Oct 2010-Barter of Hope and a Strange Encounter:

On the Saturday of 02-Oct-2010, I met a very vibrant and a highly self motivated person who has managed to fight a lot of adversities-personal and pecuniary to come a long way ahead in life. I spent an afternoon talking to her, exchanging ideas and philosophizing over the clichés of life. Soaking in the vicarious pleasures of her experiences, I felt really motivated and hopeful- motivated because she is one of the few people who actually believes that obstacles are only opportunities and there is always a way over them. An ordinary person with ordinary problems of money and social shackles- she has managed to make things work the way she wanted them to be…hats-off to this woman…she has a long road of success waiting for her to walk on!

The Strange Encounter:

On Sunday, 03-Oct-2010, I met up Rahul and Lydia at Marine Drive and by almost late evening they were on the train back home and I was still staring at the waves crashing in on the boulders on the shore and the brightly lit skyline of Mumbai. Finally when I realized that it was too late and I was feeling a bit salty, I started walking towards Churchgate station so that I could take a cab to CST. On the short walk till Churchgate, I bumped into a man who started talking to me in an incoherent language. After ignoring him for a few seconds I went back to him to understand what he was trying to convey and when I eventually did, I was shocked. His incoherent language was the language that a pimp uses. The conversation that followed was:

Incoherent Stranger (who was very clear in his speech now): Kya aap ko do-teen ghante ka program banana hai?

Me: Huh!!??

I S: School girl, Chinese, Nepali, Foreigner…Jo bhi chaiye mil jayegi…

I start to walk away…

I S: Arre Sahab…dekh to lo….mazaa aa jayega!

Still shocked at being approached by a pimp, I start waking towards the station; however I was also smiling to myself thinking that it was just too obvious for a stranger to read the thoughts about my sex starved status!

After this strange and rather funny encounter what followed completes the second half of the story on “Barter of Hope”. I reached Churchgate station and sat in a cab, but once again I realized that my mouth was not listening to my mind and instead of asking the cab driver to take me to CST, I asked him to take me to Mulund (home). Expensive, but comfortable- I thought, and anyway I was too stressed to bother with tickets and the train commute. (I am just being a spoilt corporate guy here, I guess).

The second I shut the door of the cab, I sighed and started to enjoy the humid and the cool South Mumbai breeze. However my sigh came out as a tiny shriek and that caught the cab driver’s attention. The following conversation happened:

(Most of the dialogues have been translated into English for the ease of writing)

Cab driver: Saab, What happened… are you tensed?

Me: yup…that’s right

Cab driver: haan…you are right…now-a-days everyone is tensed…money, job, family…there are undue pressures everywhere…anyway my name is Hari Prasad…how much money will you give me for the fare till Mulund?

Me: Huh...aren’t we going by the meter…

HP: Nahi…I won’t get a fare back…

Me: ok…you tell me how much should I give you...I will agree if it is reasonable…

HP: Saab, whatever you think is reasonable…pay me…normally the fare is somewhere around 500…

Me: uhh…ok…500 is good…

(After a few minutes of silence I realize that suddenly I am in “let’s talk” phase of mind)

Me: So Hari Prasad, you are from Mumbai….?

HP: Haan Saab….I stay in Wadala…I have been driving the taxi for the past three years…

Me: Oh that’s nice...how old are you…

HP: 26 years…

Me: Oh…you are quite young…How come you are driving a taxi…didn’t you think of pursuing education…

HP: Saab, what do I tell you…it wasn’t that I always wanted to be a cab driver…my circumstances have led me to what I am…

Me: What happened… tell me about it…

HP: I was born in the slums of Wadala and I have grown up in the same place…my father did put me in school…however I was not a very good student…and thus I could not complete my education and after failing in the 10 standard exams…I quit studying…my father was not too happy about it…

Me: What did you do after that?

HP: I started doing odd jobs after that…however not concentrating on anything seriously… I was not bringing much money home anyway…but what I feel sad about is that I started hanging out with the bad people of the basti…

A couple of my good friends went on to complete college and they are now in good jobs…selling insurance, working in hotels…they are leading a good life…am jealous of them…

However the people who I was hanging out…we didn’t do much…and slowly we formed a gang of our own…and people stated referring to me as “bhai”…

Me (shocked): Are you serious…you don’t look like a bhai (given the fact that Hari Prasad was quite a lanky chap)…

HP (smiling): Haan Saab…those were the days… (He got lost in thought for probably a couple of minutes thinking about his infamous past)

Me: So…then what happened?

HP: My circumstances started becoming worse…and they hit rock bottom when three years ago I was admitted to the hospital…I was stabbed in the stomach with a sword…

Me (extremely shocked): Kya baat kar rahe ho?????

HP: Haan Saab…if you think I am making up this story… then have a look at this…

Hari Prasad lifted his shirt and showed me huge and an ugly scar that was running from his navel till the side of his stomach.

Me: How did you land up with this?

HP: Yeh…this was done by Ahmed… a person form the basti who I could not make friends with and for some reason he has always been jealous of me…

Me: Why was he jealous of you?

HP: Family and upbringing…we are poor…but I was lucky to have good family…my father has worked extremely hard to bring me up…he has instilled good values in me…however Ahmed… he does not have a father…it is a known fact in the basti that he is a bastard…his mother has probably slept with many men…I do not like talking bad about his mother…but given these facts you can understand what kind of childhood and upbringing he must have gone through…he was always on the look out to hurt me…and one day we had a very bad argument…the argument turned very dirty…and we had started abusing each other’s family…after the argument finally ended…I went back home to get some rest…

While I was in the house…my father had gone to the market to get some groceries…he was on a cycle…and while he was returning…he fell down and hurt his leg…he fractured his ankle…and he had gone to the nearby clinic to have it plastered…I came to know about this and I left the house to see him in the clinic…however as I left my house…a couple of my friends came an told me that Ahmed was on his way to harm me…I didn’t bother…I was ready to take on that bastard…would have even killed him that day….however fate had it otherwise…as I was on the way to the clinic Ahmed came running towards me in the galli…and I was taken by surprise that he was carrying a sword with him….he just came rushing towards and without saying a single word, he lifted the sword and pierced it through my stomach…I do not remember much after that…all I remember is screams…a lot of blood all around me…when I regained my consciousness I was in the hospital…I clearly remember the face of the doctor who was speaking to me…and I also remember the disappointed and the sad face of my 73 year old father…

Later I learnt that I had to undergo a major operation…which lasted for 08 hours…the situation was exactly the way they show in the movies…the doctors had given up the hopes on me…it was finally a doctor who was called from Bombay Hospital who had to be brought in to fix the mess on my body…the doctor told me that the sleeping medicine…the one that they normally give before the operation…was not effective on me…I had to be given three times the normal dose of that medicine…that is how aggressive and garam my blood was….but all’s well that ends well…after my discharge from the hospital I decided that I will lead a good life and give up all my bad ways…I could not tolerate the look of disappointment in my father’s eyes…I had worked in a garage before…and I spoke to the owner and got him to get me a taxi and that is what I have been doing since the past three years…driving a taxi on the streets of Mumbai…tying to get rid of my past…but Saab…I tell you one thing…the moment I get an opportunity, which will be quite soon, main Ahmed ka game karne wala hoon!

Me (still trying to digest the truth of the story that I had heard): Game karne wala hoon…you are going to murder Ahmed (I could not believe that I was saying those words to a real person in a real life scenario)

HP: Haan Saab…that bastard deserves the punishment…now-a-days when we cross our paths…uske gaand mein dum nahi hai to look me in the eyes….I have moved on but he is where he supposed to be- in the dumps…but still I will avenge him for sure…it has been three years…I am married now and also have a daughter….but am still on a look out for a ghoda so that I am able to put all the bullets into him…

ME (confirming that Hari Prasad was not drunk and he was serious about the murder plan): You have a daughter!!!…how old is she?

HP: She is 18 months old….

Me: Tell me honestly, Hari Prasad, what will you gain from murdering Ahmed?

HP: Satisfaction…that I taught that Muslim bastard a lesson…I will be at peace…

Me (completely ignoring the racist remark): Are you sure you will be at peace….Hari Prasad…look at the circumstances now that you are in…you are married…you have an infant to take care of…what do you think happens after you have murdered Ahmed…you will be walking Scot free in the basti…Hari Prasad you will be in jail…will you be at peace behind bars…will you be at peace knowing that your daughter will grow up never knowing what a father is….will you be at peace knowing that you have brought yourself satisfaction but your father has gained only more humiliation from your revenge…your ambition of revenge is not something to be proud of…the next time you see Ahmed in the galli…trying not to look at him and don’t think about what he did to you…that will make you move towards your path of revenge…rather think about your daughter’s face…think about the time that she smiles holding your hand…think about your father’s old age…your wife…

HP: Lekin….it is so difficult to forgive him…he is a part of a curse that has come into our society…he is nothing but a Muslim motherfucker…

Me: Hari Prasad...listen to me…there are two things that I want to tell you…first…Ahmed may be bad person…he may have done bad things to you…but that does not make all Muslims bad…there are lot of very good natured and highly educated Muslims in our society as well…people may be good or bad…what makes them good or bad is their actions and not their religion (I felt like Rizvan Khan’s mother from My Name is Khan here)…you and me both of us know that just as there are bad Muslims there are bad Hindus as well….so stop blaming Ahmed being a Muslim for your issues…and secondly about forgiveness…yeah probably it is difficult…but as I told you need to focus on your marriage and your daughter…you are driving a taxi…yes probably it is a small job if you compare it to your friends’ insurance selling job….but do the job honestly…good things will come your way…Ahmed was a bad incident of your past…he will get punished for his deeds…the punishment may take time…but it will happen…keep in mind “Karmanye vadhi karaste mafaleshu kadachan”…this is a quote from Bhagvad Gita…do you know what it means…

HP: Haan...I know...I should keep doing my work and not be bothered about the circumstances…you are right…I think I will let go of hatred towards Ahmed…I will definitely try…

Me: Keep doing good work…and doing it honestly….

HP: Saab…what is your name?

Me (Laughing): Do you want to know my name or my religion…anyway my name is Ronak…

HP: Are you a Brahmin?

Me: No…why do you ask

HP: Because Saab, you were able to quote Gita…

Me: I can quote Gita not because I am a Brahmin…because I am educated…Hari Prasad…forget about what Ahmed has done to you…work hard so that you can give your daughter a good educated life…

(The journey to Mulund had come to an end. I gave directions to Hari Prasad to my home. I finally got out of the cab, paid Hari Prasad the 500 rupees)

Me: Hari Prasad….we have met for the first time…but do remember my words…do not spoil your life by going after a revenge that is uncalled for…

HP: Thank you Saab…no one has ever spoken to me the way you have spoken to me today…I will always remember your words…I do not feel like stopping our conversation here…I wish to hear more from you…

Me (being melodramatic): If destiny has it, we will surely meet…take care…

As I was walking towards the elevator of my building, I was still trying to fathom the whole experience. Was Hari Prasad actually planning to murder a person? Will my philosophical/spiritual/melodramatic discourse actually put an end to the hatred in him? Was I able to make Hari Prasad a hopeful man? I will never know.

Story of India-Untold, Still!

Over her thousands of years of existence, India has evolved from being a beautiful maiden, a glorious woman, a ravaged mistress and eventually a hurt and an indifferent Mother to a billion indolent children. After living out each phase of her life, natural or forced, she grew as a nation. Changes that were brought about by the various people were easily accepted by her. The acceptance came in because she believed that the winds of change were for the better. But today the winds have stopped blowing over her and she can only see the dark clouds of apathy scattered all over.
The birth of the Indus Valley civilization led to the flourishing settlements at Mohenjo- Daro and Harappa. These civilizations introduced the world to a beautiful maiden called India. The prosperity of the then Bronze Age resulted in a community of people who were basking in the glory of increasing trade, arts and a new sense of civilized culture. The maiden was enjoying her days of serenity and calm.
Geographic changes and the Aryan invasion gradually put an end to the carefree days of the maiden. Just as a teenager would take to adulthood, India entered the threshold of maturity. The growth through the Vedic era brought not only the foundation of Hinduism to her soul but also the plethora of various cultures. Languages and dialects came into existence and spread across the cultural heartland. The spread of the cultures among the population sowed the seeds of fraternity, diversity and serenity albeit with a sense of merriment in the soul of the social India. India had matured into a beautiful woman whose voluptuousness was defined by her social, cultural and erudite inhabitants. If Northern India flourished under the Guptas, then Southern India prospered under the Chalukyas and the Cholas.
The folklores of a beautiful India had successfully seduced the Mughals and in no time the Mughal Empire had ravaged the Indian soul and put an end to the Golden Age of India. A woman was ravaged; and this left a huge devastating experience on her. The invasion by the Mughals was only the beginning of the many more devastations that she would have to bear in the future. However the Mughals knew how to protect the beauty of their mistress and they treated her well. The Mughals brought along with them the enormous influences of the Persian culture in the form of striking literary, artistic and architectural results. India instead of transforming into a rigid and a hurt woman grew as a liberal, open and a resilient person. The Classic Period of the Mughals saw the growing intimacy between the resident Indian soul and the attractive yet ambitious strategies of the Persian rulers. Her values had transmogrified into a mishmash of Hindu, Muslim, Sikh and Buddhist values but she was happy as the Mughals promised her a brilliant future.
The established British East India Company could not tolerate this growing intimacy and jealously crept in. The thoughts of jealousy soon translated into vicious actions and these cruel doings saw the British violate the sacred Indi
(End of this essay)

This essay was born on 26-Jan-2010…it was supposed to be some sort of an ode to the country on the occasion of the 60th Republic Day…a song of history, praise and displeasure…what if India took up the form of a woman...what would her feelings towards her off springs be…her equations with all the different men (read: empires/dynasties) that wanted to win her over be…however it had to be culminated inappropriately as the thought process put in place got polluted. The concept of projecting India, my Motherland, as a woman through different eras of her life got perverted. Descriptions about her innocence, gloriousness, attraction, strength, lessons and progeny had to be put to an end. The Mother soon became just another woman that I started to imagine and began to relate her in a way I shouldn’t have. This, I believe, is quintessentially the curse of a hyperactive imagination…and am overpowered to end my thought process on this subject for now!

Afterthought:
As diversity becomes the norm and everyone willing to butcher their Mother, it is ironical that apathy is the only emotion that arises in our hearts. This woman who once had the power to give away greatness has been reduced to a starving destitute…yet everyone wants to bite into the minimal amount of meat of prominence…if we do not feed her with our love…the future generations will have nothing left for inheritance….

The Meaning of Ladakh

* I would sincerely like to express my gratitude to Vinod Sreedhar who made the entire experience to Ladakh possible. It was only because of his efforts that I was able to come in touch with so many beautiful and warm people. Responsible and eco-friendly traveling was the message that he wants to put across and the message was rightly conveyed via this Journey.*

I was finally able to catch up on my sleep for the past four days in Mumbai; although my eyes still see the “Lamdon” school sign on the brown mountains of Leh every morning I wake up here. Ironically, as I am catching up on my sleep, I realize that I am distancing myself from the world of dreams that I was a part of for the past eighteen days. Thus, I have been assured that Ladakh is one of the most beautiful and serene places on this planet.
The four arduous days that it took to reach Leh from Mumbai were completely worth the time. Not only did these four days help to break the ice in the group of fifteen motley people, but they also made me observe things that would make for interesting story telling sessions back home in Mumbai.
Initially, I had thought that I would be getting lot of time for introspection in the fresh air of the Himalayas. But the concept of Journeys with Meaning had something else to offer apart from my personal time of introspection.
To begin with the imagery of Ladakh was spell-binding. The brown barren mountains in the foreground and the bright blue skies as the backdrop were therapeutic enough to purge my mind of thinking. After a long period, my mind was experiencing clarity in the form of nothingness. This emptiness of the mind was occasionally interrupted by random creative thoughts; although these too would just fade away just as the shadows on the mountains would.
The primary emotions that I came across in Ladakh were love and insignificance. It was love- love for everyone and everything. I guess that would be the only emotion anyone would experience in a place as divine and pure as Ladakh. The other emotion of insignificance is also something that one would one would feel in this region of vast diverse landscapes.
The one aspect of the landscape that I am still to get over is the blueness of the sky. “Feeling blue” is a phrase that is associated with sorrow or depression. However after taking in the magnificent blue sky of Ladakh, the phrase will be used as an expression of happiness and peace, at least in my dictionary. The sight of the blue skies with the floating white clouds casting their playful shadows over the rough and the rugged brown terrain will be etched in the memoirs of Ladakh forever.
The endless walking/trekking expeditions in Leh, Hemis national park, Yangthang, Hemishukapchen and Pan Gong not only brought me closer the Ladakhi landscapes, the Ladakhi culture, the Ladakhi history, her warm people but it also provided a better understanding of myself through the divinity and the sanctity of the surroundings.
The nights in Ladakh are the medium by which you can look at billions of stars and take a glimpse of the Milky Way as well. However brighter than the stars were the philosophical discourses and the conversations underneath them. People pour their hearts out and that would probably be the most honest conversations ever. Pauses in these conversations come by only when the people involved want to hear what the mountains, earth, wind and the skies have to speak as well.
The people in Ladakh personify trust, warmth, beauty and simplicity. The nature of the people is antagonist to the weather of the place. The weather was cold, barren and even heartless at times; but the nature of the Ladakhi people always managed to put a smile on such a milieu.
The following people will always be remembered fondly by me:
1. The entire group of Journeys with Meaning
2. Stanzin and his family, Rahul, Bobby, Lakpa, Tashi
3. Quinchuk- The guide on the trek for three days
4. Mr. Namgyal and his family at Hemishukapchen
5. People at Women’s Alliance of Ladakh (Ben, Debbie), Leh Nutrition Project (Mr. Norphel- Artificial Glacier’s Project), SECMOL (Becky and her team)
6. Strangers greeting you with Julley

The interactions with the innovative minds in Ladakh provided a completely different perspective to the way of living. I was surprised to notice that the best of the minds in the society would want to come to a place as inaccessible as Ladakh and showcase their intellectual strengths for the betterment of region. The causes and the issues were basic and localized to the region. However the solutions and the lessons to be learnt were universal and applicable to all beings on this planet. The lessons learnt were about sustainability. If we have to sustain our lives as human beings on this wonderful planet, we will have to strive to improvise our work and our culture. Our actions are directly related with the fate of our race and the destiny of this planet. Responsibility towards education, environment and sustainable lifestyle is the answer to majority of the issues that the world is currently facing. It is now time to implement some of these lessons in our daily lives.
Meaning of Ladakh- A land of peace and freedom where you are shackled by prayer flags carrying across the blessings, positive thoughts reverberating through the region, breathtaking beauty, warmth of the people, confluence of intellect and simplicity of life!
We all are one. We are one with each other, with the places that we reside in, with the places that we visit, with the flora and fauna, with the planet and obviously with the universe in whole. Our movements to any part of the planet result in leaving behind some evidences of our presence at these places. The evidences could be either the concrete evidences in the form of human activities or it could be a part of our soul that we leave behind. I believe that only certain places have the ability to make you leave behind a very large part of your soul behind. The part of the soul that is left behind continues its pursuit of the place in its own way. Physically one may be in any part of the universe, but there will always be a thread connecting your heart and the part of your soul that was left behind in that special place. I am still not sure whether I have left a part of my soul in Ladakh or I have just been able to re-connect with it once again; but Ladakh is a place where I can definitely say that I encountered truth, or was it God?

Paranoia or Pursuit of Happiness

*Thoughts written here were being translated into words at 0130 hrs after a really high dose of caffeine*
In life, all things simple are the most difficult to comprehend. There is no novelty in this thought, but I’d like to carry it through the by lanes of my brain. Of all the simple things that the platter of life has to offer I would like to ponder on love. Love is an emotion, a religion, a state of mind, a matter of the heart. Love, I feel, is a beautiful, abstract yet tangible existence whose definition could fill up volumes of books but at the same time it can expressed through something as simple as a smile. Love exists in the entire spectrum of relationships- man and woman, parents and children, siblings, people and pets, man and his country, man and his possessions, man and his religion, man and life, man and his passions- and the list of the relationships does not end here. The expression of love would vary with the changing contexts.
Man has a basic instinct to be secure, to survive and exist peacefully which in other words would be to pursue happiness. A man falling in love with a woman is guided by attraction, a special bond, a need to settle down and procreate. The need for procreation arises from the belief the man will be able to reproduce the happiness, he feels, he has achieved. This process of creating happiness and love would remain the same for all the other relationships mentioned earlier. Love and happiness follow each other in a cyclic manner. A happy man is most likely to fall in love and a man in love is most likely to be happy. In most circumstances the concept of love and happiness is synonymous.
If love is a beautiful and a simple emotion and all living beings are born with the capability to express it, then why is it considered so complicated? I guess the answer is lack of reciprocation.
Love is as stubborn and innocent as a newborn child. It is always on a hunt for a complementary emotion. It is the expectation of reciprocation that complicates the emotion of love. A complicated emotion does not conclude with a successful pursuit of happiness. This theory of lack of reciprocation of love holds true for all the equations that exist in the universe. In cases where reciprocation (read: things to work out) is expected to come from inanimate objects (money, possessions, success in job, calling in life, hope to travel, world peace, etc), and it does not happen, it must be some kind of an occult system put in place by Nature/God to personify these inanimate objects and subsequently help them to disapprove the incoming emotions. The lack of reciprocation only makes you sad and at times hurtful.
Peace comes with acceptance. This is the only harsh lesson that man has to learn and use it to fight the complication.
These are all very often repeated thoughts and words, but for me the whole understanding of the process took time and it is only now that I have been able to give a framework to my thoughts.

The Dubai Diary (28-Feb-2010 till 02-Mar-2010)

It is very difficult to put in words the limited but the wholesome experiences acquired in Dubai. A corporate meeting was the perfect red herring to have a two day holiday in the city of gold. Looking at the vastness of the desert land turning into the oasis of stunning buildings and modern infrastructure from 15000 feet was surreal. The first feel of Dubai at the airport was very windy and humid. I learnt that this kind of weather is very rare in the entire spectrum of the emirate’s climate. So I guess the city had just decided to greet her first time guest with a weather that was even unknown to her!
Settling down in the chauffeured transport from the airport, the first thing I took note was that Dubai was left hand drive and the roads had possibly all the expensive cars available from all around the world. By the time I checked in to my hotel for the day, I had almost got used to seeing a lot of males dressed in the traditional white robes with a black head ring ( I forgot the Arabic name for this attire though). After spending some refreshing moments in the hotel room, I was soon at the concierge racking my brains over the map of Dubai and trying to get the “Al-Whatever(s)” memorized.
I was very confused despite the excellent efforts of the concierge, so I just went by my instincts and I hopped into a taxi and headed straight to the Dubai Museum- getting a cultural head start would be a good idea! Commuting in Dubai by taxis is not a very smart idea as it does get a bit expensive- you are in the cab for 4-5 minutes and you shell out approximately 25 AED (Dirhams); however I did not have the luxury of time to get a bus/metro pass for the span of two days.
I feel that sitting in the front seat along with the driver is the perfect way to start a conversation and get to know the city from a tourist and a non- tourist perspective. * Most cab drivers in Dubai are Indians and Pakistanis… and if they are from Pakistan…for some reason every one of them is from Peshawar.*
Talking to the taxi drivers was quite enlightening as it was the fastest way to know the bourgeoisie of an opulent city. The fact that I could concur from the talks with the various taxi drivers was that the city of affluence has some really warm hearts running one of the efficient commute systems of the city. (Also after the many trips and conversations with the taxi drivers, I did get used to my salaam-alay-kum s and Khuda Hafiz s)
The trip to the Dubai Museum was very enriching as it gave me the feel of the evolution of the wonderful emirate. The museum traced back to the times of evolution of Dubai from being just another oasis to a trading port to the discovery of oil and to the stupendous progress that followed. Not only did I travel back in time at the museum, but also got a glimpse into some of the magnificent projects lined up for the future.
By the time I was done with the cultural introduction of the city, it was early evening and time for me to explore the city. My next adventure was a ride in one of the oldest transport systems still existent in the city- the Abra. The Abra is small boat that has been used since the times of the booming trade in the city. It was used to carry not only the goods but people as well across the creek that divides the city into two distinct areas. The ride in the Abra was quite cheap (only 01 AED one way) and very novel. The weather was just perfect (breezy, cloudy and less humid) to be out in the waters of the creek of Dubai. People on the Abra included tourists, daily wage workers and also the middle class professionals. The ports across the creeks where the Abras ferried were quite distinctly different from each other. On one hand you have a port which was just an extension of the promenade and lined up with great cafes and floating restaurants and on the other port, the place was something that seemed which had not changed for centuries. It had retained all its old world charm-a semi open market place with beautiful Arabic arches which sold everything from “I love Dubai” t-shirts to “antiques” ( probably one could just find the Magical Lamp with a genie inside). Strolling along this market was very strange and nice. After a 10 minute ferry ride, I arrived at the other side and went on exploring the place completely guided by my instinct-sometimes ending up at a towering fancy hotel, a mall sometime or just a public toilet. Most of the part of the exploration was, however, along the promenade appreciating the architectural (not being a pedantic here) differences in the city’s buildings and the culture around. Time just flew strolling around the long stretch of the creek- a very relaxing stroll… the weather and the active mind made perfect company for me.
The next couple of hours were spent in the comforts of the hotel room freshening up, working out at the gym and contemplating as to what should be next on the agenda. And then suddenly my eyes caught the sight of an advertisement on the back of the map-“The Big Bus is the only way to see Dubai….night tours on Wednesdays and Saturdays…Get your tickets NOW!!!” No second thoughts on this one and in less than an hour’s time I was sitting on the roof of a red colored open air tour bus with the wind slapping in the face. The commentator for the night was a chirpy 19 years old British girl who happened to know the facts and trivia about the city very well. The two and half hours tour took me all over the city- the museums, the mosques, the famous roads, the tallest buildings, the biggest hotels, the beaches, Gold Souk (they even have purple gold) the mansions of the Sheikhs, Palm Jumeirah and more…Half way through the tour something really unexpected happened…I experienced something that Dubai experiences only five times in a year-rain!! The windy weather culminated in a fantastic display of lightening against the background of the Dubai skyline and it was quite obvious that heavy showers followed the lightening. A look of disbelief, shock and excitement was seen on the faces of all the people on the streets. The traffic also went into a tizzy as the drainage in the city is not really equipped to handle heavy showers.* Sharjah- Dubai’s neighbor does not even have a drainage system in place!*. It was really a wet, cold and a happy experience- all thanks to Kathy who was keeping the spirits of everyone high with her bubbly banter!
After this joyful journey around the city the next biggest obstacle was getting a taxi and this was overcome after an arduous wait of 90 minutes. Once back in the hotel I placed all the wet money everywhere to let it dry off, ordered food and then hit the bed for a good night’s rest.
The following morning started of with a heavy breakfast and completing the task of changing hotels. The Grand Hyatt Dubai is a beautiful property and the hotel is laid out across keeping the theme of flowing water in place and thus anywhere in the hotel lobby or its campus one is able to hear the sound of flowing water. * The wings of the hotel are designed in such a way that the aerial view of the hotel reads “Dubai” in the Arabic text.*
I started my afternoon by visiting the malls of Dubai-first one being the Dubai Mall *world’s largest mall… it even has a large walk through aquarium and a skating rink* and then the Mall of the Emirates which has the Dancing Fountain and an indoor ski slope as its claim to fame. Later I decided to spend my late afternoon and evening on the Jumeirah Beach road. It is a beautiful stretch of road lined by villas, malls, clinics offering cosmetic treatments and open air cafes…and also the road runs along the Jumeirah beach. I started the exploration with a visit to the Jumeirah mosque (the only mosque in Dubai that allows non-Muslims to enter). However I was disappointed as the mosque had dedicated timings for non-Muslims to enter the mosque. I was just about to leave the mosque and then I heard the call of the mosque to the people to offer their prayers and I decided to hang around for some more time. People from all around the area and from all walks of life came to the mosque to say their prayers. I was not allowed to go in so I just sat on the stairs of the mosque and said my prayers. While sitting there I happened to notice the kind of silence and tranquility that had suddenly overcome the other busy looking block. The chirping of the birds was probably the only noise that could be heard. Forty five minutes or so later of praying and imbibing the serenity, I felt spiritually recharged and I took the road again and headed straight to the beach.
The beach seemed to have a culture of its own. White sand, clear waters, sun-bathers, exotic villas, children playing, joggers….this was the scene! I was quite astonished to see women in bikinis, although these women were Europeans/Americans, as I was of the opinion that the emirate would be a very conservative place. However I later learnt that the conservative culture is only followed by the natives and is not imposed on the outsiders. *The population of Dubai is 80% expatriate and only 20% native*.
Listening to the sound of the waves and staring into the vastness of the sea was quite soothing and a welcome break from the almost pretentious ostentation everywhere else. Full of content and warmth, I headed back to the hotel to be out again. However this time I was a colleague who wanted to go on a shopping spree in the “Mini India/Pakistan” market called Mina Bazaar. After three hours of going around the place we ended up with nothing in hand, umpteen taxi rides and a thorough understanding of the by lanes of Mina Bazaar.
The next two days were spent in the conference halls of the Grand Hyatt and the evening in the gymnasium; and this all I have to write about that! But the weekend spent in Dubai – a city that has to offer everything for everyone would sure be quite memorable.
I did not go dune riding, I did not see any belly dancers, I did not eat camel meat, I did not shop nor did I do any of the other things that are probably associated with Dubai… but I connected with Dubai in my own special way…I went around the city in the rain, I spoke to some really warm people, I saw some wonderful and attractive places, I collected interesting trivia about the city, I prayed at a beautiful and a peaceful mosque, I enjoyed watching the sea…to sum it up, I was glad that I got to spend time with myself in a place as superlative as Dubai!

Que Sera Sera...

* There was hope that was endeavored upon to bring about the much needed change that each one of us would like to see in the world around us. However something as abstract as destiny, financial security and social inhibitions won the battle against the concrete of determination and will. Probably now was not a good time to start marching in the direction of the winds of change....when... I do not know...but giving in to the future is the only path that I am certain of...scared of saying this but I hope that the hope in me rekindles once again...Que Sera Sera...*
A 10 year old idli vendor at Jogeshwari station is sobbing profusely because he is scared of the severe punishment that will be pelted at him by his “master” because the municipality fined him on that unfortunate day.
On a Sunday evening, there is a 6 year old girl on the Marine Drive promenade who is endeavoring to make a sale of at least one pencil with a glowing star at the non-lead end to the nonchalant pedestrians.
An advertisement on a television at CST showing a happy bunch of kids playing with paper boats in a beautiful town is being watched dreamily by an 8 year old whose hands, out of habit, are gesturing the commuters to put some money in them.
Examples like these are plenty but the common thread between these children and many more is their dreams. All children have an excellent imagination which gives rise to some powerful dreams that have the power to create magic in the world. However the only way that these thoughts and ambitions could be put in concrete is through the path of good education.
I would like to define education as a life long process that is much more than literacy; it is the will to learn life, and it goes hand in hand with the spirit of liberty and love. Education empowers an individual to not only dream but also to construct the roads to achieve them. Education gives the courage to bring about the change in the lives of individuals. Proper education imparted at the right phase in life can help revolutionize the gloomy lives of children like the ones described above. Education can help the idli vendor to understand that only he is the “master” of his life and nobody can violate his self respect and personal space. Education can teach the little girl the correct application of the pencil that she was selling which would eventually help her collect all the “glowing stars” that life has to offer. Education can give birth to the much needed confidence in the 8 year old beggar that could catapult him in the world of happiness that he dreams of.
I believe that by being a Teach for India fellow, I get the platform to bring about this transformation in the lives of the children and bring equity in the way education is imparted. Ignoring the straining situation of education in India is not going to help anyone and it is time to be accountable to bring about the change in the basic foundation of the society.
India is in her 63rd year of independence; however her citizens are not happy with the vices that are crippling her social stature. The strong “lack of equal education to all” pillar is supporting these vices. The pillar has to be eliminated today. The Teach for India fellowship is the perfect tool to abolish the bane of inequity of education.
Change always comes bearing gifts. And there is no better time than the next second to bring about the much needed winds of change in our society. It is time again to have a tryst with destiny to bring about the ray of hope amidst the dark clouds hovering above our society.
I see the fellowship as an opportunity for me to not only bring about the implementation of this reflection but also spend the next two years conceiving and accomplishing beneficial projects towards the cause of equal education in the under resourced schools of India. This fellowship with Teach for India will give the necessary pragmatic leverage to my thoughts and ensure actual fulfillment of the mission with concrete measures.

The Proposal...

* I am not too sure whether this poem should be called 'The Proposal..." but I guess only time will tell...*

In this world of insignificance, it is only your laughter that makes my living worthwhile…
Your presence in my life is what I desire, what I pray for and what I dream of…
Assuage my desires, grant my prayers and fulfill my dreams …

Life is always beautiful when I look at her through your eyes…
You are the certainty in my ambiguous existence…
Give me the chance of a lifetime of bliss and conviction…

Your slightest touch gives birth to ripples of excitement…
Waves of peace follow the pleasure of your feel…
An opportunity to be a slave of your touch is what I ask for…

It is only the fathomless ocean that compares the depth of your thoughts…
Pristine, pure and magical when expressed with unspoken words...
Bestow on me an eternal and an endless conversation…

You, a giver of warmth, care and compassion…
It’s now time you should know what it feels to be treasured for and thus…
Accept me to love you for forever and thereafter…