Dreams on Fire!

It was a noisy hall, but all I could hear was the thud of my heart. The compere had just invited another dignitary to the podium. A bald man wearing a black suit walked from the dais holding an envelope in his hand and greeted the crowd with a smile. The chatter of the audience did not reduce when the bald man said, “Here is the list of the 21 participants who have qualified for the national level contest in the alphabetical order…”, but the darkness inside my head turned pitch black.

The theme was “Economic and digital”. Participants had to make a presentation on how technology could be used for the upliftment of the poor and development of the impoverished classes of society. I did mine on “Distant Online Education” and spoke of how much easier, cheaper and effective it would be to spread education using internet. Out of a hundred and twenty participants from the state, only twenty one would qualify for the national level contest. And right from the beginning I knew that I would be on top of the list. But now that they were announcing the names in alphabetical order, I expected Mohammed Irfan to be somewhere in the middle.

Dreams – they can literally choke you. On one hand there is this hope of experiencing inexpressible joy, that can overwhelm you. And on the other hand there is a terrorizing fear of losing what you ventured upon.

Having your picture in the newspaper, to have your name called out in the school assembly, to see your parents show off your achievements in front of a relative… For a tenth grader, these could be his wildest dreams. And as I awaited the results, I knew that those dreams were just seconds away from being real. I could almost feel my finger touch that moment – the moment that I had nurtured in my heart for 4 long months, the moment that I had dreamed of every night in the past 16 weeks – it was just seconds away.

And as the bald man called out names, the other side of dreams grabbed hold of me – heart wrenching fear. 4 months of hard-work and hopes and aspirations and expectation would be flushed out if my name was not read by him. No amount of confidence in the world could suppress that fear, or even diminish it.

“LOKESH P. NAIR”, he announced. The next letter was ‘M’. I could feel my chest compress, my breath falter, each second seemed like forever. Two sided monster – Dream. I dreaded every passing second, did not want time to move at all. But I couldn’t wait for my name to be announced, it might be next! I rubbed my hands restlessly and the bald man announced, “MAHESH SRIDHAR”.

There cannot be too many names with ‘M’. The next had to be Mohammed. This is it! Here is comes. Speakers screamed, “MOHAMMED NIZAM…”

I – J – K – L – M – N… Alas! ‘N’ did come after ‘I’. Now there was no way ‘Irfan’ would be read out. It was over…

At that moment I was able to console myself. But peace didn’t last long and within one second frustration took complete control. “BLOODY BLUNDALEOMITE – WHAT COULD BE WRONG?” Anger was pumped into every cell of my body. Tears gushed out of my eyes. I clenched my wrists and pressed them on my face. “MRIDHULA D. JOSEPH”

I couldn’t imagine one flaw in the project. There was no way I couldn’t win. It was perfect… except… Except one spelling mistake that I clearly recall… Could that be the reason I lost? I had misspelt my name. ‘Mohammed’ was written as ‘Muhammed’…. Wait a minute… R – S – T – U… The speaker announce the next name, “MUHAMMED IRFAN”

There was another moment of peace. One moment of silence. One moment that passed on like any other, just one. The very next second I exploded joy. Fears vanished, victory achieved and dreams come true… I ran out of the auditorium and simply could not stop shouting. Wrestling away friends who slapped my back, I screamed! 

Another Lecture

**SCREECH…**

“BLOODY BLUNDALEOMITE!”

CRAZY WOMEN ON THEIR GOD DAMNED TWO-WHEELERS. DO THEY DRIVE WITH THEIR EYES OR THEIR BUTTS!? Ughh… Despicable creatures… shameless, hopeless, utterly disgusting… Riding without the barest sense of respect or responsibility! What the hell does she have her eyes on!? Huh… why would she care about that? Her family alone has to suffer. And an innocent soul like mine too, stuck behind bars for no fault at all. Whoever gave her a driving license in the first place. God knows if she has a driving license at all. Irresponsible idiots! And the future of the nation lies in their hands it seems – The Youth!

Parents are to blame for such atrocious behavior. But what can you tell these kids, one word against them and... “Just mind your own business and leave me alone OKAY!?” Wasn’t that my daughter’s reaction when I asked her to take up some studies in the morning. You try to be friendly, you try to be supportive and patient, you try to ignore every non-sense that happens under your nose and this is what happens! God save my child!

Wonder who is going to submit the quarterly results now? The auditors will rip me apart if I don’t get things done by tomorrow morning and nothing has even started. The CEO wants his reports for the board ready, the directors want their meeting soon, the staff want leave and everybody is happy to pour the blame on me. Suffocating fix I am stuck in.

And today I have to go shopping. Ammu will let all hell loose if I am late today. She must have already started complaining to Mom. Now Amma will accelerate her blood pressure for no reason. “My son is not talking to me”, “My son is not looking after me”, “My son is not spending time with me” - How many places am I supposed to be at once!?

There you go – No Parking. Must be some space behind the building. Ah, guess I can squeeze it over there. Time is 6.10 am, that’s good. And the hall is almost full it seems. Hmmm….

God help me. God bless my children…

Alright, almost everybody is in, and I have exactly one minute to start my lecture. The children are in their usual seats, that makes things comfortable. I will have to keep an eye on the fourth row, right side and those in the last three rows, the noisy ones. And those in the middle left are a little slow, have to make sure they catch up. But if I slow down too much the ones in the first two rows get bored and they stop reacting. If they stop shouting back to me, the entire class falls to sleep. It’s Assessment of Firm today, so can’t afford to let the first row sleep. Will stretch for an hour and half and then have a break, share a joke or two and the another hour and a half. Maybe a word of advice before I start the Malabar Fisheries case, to re-fresh them. So, that’s the end of one minute, hope they enjoy the class. Is it because I want to make them feel welcome, or is it because I love teaching, I seriously don’t know how this smile pops on my face before I say,

“Good Morning Friends!”

I am Rahul Gandhi

How easy it is to find fault in somebody! How much joy does it give us in passing on the blame to somebody else. In resting all our hopes and dreams on one person. Cursing the darkest devils when he doesn’t deliver and move on to find somebody else to lay our hopes on. We are always in search of a hero aren’t we?

Rahul Gandhi too was a hero once. The Gandhi scion once carried with him the hopes of a billion hearts. What happened after that is history. But in all this story there is one thing that truly fascinates me. What is Rahul Gandhi going to do next? Or let me phrase it a little better. What would I have done if I were in his shoes?

Taking up the responsibility for my parties greatest defeat, over-shadowed by a mighty prime-minister, the legacy of my fore-fathers heavy upon me, the dirt of UPA II stuck upon me, scarred, injured – what would I have done? What would I have done to show the world that I am a man of metal. To prove the nation that I have the strength to carry its hopes, that I have the guts to make sure that the dreams of a billion are met. To undo the damage of the past, resurrect the glory of my dynasty and make my own place in history.

And these questions are not just the product of imagination or fantasy. It is a test that I am preparing myself for. And I feel it is something we all must be prepared for. I feel that this generation represents the future and we must be ready to answer tough questions, face the most diabolic.

I must be ready to face the wrath of me predecessors and answer the questions of my successors. I must have the courage to bring about a change and ensure that the success passes on to the next generation. In the process I have to fight people, institutions, organizations and at times an entire nation.

It is time we all step into Mr. Gandhi’s shoes and take up the fight in our own hands. Scarred, injured, exhausted, humiliated and frustrated. For one reason or another, is that not how all of us feel. One way or another – are you not Rahul Gandhi?

Passing on your hopes to the leader, that was the work of an earlier generation. Meeting my dreams is my own responsibility, and I alone am answerable to that. I have a country to lead, a revolution to create, a world to change. My back is upright, my arms are strong and my feet are ready to run. My heart races the west wind.

These words aren’t empty. These promises are not short lived.

This post is just but smoke – announcing an imminent volcano.

I am just but a breeze – announcing the thunder storm.

Watch out folks…

Renaissance is coming… 

Forgive... But Never Forget

My grip on the steering wheel was stronger as I drove that night. I even lost focus a couple of times and felt my wife’s hand shoot up to grab mine, pulling me back to the road. But it was hard to concentrate. Where I was going to that night – my destination – it was some place I had left 15 years back.

I still don’t remember how it started, but within 2 months of 12^th standard, Laya and I were deeply in love with each other. Not one night passed without hearing the other person’s voice. Not one recess passed without us walking in the corridor hand in hand. Her presence was true ecstasy. It was beautiful!

We were welcomed by Arun’s father at the door. Arun - my 4 year old daughter’s best friend had borrowed my child for the weekend and I was there that evening to pick her up. The children were still playing inside as we made conversation with our host and Arun’s mother entered the hall to serve tea. I saw her face – the ever beautiful Laya – and was pulled back to the last day of school.

“We have to end this.” Her words literally stabbed me; the pain was tangible. Before I could object she poured out her stories of a practical life and the impossibilities of being together, of how school was not life and why people had to move on… why it was imminent that I forget her.

My daughter ran up to me and jumped on to my lap. She rested her face on my chest and I patted her head. They asked us to stay for dinner but I had to refuse. “We have already booked a table at Taj”, I informed them. My wife thanked them for their hospitality and we got up. As we walked out, I turned around to look at our hostess – Laya.

When all your hopes and dreams are shattered, there is absolute darkness around. The mystery of future begins to choke you, suffocate you. Everything I thought that would happen had died, my love, my life… what lay ahead was absolute darkness. The pain of losing Laya made me drown deeper into the darkness; the darkness aggravated my pain. Those days – it seemed as if everything was finished!

After fifteen years I looked back. I put my arm around my wife and held her close to me, kissed my daughter’s cheek, got into my car and looked back at Laya – and smiled. I did not hate her, I didn’t care what she made in life, but as the CEO of an MNC, the husband of a wonderful, loving woman - I had made something big in life. And that smile – Bloody Blundaleomite, it was totally worth the pain.

An angel once told me, “If you want the pain to go away, you have to forgive her.” I protested, “I can’t forgive her. I hate her. I want to avenge her.” The angel consoled me, “Yes, you must have you vengeance. I only asked u to forgive her. Forgive… But Never Forget! The pain you had, it must sting you every day… and force you to make it big in life. And one day, you will ride the most expensive car, wear the most expensive dress, hold on to the most loving family and that life will be your revenge to every ounce of pain you ever had. Never forget!”

A Drop of Honey

“What non-sense is this? Have you got no brains you lazy fool!?” Bloody Blundaleomite.

That was what was happening between myself and my manager when I received the news – something which almost made even my manager’s words sound sweet! “Bro, we haven’t paid the electricity bill for the past six months! The department has disconnected our service it seems.” Middle of summer in Chennai with exams right around the corner – not a good time to be out of electricity. After another round of merciless tirade by my boss, I walked back into the hell-hole of a home of mine. Yes, hell-hole. Dark, sultry, suffocating pit of doom. The Azkaban of a room brought me down from “wannabe macho” to “Miss you mummy!”

There is this story quoted in the book “The Great Indian Novel” about a man who is being chased by a lion in a forest. He runs up a tree to escape the lion, but the branches crack and the tree slowly bends over. It is only seconds before the tree falls and the man turns into a lion’s buffet that he notices a leaf at the end of the branch with a drop of honey stuck on it. What does the man do now? He plucks the leaf and sips the drop of honey.

My roommate decided to crash at his cousins place, leaving me behind. Hungry, sweaty, dark, frustrated, tensed (frustrated because of the day I had and tensed about the days ahead of me), worried about studies and all alone, I made my way to the terrace of my apartments and lay down over there, gazing at the stars. A young breeze that carried with it the message of oncoming monsoon swept past me. And I tasted a drop of honey.

When life gives you a thousand reasons to cry, you still have one reason to fight your tears and laugh out loud. In a few minutes I am going to publish this blog and post the news on Facebook and a thousand people are going to ignore the post. But one angel will open the link and read it through. And say, “I loved it!” One drop of honey for me, and that alone is enough to drive me till next Thursday to put up my next post. And this drop of honey will be stuck on some leaf, here and there, in the form of a ping on gtalk, in the form of a breeze – a real super-hero to save the day. Look around you as you read this story and find out that drop of honey. Sip it. Enjoy!

2 cups

“You have two cups before you my child. One which promises infinite wealth and power; and the other that grants heavenly wisdom and knowledge. Choose the path which will take you to eternal glory”

Choice! It has always been a naughty child. The fork which makes a poet sing with a sigh about the road not taken. Choice, the river of regrets and sorrow on one side, an ocean of mystery and hope on the other. But the most prominent feature, or I would say what defines this words - this phenomena, inevitable in life, is that it sheds a shadow of sacrifice every time you come across it. My profession asks me to call it opportunity cost. My peers call it, “WHAT THE DAMN HELL?”

Seriously! I mean Goddess Lakshmi was indeed playing a nasty trick when she asked Mr. Tenali to choose between wealth and wisdom. “How am I supposed to protect my wealth without wisdom or knowledge? And what use is wisdom to me if I cannot earn riches out of it?” Well said Mr. Tenali. You should have actually asked the question right across the Goddess’ face.

Engineer or Doctor? B.com or CPT? Girlfriend or studies (Bloody Blundaleomite, I am in serious trouble if my mother notices this)? Yes, my friends, annoying questions poking at you in every nook and cranny of your life. And sadly most choices are not as interesting as “Ini en patha…. Singa Patha!” (Rajnikanth in Sivaji the Boss). Yes, my friends – it is yet another of those crazy wordly phenomena – Choice, to drink out of one out of the two cups.

That my friends, what you just read above, is one way of narrating the story. But your humble writer does not want to shed light into the brutality of the world which I feel you are already aware of (atleast I am). In this blog I want to paint the picture of how magical this world is. I want to tell you that fairies and unicorns and pixies are not just a figment of anybody’s imagination. They exist – they live right around the corner of your street. Otherwise how else could the law be twisted so maliciously. How else will you explain – “I choose to choose both”. Haha… Tenali at his ingenious best when he tricks the Goddess by asking, “Will you please let me taste both the cups before I make my choice” and ends up drinking both cups!

It is rather challenging. It is harder than anything else, but to choose BOTH is always a choice. Girlfriend AND Studies. B.Com AND CPT. Engineering AND Medicine, well, that is not exactly possible – but, I want to make a point here. Life is not about the road not taken, it is about the dexterity to take both roads. How to do that is a riddle you have to solve? CA exams around the corner and me writing a blog – I am having a sip out of both cups.