Some Learning’s of my life.

I write this article for ISM Literary club (ISMLC). Would like to thank Abhishek , Zeeshan and others to give me a opportunity to write on this group. Really excited to see an active group like this does exists.  I will try to be short and crisp below.

It was a vacation time and I happen to join my family at my in-laws place in Jaipur last month. During one of the conversation my Brother-in-law asked my seven year old son, what he would like to become when he grows up. The answer was “ Papa would like me to become a doctor or a engineer, I know no body becomes that just like that, I need to study hard for that but one thing is sure I want be become Happy when I grow”.  We all were stunned and went into a shell of thoughts on a very important life lesson we just heard form a 7 year old kid. 

We all have ambitions and fair share of success and failures. I do not intend to be preachy here but want to say some learning from my life so far.

1. Thanks to the new world we are in, there are plenty of opportunities for everyone. For sure our parents have seen a tougher life in terms of opportunities open for them.
2. This new world has whole lot of comforts but than we do have our own set of problems too. My generation is just somewhere in middle of what the parents of ISMLC and the members are. Hence I know when your parents say that you have all the comforts in life which they did not have you can very well argue that you have a different set of problems to tackle with.
3. Uniqueness of Idea is too difficult to come hence are at big premium.  If you thought you have a very unique new idea, just check it out some one has worked volumes on it already. If other guys were not successful it does not mean that you will also fail in it.
4. With hard work you are likely to get luckier but then you need to stop comparing your luck with others. Need to accept disproportionate distribution of luck, world is like that only.
5. It’s important to love the work you do for earning your bread but do cultivate lots of hobby so that in your life you never retire.   

These were purely my observations and learning in life, I am not too old to conclude this list hence it is growing. I am not too young to not have my won five points of learning.

Looking forward from the younger group to get some feedback and learn some from your learning’s.

Dinwa – A story that never began

It was a warm Sunday morning when I saw four gloomy people carrying a charpoy to the hut settlement near our house. Sun was still in its yellow hue. Birds chirping made it a perfect summer morning except for the wailing of an old lady now clearly crossing her eightieth year of existence. Bearers of the charpoy were of all sizes, from healthy and stout to lean and thin were carrying the still body of Dinwa covered in a tattered piece of rag, in such a bad shape that dare I call it a cloth.

What should have been the perfect summer morning of 1980’s clearly turned out to be a really bad start. I was too young but this one scene is yet engraved in my memory as if it was just yesterday. The wailing from the old lady was too shrill to be silenced even today. She was Dinwa’s grandmother and only surviving close blood relative alive. Probably Dinwa was the one for whom she survived so long even after seeing so many deaths and sorrow.

For lively hood she used to sell vegetables which she bought and mostly borrowed from the relatives and neighbours, all staying in the same hutment. Entire area belonged to a community called “Khatik” , who were primarily involved in business of selling vegetables.

We were not too fond of the old lady as kids. While we played gully cricket and did many a times hit the ball near the huts, first house belonged to Dinwa and his grandmother. She used to hurl abuse and never used to return the ball back to us. I surely do not remember how many we lost to her. On some rare occasion Dinwa did join us for the game and those were the days we were sure that we will not lose our ball to anyone.

I distinctly remember one of my encounters with the old lady. One of a distant relative or may be close one, I did not care about that, had send her a letter, post card to be precise. I happened to be passing by and she caught hold of me to read the contents. All the possible ladies from the neighbourhood surrounded me as we all settled on the neatly laid mud and cow dung spread floor. What happened there after is an embarrassment I did live for long. The letter was written in Hindi with the worst possible handwriting in the world. I am sure though the script was Hindi the dialect must have been Bhojpuri. The net result was I could not read a word out of it. They were amazed at my capabilities or non-capabilities to be precise. I could see giggles from them while covering the mouth with the end of their sari’s pallu. Some also commented on what I do in my school, worst was when one said “Pass toh hota hai na!”.

In days to come I had to walk with my eyes dug deep in the earth as if trying to find an escape route, whenever I used to cross the hut area. It was difficult to avoid that route as it was my normal thoroughfare. The alternative route was three times longer but I do remember I used to take that whenever possible.

It would have been in my first decade of existence and Dinwa must have been a couple of years older to me. Within minutes all possible acquaintance in the neighbourhood around and grouped some wailing and others comforting. I did have a balcony view of entire proceedings from the third floor and comforts of my house. They had put a round belied pot near the charpoy with a scented white fume emitting overdose. Some of that smell did meet my nostrils and I have that lingering smell still coming to me whenever Dinwa’s name flashes in my memory.

Dinwa was a meek and fragile, boy of few words. I do remember asking Dinwa one day “What would you like to become when you grow up”. Probably the most common question we undergo as a part of all our childhood rituals. He told me something which was one big lesson for me those days “First I am not sure if I will live long enough to grow”. I was too small to think about death, I do not think Dinwa was too old for these words of wisdom either.

It was for the first time in my life I was confronting death that close and that to a death of a person who was so close to my age. That time of my life immortality was what I thought is the reality. Dinwa was suffering from mysterious illness of which nobody had a clue. I do not think they had resources to get it diagnosed forget about getting it treated.

After few hours it was time for Dinwa to embark on his final journey, now draped in a shinny white sheet of cloth. Finally he did get the best and brand new piece of cloth before his mortal remains were taken care of. Later I heard that he was buried, as a young unmarried youth are not cremated. The grandmother did not survive for long after that and in about a year’s time she too departed to join Dinwa and take care of him again.

I did visit my old house few years ago. Now there is a big mansion standing right where Dinwa’s hut was. The smell of the earth has been erased forever. To me this mansion is just a monument in tribute to Dinwa.

All along my story I have spelled his name as Dinwa, but quite honestly his name was to be spelled as Deenwa – The poor one or the misfortunate one. It comes out of word Deen and the last part ‘wa’ is added to any name in that part of the world, for that matter I am “Sandeepwa”. I wonder what made his parents think about this name; his fate did live to his name for sure.

I do not know if any of my siblings or friends will remember him. I wonder how many of his relatives and neighbours would do the same. Form me he was a special life teacher. I feel bit relieved that after so many years that have passed by I could pen down at least a small percentage of my feelings.

However small and insignificant we may be but we do impact life of people around us.

I had written this story in my diary quite some time ago, I was inspired to share this and put on my blog after editing it a bit when I happen to revisit this few days ago. I just realized I do have some more collections of similar story though not so gloomy, will wait for another inspiration to share some of them.

Chand Kavitaye

So I am trying to put few of my poetry here now. The first one I have specifically chosen. This poetry doubles up as a disclaimer as well as guideline to read any further. Honestly I do not have a good vocabulary nor too good even in spellings hence hope that you will be bit liberal with those while reading though you should point it out to me for my corrections.

So here goes the first one:

माना की गुस्ताकी की है पर हौसला तो देखिये
माना की दम जुदा हे पर जस्बात तो देखिये

छिपा छिपा कर जो सजोये थे जो जस्बात मेने
उनको जो बताया तोह यह बवाल तो देखिये .

लबो को सिलने से तूफान कही थमा नहीं
उबर के आया तो यह इत्मिनान तो देखिये

उड़ने की क्या कोई परिभाषा होती हे ?
कोशिश की तो यह अहसास तो देखिये

कौन कहता है पानी आग को है बुझाता
जो जलाये तो वोह जलन तो देखिये

Second one finds its place here only for the matter of convenience as this was already converted in Devanagari script. Little background for this poem. I did go almost out of the city on a business call on the eve of "Id" and happen to see the sun hiding behind the beautiful clouds. I did click a photo(one at the top) and then "Id", Sun,clouds and for sure the mood did play a role in this:

खबरे कुछ नासाज है मनो खुशियों ने रोजा है रखा

आज जब यह आफ़ताब (Sun ) डूबेगा तो शायद मौला बोलेंगे इद मुबारक

शायद बादल के पीछे छिपा होगा हमारा इद का चाँद

सब जानते है मौला , की जरूर होगा यह आपना चाँद

यह तो नक्की है की छंटेंगे दुखो के बादल खुशियों के बूँद बन कर टपकेंगे यह ही बादल

मौका है दस्तूर है की हम याद करे तुम्हे ए खुदा

दुखो की शायद यह ही है वजह ए खुदा

सुना है मौला ने बोला है की इद आने को है

आज नहीं तोह कल बस अब ईद आने को है

मुश्कील है यह इन्तेजार ए आफ़ताब

और न सताओ क्योकि इद आने को है .

Now the last one for now. The inspiration was a coconut tree which is visible from my office. It did coincided with some new ideas I was working on. Not to mention the weather was too good too then. Hence this is the result :

आज मेने पेड़ो पर कुछ मंजर देखा था
नाजुक कोमल सी मंजर हवा में खिलखिलाते देखा था

मौसम ने भी न जाने क्यों कुछ सुनी थी इसकी बाते
कुछ बूंदे कुछ बादल और कुछ रेशमी धुप मेने देखा था

निसानी है कुछ नए मीठे फल पकने के
हाँ ऐसा तोह रात खवाबो मैं भी देखा था

सारे मंजर फल न बने तोह क्या
सरे ख़यालात पुचक न पाए तोह क्या
ख़ुशी है की आज मेने पेड़ो पर मंजर देखा था

I have been writing almost one or more a day. This way I could end up putting up a entire volume soon. Some of my friends who have been reading have been already jokingly said the same. I am glad that they do correct me a lot many times and have been very encouraging, so I have decided that will write on them too some times.

Please do post your comments as I said I am OK with any comments.

Poems

Recently I have started to pen down some poems in Hindi and Urdu mix. Will be posting some of them on the blog soon. Honestly it did required lot of introspection before gathering enough courage to do so. Hence I am now quite ready to take praises and criticism both. Since I personally of a view that I need a lot of improvement hence criticism is what I surely reading.

Ability to Walk on our Own

I guess the ability to walk on our own and move around is one of the biggest gifts of God. I could only realise the same when I met with an accident about thirteen years ago and almost lost my lost my right leg knee down. I distinctly remember the doctor in the emergency section telling after examining my leg that I might be taken to Operation Theatre to fix the leg if things demand so. I was on sedative and luckily things did not go worst from there and I was released from the hospital with a plaster. Later the same doctor confided me that he meant amputation of the leg .Six month on bed made me realise the value of mobility and respect for leg. Finally the doctor told me in his final comments that I might not be able to run all my life and finally when the knee has a massive wear and tear I have to get my knee replaced. I have pulled thru these thirteen years and feel that could take it till another thirteen but the background of fear of getting thru all those pain again haunts me still. Probably the best part of the whole thing was that I used to share my physiotherapist with a Ex prime minister of India and so many times lying down in opposite bed and the physiotherapist inflicting pain alternatively to both of us. Did have some short conversations with him too, I particularly remember the Doctor mentioning to him that I was very brave and was doing extremely well with the treatment.

All this flash back came back haunting to me. I am associated with an organisation which is a community driven but has an intense urge to do lot of social work. Recently they announced a free distribution of Jaipur foot. This is a brilliant indigenous innovation which provides mobility to people with amputated legs.

Process started with involving a PR agency to get the news covered in all the vernacular and English dailies of south India. What followed next was an amazing experience. We did receive near to 300 applications for getting free Jaipur feet. While seeing at the application we could see people from across all age groups, male and females, religion and caste. It was heartening to note that we would be able to help so many people at the same time it surprised us that so many helpless people did exist waiting for help.

The camp was divided in two days First was to get the proper measurements so that the exact size could be delivered after a month. Let me sum few of the cases in these two days typically on the final delivery day which I could remember for all my life.

We had a small girl aged 2 years old who had lost her both parents in the accident and lost one of her legs too, was present on the venue with one of her distant relative. Anybody could tell that she had barely learned to walk before loosening her leg. She howled when the technicians tried to fix the leg and tried to walk her around. To this day this scene hounds me and brings me a lot of discomfort. The distant relatives inquired if we could sponsor her education too, immediately there was chaos amongst volunteers to step in to pitch in individually. The commotion subsided with President mentioning that we as a community can do this and everybody can contribute to that fund. You can’t imagine how proud I feel to be part of these people who can ready to fight for helping people.

Another case was of young lad who was a auto driver again lost his right foot to the accident. He just could not imagine that he can walk almost as well as he could earlier. He came with a request if we can give him a certificate which enables him to drive his auto again. To the dismay of all we could not do that. What was heartening to note was that within hours his life was changed and he had optimism to lead a normal life, a reward no less for all of us.

There are lot of cases to and all individual more than 200 case is worth mentioning here but I will need to truncate this before mentioning one last one full of life and optimism to end this. The chief technician whom we got was from Erode and since early child hood he has managed his life with this brilliant indigenous support mechanism. He leads a very normal life, can run and is more active than most of us. What is heartening is he did not stop here and went ahead with the mission to provide the same liberation from a handicap he had when he was provide with his support system. All the patients he used to treat got a lot of confidence from him. A permanent fixed smile on his face did convey a lot about him to all of us.

We did have people from all possible cross section of society. Yes, even people who could have afforded it on their own where also there, I guess because it is more for the right place then right price.

I am extremely proud of being part of this bunch of people who make this organisation called KMS (Karnataka Marwari Samaj). The enthusiasm to help people and to even get angry if they are not able to contribute to their hearts content amazes me.

What more to say, I am sure by this yearly program we can reduce if not eradicate pains of few people.

Is Strength your weakness & Threat an Opportunity?

Something that puzzles me is the so called SWOT (Strength Weakness Opportunity Threat) analysis from the time it had been introduced to my mind. Initially feeling of “Wow” soon turned into just confusions.

My brush with SWOT started all again when someone in his gyan session asked me to do my own analysis. I ended up with almost similar entries in all the columns and hence Strength was a weakness and so it was a threat and occasionally it figured in opportunity. The fun was that it also almost ran similarly in opposite direction. Probably an example will give you a better insight into where I was.

Once on the weakness I wrote “anger” and almost immediately it became quite obvious to me that it should figure out in strength as I thought that some time it’s good to have that. Once I came to threat, I just can’t ignore the fact that it owes a space here too. On the opportunity column I wrote “Controlled anger”. Hence finally “anger” made its way to all the four columns.

Few months ago few MBA students wanted to do a marketing related project on our company. I knew that they will be doing a SWOT and was quite keen to see the result. Finally once they finished the draft project and showed it to me, I couldn’t resist going to SWOT page almost immediately. I can tell you that these people were equally confused like me but they had carefully and painfully tried to find different nomenclature for the same terms. I too started to further confuse them and took up some weakness and started reasoning out to be in strength column and then on threat and so on and so forth.

Finally my conclusion is that I am able to understand poet Kabir’s couplet finally now:

Nindak niyare rakhiye aangan kuti chhawaye;
Bin sabun pani bina nirmal karat subhaye.

(Keep critics near you in your backyard for they will help you cleanse yourself without soap and water)

Probably this is the best way to work on your SWOT analysis because once you make it yourself you are heavily biased, when someone who do not understand you does it for you knows nothing and makes it a futile exercise. Hence it’s important to keep a critic who understands you and gives his unbiased opinions. Not an easy job to find one, & certainly not easier to hear criticism but that’s what SWAT is all about.