Kar ke dekho, achcha lagta hai…

I stopped writing 16 days before I was scheduled to marry. 13^th October, 2011 was the last day when I penned my feelings. Since then Heena has been driving my life smoothly within permissible limit of speed. There were few speed breakers and road blocks in the journey but we managed to drive our vehicle for three years with acceptable maintenance cost and a loyalty bonus in the form of my son, Suhaan. Leaving aside Heena and workplace obligations for a moment, I planned to write today.

The topic of group discussion for my admission to IRMA was, “Should youth be allowed to marry according to their will”? Interesting question to which nobody in this world, dead or alive has correct answer. People may have firm opinions but no correct answer. Those who are scheduled to marry in the near future often ask me, “Is getting married a right decision”? Being a management student, I have developed a habit of not giving straight answers and I say -“It depends”.

By nature I am an elastic person offering very low and sometimes no resistance to what has been happening to my life. Four years back mom repeated famous dialogue of Indian mothers, “beta shadi kar le”. Indian dudes are used to this question which they often ignore. Those who have already shortlisted their life partner become conscious and get juicy content for emotional discussion with partners for a month. Being less of a dude I was slated to marry with a girl whom my mom selects for me. As getting married under 28 is out of fashion I chose to ignore the question. Ignorance is not always bliss and led to another pestering of question, “tune koi dhoond li hai to bata de”? Believe me mom, I do not have adequate looks and skills for achieving this feat.

The elasticity in me could not resist more and finally Bahoo Dhoondo Abhiyaan was launched in the leadership of mom. Two different teams were divided for the task. One team was led by mom and the other was led by Didi. Mom’s team was big enough as the objective was to search bahoo from outside Saharanpur (my home town).  Didi’s team was small with Jijaji being the only member of it.

In India, all the bahoo dhoondo abhiyaans in the past have been a great failure. The reason being the leader of these abhiyaans is always under the impression that her son is best in the world and deserves nothing less than the best. This is the only Abhiyaan in India which is launched in every household even after getting miserably failed. To my luck, good or bad yet to be decided, I was spotted my in-laws and I was finally married to Heena on 29^th October’2011.

Leaving aside Heena and workplace obligations for a moment I planned to write today but the thing is I cannot leave Heena aside even for a moment and ended up writing a piece more or less related to her.

Close to three years down the line…I would answer the question often asked by those who are scheduled to marry in the near future, “Kar ke dekho achcha lagta hai”.

Happily married…J

El álbum de ACE

In April this year, Edulever partnered with ITC Ltd. in Saharanpur to conduct a feasibility study for a setting up a vocational training center. The three-month study by the Edulever team involved a household survey of over 1000 households in Saharanpur, focused group discussions, and interviews with prospective employers in and around Saharanpur.

Based on the recommendations of the survey, we launched the Agrasar Center for Employability in Saharanpur in September, after a fortnight of intensive mobilization. The center is being implemented by the Agrasar team (Agrasar is an offspring of Edulever), with support from Quest Alliance and ITC. The center completed a month yesterday (on Oct 12)...and we thought this was the right time to share our journey on this blog...  

Feasibility Study-Market Scan (May 2011)

 Focused Group Discussion with Youth of Saharanpur

 Focused Group Discussion with Parents of Saharanpur

 The center in Saharanpur (before the inauguration)

 Mobilisation for the First Batch

 Inauguration - September 9, 2011

 And then there was light...

 Courseware developed by Edulever launched by the ITC TEAM

 Classroom Sessions in progress

 The TEAM

........Until 14th April

All my life I've been harassed.........Harassed day in and day out.........Harassed for no reason, all four season..........Harassed for doing and not doing as well.

Man fools himself, more than he fools others.
Is it?
Yes... I repeat.... Man fools himself, more than he fools others.

This very line summarizes why I was harassed.
No...No...No...
Not "why" I was harassed but "How" I was harassed.

I kept on fooling my own self for all the gone years, since time memorial.
The most intriguing question of childhood times is…

“What do you want to become in life?”

To my surprise and wondering, each kid had an answer to this toughest question of all times. The question remains unchanged until a child transforms into an adult i.e. passing/failing tenth class exams.

I lately was informed that the question was a multiple choices, and the choices are:
A) Doctor
B) Engineer
C) Prime Minister/President
D) Teacher
E) Sportsperson
F) Army/Police Personnel

Instructions:
1) The Question and choices remains unchanged irrespective of the class you are studying in.
2) You are bound to answer.
3) If you have no answer you are shit and subject of humiliation.

With due respect sir/ma’am I accept being shit, since I have no answer.
This question on the very first day of each standard made me pseudo patient. Just to avoid the question and being shit again, I would lay my head down on the table pretending too ill to be disturbed for a repetitive question.

I escaped the question 27 years (to be honest) fooling everyone and myself as well….but what remains unchanged is …I still remains shit…… without answer to the question.

I was damn sure that none of my counterparts then had the real answer to the question but still they answered it….simply not to choose being shit. The point is they had an answer. No matter the answer changed every year. But they still had an answer.

The lady whom I admire most after momy was Geetanjali Joshi, whom we used to call her Joshi ma’am, an excellent Science and English teacher. I remember, she asked me the same question and I was again answerless. But when Joshi Ma’am asks a question you cannot choose not to answer, you cannot pretend to be ill, wet your pant she doesn't bother, you have to answer.

I could not answer the question even after allotted time. Head was down with the shame; a tear rolling inside eyelids refusing to drop down, such was the horror of Joshi Ma’am. The devil approached; my heart stopped pumping.... paralyzing me to unconsciousness. She raised her hand to its limit and landed on my head…softly.... to my surprise. Just like moms hand on my head lulls me to sleep.

Words of wisdom poured in from the mouth of devil, “Beta I am not seeking for the answer. What I want from all of you is to think about your future and start making decisions. No answer is correct and no answer is wrong. You are in such a tender age that you can change your answer every day till the final call comes. Have aim.”

Hand lifted up from the head and rested back in the pocket of her overcoat. Tears came rolling down happily. I escaped once again. I remember her words by heart, but never thought off to decipher the meaning. That’s precisely the reason I am still aimless. I am still to find the answer. How long will it take, again I don’t have an answer.

Harassment Continued.... Until 14th April, the day I joined EDULEVER.

You say I am feeling low today

"Remember when you failed an examination. How many people recall that, your class, friends, relatives? You failed to make it to the IITs or IIMs. Who remembers. How many times have you had the feeling of being the best in your class, school , university, state….., you failed to get a visa stamped this quarter…, you missed a promotion this year…, how did it feel when you dad told you in your early twenties that you are good for nothing…..and now your boss tell you the same... You keep introspecting and go into a shell when people most of whom don’t matter a dime in your life criticize you, back bite you, make fun of you. You are left sad and shattered and you cry when your own kin scoffs at you. You say I am feeling low today. It takes a lot from us to come out of these everyday situations and move on. A lot??? really? Now here’s a man standing on the third man boundary in the last over of a world cup match. The bowler just has to bowl sensibly to win this game. What the man at the boundary sees is 4 rank bad bowls bowled without any sense of focus, planning or regret. India loses, yet again in those circumstances when he has done just about everything right. He does not cry. Does not show any emotion. Just keeps his head down and leaves the field. He has seen these failures for 22 years now. And not just his class, relatives, friends but the whole world has seen these failures. We are too immature to even imagine what goes on in that mind and heart of his. That’s why I would never want to be Sachin. True, he has single handedly lifted to moods of this entire nation umpteen number of times. He has been an inspiration to rise above our mediocrity. Nobody who has ever lifted the willow even comes close to this man’s genius. His dedication and metal strength is unparallel. This is specially for those people who would have made fun of him again last night when India lost. They are people who are mediocre in their own lives. Who just scoff at others to create cheap fun. Who have lived in a small hole throughout their lives and thought they have seen the oceans. Think about the man himself. He is 37 years of age. He has been playing almost non stop for 22 years. The way he was running and diving around the field last night would have put 22 year olds to shame. The way he played the best opening quickies in the world was breathtaking. He just keeps getting better which is by the way humanly impossible. Its not for nothing that people call him GOD. But still I don’t want to be in those shoes. We struggle in keeping our monotonous lives straight, lives which affect a limited number of people. Imagine what would be the magnitude of the inner struggle for him, pain both mental and physical, tears that have frozen with time, knees and ankles and every other joint in the body that is either bandaged or needs to be attended to every night, eyes that don’t sleep before a big game, bats that have scored 99 international tons and still see expectations from a billion people. And he just converts those expectations into reality. We watch in awe, feel privileged. Well I think its time that his team realizes that enough is enough. They have an obligation, not towards their country alone but towards sachin. They need to win this one for him. Stay assured that he himself will still deliver and leave no stone unturned to make sure India wins this cup. This is not just a game, and he is not just a sportsman. Its much more than this. Words fail here..."
-Harsha Bhogle

Happy Republic day

Yeh woh desh hai jahan Pizza ghar pe jaldi aata hai but ambulance and police will never...

Car Loan is 5%...Education loan is 12%

Yeh woh desh hai jahan rice is Rs 40 per kg hai aur Sim card is Rs 5 with Talktimeof Rs 50/-..

Yeh woh desh hai jahan log tea stall par newspaper mein child labour k bare mein padh kar kehte hai," yaar bachose kaam karwane walon ko to faansi pe chadha dena chahiye"aur awaaj detein hai, oye chote teen chai laa"

Incredible India...Happy republic day
Forwarded SMS...

Saleem-“The Remote Cover Seller”

Having nothing much serious to do on the holiday, makes me think. Recollect memories from the past-good, bad and ugly….and feel the feeling. Some silent smiles and some tears of remembrance of old days. Some incidence never leave you and frequently keep daunting.

Over the time, I developed a bad habit of sharing painful moments. Another bad habit which I posses (this one being transferred with gene), is pondering and disturbing myself for heart touching moments. I know writing here won’t help the cause, but certainly I feel relaxed after sharing with you all. (I don’t know how many would, read this-think upon- reflect.)

Here goes yet another scene, which awakes me in the midnight and compels to pen it down. Pen it down, for people to think, not only think-feel it, not only feel it-act upon it.

I am missing name of the only protagonist- sign of ageing, you see.
Will that reduce the impact? I fear.

Okey- let us name the kid, the protagonist to make it easier. We will call him Saleem. The name has nothing to do with Salman Rushdie’s Saleem Sinai of Midnight’s Children.

The incidence occurred on the same date on which my previous blog, “What makes mad, glad and sad” occurred (If you have read it). The bad day- nothing went right. I’ll skip the name of city in this one, for we have tendency to associate geography and demography with behavioral issues. Often these associations end up with false attributions which further degrade moral values and bring us closer to being an animal.

Forget it- considering we are busy individuals, with less time to read, why others are disturbed in sleep at mid of night, I’ll try to keep it short.

Coming straight to the point- Saleem is a kid of not more than 12 years of age. He sells plastic remote covers. Remote that controls television. Remote cover that protects remote- from the naughty kids in every home and angry adults, who throw every household things in anger. Never thought our anger would earn bread for someone. I do not know the background, why he used to do the pity job in the school hours. This means he is not going to school like many others of his age group, whom we call child labour.

While we were enjoying famous chaat at a famous spot, a voice just as pleasant as that of a humming bird wanted our attention. The voice of god- the voice reminds me of a famous hindi song which sings, “Bacche mann k sacche”- Kids are pure at heart. You have to be a devil to ignore the voice.

The voice belongs to Saleem. Saleem- “The Remote Cover Seller”.

Many of us, the frequent visitors of this famous spot were familiar with Saleem and Saleem also knew them all. Saleem was too naïve to understand that no one would buy “Remote cover” on daily basis. Whenever he see my friends in the market, he will try to make a deal. Abhishek was huge admirer of this kid.

Abhishek used to talk with Saleem politely-sign of civilized man, and say, “Beta kal hi to liya tha”.

Saleem would pester, “ Bhaiya ek aur le lo…please le lo bhaiya…le lo na bhaiya please….please bhaiya”.

We have often seen small kids selling things which are useless to us. But some of us who carry slightly softer heart would purchase these useless things, just to make the kid happy. Abhishek belongs to the same caste of people- with softer heart.

In the midst of all this, Abhishek told me that he had already purchased two from him. I asked why two?

“ le lo na bhaiya please…teen din se ek bhi nahi bika”

He told me- "Brother, once I purchased it and this kid approached me next time also selling me the same remote cover. Second time when he approached me, I offered him ten rupees. But he refused to take the money unless remote cover is purchased".

I was surprised that even in this poor state of life; Saleem has moral values intact. Is’nt this amazing? The respect for this kid multiplied in my heart. There is something for us to learn from this kid.

“Bhaiya pppplease bhaiya”- he kept humming in the background.

Abhishek challenged us to test the self respect of Saleem. Last time kid sold Abhishek his first remote cover was two months back. We offered Saleem, ten rupees again but not purchasing remote cover.

But this time, he hesitantly accepted. Abhishek was shocked. How can Saleem change in just two months? The hero Saleem- became ordinary to me with the acceptance of ten rupee note.

In between tasty chaat and useless talks, we missed one line from the humming bird.

“Bhaiya teen din se ek bhi nahi bika”


OMG-He was unable to sell even a single piece in last three, which broke him down. Who is responsible for this?

Do we have an answer, certainly NO.

Self respect shattered, kid brought up with the moral values passed on to him from parents- for he has no teacher. But the ugly life has taught him how to survive in the world. Forget about values when there is no food in the stomach.

We can offer him food, I said.

Saleem has somebody back home who is waiting for his return with the money.
Ask yourself, What would you do, when someone back home is waiting for you?
Often I see status on facebook regarding, “Delhi vendors and beggars, on traffic signals”, people hate them.

But the question remains unanswered, Who is responsible for this?

Saleem is unfortunate to have born in a poor family. We have not done anything remarkable to get birth in a well to do family. It is by chance.

Many of us will forget this after reading, we are used to it. And also we sadly do not have "Like button" which shows a "sign of thumbs up", here on blogs unlike FB. We press the "like button" and our moral responsiblity ends there.

Please share your views...who knows when our thoughts become our action..

Next time when you meet some Saleem, Atleast do not hate him.

He who rejects change is the architect of decay

Never thought leaving first job would be as joyful as getting it. 20 months of donkey work, 4 bosses including one female and 3 posting took me to understand that this is not my cup of tea. Tracing back to my IRMA days, I find myself as an aimless fellow lost in the world of highly competent people. I participated in the campus placement without any plans in mind and 2009 being recession year, there were not many options as well to think upon.

Finally I got through an interview, with a job in hand and decent salary to keep my head high in eyes of near and dear ones who expect heights from me. These 20 months I have been thinking the turns life took without even giving me the hint of where it is taking me.

Certainly things didn’t go my way. Mom always used to say, “God is a better planner than all of us”. Taking her words of wisdom, I always accepted every change. Often I was reminded by close friends that I am compromising with my likings, and that I am not trying hard to achieve my likings. (..These friends always make you feel extra special and achiever).

God has been kind in these 26 years.

2003 was the major turn.
A place which I hated the most in first few days of my stay there, for it was the place I was forced in. I wanted my chance to prove my capabilty of passing medical entrance. But parents denied. Ironically, here I meet with most lively people probably the best in the world. An unpredictable but innocent room partner, gang of cool dudes, caring sister, crispy Aaloo paratha and old profs. A place where people just 365 days older or sometimes at par with you in age will treat you as his/her own son/daughter, a place where you will be treated as parents by your juniors, a place where you will not be allowed to spend your money when seniors are with you. The only way you greet people is, “Sir/Ma’am”. Either you are referred to or you have to refer. The place is undoubtedly Pantnagar. For the first time in life I felt my presence and importance of existence in this world.

They say parents are next to God……………………….Eq 1
Mom says, “God is better planner than all of us”….Eq 2
Eq1+Eq2, Parents are God and they are better planner for us.

I am happy today that I was denied my chance to become a doctor.
“Change always comes bearing gifts”- ~Price Pritchett


Next year I found my interest and starting dreaming myself as researcher. I started rigorous preparation for research scholarship in horticulture and this continued for 30 months. Profs were sure, friends were sure and I was sure of success. But again there was a “turn” completely unseen, unnoticed and dream shattering. Dad wanted his son to be MBA and earn quick money. I respected his feelings. For a smile on his face, I can pay anything.

Confused…….Bemused…Baffled.

Friends say it needs smart and good preparation for decent MBA College for which you need atleast six months if your brain is of premium quality. My being average brain would take 2 years if not more to prepare. The only time left for me was 30 days of semester break during which I could have prepared for MBA. Data Interpretation, Logical reasoning, English comprehension was altogether different from Seed rate, varieties, species, scientific names and chromosome number of crops. Two books of Rs 630/-, borrowed material of Career Launcher (CL) from room partner, guidance of friends and silent tears in toilet was all with which I aimed at cracking MBA exams.

Those 30 days, I have to study horticulture also, for it was my liking and 3.5 years of preparation which would go waste if I do not revise. I decided to study 18 hours a day, 15 hours for MBA preparation and 3 hours for horticulture. This was too much of asking from an ass like me. But I did it without fail.

Result of SNAP was out, which I did not gave. Many of us got good ranks and were sure of getting seats. I was doubtful of my success in MBA exams, hence went back to my horticulture thing. Ritesh (aka Harry Potter, Raute) was anxious enough for next result to come was of his dream institute, IRMA. I hardly had any clue of what this college is all about. One good after noon, he came hopping searching for me, barking like a dog. And the good news of my selection in IRMA was out. I enjoyed 2 years of learning and fun at IRMA.

I am happy today that I was denied my chance to become a research scholar.