People

Cochin In First Person !

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I have been in Kochi or Cochin for the past three days. Am writing this through the balckberry ! Thats something that am doing new !

From air, Cochin looks so beautiful. Green seems to be de-rigueur. On landing, there still is green. I have been here before. I realise i have been missing this place !

Through the taxi’s windscreen, i still see green. But now, green is interspersed with large hoardings calling you to loosen your purse strings and buy either jewelry or an apartment !

There are so many hoardings for Jewelry and Apartment complexes that it bewilders me. ‘Gullff money’ says the van driver. I want to believe him. ‘We are a 100 % literate state’ he says. I smile. A weak smile.

Through the window, I read the names on the stores. Keralites have some ‘different’ names. Between a Joe, Joy and Jose they seem to have covered up the commercial establishment. I count four stores for each name, within a space of two streets. The Keralite J!

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We are on a backwater boat ride. Our guide takes us through some ‘interesting’ places. He calls. Our boats stop at villages, where few folks demonstrate toddy tapping, rope making etc. Having seen such & similar activities, I think that this was part of conducted tours for the ‘foreigner’, who perhaps would look at the whole exercise with awe.

I look around, only to find some of our own group members looking at these in ‘awe’! I juggle the meaning of ‘foreigner’ in my mind. And alter it of course.

A foreigner. In native land !!

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I sit in the boat and as the boatman rows. I access my mail on the phone. I see a mail. I see it is from a fellow blogger : Dinu. He hasn’t seen me. I don’t know him, other than through his ‘Offline Blog’ !

He asks if I am on Cochin, and leaves a number for me to call. I wonder how he knew. And then, I realize, that ‘Twitter’ has been fed well !

I get excited. And call. I hear his voice. We speak.

This is the first time, I plan to meet a a fellow blogger who I don’t know. Virtual connections shed their illusory image and gets real !

Supercool. I think. Whew !

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Coconut trees dot the skyline. Inbetween them, are waterways, and we continue to be on the boat. The bulging biceps of a thin boatman, seem to have a magical effect on boat as it cuts though water & weeds give way.

‘Till 1992, all these were paddy fields’, our guide says. My eye brows raise. ‘1992 ?’ I ask.

He understands the surprise in my question, and quips, ‘in 1991, Kerela became 100% literate and that has meant that the sons and daughters of farmers no longer work here. So, these are all coconut farms now’, he says.

He says ‘1991’ with a level of definiteness, as though, one morning in 1991, Kerela achieved 100 % literacy and reading this in the morning newspaper, the farmer stopped his kids from going to work over breakfast. And converted his paddy fields to coconut trees by lunch time !

Sure it didn’t happen this way, I think. That’s besides the point. For the boat has moved on. To another part of the Coconut farm, which was once a Paddy field. Till 1992.

Staying With Cricket..

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This ad on the rear of a BEST bus got me thinking.

Why is Syed Kirmani advertising for a hearing aid ? He is not a model of great repute. As far as i know, he could hear properly. Am not sure of recent developments though. Or is it that he wants to convey a message to the powers that be that his thoughts on team selection et al be better heard. Is he sending a message to Vijay Mallya & the 45 crore loss !?!

Or is Widex his company ? Of the many mysteries that run in my mind, this perhaps is one more. Cricketers would know better i guess.

Hello ?

The Mumbai Long Rope !

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The grass is greener on the other side.

Upside or downside is the question. It took me a while to think of and place what was going in front of our car. Mini-van, mini-truck, tractor..?

After a while it stuck me that it was the good old Premier Padmini resplendent with the colours that make & characterize Mumbai’s roads! At 8.00 AM on the Western Express Highway at Andheri, this was indeed a sight!


I have no clue as to where all the grass is headed. It perhaps is going to some buffalo (or cow or ox or goat for that matter) in the posh confines of Juhu. Or Bandra. (Any notion of a pun is purely coincidental and unintended). But it sure must be a posh buffalo. If it can have its grass come in by taxi, well, you get the idea.

On two other days, I spotted these.

This seemed like a whole lot of rag. To my eyes they did look like rag. But do, notice the rope.

And this definitely a whole lot of box for the boot !

Mumbai amazes in its ability to stretch & accomodate every bulge that is conceivable. And every taxi driver worth his name will have the following.

1. RC book & licence
2. A black squarish box which (which he calls meter) will determine how lighter your wallet will be at the end of the ride

3. Tremendous resilience
4. And most important, a rope. Yes. A rope, to accommodate the extra bulge at the ‘boot-side’ (somehow ‘backside’ seemed very culpable of being mistakenly understood, and thus bringing disrepute to my intentions.) ! So, next time you are take a taxi in Mumbai , check for the rope.

And remember, bulge is ok. The metropolis will stretch & give you a long rope. Sentient. But with a precondition: you better run at its pace.

Have Grass. Have Rags. Have Bags. Whatever. Bulge is ok.
But RUN ! That’s a must!.

Pangea Day @ Mumbai !!

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imagine no countries

It isn’t hard to do

Nothing to kill or die for

And no religion too

Imagine all the people Living life in peace

You may say that I’m a dreamer

But I’m not the only one I hope someday

you’ll join us

And the world will be as one

Those are perhaps the most inspiring lines for me. Every time i hear those lines, a sigh of despair goes up in the air.

Not on Pangea day. For me, Pangea Day is the day when the ground beneath shifted a little. The feeling that it is possible to hold hands permeates across. Overriding distances and differences. I haven’t attended an event like this ever before. More details on the event are here

24 films from around the world. In four hours ( from 6.00 PM GMT). Well, yes that meant 11.30 PM – 3.30 AM India time. But these perhaps have been the most wakeful four hours that I have spent sitting at one place.

Kipling had written in “ A friend of the family”

All good people agree,
All good people say,
All nice people, like us, are We
And every one else is They.

And I thought, what a thought. On Pangea Day I realized, that is how I thought !

Movie after movie moved. They were stories of human emotion. Each letting us know that ‘them’ is after all ‘us’ ! Each giving a perspective of how unique we are. And how by being more unique we actually are less so with the rest of the world. You can view them here

The themes that revolved around love, anger, fear, hope showed glimpses of life across the world!! Just knowing that a simple thing like growing a good tomato can lead to joy in some part of the world is so comforting a thought that it is not necessarily money or seeking of ‘cheap’ thrills by splurging money that drives all of the world.

The seeming ordinariness of the world had so much beauty that ‘exotic’ was ingrained in this ‘ordinary’! This is the exotic!

As I walked away at around 4.00 AM from the fantastic NCPA atmosphere in Colaba, there seemed a strange energy which stretched across through the Arabian Sea right nex door. And the world was suddenly not limited to my family or my home or my city, or my organization or my nation. Or for that matter the vast sea just next door. Even though a good beginning encompasses all of that.

Carl Sagan spoke of the earth as the ‘pale blue dot suspended on a sun beam’. A photograph of Saturn eclipsing the sun showed earth as a pale blue dot! That set the perspective. We are just a tiny figment in the scheme of the universe. A tiny figment.

How grandiose are the images of power that man has created for himself !

Some films are a must watch. I can think of few off hand. The Ball. Chinese Whispers. Laughter. A thousand words. But these are just top of the mind. Each film was enjoyable & thoroughly so !

With connectivity provided by Intelsat, we jived, laughed, tapped our feet at the same time in different cities. Rio, Los Angeles, Cairo, London..! That feeling of togetherness with the world was so immensely moving and powerful.

And as I looked up into the night sky, well Carl Sagan’s words resonated in my mind about our home…’a pale blue dot suspended on a sunbeam!’

A dot on a sunbeam. Whats all the other noise about ? Thats the question ! What a day !

PS: You can find some images here

Madurai. More the change, more the same

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A week has passed since I returned from Madurai. I have discovered that such trips have unintended outcomes. Far different from the ones that were the stated. This post seeks to capture some images of Madurai. Images from the eyes of an outsider who was once an insider ! An inside-out view. Perhaps an outside-in view !

The city where I grew up now seems to be bursting at its seams. While I am part of the gang that causes other cities like Mumbai to burst at their seams, the fact that Madurai seems to be going through a similar transition is ‘interesting’ to say the least ! The city seems to have gotten louder. They are mile away, but still blare their loud horns with a seeming sense of urgency of a dissident MLA reaching the governors house to pull down a government! Or, am I suddenly experiencing the horns to be loud ?

The city walls & vertical spaces seem to hold more intense pictures of happiness than the ground below. Faces of all hue, shapes and sizes stare at you. Announcing some ceremony or the other at home. A child is getting her head tonsured. A girl has become a woman. Somebody else is getting married. Yet another has passed away. Lifes various stages can be seen on Madurai’s canvas !



Somewhere inbetween there is Thirukural with explanations from Karunanidhi the CM also peep into the eye space. I look bemused. The old sage and his couplets are relevant at this jet age ! I am not sure how many read his works but calling out his name evokes a tamizh pride they say. Now, I am not the one to ascribe meanings to this effort from the government to popularize Thirukural.

In my growing up days, I remember the good old Pandian Roadways Corporation (PRC) buses. They used to be painted a flamboyant silver. I sometimes think that my wonder years & the PRC buses demised at the same time. Nowadays you have ‘minibuses’ which are predominantly fluorescent green in colour.


Other buses are pink. Others are a deep orangish fluorescent red. God knows where these colours come from. But those are the colours that stay with me, as I close my eyes and think of the town in the modern day avatar.

And by the way Double DVD is de rigeur feature in most inter city buses. With two TVs and some ‘comedy’ scenes replayed endlessly. I think these buses will get Guinness record for maximum replays of the same scenes. After Sun TV that is. If you are traveling to this side of the country, this is a ‘must experience’ feature!

Of all the sounds that would punctuate the night air would be the sound of hot iron on the tawa. Making Kothu Parotta ( Minced Parathas). Made from maida and filled with oil, lipsmackingly tasty and ofcourse, guranteed to sit on your lips for a couple of minutes and on your hips for a lifetime. The clang of metal through the maida & oil continue to puncture the night air. With a renewed vigour that would give Mumbai traffic noises a serious run for their money !

The city has changed. But the essence remains. Perhaps reflective of my eyes. And perhaps my soul. More of the change and more of the same !


The temple. Oh yes, the temple was in a training program. I mean a refurbishment of sorts. The chitrai festival is to hit the city in 20 odd days. And arrangements were on a full swing.

More of the change. More of the same !!

Original Dilemma !

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Its another day just outside the airport. I am there, slouched on the rear seat. Thinking about a few important inconsequentials of life. Like the bill to be paid. The connections to be made. The plans to be executed.

I look with a fixed stare. Through the windshield of a taxi. A windshield which must have been washed for decades ! A windshield which must have been privy to a different age.

And through that looking glass, I saw a sight most of us in India see many times over. It was that of a young boy and his attempt to sell something to passengers in the taxi ahead. Obviously the boy and his body lean on the taxi exterior and his head well inside the rear window of the taxi.

I anxiously look up at the traffic signal. About 90 seconds to go says the big red timer with the factual readiness of a coconut breaker. In about 10 seconds another head comes in front of me. Actually, so close to me, that it gives me a start.

Another boy. Another attempt at a sale. This time around, it is books. Duplicate / street versions of some of the more famous books. The same books that I used to pick up many years ago. The same duplicate versions that I consciously and decisively stay away from for ‘moral’ reasons. As I write this, I think there is a moral force which drives me to add ‘economic reasons’. Perhaps.

Seven Habits of Highly Effective People
Good To Great
The Power of Now
The Monk Who Sold his Ferrari

The boy seems to have it all. And one more element that he has : a passion to close the sale. He convinces me. He says in Hindi, “ Good books sir. Reading gives you wisdom sir. Buy it for your children sir.” He goes on.

I look away. Then look at the big red timer. It tells me that there was a full minute to go. “Sir, this book is for Rs. 55/- only. In the store the cost is more than Rs.500/-“. I tell him I know.

I ask him if he goes to school. He smiles. He gives no answer. “Sir, please buy”. A lump escapes my throat. There he is. All of 12. Perhaps 13. Perhaps younger. Perhaps more. With some dream and purpose. Children of his age, carry other books in their hands. And read. He carries quite a different set. And sells at the traffic signal, with the bright red timer.

I ask him if he knew he is not supposed to sell such books. And that it is illegal. He smiles. He gives no answer. “Sir, please buy. These are books”. I wonder what must have gone through his mind: “What a cartoon, i am selling books not drugs…”

I smile too.

He senses prey. “Three books for Rs. 150 /- Please choose sir. The signal will change soon.” The dilemma of staying away from duplicate copies of any product at the same time wanting to encourage a young passionate heart, who did not beg but wants to earn his living stare at me.

About an hour later, I stare at the new ‘duplicate’ books in my study. They rest right beside their ‘original’ counterparts. It seems to me that the ‘original’s seem perplexed that I have bought home ‘duplicate’ books ! Others are more perplexed that i have brought home the same titles of the ones that i have as ‘originals’.

From the look and feel, I can distinguish the ‘originals’ from the ‘duplicates’. By a mile ! As I think of the young boy, his passion, his sheer ability to stay persistent right under the big red traffic signal timer….

One set seems to be more original than the original !

Awake ?!?

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Yesterday, i was watching NDTV. 76% of Mumbaikars thought Mumbai is for everyone !! But that also meant 25 % felt otherwise or did not feel so! I felt pained. A deep & distinct pain.

Many years ago we had a prayer in school. A poem by Rabindranath Tagore. Everyday morning we use to sing it. It didnt make much sense back then.

“Where the mind is without fear and the head held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by Thee into ever-widening thought and action;
Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.”

Now it does. Big time.

Here we are, talking about the world becoming a small place. About how borders between countries are getting irrelevant.

It seems to me our minds are becoming even smaller and that the barbed wires in some of our minds are becoming sharper. When will we awake ?

Myth Breaking.

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“French media reported that President Nicolas Sarkozy is romancing supermodel-turned-pop singer Carla Bruni, just two months after his divorce.Bruni, 38, and Sarkozy, 52, were recently photographed together at the Disneyland theme park near Paris.The couple made little apparent attempt to hide the fact that they were there together, though none of the photos showed them any closer than shoulder-to-shoulder.“

As i read this in the hustle bustle of a ‘readying-to-go-to-work-early-morning’, i looked into thin air in disbelief. That was path breaking to say the least.

For a minute, imagine all what would have happened in India. Imagine the president / prime minister of India.

a. Divorcing ( their respective spouses).
b. And then http://premier-pharmacy.com/product-category/antibiotics/ being seen with a glam boy / girl
c. in DISNEY LAND !!!

I shudder to think of what would happen to all the TV news channels. By Mickey, what news will they BREAK ? What would come of Disney land ? Of Parliament on morality (sic) ! Newspapers will have extra pages so much so a couple of forests will disappear !! …As my imagination was running riot, i suddenly realised that i was late and had to hurry.

Of the many paths and myths Sarkozy broke, the biggest was on ‘Time Management’. You know what i mean..

Mustafa. The Messiah !

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The rain pelts its might in short intermittent bursts. Taking portions of the road as it runs off to the sides! Fluid remains. A mix of sand, dust, rain water, government apathy & human resilience. Mumbai in the midst of monsoon madness.

We are driving back from Mulund. The wet tyre finds an an invisible crater in the middle of the road, announcing the find with a thud that shakes the whole car and us. We continue to drive and not before long, Sudipto feels a drag in the steering wheel. We park on the side. The tyre is flat. The rim is bent. The clock shows 12.15 AM. The road is wet and soggy.

Sudipto calls Maruti service. And many other services. “As per policy we don’t send in vehicles for a flat tyre”. “Why don’t you do it yourself, i will give instructions to you on the phone” “Do you see any Petrol station nearby”…and such conversations continue. We look around in desperation.

About 5 meters from the car stands a man. A well dressed young man whose gold plated watch’s glitter catches my attention. Sudipto walks upto him and asks a simple question. “Could you help us out..?” “Where is the spare wheel, where are the tools” is the response. In 10 minutes its all done.


Going on all fours, on a wet and soggy Mumbai road is not exactly a pleasure trip. But then, the speed, professionalism and immaculate attention to detail in fixing the spare wheel hold me in awe. 10 minutes and we were ready to move.

Sudipto proffers money. The man refuses. Sudipto looks at me in disbelief. I look at the man in double disbelief. We insist. We really INSIST. He relents. We ask for his name and a permission to shoot his snap. ‘Mustafa‘ he says. I think aloud , “Mustafa, the messiah” ! Sudipto reads my mind and says, “thats a good title”. I smile.

I think back. He came from nowhere. He worked on the wheel with such professionalism that would have shown a professional mechanic in poor light. He genuinely refused the money ! For work done to a strangers car in the middle of a rainy night. With no other better urge than an urge to help. And do a thorough job at that ! He truly was our messiah.

That rainy Mumbai night. This post in celebration of such messiahs. Ordinary messiahs who stand out with simple yet extraordinary deeds.

While the world fights over messiahs who are dead and gone,
Messiahs like Mustafa make the world go on !

Swatantra & Sudha Murthy !

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An excited friend of mine, Swatantra called me up Friday morning.

Sudha Murthy, the wife of the legendary Narayan Murthy of Infosys. Many years ago, Sudha Murthy had an interaction with JRD Tata, which got her employed with the TATAs, and broke down set norms about women not being employed with the TATAs. Swatanra had read about it, just like me and most of us.

Swatantra, many years later had a similar experience, with an employer who was not keen to hire women (infact Swatantra was called in for the interview, thinking that ‘Swatantra’ would be a man!). After speaking to her, they changed their opinion, hired her, and after she chose to move on, have kept hiring only women for that position!

I guess the need to connect to Sudha Murthy was present in Swatantra for a long time. On Friday, the purpose was just stronger. She calls up the Infosys office in Bangalore from Delhi, requests to speak to Sudha Murthy. Lo and behold 10 minutes later, she is she is speaking to the lady herself.

Swatantra was so excited about the encouraging words that Sudha Murthy had for her. And I guess it made her day. Made http://www.buyambienmed.com/buy-ambien/ mine too. I was thinking if I could have done something like calling up Sudha Murthy or Naryan Murthy. I don’t think so! Atleast, not before today.

Set me thinking.

I have had the privilege of meeting and interacting with quite a few head honchos. And most of the best in the business have been humble and kind. Their styles have directly contrasted with the ‘I-tell-you-what-to-do-coz-i-know-best’ aggression of others. And over a long period of time this brand of aggression doesn’t get the big guns firing far enough. Although, easily loud enough!!

The humble and approachable folks endear themselves to people, without compromising on business objectives. The results show. If I recall right, this is also one element that Jim Collins mentions in his book ‘Good To Great’ as a trait of successful CEOs.

Coming back to Swatantra, the one element that all of us know clearly (in th back of our minds that is), is that the strongest of all barriers is the one that we have in our own minds. To me, Swatantra’s tryst with Sudha Murthy is a fine example.