...the 'water'ful journey continued..

After we reached our destination, we had a guided tour of the largest rice mill of the country (with no comparison to Indian ones though). It has always fascinated me - I have always wondered that whatever we eat, we use - how is it created, how is it prepared, how has it reached the state it is in?

Hence, it was an inspiring tour.

After the tour comes the hard part - the one of explaining to the owners of the industry (who, by the way, know as much English or Hindi, as I know Bengali). So most of the communication was done by nods and signals - we took the easy way out - I nodded affirmative to whatever they said, and they reciprocated in the a similar fashion.

As I understand (or I choose to believe), they understood our proposition, and we, in principle, agreed to work together. Timelines to be still decided.

After the meeting, had nothing to do in that countryside place, so we were just killing time when someone mentioned that Rabindranath Tagore's house was nearby, just a 10 mins drive. Having nothing better to do, we went over.



It was a country house that Tagore used in his spare time, when he wanted some time out from his Shanti Niketan affairs.

One interesting point - I just observed that I have always believed that Einstein's era was a long long time ago - but when I saw a pic of Tagore & Einstein together in former's countryhouse, I got some credit in my knowledge bank.

Water Water everywhere..

Astalavista Baby!

Thus came the field trips, in thy countryside.

The day comes with a trip - had to visit the largest agro-industry in B'desh, because they were interested in making use of our services (true it is, that our line of business has lots of takers, and I have hardly met anyone who hasn't been interested in the kind of work I do!) - t'was a 200 mile journey, and I enjoyed every bit of it (including the time I dozed off for).

I have never really been a morning person (wow, that's news!) - but still, I am bang on time when it comes to urgency. Early morn it was when we had to start (yes, 0700 hrs is too early for me), and first one hour was slept off - in this time, we only managed to come outside Dhaka, so nothing was really lost (I have already traveled the city a lot in last few days, and hence can recognize places/roads). Once we were in the outskirts, scenes of the havoc created by floods started showing (it was shocking for me, but for those who stay here (e.g., our driver, our client), it was business-as-usual [wow, additionality factor {only those who work in the field that I do, will understand this, so don't break your head thinking about this 'additionality'}]).

Anyways, I saw hundreds of brick kilns submerged! Could only see their chimneys above the water - its difficult for me to digest that people plan their business around floods, and are OK if their bread & butter goes down in floods, albeit only for a few months.





We go forward, and cometh another exciting thing - crossing an over-flooded river by a ferry. This has been the most adventurous thing of my trip so far (all right, I won't compare my flight with this one - both are different genre). These huge ferries take as many as 20 trucks across the river - very streamlined process, and very interesting. It reminds me of the ferry ride Tommy Lee & Ashley Judd take in the movie "Double Jeopardy" (yes, I liked the movie, and what was nice to see was how Judd escapes from there).

Our ferry ride took about an hour to cross the river (it was long).









And here's what happened - while we were crossing the river, we saw a boat (with fisherman in it) going down in the midst of the river - obviously, the attention of all (300+) people on-board shifted to the scene - though I had no part to play in this whole exercise of saving them, I felt very content after this journey. (Pic of the saved boat/fisherman below [notice where everyone is focused]).



Well, the day was eventful enough, and we reached the destination in another few hours. Totally exhausted at the end of it though. Understandable.

Easy way to lose $$$

Day 2:

Day starts fine with the breakfast in the hotel. First meeting of the day is with the one of the ministries of this place, and it came as no surprise that there are no regulations at all! Over and above that, WE are asked to prepare a draft policy (taking some cues from Indian policies), that we want to be implemented in Bangladesh - "what an idea sirji".

Next meeting is with a honcho - the person who supplies people (as labour) to Japan & Mid-East - awesome and flourishing business he has - apparently he also wants to jump the bandwagon and invest in renewable space.

Then we meet those who manage Grameen Shakti, the NGO arm of Nobel Laureate Muhamad Yunus' Grameen Bank - there, we get the flavor of where actually all the funds coming in Bangladesh are going.

Its all about PR, at the end of the day, is what I have realized.

Talking about the city, its amazing to note that this place runs on gas - not on gasoline. Bangladesh is almost self-sufficient in its fuel requirements! More than 90% of the vehicles here are Toyotas (with a majority of them reconditioned and shipped from Japan).

Points to note: never ask for veg food; never ask for liquor; always wear a neck-tie if you want to impress the one in front of you; never leave your bag in your cab [if you leave it, don't leave any cash in it; stupid me - I did, and lost $$$ :( ]

Poor me.

Sent from BlackBerry® on Airtel

Bangla Diaries

As a matter of fact, yes, I am. I am here. Not Kolkata - its Bangadesh.

When the opportunity to visit B'desh was building up a few months ago (mind you, for purely business purposes), I thought the country wouldn't be very different from India - anyhow, the country was an offshoot of India, and shouldn't be very different. Though many advised me not to visit this place for numerous reasons (many reasons being social, many developmental, many others, only a few reasonable) - I chose my work to take priority, and went ahead planning for the visit.

So, the plan finalized; Visa received; hence cometh the date to travel.

We get to know that Friday and Saturday are the weekends in B'desh, so we had to be in the country before Sunday morning, so that we may start our meetings Sunday first thing (like Monday first thing in India). Hence we had to take a Biman Bangladesh (BB) flight (this is the official airline of B'desh). My travel agent double checked with me before finalizing the ticket, suggesting that I should travel a day later, so that I can take a Jet Airways flight, which would reach B'desh Sunday mid-day. In order to save that half day, I overruled and asked him to get the tickets.

So here we were, at Delhi IGI Airport, at 12 noon on Saturday (flight scheduled to take off at 1500 hrs, to reach Dhaka at 1730 hrs). Reached airport, and we don't see at BB counter - on inquiring, we are told that the flight is delayed by a whopping 5 hours. Striving to catch hold of any BB official, we waited for an hour, and then lost hope - went back home, to again come back at 1700 hrs. So, we come back at 1700 hrs, and see a mob standing near BB counter - there are two helpless ladies standing at the counter, trying to help people get their boarding passes. I was amazed to notice that after Raipur airport in India, this was the second place where manual entry was done (imagine, no computers at the counter of BB, to check records!).

So back to the boarding pass queue - a flight of a capacity of 200, and out of them 100+ were Surds! I thought it wasn't to Dhaka, but to Ludhiana. Anyways, 2 hours hence, we get our passes, and we are off to the lounge, and subsequently for the aircraft.

In the aircraft at 2030 hrs, and surprizzze - no air-hostesses! No stewards as well. Wait 30 mins, and we see two stewards coming in,asking everyone to keep quiet. Another amazing thing - person sitting next to me - takes his shoes off - brings out his radio - and we all a part of the melodious thumping Punjabi songs courtesy Jaggy-D and Mika! True, Music has no boundaries!

So the stewards trying to tell everyone to fasten their seat belts, but alas - they don't speak in Punjabi, which most of the junta in the plane understand - so the steward goes out of the place, and calls security to help people with tying their seat belts! Amazing.

Cometh 2200 hrs, and the pilot come in - we fly, at last! (Should I expect any soft drinks to start with, or a 3 course meal? A wine bottle please? Joking?)

The course of the journey refreshed my memories that date back ten years - to the days when Blue line and Red line buses used to ply in Delhi. If I were to say that those buses were better than this journey, THAT would be an understatement as well!

Another key observation - everyone has his own bottle of Scotch handy - flight takes off and the glasses come out. People start drinking as well as hiding. I have never tried to hide as much while cheating/copying in my college exams, as these guys were trying to, from each other. Wonder if people thought drinks will be taken away from them, if caught??

And food in flight - well, don't even talk about it - I couldn't even have half a bite. Thankfully, I had a sandwich at the airport, that kept me alive.

Finally, we land at the airport (how many airports have I seen like this - ufff!), and head for immigration - 0200 hrs, day 2. Another 90 minutes at the immigration/luggage collection, and we are off to our hotel (thankfully the airport pickup by the hotel was patient enough to wait for us all the while).

And at the hotel, when at the reception we told that we came in BB, they were awe-struck! I am not surprised why!

So a journey that started 1200 hrs day 1 from Delhi, ended at 0200 hrs day 2 - time taken from Delhi to NY non-stop 14 hours. Time we took - 14 hours. Cool, not very far. Just yet!

PS: I am here for a few days - so more action awaited!

Around the world..

...it was easier to feel the anger. The anger fueled me, kept the sadness from taking over every ounce of my body. But the anger is no longer here…no longer my confidante, my companion, my ironic solace. I am left with nothing - just hollow - and empty.

The time I spent on myself - really a great help - makes me realize that I should be a part of the journey.

“I don’t want to be a passenger in my own life.” – Diane Ackerman

March 25 (II)

March 25

March 23

The books I would write...

The books I would write would be of travels in foreign lands, of lessons learned, of beauty seen, or awareness heightened. The books I would write would tell of adventures of the body and spirit, of the mind and heart, adventures of a fully lived life. These books would tell of my own journeys across native soils, the people, the culture, the diversity and challenges of life. Filled with my own moments of pain and fear, these books would tell the stories of overcoming danger and adversity, rising above the terrors and facing the world head-on with courage and grace. The books I would write would tell these stories through honesty and hope, imparting wisdom and bravery to those reading the raw words of my own experiences.

These books I would write in the hopes of making a difference in the world. By using my own life, the only experiences I can truly, wholly know, and molding these experiences into words, more than words, emotions and awareness and realizations that could touch the deeply scarred souls of this world. I would write these books because I want to live this life, because I want to have these experiences and to know that I am capable of surmounting the strongest fears and deepest pains. I would write these books because if I could live this life, then somehow I believe the answers would find me. And in turn, these answers, this wisdom and knowledge, could be passed on to others.

Or maybe the books I would write would be a collection of my actual experiences, moving memoirs of the life I have actually lived. Maybe I would write a book detailing the internal turmoil of a ten-year-old guy with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Maybe I would describe the constant fears, the disturbing beliefs that every detail of life must be lived out in a certain way in order to avoid catastrophic repercussions. Maybe I would write of the endless hours spent arranging and rearranging books, or the feeling that no matter how much I ran, I would never be tired. Maybe I would write of being the preadolescent guy who ate his lunch by holding only the plastic wrapping, and the confusion he felt. Maybe I would write this story.

Or maybe I would write a book about an adolescent guy sitting outside his hostel, contemplating the meaning of life. Trying to understand why people try to force themselves, or not. I would write of a morning when the walk to school became a cross country, an attempt to flee from self. Maybe I would write of drugs and sex and every avenue of self-destruction and the reasons why these paths were not taken. Maybe I would write this story.

Maybe I would write these books because these are the stories I know. Because these are the stories I’ve lived. Because these are the stories that may actually make a difference to someone, somewhere, in the midst of tormenting fears or the confusion of a lost identity. Maybe I would write these books in the hopes that lost souls would know they are not alone, that their path is one that has been traveled by many, that their story is not so different from mine.

So maybe, just maybe, I would write books of my life, both real and imagined. Books that tell my story, and the story of so many others. Books that remind us all that life’s journey need not be walked alone, that the burdens will not always weigh upon us too heavily, and that beauty can be found even in the midst of darkness.

escape

I long for escape these days. I fantasize of getting up at daybreak one of these mornings and getting into my car and driving, with no set destination in mind. In the company of only a few of my most precious belongings, I want to roll the windows down and feel the wind on my face. I want to sing at the top of my lungs, songs of endings and beginnings, songs of sadness and loss and freedom and peace. I want to drive past the towering buildings and into the mountains. I want to find a place where the ground is covered in white and the silence is deafening. I want a place to read and think and write. I want to find a haven in which I can escape from the world of responsibility and deadlines and complexity.

I know this feeling well, too well. This feeling of wanting to run far away, to escape the overwhelming sensations of reality, to find solace in solitude. After knowing this feeling time and time again for so many years, I know the origin of this desperate desire. It only comes when I reach the edge. It only happens after I'm totally tired. Tired so much as if I have reached the peak of a mountain, I stand firmly on the edge, and I look down to find that there is nothing there. The beautiful vista has only been another disillusion of my mind, and I am faced with a choice. Do I turn around and climb back down the mountain, hoping that the next mountain I climb will offer the magnificence of my dreams? Or do I allow myself to fall from the edge?

So many mountains I've climbed, so many times I've reached this edge. Many times I have jumped, allowing the desolation to envelop me as I plummet into emptiness. A few times I have simply turned around and walked back down the thought mountain, building up new dreams in my head of the other mountains I shall climb. In essence, I have managed to escape, in some fashion, each time I have reached the edge. Never have I even entertained the possibility of just staying there on the edge. Never have I allowed myself to realize that should I just sit and wait, perhaps the vista I have dreamed of will roll into view.

I'm at the edge again, and I'm terrified. My instincts are to run. At moments I think I could easily turn around and have a comfortable life. Other moments are so burdened by exhaustion that the idea of jumping seems a blessing in disguise. But no matter how appealing escape seems, I have realized throughout the years (and many attempts to escape) that it is impossible to escape from oneself. And so here I am again, but this time I will sit on the edge. I will feel the wind upon my face as I sit here and I will cherish the deafening silence that surrounds me, even at this difficult juncture. I will sit, I will wait, and maybe tomorrow's sunrise will bring the view that is harbored in my soul. I will make a choice - THE choice.

twenty-six..

I'm 26 (when I come to think of it, I still have four more years to go, before panic..)! I noticed a few strands of grey hair, and at that very moment, I knew it's time to act. Now many would say, as they keep saying, that it's high time I get to the next league. I was talking to S yesterday, and she mentioned it's a shame that I'm talking to her over the phone, rather than one-full-time-girl that I should go for; Another friend S keeps telling me, every single time that we talk, that it's time for me to get married now - I know why he can say so - he's still 22, and is far away from the realities at 26; I was discussing something with M last week (M, btw, is married), when he mentioned that there is another flavor of interesting things that one gets into, once he/she gets married and gets into the monotone of daily going back to home after work. And C also has her own predispositions about 'growing up', in a peculiar manner, that I could get a hint of, today.

P, A & I were discussing the other night that we should go to Switzerland and have a holiday (before we get into the stance when we will hardly be able to go on our own). Then on a different ground, I had discussions with N to have a Europe tour. Today, another discussion with D also pitched in the intensity to the Europe tour. Hope it gets underway this time around.

I also met up with A today - from Dominican Republic, but settled in the States. A met me through HC/CS and we went around to lots of places. It is interesting to note how different cultures can be, and how far perceptions can lead the thoughts of a irresolute mind. I'll surely love to meet lots of interesting people like A, who are traveling across the world in order to find something they don't even know (obviously I would want to travel in the same manner too - it falls in line with what I told C today; that I would want to travel around the world, and then only I can say that I have "arrived").

Will this Eurotrip mark the beginning, the dawn of the 'arrival'..

Christmas Carols..!

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, .......

This Christmas wasn't any different either in this regard. Though it was quite interesting. The amazing party brought out the flavors which wouldn't have been possible otherwise. The hosts were superb; and so were the arrangements. As expected, I was glad to be present at such an occasion, having fun with friends.

Got to meet loads of people. Moreover, when I come to think of it, I was the only one "unemployed" in the party, which comprised of more than 25 guests. Made me feel a bit strange & awkward, but I had to console myself with the fact that only a couple of months are left for me to enter the much-acclaimed corporate world as well.

The new year is nearby, and there are loads and loads of plans being made everywhere; be it Kodaikanal, Munnar, B'lore, or infact, even Calicut (If some people decide to come over here). I really wonder whats up, and why I am unable to decide what exactly should I do.

Even the mails are becoming irregular now, and as the time passes by, it gives a degree of discomfort. Only consolation comes in the way of classes (which I rarely attend fully), movie breaks, and the waiting period, of the unknown.

Hurry..!!

Dont hav much time to write anything..
leaving for B'lore in 20 minutes, and lot more stuff still needs to b done..
I just hope that i get everyone I am going to meet out there..
Hope all goes well..
Amen.
(The intricacies of last 3 days, in next post)

The prophecy has begun..

The new year at IIMK began on an exciting note, with the conclusion of yet another memorable trip. This time, neither it was Ooty, nor Bekal. Neither Bandipur, nor Kodaikanal. Neither Mahe, nor Munnar.
this time, it was Coorg, a gem of a place.
The place was absolutely fabulous. with constant rains pouring, we never found ourselves out of clouds. Its really like staying in heaven, even when u r alive.

With mahendra playing the Captain's knock, the arrangements were more than satisfying. With wise words here and there, the comments of the intellect were really upto their standards.

After getting back from the trip, as usual, hectic schedule began, with the assignments pending and the cases yet to be solved. Anyhow, deadlines were met, as they are meant to be, and no casualties occured.

M still thinking whether to lead a hectic life this year, by taking loads of subjects, or to lead an easy life. Brand management is a helluva nice subject to take, and with Sridhar coming over to take it, I dont think I can afford to miss it. But again, the load factor comes over. Lets see what shapes up.

And yes, on a personal note, i am a bit happy again, for the daily mails which i started again today.

Woods r lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Thats all of us

The Coorg way..the road less travelled