Aamu – to daughter with love

“Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you….” – Kahlil Gibran

Jotin is a changed man these days. He tries desperately to not make it so evident. He laughs, jokes and goes about doing his daily chores as if nothing has ever happened.

But his demeanor belies it all. People who know him can sense an air of despondency around him.

When Aamu entered his life – the Jotin of that moment and the Jotin of today – there is a world of difference!

Aamu – the answer to all their prayers. He would rush from work to be with her. Gently picking her up and lovingly looking at her he would whisper sweet nothings in her ears. If she was sleeping he would patiently sit by her side and watch the tiniest of her movements and be filled with awe and wonder.

He would rock her in his arms if she cried and comfort her by talking to her. And Aamu would respond by growing quiet. Thus father and daughter would talk endlessly – their language – Love!

Today Aamu is ten months old.  She left Jotin when she was barely two.

He stood at the station long after the train had left! Only if could stop the train! Only if he could stop the avalanche of tears!

He had tried hard; really hard to convince his wife; but all his reasoning and pleading could not pass muster. Misunderstanding, clash of egos, each blaming the other, and verbal spat – at least Jotin could have shown restraint.

Without Aamu; Jotin’s world came crashing down. Not a waking moment passed without Jotin not questioning himself. He would cry late into the night and toss and turn in his bed. Sleep became his worst enemy! He found none to confide his agony and suffered alone.  

During this period Jotin visited Aamu twice. First being Durga Pooja and then during her “Annaprasson” ceremony. Aamu had completed six months and the occasion was marked with festivities. She was now allowed to have cereals. Till then milk was her staple diet.

After the second visit Jotin become all the more recluse. He shunned all company. His folks at home were hurt the most. Poor Jotin! If only he could scream his lungs out - sorry, sorry, and sorry a zillion times – nothing is dearer than you Aamu. Please come back sweetheart; please come back to Papa!

To be away from one’s daughter and not see her growing! To not listen to the giggles of your child when she is happy and to not comfort her when she is sad! Jotin missed it all. The entire symphony of noises that Aamu created - whimpers, snorts, grunts, moans, yelps, squeals, growls, chuckles, sighs and babbles -   signaling the gamut of emotions passing over her – he missed everything!

He, in fact he missed life! For Jotin to live was to be with Aamu!

Nobody understands the pain of a father pining for his daughter!

Jotin now drags himself from one day to the other.  The question is for how long?

In a remote corner of his heart there is a slim ray of hope. Though it flutters with every gush of wind; Jotin has managed to keep it alive.

The question is for how long??

Till the time Aamu comes back.

Aamu will come back.

Aamu has to come back.

Then father and daughter would talk endlessly – their language - Love!

Asha – the dawn of new Hope

Asha – the dawn of new Hope

Everyone in the Ghosh family loves Asha. She is the centre of attraction in this family of lawyers. Subarnalata Ghosh the sixty year old matriarch of the family fusses about her the most.

Subarnalata’s typical day starts early. After her daily worship in the natmandir where the family deity is kept she rushes to the kitchen to fix breakfast for the little girl. Asha must have this, she must not have that, she needs to drink more milk, eat less of candies, have green vegetable soup, blah, blah, blah...  The instructions have become almost sacrosanct to the kitchen staff that they can talk about them on and on ad infinitum. That too verbatim!

The Ghosh family is a very prominent family of South Calcutta. Nilendu Ghosh the grand-father of Subarna was a barrister who practiced alongside the likes of Gandhi and Nehru. He took part in the Quit India movement and had even courted arrest. His son Madhav Kanti Ghosh followed his father’s footsteps and earned fame as a lawyer in the Calcutta high court.

Madhav Kanti had no son. His wife Sudeshna bore him two lovely daughters Subarnalata and Snehlata. The daughters when they grew up kept the family tradition alive by studying law. After her marriage Snehlata settled in the US to work for an international law firm.

Subarna was always the maverick. Her father would jokingly say “Subarna you wear the pants in the house.”  During her college days no one dared pick on her.  The boys literally trembled in her presence. Famous for her oratorical skills and razor sharp mind her teachers and colleagues did not shy from consulting her in many matters. She stopped entering college competitions for fear of gaining a walkover!

Subarna never married. She knew from an early age that she was never cut out for this game. For the likes of Subarna life is too short to be wasted in such trivialities. They are made for bigger pursuits of life.

After her father passed away Subarna become the face of the family. Completing her law degree she started practicing in the Calcutta high court. She had a sharp eye for details and a keen sense of justice. She would never argue a case for the wrong person or for the wrong reason. She turned away many high profile cases if she did not believe either in the case or the person.

Her passion to fight for the poor and the needy took up most of her time. She was their messiah. Every morning before going to court she would meet people for an hour or two. These meetings were highly sought after, and people would come to them from far off places. They become so popular that everyone lovingly called them her “durbar.”

She met Asha in one such “durbar.” Catching her mother’s sari pallu in her mouth, the little one looked at Subarna with her big kohl rimmed eyes. She was terribly filthy and flies swarmed around the corners of her mouth. Yet there was a spark in the girl’s eyes that immediately attracted Subarna.

Both the mother and child seemed hungry. They also needed a proper set of clothes. Subarna instructed her secretary to take care of their needs and asked them to come the next day. She also gave the mother money for the to and fro travel.

The next morning Subarna asked her secretary to cancel all her appointments. She was in her lawn glancing through the morning newspaper when the secretary informed her that the pair had arrived. She asked her secretary to make sure they had breakfast etc.

The mother looked slightly better that day. The little girl’s eyes were red and puffed. It seemed she had cried the entire night. Subarna could not control herself anymore. She asked the mother to narrate her story.

Parnami was from a remote village in 24 Parganas, a district in West Bengal. Her only claim to fame was a one acre land which her husband had left behind. Four years ago he fell prey to an unknown illness and was found dead in a field by fellow laborers. She was then expecting this child.

With her husband dead and no one to turn to; she realized how fortunate she had been so far. Not that there was any love lost between them. The husband drank, beat her mercilessly; at times would bring other women home; yet he also provided a roof and two square meals a day. 

Women of her ilk do not expect much. They are sold off in marriage at a very young age by a father who considers them to be a burden and is happy to wash his hands off. The husband (so called) who buys her is only interested in her physically and cares hoots in according her the status of a legally wedded wife. With no education and no social support; women like Parnami resign themselves to their fate till one day they wake up to find that their own fate has also discarded them.

Things changed for Parmani completely the day her husband died. His funeral pyre was still alight when someone knocked at her door. It was eleven in the night. She opened the door thinking it would be another of those elderly dames coming to console her. She was shocked to see the village money lender. Reeking of alcohol he barely managed to hold himself straight. He pushed the door open and barged in.

This was nothing new. The money lender had been making advances at her even when her husband was alive. He was a   powerful man and no one dared question him or his activities.

That night Parnami pleaded with the money lender to leave her alone. The husband’s pyre was still burning and she wanted to mourn. But the money lender had something else in his mind.  As he moved towards Parnami she screamed as hard as she could and pushing him aside and ran out of the room to the street outside. Hearing her shrieks the villagers came out.

The night the money lender left; but Parnami knew that he would come again. She dreaded their next meeting.

The next few days were unusually calm. Parnami slowly picked up the threads of her torn life. Asha was born. Money was always a scarcity yet Parnami somehow managed to eke a living. She worked as a causal labour when work was available and during times of no work as a domestic help. Her sole possession was the land. However that too was pawned with the money lender.

One day at work Parnami fainted. Initially she thought working in the sun must have taken its toll. However when it started happening almost every other day she got worried. The local doctor referred her to the city hospital.

Carrying her little savings and Asha in tow Parnami came to Calcutta. Her test results were not very positive. There was a malignant fibroid which had to be removed surgically. The cost – INR one lakh!

Narrating her tale so far Parnami fell at the feet of Subarna. Didi you are my last hope. I have heard a lot about you. Had I been alone it would not have mattered if I died. But the thought of leaving my Asha behind – no I cannot even die in peace.

Subarna helped her get up. Asha by now had started crying. Subarna very lovingly picked her up. Summoning her secretary she asked her to take care of the little one by taking her inside the house and making her comfortable.

To Parnami she said. Do you want me to lend you money?

No Didi, no I do not want any money but if you help me win my land back; I can sell it off and pay for the operation. Parnami was fighting a losing battle with her tears.

Yes I can help you with that; Subarna said putting an arm around Parnami.

But Didi I do not have a single paisa for your fees Parnami said with downcast eyes.

Oh! That is okay – don't worry. Anyways could you tell me in detail about your land? So saying Subarna took out her notepad to jot down all details.

The very next morning Subarna filed a case against the money lender. It took just three hearings. Subarna was so good in court that the judge had to exclaim that this was her best case ever!

But fate had other things planned. Parnami had to undergo three major operations to remove the fibroid. The doctors tried hard however were not able to save her. The fibroid had turned very nasty and spread to all her major organs. She died.

For the first time in her life Subarna seemed worried. For the next couple of days she cancelled all her appointments. Even with her own family she turned very aloof. She shut herself up in her room and only came out for her meals.

At the end of almost two week she surprised everyone by calling a press conference.

On the conference day in the room full of journalists and on live TV she said - Folks I have called this conference to introduce you all to my daughter - Asha Subarnalata Ghosh.

You could almost hear the silence in the room!

But that is so typical Subarna.

And that is how she has been throughout her life…!

Amolika

 Amolika

Khoka stared at the console recording the fetal heart rate. There was something amiss. Just then the nurse entered the room. Khoka asked if all was okay. She looked at the machine, examined the wife and immediately rushed out. A few minutes she came back accompanied by the doctor. “We need to shift your wife to the operation theater (OT); could you please go with the nurse and sign the consent form”?

“What is the matter, doctor? Will someone tell me”? Khoka did not realize his voice had risen. But the doctor was not there to explain. As the attendant wheeled his wife to the OT; Khoka did not know what had hit him. He wanted to cry.

This would be Khoka and his wife’s second child.

The first one did not survive!

With both of them over thirty and the wife recuperating from the earlier trauma – both physical and mental - the news that she had conceived again brought a glimmer of hope in their almost barren lives!

Without an iota of doubt they knew it was divine grace.  All that was required of them was trust and faith and to simply play their part in the plan.

Easier said than done!!!

Pacing in the front of the OT anxious for the news; he felt his nerves would snap anytime unable to bear the pressure. Tottering he sat on a bench and did not realize when he dozed off.

The last few months had been very tumultuous for Khoka. Weekly visits to the doctor and test laboratories, collecting reports to assisting his wife with the laundry, grocery and in the kitchen; his days were almost chock-a-bloc. He also had to manage work without taking too many leaves. You never know when an extra leave might come in handy.

The doctor wary of the wife’s previous history wrote numerous tests and prescribed scores of medicines. This pregnancy was precious and she was very clear of not taking any chances.

Instructed by the doctor Khoka had to inject his wife a daily dose of heparin – a blood thinner. His wife’s blood had the tendency to thicken and had prevented the fetus to draw nutrition during the last pregnancy.

Oh! the day he had to take his wife for amniocentesis. Remembering that a cold chill ran down his spine. This is an invasive technique and the chances of miscarriage are 1 in 400. That day Khoka spent the toughest one hour of his life – the time his wife was in the doctor’s cabin undergoing the test.

The reports were all normal and the wife was responding well to the treatment. And then, at the onset of the ninth month of pregnancy her hemoglobin count fell below the mark. The doctor altered medicines however even after a week when the count did not increase; she added another injection. Poor Khoka! Imagine his plight. His wife now had to take two injections daily.

Khoka, O Khoka – get up, the doctor is asking for you. The faint sound of someone calling out his name shook him out of the reverie.  He almost sprang to life! Realizing his surroundings he recognized the doctor standing at the entrance of the OT.

He crossed the distance in a leap. If he could he would have crossed an eon for this moment!

What Khoka saw cannot be described in words – they fail here like they always have...

Wrapped in a pink towel was a bundle of joy in pinkish hue; staring at Khoka with beautiful eyes! (Days later he would lovingly taunt his wife that his child recognized him the moment she was born...)

You had to be there to partake in Khoka’s joie de vivre. He said lot of things but his words were very incoherent. It is like when you see something which the senses cannot comprehend – something of the nature of unspeakable joy and eternal bliss. In fact such a sight makes the senses redundant.

Miracle of miracles! Did he hear what the doctor said? The delivery was normal and he has been blessed with a baby girl. Girl or boy Khoka did not know but when he wrapped the angel in his arms – he knew for a moment he held eternity!

Standing there – he realized one thing for sure – the Gods still loved him!  Cuddling his sweetheart, he gently lifted her to his lips and whispered in her tiny ear:

“I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,

That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,

In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever.” (Rabindranath Thakur, Selected Poems)

Khoka and his wife decided to call her Amolika.  Of Sanskrit origin it means “priceless.”

Amolika

Epilogue :
Amolika was born on 30th April at 04: 30 p.m. Khoka is now even more busier. The entire day he cannot help but steal glances at his little wonder and become full of love and joy for her.  When not doing that the father is busy changing nappies...:)

Coaching Tips by Shahrukh Khan

Last Sunday while rummaging through a pile of old and discarded stuff in the attic of my house, I chanced upon a CD of the Shahrukh Khan starrer Chakde India!  Thank God! I finally found it; it had been eluding me for long.

So after a sumptuous lunch of “machcher jhol and bhaat” (fish curry and rice), I plunked myself on the couch and for the next couple of hours was mesmerized by the movie’s story line and of course Shahrukh’s histrionics.

Kabir Khan (Shahrukh’s character in the movie) was ostracized by the media and the country for conceding a goal and subsequently the championship against arch rivals Pakistan in the men’s hockey world cup. The rumor mills had it that he was in cahoots with the Pakistan hockey board. He was labeled a traitor and goes into self imposed exile.

The movie is the story of his return from exile to coach a motley group of women hockey players for the world championship. Winning the world cup would be his way of salvaging lost pride and silencing his critics.

What is it that makes the movie great viewing? Apart from the excellent story line, near perfect performances by the star cast, there is a wealth of corporate knowledge to be gleaned from it – I found it to be an excellent read on the principles of coaching.

We all agree that coaching is a serious business! For trainers, FLMs and quality coaches it is part of their daily bread and butter. If done in the right way, coaching can make all the difference to an organization’s bottom line.

Well let us see how Kabir Khan goes about coaching sixteen hockey players from different states of India and turns them into a world class team who go on to win the women’s hockey world championship; a tournament they enter as underdogs.

Right credentials and fire in the belly

A coach has to have the right qualifications for the job. As an ex-hockey player Kabir was the perfect fit as the coach of the Indian women’s hockey team. Being Asia’s best centre forward during his playing days he belonged to the “been there, done that” school.

He also knew the criticality of what he was getting into and had prepared hard enough for the coaching job. During his first interview with the hockey association; when one of the members asked where had he been for the last seven years (seven years, three months and fourteen days to be precise) he replies: “…is meeting ki tyari mein…”

As coaches; apart from subject matter expertise what also matters is guts and gumption. They come in real handy while coaching a team which is almost at the bottom of the heap. A coach should also be adept in handling ridicule and comments like the one by the association member (“…aisi team joh European desho ke school teams ke saath bhi nahi khel sakti…”)

Add to this the coach being a risk lover. This could be to try out a new technique, challenge prevailing norms, break prejudices or even silence rising opposition within his team.

Asking his most experienced player Bindiya Naik to sit on the bench or accepting the challenge of playing against the men’s team; Kabir showed enough nerves!  Playing  against the men’s team earned him a ticket to the world cup and yes he was able to teach Bindiya that individual egos have no place when playing as a team.

Set the bar high and unite the team for a common goal

A coach is not worth his salt if he gets balked by hurdles. Winning the women’s world hockey championship was no child’s play yet Kabir states very audaciously:”…Jo nahi ho sakta, wahi toh karna hai…”

Our teams might be plagued by many ills. Intra team rivalries, ego clashes between the experienced folks, lackadaisical attitude to perform at the highest level, lacking the right technique or even language constraints may be few of them. The coach’s first job is to unite the team for a common cause. When Krishnaji Kabir’s assistant coach tells him that the hard practice is taking a toll on the girls and all of it might go against him as a coach, Kabir says: “…Agar mujhe apna dushman banake woh eik dusre ki dost ban sakti hai, toh team banane  ke liye yeh eik bahut hi choti si kimat hai…”

I also liked the scene in which Kabir asks the hockey players to introduce themselves. With each introduction he shows his displeasure until Vidya Sharma introduces herself:” …Vidya Sharma, India…”

His rebuke to the players hits the nail hard on the head: “…Mujhe states ke naam na sunayie dethe hai, na dhikaie dete hai. Sirf ek mulk-a-naam sunayie detha hai, I-N-D-I-A…”

He further thunders: “… ek baat achi tarah sun lijiye aur abhi samaj lijiye. Kyuki mai dubhara nahi bataunga. Is team ko sirf woh player chaiye jo pehle India ke liye khel rahe hai, phir apne sathiyon ke liye, uss ke baad bhi thodi bhahut jaan bach jaye toh apne liye….state govt. ki naukri ya railway flat k liye nahi …

Know your team’s capabilities

Coaches should also have an understanding of each of the member’s strengths and weaknesses. Kabir displays this remarkable understanding when he fields Bindiya Naik against the Korean team’s man to man marking strategy. He tells her: “…is wakht India ko apne sabse jyada experienced player ki jaroorat hai…man to man marking kaise thodi jaati hai sirf tum jaanti ho…match shuru ho raha hai…jao aur thodo…”

When the team from Argentina famous for their rough hockey seems unstoppable; Kabir unleashes the Punjabi lass Balbir on to them. “…Balbir tum apni game khelo… woh do mare tum chaar maro, woh chaar mare tum aaght maro…”

Such an inherent understanding of the team’s capabilities is required to ensure everyone plays his/her part and contributes to the team’s overall success plan.

Practice hard and challenge the team’s limit

The Chinese military proverb says: “The more we sweat in training; the less we bleed in battle”. Absolutely true!  As in war so in competitive sports.

There can be only one substitute for practice and that is more practice. So if it is waking up at 4 a.m. in the morning and running twenty kilometers to build one’s stamina so be it. And practice is a must for all – whether you are a newbie or an experienced player.

So when one of the players Nethra Reddy falls unconscious due to practice Kabir shouts at everyone: “…kya dekh rahe ho use…behosh hui hai mari nahin hai woh…”

Kabir’s methods of course do not find favor with everyone especially the senior players and earn him the sobriquet “Tughlak”. Bindiya Naik who plays for Indian Railways at the national level is his strongest detractor. She along with Aaliya Bose and Gunjan Lakhani the other two senior players pose a big threat to Kabir’s plan of uniting the team for a common cause. Kabir sends a strong message to the entire team by asking Bindiya and Aaliya to sit on the bench till the time they mend their ways.

Have values and hold them tight

A strong value system will always hold a coach in good stead. It is not just in the coaching arena but also in one’s personal life. When Bindiya Naik hints that she can go to any length to become the team’s captain and confronts Kabir by asking: “main captain kyo nahi ban sakti…captain banne ke liye joh woh kar rahi hai main bhi kar sakti hoon…” he very stoically answers back: “…jawab tumne khud de di…”

Had Kabir fallen; it would have been a very precipitous one.

Let the team bask in the glory of success

When the women’s team returns with the championship title and the entire country is singing paeans about their exploits; Kabir is nowhere to be seen. The same media which had blasted him once was going gaga over him. He had courted disaster before and hence knew well how to woo triumph. And that is what I believe to be the hallmark of an effective coach. The team had toiled hard for this and it was their moment of success – no one should usurp it from them. Not even their coach!

So that is how I spent a great Sunday afternoon with Shahrukh Khan and in the bargain learnt few amazing coaching principles. This movie may not be a gospel on the principles of coaching but it does teach us a thing or two on how to effectively coach teams for optimum performance. Hail King Khan!

Image Courtesy :srktimes.com

The Thirsty Crow

Books have always been my best buddies. I grew up on a healthy diet of “Aesop’s Fables” and “Jataka” and “Panchatantra” stories. During my school days I was a regular subscriber of the popular children magazines “Chandamana” and “Lotpot.”  On most of the Sundays and school holidays I would frequent the local library to borrow “The Adventures of Tintin” and “Amar Chitra Katha” comic books.

One of my favorite childhood stories is the “The Thirsty Crow” from Aesop’s Fables. I have read it many times and with every read it reveals something new and interesting.  For the benefit of those who are yet to read here is the story:

“A crow perishing with thirst saw a pitcher, and hoping to find water, flew to it with delight. When he reached it, he discovered to his grief that it contained so little water that he could not possibly get at it. He tried everything he could think of to reach the water, but all his efforts were in vain. At last he collected as many stones as he could carry and dropped them one by one with his beak into the pitcher, until he brought the water within his reach and thus saved his life.”

Come let us un-ravel the fascinating elements of this fable. To breed familiarity let us call the crow – Kalu and assume he is from the dusty by lanes of north India.  Now anyone who resides in north India knows that the land there can become really hot during summers.  To add to this problem is the acute water shortage – rivers, ponds and reservoirs run dry. The water in the tap turns into a trickle and finally vanishes. For the avian population these months can be very agonizing.

That day the sun was beating down with all its might. Not a soul was to be seen on the roads except the lone stray cows. Kalu had been searching for water to drink since morning. But there was none to be found. A few households would keep water in an earthen tray and place it either on a window sill or parapet for the birds; but that day even they were dry!

Tired and exhausted Kalu perched on the branch of a tree to rest for a while. Thud!! A loud noise broke the afternoon silence.  One of neighborhood crows had fallen dead due to the extreme heat. Kalu did not want to meet the same fate. He decided to find water at any cost.

Life can at times be very cruel. There will be situations completely outside our control. We may fret, fume, tear our hair, beat our chest and wail loudly “Why me?” but things may still remain the same. Seeing one of your own die in front of your eyes can be very painful. Yet Kalu chose not to sit and brood over it or let the impending danger of water scarcity frighten him. He decided to use the weapon nature had bestowed him - the freedom of choice. He chose to fight! He chose to live!

So Kalu flew again from one roof top to another, one village to another, over dry ponds and parched fields. From the top he scoured every inch of the area for water. He could see women walking miles in search of water with earthen pots delicately balanced on their heads and children in tow. At times Kalu would rest for a while on a broken hand pump. Yet he could not find water; neither in any of the hand pumps nor anywhere!

He had flown over a couple of houses when he noticed a nondescript and ramshackle building just around the corner. He was about to skip and fly over it when something caught his eye. Curiosity got the better of him and he flew inside.  What he saw almost took his breath away! He started flapping his wings in excitement.

In one corner of the building there was a pitcher and lo and behold it contained water! Kalu thought he would faint with joy. He had at last found the elixir of life. He was about to make a dash for the pitcher when he noticed something unusual. There were few birds sitting on the rim of the pitcher and peeping in. One of them seemed to be saying something and the others were nodding their heads. Few were on the floor next to the pitcher and talking in hushed tones. A couple of crows seemed very angry. They were pecking at the pitcher in exasperation as if they wanted to break it. Strange! Why were the birds not drinking water?  Kalu decided to go near the pitcher. Alas! The water level was so low that none of birds could reach below to drink it.

Life’s paradoxes! There are instances galore when life throws up such situations with unabashed alacrity. When we are so near; yet so far from the solution we are searching.  And like the birds in the building we wonder what is happening or why is it happening to us? We resign ourselves to fate. Few of us sulk in a corner, few vent out anger like the crows pecking at the pitcher. Imagine Kalu’s plight. He was half dead due to thirst and exhaustion. He had been searching for water since morning and now he finds it only to realize he cannot drink it. This can break even a diehard optimist. So what does he do?

By now only Kalu remained in the building. The others had flown away in frustration. One of the crows even asked Kalu to come with him and forget the water as it was not fit for drinking. But Kalu was undeterred. He perched on the rim of the pitcher and started thinking hard. Time was running out; he could barely manage another hour without water. The thirst and sheer exhaustion had clouded his faculties and he found it increasingly difficult even to stay put. Yet he thought and thought, there has to be a way out of this he kept telling himself. Suddenly there was a splash! A loud one! Something had fallen in the pitcher. Due to this couple of drops of water rose and fell on Kalu. Initially he did not seem to notice and then, suddenly everything became crystal clear. His eyes lit up! On peeping inside he saw that a corner of the edge of the pitcher had broken and fallen in.

The entire tangent of Kalu’s thinking changed. If an object which falls inside the pitcher can make water drops rise; then by dropping more of such objects the level can be raised even higher. High enough for him to drink water comfortably. This was like manna from heaven. Kalu knew he would no longer die of thirst. Not only his but other lives could be saved!

Paulo Coelho in the “The Alchemist” says “And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” All Kalu did was to just hang on. His calm demeanor, ability to think and non quitter attitude when faced with challenge turns him into a super crow; isn’t it? I don’t think so. Look at this way. Was the situation any different to the other birds and crows? Was the sun more benevolent to the others than it was to Kalu? So why did the others flee and not Kalu? Why did he not give up or listen to the crow who told him that the water was not fit to drink? Kalu was not a super crow but he sure knew a thing or two about psychology – more than the situation it is the reaction to it that matters most.

Kalu had won half the battle. He had found water and he knew that by dropping objects into the pitcher the level would come up high enough for him to drink. But what would he drop in the pitcher and how? He looked for something that he could find handy to hold in his beak, fly with it and then drop it in the pitcher.

Now the building where Kalu found the pitcher was in a pitiable condition.  The roof had caved in, the plaster on the walls was peeling off and there were huge cracks on the walls and gapes on the floor. Pebbles were strewn all over. Kalu picked up a pebble with his beak and dropped it in the pitcher. Just as he had thought, the water rose a bit. Kalu went ecstatic. He picked another pebble and dropped it too. The water level rose again. With a new found energy Kalu started picking pebbles and dropping them in the pitcher with gusto. With every rise in the water level he found his hopes rising. He became so engrossed that he did not even realize that the water level had come up to the brim. Kalu drank to his heart’s content. That day the water tasted extra sweet.

Jimmy Dean (the US country music singer) said, “I can’t change the direction of the wind, but I can adjust my sails to always reach my destination.”  Kalu is not like us. He does not know how to crib, throw tantrums or sit and sigh and moan. He does not know how to curse his maker for a beak which is not suitable for picking pebbles. His bird instinct tells him just one thing - events that happen in a crow’s life are not in his control however; what is in his control is how he reacts to them, how well he utilizes things at his disposal and turns disadvantage in to advantage.

So that is my import from “The Thirsty Crow.”  Also, what is your guess? Do you think Kalu is educated? I don’t think so at least not in the way we pride ourselves in being educated. Actually the prevailing system of education is not even geared to provide us with life saving or problem solving skills; the one which Kalu exhibited. I think Kalu is a smart crow who knows how to live his bird life to the hilt.

By the way, what is a group of crows called?

It is called a “murder.”

Weird, isn’t it?

Photo Courtesy :

espliego.wordpress.com

The Final Destination

Phatik Ganguly is the caretaker of the Brabourne road cemetery. For the past twenty five years Phatikbabu is taking care of the dead, literally! He has a room in the compound and his personal interests (of whatever few he has) are met by the honorarium paid by the trust responsible for running the cemetery.  He ensures upkeep of the compound, waters the plants, keeps a check on vagabonds or ruffians who will not leave any grave stone unturned to encroach on the property, drives away stray animals that saunter in and provide the necessary service to people who need to use the cemetery.  The cemetery is not in use much. There is hardly any space. Whatever is left has been kept lest someone walk in with a recommendation. Surprising! Recommendations help us even after we die!  A proposal to get more land is lying with the local municipal authorities. But like all government files and projects which never see light of the day, this too has very slim chances unless some local heavyweight or a politician takes fancy with the issues of the dead!

Phatikbabu hardly has any visitors calling on him. Except for Dinu who brings him his daily lunch and dinner, there is Sujoyda another octogenarian and Phatikbabu’s classmate, who comes for the occasional hookah and chitchat. However for the last couple of days Phatikbabu has a new friend. Initially the man would come in at around four–thirty, very quietly walk towards one of the grave stones and silently sit there. For the first couple of days Phatikbabu did not want to bother him, but when the visits became regular he decided to inquire more.

Aroon Sarkar, Phatikbabu had to cajole him to know his name, is in his late thirties. With a stooping figure, droopy eyes, a receding hairline Aroon seemed to melt in the surroundings of the cemetery.  When the sun shone on his bald plate it seemed to emit a strange light. This was the only light that emanated from Aroon, everything else about him was sad. He hardly ever spoke except the monosyllabic answers in response to Phatikbabu’s questions. Aroon is an English teacher at the municipal school. He is unmarried and lives in a one room apartment in the old city. Of whatever meager he earned, he kept a little for himself and the rest he donated to a local orphanage.

Every day at four-thirty in the evening Aroon would enter the cemetery compound.  After a quick nod at Phatikbabu he would walk to the corner of the cemetery. He would always bring a bunch of white lilies and lay them at the grave of Roopa Sarkar. Lilies were her favorite flowers.

Roopa Sarkar was Aroon’s mother.  Not many people would know her by her maiden name. She was Roopa the yesteryears movie star. A woman of astounding beauty, during her heydays she had the Calcutta public eating out of her hands. More than her stardom she made headlines with her whirlwind romance with one of the most influential man in the city. However things did not work between them as desired. When things turned sour the man used his influence and clout to ensure Roopa lose out on all her movie offers. Relations between them reached its nadir with the birth of Aroon. The man feared Roopa would use the baby to extract money out of him. The rumors had it that he even sent hired goons to get Roopa and the child eliminated.

Roopa was a lady of iron will. She quit films and decided to bring up Aroon as a single mother. Not that it was easy. Many wanted to help her. Roopa was clever enough to see through the façade. She stayed away from one and all. She was ostracized from society, her trusted aides who during her good times swore by her, deserted her one by one. There were days when she and Aroon went hungry yet she never lost her dignity. She clung on to her faith and her ability to rise above all odds saw them through the worst of times. Her hard work paid when Aroon got a job at the local municipal school.

However all this had a toll on her health. She had a wiry frame and was prone to bouts of depression. During her movie days she would smoke occasionally. Due to the depression she picked it up again. The doctors advised her against it many times, but she would never pay heed to them. She said this was the only luxury she permitted herself. The heavy smoking damaged sixty percent of her lungs. She died in sleep due a massive heart attack.

Aroon’s world came to an end with Roopa’s death. He had read somewhere “God could not be everywhere so he made mothers”. He found this coming true in his life. His mother’s entire life was one of struggle. Things which were taken for granted in other households were a luxury for them. All the trial and tribulations went by this mother son duo turned Aroon into a sensitive person. He grew up to be introspective. One could find him sitting quietly lost in his thoughts. He often wondered on the purpose of his mother’s life. He could not fathom the treatment meted out to her by the man she loved and for whom she forsook her career. He had tried many times to know the antecedents of her life. He wanted her to tell him who his father was and why did he not stay with them?  Roopa never relented. She always avoided the topic. On being pestered too much she would tell him that his father had died while he was very young. Somehow Aroon could not make himself believe this.

While sitting at the foot of his mother’s grave he would wonder at the way his life had taken its course. The serenity of the cemetery was a perfect foil to his agitating mind. Aroon felt that the cemetery was a man’s final destination. It was very humbling here. The cemetery was a great leveler. It did not matter if you are a blue blood royalty, rich or poor, clergy or laity, prince or pauper. The cemetery meted the same treatment to everyone. No one jingles coins here. No one flaunts big cars here. You would not find any ostentatious display of wealth or any rowdy show of pseudo masochism. Time stood still here. There is no hurry of meeting deadlines; no pressure of being perfect. Death is the final perfection!

But if man knows that this is the inevitable, why does he behave insanely? Why is there mindless killing? Why is man baying for another’s blood in this “dog-eat-dog-world?” If we cannot carry all that we hoard during the lifetime, why don’t we see the futility of our actions? When immortality is Nature’s closely guarded secret never to be revealed to anyone, what prompts us to act so vainly?  What went in his father’s mind while he treated his mother so badly? Was the desire to control his mother a vain attempt to hide his own imperfections? He thought and thought but the answers eluded him.

After Roopa died Aroon decided to rent a portion of the house to someone in need. While he was clearing the room to be rented he chanced upon an iron chest. This one had escaped his attention while his mother was alive. Maybe she had kept it hidden from him. Besides old clothes, a few of his mother’s saris, in the chest he also found old magazines, newspaper clippings and a few letters written to her by one Indrajit Talukdar. Aroon immediately knew he had struck gold. He set out to find more about Indrajit.

Indrajit Talukdar was from a zamindar family. His father Mahendranath Talukdar had come to Calcutta during the partition. He had set up a rice mill and a sugar mill in the city. Being a god-fearing man Mahendranath had also set up free schools for the poor, opened many ashrams and day care centers. Due to his philanthropy Mahendranath was very popular. His well wishers asked him to contest the local municipal elections and he was elected the mayor of Calcutta.

Mahendranath had two sons and a daughter. Indrajit was his youngest son. He was a pampered child. Every wish of his was fulfilled even before he would say it. Servants were at his beck and call all through the day. He threw tantrums, became very violent if things were not to his liking. During his adolescent days he fell into bad company. Initially money was not a problem. Slowly when his demand for money could not be met by his father Indrajit got involved in nefarious activities such as land grabbing, extortion, and kidnapping. He did everything to bring infamy to his father's reputation. Things came to such a pass that Mahendranath disowned him. Seeing that he would lose out on such a huge inheritance Indrajit went to court against his father. He was helped in all these by his father’s political opponents and other relatives who were never happy with the rise of Mahendranath.

Indrajit was also into movie financing. In a ceremony to award movie stars he noticed Roopa. He was awe-struck by her dazzling beauty. She was new to tinsel town and would frequent such parties to seek audience with the leading directors and producers. She hoped to get work this way. Within minutes of seeing Roopa, Indrajit announced a new movie with Roopa as the leading lady. He signed the best crew. The movie also had a huge budget. The movie went on floors and on the pretext of overseeing production Indrajit started meeting Roopa every-day. As luck would have it Indrajit’s gamble paid off and the movie turned out to be blockbuster. Overnight Roopa was a sensation.

After the movie’s unprecedented success Roopa was flooded with more offers. She and Indrajit were now completely into each other. Her affair starting feeding the gossip mills and it soon became the talk of the town. But nobody dare say anything to them, not even Roopa’s family. Everyone knew Indrajit’s influence. It was said that Indrajit ensured many of Roopa’s competitors went without work. All of those movies came to her kitty. Everything went well for a couple of years. Then one day she discovered Indrajit was not only married but also had a child. When she confronted Indrajit about this he had no qualms in accepting it. He said it was none of her business to know about his past life. She should only be bothered about her stardom which was his mercy to her and no price is ever too high for Roopa to pay it. It did not matter much to him when Roopa told him that she was carrying his child, he asked her to drop it.

The jolt woke Roopa out of her reverie. Suddenly she felt she had been cheated. She told Indrajit that whatever happens she would never drop the child. Indrajit walked out of her life leaving her in the lurch. He also threatened her with dire consequences.

It was six-thirty now. Aroon has been in the cemetery for more than usual today. He felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw the benign face of Phatikbabu. He asked Aroon to come and sit in his room then. A local politician had died and his body had come to the cemetery. But there is no space insisted Aroon, where will this body be laid? Phatikbabu asked him to not to meddle in affairs of the cemetery. Space would be made next to Roopa Sarkar’s grave. A few plots had been left to accommodate any such pressing need. Moreover he could not refuse as the trust has the final say in such matters. Without much ado Aroon got up and made a quiet exit.

The next morning the following newspaper headline caught his attention “Councilor brutally murdered in his sleep. Old animosity suspected.”  He was about to toss the newspaper away as such things had almost become routine, when the name of the councilor forbade him to do so. The fine print said “Indrajit Talukdar murdered in his sleep. A local miscreant stabbed him seventy two times before fleeing away. Nothing has been stolen. Tension grips south Calcutta, his constituency. Police have been deployed to prevent any untoward incident. Indrajit Talukdar has been  laid to rest in the Brabourne road cemetery….”

Aroon finally tossed the paper aside. He was getting late for school.