A worthy opponent competes with you or completes you?

Few days ago, Roger Federer retired. The final speech made almost all the spectators around the world emotional, including me and surprisingly, my wife (she is not a tennis fan). I was not this emotional even during Sachin or Dravid's retirement. I felt sad on both Sachin and Dravid's retirement but not emotional. But the scene which stole the heart was where Nadal and Federer were sitting side by side and holding each other hands. Both were teary eyed and it was difficult to find out who was consoling whom. What made it special and surprising is that Nadal is not just any other person or player. He was of course a friend but was also a fierce competitor of Federer and caused him many heartbreaks beating him in the court. But that day, they were just two humans expressing their uncontrolled emotions. Nadal, before Federer retired said that with the retirement of Federer a part of him was also leaving the tennis courts. It was surely the beginning of the end of the golden ear of modern tennis. The trio of Federer, Nadal and Djokovic had dominated men’s tennis for more than a decade and entertained us with some exciting play of tennis.

Looking at all the three tennis greats in the same European Team in Laver Cup, one thought came to my mind. Is it possible that if, all the three had played tennis separately in different eras, would they have been such good players as they became or they would have been a little less good player? Was Federer a great player or became great because he had Nadal and Djokovic as opponent? Some would argue that if he had not Nadal or Djokovic as opponent some one else would have been a worthy opponent, may be a better player than Nadal. It is a valid counter argument to a hypothetical situation. But still the question will be valid. So, the question is does a great competitor completes you? Was Arjun great because Karna was his opponent? Was Achilles great because he chooses to fight the Trojan War in spite of chance of him getting killed? In general, does a great challenge brings the best out of you?

I think the answer to the questions will be, yes. A fierce competitor or battle makes the win more worthwhile. It brings the best out of every one whether you lose or not. Federer lost 6 times in Grand slam finals against Nadal, but not without a fight (most of the times). Does that statistics make Nadal a better player than Federer? I think no. The greatest out come of the battles was that both players craved the best out of their human potential to compete against each other. In the process they both became the best version of themselves. I think that is what Nadal (and Federer) realized when he said that a part of him will be leaving tennis with Federer's retirement. That is why both were attached emotionally to each other because they knew they were incomplete without the other.

But for most of us, our battles are hardly against opposite humans. Mostly we fight situations and some other times the demons within us. Normally we do not choose the situations ourselves but we always choose to fight or not. So, the next time you face a challenge where you think you will fail, just remember that life has thrown a worthy opponent at you.

A worthy opponent will transform you and make you a better warrior in the battles of life, whether you win or lose.

Should We Celebrate?

Last Tuesday Odisha celebrated its Foundation Day, commonly known as Utkal Divas. A function was organised by the administration in the township club. A renowned dance group was hired to perform at the function; one performance was an Odissi and the other was “Chhau” (I didn’t attend, had read the programme schedule). Snacks were distributed. People enjoyed the performance and went happily home. Same evening, some 200 kilometres to the west in Dhenkanal (a district of Odisha), a family of four committed mass suicide, due to poverty.

Next day in Office, one of my friends was inquiring two of us about our absence from the function last evening to celebrate Utkal Divas. One of us quoted the news from the morning newspaper about the mass suicide and in turn asked our 1st friend, “What have we achieved to celebrate Utkal Divas?” He had no answer.

In a broader sense, the question can be extended to any celebration of national importance. Should we really celebrate Republic Day, Independence Day or Gandhi Jayanti?

The first ever general elections in India were held in 1951. At that time, the major issues the political parties promised to solve were poverty, casteism, education. People were divided along the lines of caste and community, so were the political parties and their leaders. Congress considered Muslims population as a mere vote bank. Bharatiya Jan Sangh (founded by Shri Shyama Prasad Mukherjee), a nascent version of the present day BJP, sought support from the pro-Hindu population.

Elections will again be held in a few days’ time. But after being free for more than half a century the problems our nation face are the same. Muslims are still considered a vote bank, not only by the Congress Party but a bunch of other political parties also. BJP, though still pro-Hindu, has somehow moderated its stand towards Muslims. Caste based politics is still rife in parts of the country, mostly in UP and Bihar. Primary health care and Educations have been perpetually neglected. We do not have roads connection to village. Last Sunday, a student in the physics class mentioned, she had to cycle 3 kilometres, cross a river on a boat and ride another 2 kilometres to reach her degree college. In rainy seasons, she doesn’t go to college. We don’t find doctors in primary health care centres. People in KBK Districts (Koraput-Balangir-Kalahandi) migrate to the neighbouring states in search of work and if they do not, they die of hunger. Womens are raped at a frequency more than ever. Patel (with the aid of his secretary Mr. V.P. Menon) had painstakingly integrated more than 500 provinces in a span of few years to integrate the present day India and now it is being divided just to get few more votes in the next election.

India has made progress in the economic front (thanks to the ingenuity of Mr Manmohan Singh and the confidence Mr. PV Narsimha Rao had in him, else we would still have been rotting in Nehruvian policies) but the growth has not percolated to the poorest layer of the society.

Surely, present day India is not what Gandhi, Nehru and Patel had dreamt. If after more than 60 years as a free country we are yet to solve problems have we not failed? And if we have failed, should we celebrate?

Not directly related to the topic but important to mention. The following is an excerpt from a Nehru’s speech in 1951 at a UNESCO conference in Delhi:

“The quality of men who are selected by these modern democratic methods of adult franchise gradually deteriorates because of lack of thinking and noise of propaganda…..The voter reacts to sound and to the din, he reacts to repetition and he produces either a dictator or a dumb politician who is insensitive. Such a politician can stand all the din in the world and still remain standing on his two feet and therefore, he gets selected in the end because the others have collapsed because of the din”

I wonder how prophetic Nehru was.

Few Trees I Love

Since childhood I have always been a nature lover. I have loved the woods, mountains, the streams and the birds. I didn’t have any jungle near to my home, but had one near my maternal uncle’s place. In early days, people from the village used to go inside the jungle early in the morning to collect wood, by cutting trees illegally, and would return home late in the afternoon. I had always wanted to explore the jungle and had on numerous occasions, requested my uncles to let me accompany them. They usually promised, the night before, to take me with them, but every time in the next morning, I had found them gone. To satisfy my urge to explore the jungle, I used to go on my own on a bicycle, up to the edge of the jungle crossing the paddy fields, a small canal, till a small dam. The dam, used for collecting rain water from the huge catchment area from the jungles, supplied water for irrigation to the nearby villages. Near the dam, I would sit for hours under the coolness of the trees. Every now and then, I would throw stones in the water and gradually watch the waves fading away. My desire to explore the jungle remained unfulfilled up to my teens. It was fulfilled, partly though, during the sophomore year at NIT, when we had explored the jungles beyond the Koel River, as a part of the expedition arranged by the Trekking Club (I don’t know of its existence in campus these days, but it was at its infancy when we were in College). Then in IIP days in Dehradun, our hostel was situated at the edge of the jungle, only a patch of tea plantation separating the hostel and the jungle. The workers in the hostel mess had numerous stories on how they had encountered leopards many times near the hostel. During our 10 weeks stay, we had encountered only monkeys. On a Sunday morning, three of us had explored a little bit of the jungle.

My ancestral village had no jungles. But the paddy fields where we had cultivations, was dotted with a number of trees. During holidays, every morning we would accompany the elders to the fields and play under the shadows. While my sister used to keep herself busy with flowers and leaves, I used to build bridges over the small canals (for irrigation) using broken branches, leaves and mud. No wonder, she graduated in Botany and I choose engineering. We both had owned two trees, one was a bela (Agle Mermelose, thanks to my B.Tech Project, I still remember the Botanical name). I don’t remember the other's name. Every year, we would compare the height of the trees and her tree always won. The last time I visited my village in June ‘13; I had cycled down to the fields to see those two trees. Both still stand and stand tall. However, both the trees have stopped competing for height and seem to be happy in each other’s company. I spent a few moments under the shadow and returned.

One day, in a late afternoon during monsoon, when corn was being puffed, I had thrown few seeds here and there. Few days later, small seed germinated from the seeds. Two small leaves of light green colour emerged from the dark earth below. Gradually they grew bigger in time but only one survived. I took great care in protecting it from the stray dogs and buffaloes. Every day from school I would come running home and would have a sigh of relief when I found it undamaged. With time it bore corn of its own and died its natural death. That was my earliest memory of planting a tree or taking care of any. After first rains, you will find a number of small mango leaves arising out of everywhere. Along with friends, we used to relocate them to the nearby open fields. But due to lack of attention, somehow none have survived till date.

Till the year 2002, our home had two lemon trees and a guava tree. The lemon trees ensure a continuous supply of lemons to our kitchen. However, the guava one died may be because its roots didn’t spread enough due to presence of a large rock underneath. During the June-July months of the year 2002, I had free time before I left home for Rourkela. I had visited the local nursery and brought some 10-12 teak trees from the nursery. Along the boundary of our plot, I had planted them. At the same time, to the east side of our home, near the kitchen window, a mango tree had taken it roots, unknown to us. When we discovered it, it was big enough and beautiful enough, not be relocated to a better place. During the breaks in campus, I used to come home and the first thing I used to do was to look after the teak and mango trees. To ensure the straightness of the trunk of the teak, small stems were cut and not allowed to grow. The mango tree didn't need any of such attention. Somehow, I felt more close to the teak rather than the mango. I felt, my growth from teen to adulthood was synchronous with the growth of the teak trees. By the time I graduated, they were grown into tall ones. They had big leaves, the size of plates. In the afternoon breeze, they swayed from side to side, each one following the other. In between making some noise with their leaves as if appreciating each other. In the tranquility of the nights, they were standing still, noise less but in the light of the electric bulb they looked very much awake, as if guarding the house like vigilant sentinels guarding a fort. During stormy days, I was was afraid the weight of the leaves at the top would break the trunk. 

Somehow they had survived and were standing tall, till recently. During my visit home in February this year I found that the trees have been uprooted, to make way for a new boundary wall. The trunks of the teak trees lay beside a pile of bricks and sand. A part of me felt sad, for they would have been saved, had I planted them a few feet away. The same afternoon when I was repenting my mistakes, I was distracted by the chirping of birds. When I saw overhead, I could see few golden brown colour mango leaves and a bunch of flowers adoring the tip of the stem and I felt happy. In the hope of a new beginning (and few mangoes) I closed my eyes and started my afternoon siesta. 

rabindra

Update : The mango tree was also cut in March :( ...and I made up for it on 15th May'14 by planting a mango and a lychee behind my quarter in Paradip :).

A cook in need....is a cook indeed

After the kitchen was set up, hiring a cook was always on our mind. We were forced to give it a serious thought to it towards the end of November when the guest house meal prices were exorbitantly raised by 60%, from Rs. 40/ meal to Rs. 64/meal. 3 engineering minds could not relate the inflation in Indian economy with the rate hike in the Guest House. For a bland meal, it was way overpriced. Better economic judgment landed us in the conclusion that a cook was the need of the hour.

But finding a cook was much more difficult that what we had anticipated. And those who were easy to find were either incompetent or expensive. The first person we thought of hiring desired a salary of Rs. 8000/ per month. Cooking for one time a day, this was way too expensive. Another person desired a salary of Rs. 8500/-. He boasted of his credential in running a mess for few software engineers in Bangalore. On negotiation he agreed to give us a discount of Rs. 500/ month, since he will be staying closer to his home. In addition to that, he needed a place to stay with his family and two children. Both were rejected. We then considered hiring, the office boy, but was rejected for his reputation of below par performance in previous cooking assignments. Poaching was tried. The mess manager in Guest House was persuaded to join us. We negotiated that since, the turnover of the guest house shall decrease and per meal cost will increase, there is a likelihood of cost cutting and he may be axed from the guest house. But he rejected our offer because he was too busy in his current job. Then, we considered three persons, who work in shifts in an institution in township. The idea was, since they work in shifts, they can prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner in their free time. Further they were staying in township, so commuting to-fro shall not be difficult. It was a win-win situation for both the parties. However, this option was not explored further, for reasons unmentionable here. 

By this time, few close friends were aware of our situation. The married ones have better knowledge of this type of domestic activities and we tried to use their contacts to help us find one cook. This of course was followed by a warning that a failure to find one will result in unannounced arrival at their homes during dinner time.

Since one of us intermittently boasts of his culinary skills, we (the rest two) offered him a part time job as cook. Our offer included and was limited to

Daily free meals

Free ride to office and back.

Uninterrupted access to the internet and TV round the clock.

Considering his education as a chemical engineer, he desired a salary at par with an IOC engineer. We argued that, the job profile requires certain skills, which his education as a Chemical Engineer hasn’t provided. He has no formal education / training in cooking and no previous experiences, except few experiments in Gujarat Refinery Hostel, which lands him in the pool of unskilled labour. Hence he should be paid accordingly i.e. Rs. 250/ 8 hrs. of labour which works out to be ~ Rs. 1500/ month. He further argued that, his education in chemical engineering will enable him to optimise the gas burner and his knowledge in Thermodynamics can be used to calculate the boiling point of water inside the pressure cooker using the Mollier Diagram. The negotiation was not concluded.

Finally one person working in a friend’s office agreed. He cooked for a day and left unannounced for reasons best known to him. Another person agreed to cook for us, just to help and not as a medium for some extra earning. Out of sheer respect for his education (he is a Diploma holder in Electrical Engineering), we were reluctant. He cooked for us for few days. Finally contacts of our married friend and the warning paid rich dividend when one of our friend arranged a cook (he cooks in the temple on Sankranti every month). Since he stays in township and earns few extra bucks here, it’s a win-win situation for both of us. I hope he continues.

rabindra

The chill is not in the air...

Seasons invoke memories; at least they do to me. Last Sunday, I was lazing around and reading the newspaper simultaneously; when I saw an elderly couple and with a toddler for company in the park beside my quarter, basking in the delicate sunshine. At that time memories of the winters gone by flooded me.

When the North Pole starts its tilt away from the sun on equinox and winter sets in, it feels good to have the sun for company. In childhood, winter was a mix of pleasure and pain. In the morning, any effort to wake up from the comfort of blankets was subdued by the fear of chilled air. It would take many agitated cry from my mother to finally make me get out of bed. Straight after getting ready, I would run with the mat and the school bag to the open courtyard beside our house (actually a field where rice grain is separated from straw, “khala” in local dialect). A sweet spot would be chosen so that earth’s rotation around the sun wouldn’t make shadows of the surrounding trees fall on me, at least for the next 2 hours. Several adjustments would be made to the shawl wrapped around, to minimise the exposed skin. Lessons to study were chosen with the aim to minimise the use of hands to write. In between there would be an obligatory trip to the small fire village elders make and would squeeze myself to get some radiated heat. Before going to school, taking bath in the nearby river was a herculean effort. The sight of water vapour leaving the flowing water would intensify the fear. A jump and a dip in the chilled water would constitute the daily ablution. Lunch breaks in school were eagerly awaited and so were the weekly once game periods. Winter also meant shorter days and that severely hampered the number of cricket matches in the evening. The loss of cricket was badmintons gain. Makeshift lighting arrangements would be made in the evening for badminton games. Winter also bought time for new hand woven sweaters made by my mother and neighbouring aunties. There was an excitement in choosing the colour of the wool from a plethora of options the Kashmiri vendors provided. Intermediate checking of the sweater for fitting used to increase the anticipation for the final outcome.

During the under grad days in Rourkela, winter was time for serious study in the odd semesters and fun times in the even ones. Many fights, arguments and discussion were started on the hostel corridors soaking in the sun and ended with half glasses of tea in the hostel mess at 2 A.M. Some of the cricket enthusiastic would wake up till 5 A.M to catch live action from tours down under.

My first brush with the notorious north Indian chill came in the winter of 2006 in Dehradun and subsequently in Mathura. Winters in north India, more often than not, had the company of near zero temperature and dense fog. The drives to office were a tedious affair in negotiating some slow moving and some immobilised vehicles, considering the paucity of time and poor visibility. Winter also brings the sweet memories of Ramkumar’s alu gobhi paratha in breakfast and Brijwasi’s gajar halwa in post lunch meeting on the lawns beside Mc D.

But this December, has been totally different from the last 29 of my life. Proximity to the Bay of Bengal decreases the intensity of the cold by a notch or two. The happiness, in winning against temptation and getting up at 5:30 AM in cold December mornings, is a little restrained here in Paradip. The only tangible consolations are, having an awesome weather for biking and not repenting whenever I forget to switch on the geyser.

To the friends who are fortunate to exprience nature's extermities, happy winter and enjoy the chill.

rabindra
11-12-2013, 2115 hrs
Paradip

Thank You and a Good Bye

People say change is good. But change is painful. As I move into a different phase in my professional & personal life, somewhere it hurts to leave people I love and a place I like, which have been part of me for the last six and a half years.

Working in Mathura, has been a wonderful experience. I had the opportunity to work with some of the brilliant minds I have ever met. The environment I was fortunate to have been provided with, gave me ample opportunity to make mistakes and learn from them. I thank you all who have asked me questions, whose answers I didn't have, because that forced me to find the answers myself. This has helped greatly me in understanding how an organization runs.

On the personal front, this has been an enriching experience. I have made some great friends who are like family and have a share in contributing to the person I am. My journey to this day would have been less fulfilling had I not got your company along the way. Even though I am going to a new place within the same organization, I doubt if I’ll get the same love, affection and camaraderie anywhere else. I thank you all for your love and support which has never let me feel alone in Mathura, both in o.

Before I start feeling emotional composing this, I wish you the very best in all your endeavors; both in personal and professional life; within the organization and outside. The world is a small place and Indian Oil is still smaller. We will definitely meet once again at different times in our lives. I’ll definitely stay in touch through emails and phone. Sometimes I scribble my thoughts in my blog (http://circulatingreflux.blogspot.in/). Do visit it, if you have nothing better to do, to get the actual picture in Paradip.

I am planning to join Paradip Refinery on 14^th May 2013.

That’s all from my side and wishing you the very best once again.

Thanks &  Regards

rabindra

The Importance of A Right Choice

Few days ago, during an informal chat in the lobby of The Oberoi in Delhi, one fine gentleman told me that he regrets his choice of books he read during his life time. According to him, he had read only technical books related to his trade and nothing else. I paused for a moment, then let him carry on and in between, somehow controlled my urge to ask “What are the other things you regret?” That would have been rude, I guess. I’ll still ask him the question though, in private, some other day (the gentleman is my boss).

Most of us have reached the present stage of our lives because of the choices we had made years earlier. Some of us are in a better position than others because; probably we had chosen to do the right things and also because we were lucky enough to be in a position to choose. In future, at every stage of our lives, we will face situations where we have to make a choice. Most of the alternatives we will have in front will not be illegal and immoral (if they are then I feel they will not qualify as an “alternative” in first place). But still we face a certain amount of difficulty in taking a stand. 

I feel we should always choose something that makes us happy. If working extra hours in office makes you happy, then work hard but if reading a book you like makes you happy take time to read. Since, our presence is temporary (and that’s why it’s so beautiful), make the most of it. Do what you like and you won’t have the time to regret.

rabindra

13th February 2013, 2315 hrs.

Mathura

(I am off to doing what I like most i.e. reading; the next chapter of “The Elephant Paradigm”)

Life & Destiny, with a pinch of frustration.

On Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, I happened to talk to 3 different people. They are friends I love and care about. All three of them were unhappy over certain developments in their lives. In my opinion, at least in two cases, the developments were not bad or not as bad as my friends were feeling (again that’s my opinion, which hardly matter). I, being a good listener and a bad conversationalist, listened to them first and then in my attempt to be a good friend, suppressed my laconic instinct and tried to console them.

I tried to convince them, with a plethora of comfortable words that everything in this world happens for a reason. All three of them, were of the opinion that my conclusion on the reasons of an event/incident is just to soothe them in their moment of emotional discomfort. Ironically, I have heard the same advice a number of times and I also have reacted as my friends did. One of the above friends asked me (taking his situation in context) “What’s good in it?” Again trying to be an optimist, I replied “I don’t know now, but few days/months or may be years later we will know about good in it.

After talking to each of them, two questions came to my mind. First; “Is it true that, whatever happens, happen for good?” and second; “Is it bad to have expectations?” (Since the primary cause of the unhappiness was “expectation” in at least two of the above three cases).

In the first case, I believe that what happens happens for a reason. It may be an optimistic point of view. And it is also obvious that a particular incident in our lives will always have a connection to what happens next in our lives. (In the word “incident” I am not including the trivial happenings and incidents of irreparable damage like death of a close family member). On a counter view someone may argue, if something else had happened things could have been much better. This is also true. This may be called a pessimistic point of view. Again these two points of view are called pessimistic and optimistic, based on the fact that we are analysing the situations in retrospection, at a point of time, when we cannot undo the incident which has already happened. Unfortunately, in this cruel world, there is no place for the word “if”. So, instead of living in an illusion of “what could have been”, be realistic, positive and make the best of what life throws at you.

The second question was “Is it bad to have expectations?” Although, having expectations is the root of our disappointments, my answer to the question will be a “no”. It is not bad to have expectations, if the expectation comes with an effort to full fill it. Wishful thinking and ruining your present, for longing something you cannot have or missed in your past, is bad. Sometimes, we expect certain things to happen to us, on which we have no control or our efforts doesn’t influence the outcomes (unless you believe in the power of prayers, fasting, a coconut, few petals of flower and an incense stick). In such a scenario, the best things would be to accept whatever happens and move on. In cases, where your efforts have a place, try to give your best and accept the results. In both the cases, once the thing has happened, it becomes a moment in history which you could not change. But life can be very unfair. Sometimes, it doesn’t give you a chance to give 100% also (Ask me, I have a latest example from my life!!!).

But, when in distress, it is difficult to think rational or logical. I could write this because today I am not in a state of mind my friends are in. One would always ask, “What good is in for me?” or the more common “Why me?” At certain point of time all of us have been in similar situations as my friends are in and all of us have overcome the anxiety. Because, even though as human beings we are emotionally fragile, but we all have the resilience to prevail over our failures and disappointments. Every time we go through an emotional upheaval, we come out of it stronger and are more prepared to take life, head on.

But the answers to my two questions are debatable and I would love to hear your opinion.

rabindra

28th Novemebr 2012

Mathura

(To the 3 friends I mentioned earlier: If ever you read this and after reading you realise that you are one of the three friends then remember this. Even though I have a fair idea of the importance of your current disappointment in your life, I am not being judgemental. I can no way feel the intensity of your emotions. I wrote this just to make an effort to comfort you and partly me, and to let ourselves know that things will be all right once again. Also because, at least two of you were there for me when I needed you few days ago.)

Tribute to a Gentleman.

Probably I should have written this much before, somewhere around March 2012. But my timing is not as good as the man I am writing about. Since the day I started watching cricket, I have been a big fan of Sachin. On match days, his performance used to decide my mood. A score below expectation would drive me to melancholy. Interest in a cricket match was alive, as long as Sachin was in the middle. For such a fan, I was happy when Dravid used to get out, since that brought Sachin to the crease in tests. In one dayers, Rahul’s dismissal didn’t matter even more because everyone else seemed a better entertainer. In the times when, I cared more about the boundaries rather than a single, Rahul Dravid was a player I hated most.  

Things started to change after the epic Eden match. By the time an established player in the Indian line up Dravid provided the platform where others danced. After being labeled as a Test specialist in early part of his career, he fought his way back in to the team. Rahul’s career seems to be a constant fight. He wasn’t flamboyant with the bat like Sehwag or as gifted as Sourav Ganguly. When others entrained us with their talent, here was a man quietly fighting for every run. Most of his innings comprised of ones and twos and rare threes. Every run were earned rather than scored. When he batted the boundaries seemed bigger and the bowler seemed better than he actually is. Since he didn’t have the talent of a Sachin Tendulkar to hit the good balls to boundaries, he waited for the poor ones. And while playing against international teams of highest caliber poor deliveries are hard to find. But the biggest and probably the most important virtue of the  was patience. His batting was a constant battle between the bowlers skill and the batsman's will. About who will give up first, the bowler or the batsman? Having loads of patience, most of the time, it was the batsman. In one dayers, even after being a so called senior and established player, in the team, he was always in the firing line, whenever a name was required to be dropped. He kept wickets, bowled spin bowling (he has five international wickets) and when everything still didn’t work out; he carried drinks for his team mates. No fuss, no ego…”If this is what makes my team win, this is what I will do” attitude (very unlike one of his team mate who had refused to carry drinks on his debut tour).

Rahul Dravid, as a person is unknown to me. A person I have only heard and read about (Articles by his wife and few others in “Rahul Dravid: Timeless Steel” gives a very good insight to the person he is). In 2005, two of my seniors visited Bangalore during summer training. Since both were, like me in 2005 and till date, a big Dravid fan, wanted to meet him in person. When the both arrived at his residence, naturally the security guard didn’t allow them in and expectedly wasn’t convinced about their loyalty to the star batsman. Since both my seniors are very persuasive, which is very unlike me, they tried their level best to let them meet him once. By that time a middle aged lady returning from grocery arrived who luckily saw the boys pleading with the security guard. He was Dravid’s mother. She invited them inside and asked Dravid to meet the boys. Dravid obediently met my seniors, smilingly posed for the camera and wished them luck. If Dravid had refused or his mother had not paid heed to my seniors, probably they would have returned back sad but wouldn’t have minded since it is expected from the stars. But this incident showed the foundation on which he built his life. Here is a person with so much adulation in a cricket crazy nation, but still taking time out for two strangers. That day Dravid showed genius is humble. And by then probably he had realized that someday it will end, that success has an expiry date.

Another incident which I had read about is like this. When one interviewer had asked him what drives him to perform he had answered on following lines “…..everywhere I have travelled in India, I have seen talent. I have seen people more talented than me. But somehow in the struggle of life, they left their passion. Probably circumstances forced them but at the end they couldn’t be in the top 11 player in a country of a billion people. I play hard because I feel I owe them something. I am here, soaking in the adulation, because they are not here…..”. What a wonderful thought it was. When in the glory of success people tend to be pompous, here is a man thinking about the less fortunate.

Coming to adulation, Rahul Dravid will never be as celebrated as Sachin. And he has never been as celebrated as some of his team mates. Starting from his debut match, the lime light has been on someone else. In his debut test match (and also in World Cup 1999 match vs. Sri Lanka), it was Sourav Ganguly who was praised. In 2001 he was in the shadows of a Laxman. Dravid’s performances were like that of the Cinematographer or the Director in movie production, while the hero is the face of the movie, the strings are pulled by someone else.

Probably the only time he got all the attention he deserved was during his retirement press conference. But during all these, while we would have complained and would have felt envious, he scored runs. Probably when he wears that helmet, the steel frame isolates his from the world. He dives deeper into a zone where the only thing he has to fight against is his own temptations. A zone which you and me can only think and imagine about.

My biggest joy in my life as a cricket fan has been watching my two heroes (Sachin an Dravid) play together in a T-20 match in Jaipur. Of course in a perfect life, I would have wanted to see Sachin and Rahul in whites, involved in a riveting partnership against Australia (I would have preferred Steve Waugh as captain, he, being my another hero), but life always doesn’t give you what you desire.

Another incident which brought a big smile on my face was when I excitedly opened the wrapping of “Out of My Comfort Zone” (Steve Waugh’s Autobiography) and discovered that the foreword has been written by Rahul Dravid.

In the many years of playing cricket, Rahul Dravid, has been an inspiration. An example that, you need not been talented to be successful and hard work along with your attitude is what matters. He has been a joy to watch and an example to follow. He brought a sense of relief and assurance whenever I saw him at 1^st Slip or the third name in the batting line up read “R Dravid”.

Although I still wonder why was he called “The Wall”. Was it because when he batted one end of the lineup was impregnable or was it because he built his innings through singles / twos like building a wall brick by brick ? 

Probably, he himself would find it difficult to answer.

rabindra:-
27th Sept'12, 02:00 AM.
Mathura.

To Sir, with Love.

" कर्म्न्येवधिकरस्ते   मा  फ़लेसु   कदाचन  

मा कर्मफ़लहेतुभ्रुमा  ते  सद्गोस्त्वकर्मनि "

"You have a right to perform your prescribed action, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your action. Never consider yourself the cause of the results of your activities, and never be associated to not doing your duty"

Pattanayak Sir

The above two lines from “Bhagwad Gita” aptly summarizes your professional life. With your selfless dedication and unrelenting spirit, you have amazed and inspired us. The zeal for hard work combined with your inquisitiveness of a child helped us unlearn many things and relearn them. Perseverance and dedication has been your constant companion. Your clarity in thought and eye for details has been our guide as well as saviour. Your readiness to listen to the naïve and learn new things from a younger generation, at an age when people tend to preach, shows a rare side of your persona. Among the chaos we all brought in, your presence was the calmness we needed.

On retrospection, after an envious journey of 36 years, you should be proud of your contribution towards the corporation. And along the way you have shaped and inspired many a young minds.

At the onset of a new beginning in your life, we pray for sound health and happy times ahead for you along with you family.

Wishing good luck to a man we admire.

Technical Services Team

Mathura Refinery

(I had written this piece when we were planning a farewell gift for Pattanayak Sir when he superannuated.  We wanted to frame this after everybody's signature and gift it to him. Unsure of the final fate of the note, I decided to publish it. Pattanayak Sir was my Chief Manager till he retired on 31st Aug'12. He was Senior Manager in Technical Services Department in Mathura Refinery, when I joined. After working separately in different departments for five years, I had the privilege of working under him since Aug' 11 till his retirement. He is also the first boss of my professional life to grant me leave, and on a lighter note, it is one of the many reason I admire him.)

Confessions of a Cricket Fan

My first memory of cricket is from an era when every moving thing on a cricket field were in white and chased a dark dot in a rectangular area. At that time I didn’t under stand why the dark dot or the players never came out of the rectangular box. That was the time when I used to go with my father to a neighbors home to watch cricket on TV. The ball was not of the color red because the television those days did not know any color other than black and white. The neighbors’ television happened to be the only one in the village and was my first window to the world outside. It was the medium through which I was introduced to Hanuman’s super power, Arjun’s skill with the bow and an arrow, Amitabh Bacchhan and the film "Sholay". Those days newspapers were for the elite and a transistor radio was a prized possession.I was young and my world was a lot smaller.

After watching cricket, and without understanding what 22 people are doing, I used to come back home spread the mat I used to study on, imagine it to be the pitch and practice shadow batting and bowling without any bat / ball (15 years later I learned the phrase “shadow batting”) with two (unhappy) spectators in my elder sister and mother. The seed that was planted inside me 20 years ago has grown into a tree.

I first got a bat, handmade from a single piece of wood at my uncles, at the age of seven or eight. Possessing a bat was an advantage I abused because no game was played in my absence and more often than not I chose the place I bat. One day my bat developed a crack after a senior knocked a hard ball with my bat. At that time he was the person I hated most. The next few days were spent arranging cycle tubes and a blade for bandaging my most valuable asset. I also strapped the handle with the rubber to have a better grip with it to counter my sweaty palm. As I grew up, cricket was the only game I knew, played and thought worth playing.

In class four, we shifted home to a new place. Suddenly my every other neighbor had a TV set and the local news paper was readily available in the paan shop near my home. With the change in place, I lost the advantage of having a cricket bat as the place had a proper cricket team who played in hard balls. Young boys of my age were happy playing with partially broken bats and plastic balls. We would accompany seniors to the cricket matches to carry the kit and fetch the balls when ever it crossed the boundary. We were proud of it. When I learned to listen to the cricket commentary and read the paragraphs under the photos of a batsman / bowler in oriya newspaper’s last page, “Tendulkar” happened to be the most frequently used word. Although I hardly understood the English commentary, I could easily guess that they are talking of someone named “Tendulkar”. With time I learned to identify the players with their batting styles. Till then every one having a pair of pads and a helmet looked similar. Whenever the batsman ducked and adjusted his abdominal guard before taking strike, it brought cheers and a sparkle in my eyes. But at the same time it was accompanied by a sense of fear also because Indian Team’s fortunes were depended on how well Tendulkar plays the very next delivery. Every boundary Sachin scored made me feel that there is no better place on earth other then the small piece of area I occupied in front of a TV. I had an neighbor who had a curly hairstyle like Tendulkar’s and was of similar height and I boasted among my friends that I lived next door to him (he has changed his hair style since but height are still comparable).

Just before the world cup of 1996, Television made debut in our home in the form of a black and white portable Onida TV. That day I felt that I have fulfilled almost all perquisite of a cricket fan. Since then my mood in a match day fluctuated with the performance of the Indian cricket team. A bad performance from the team in losing cause had the ability to prevent me from taking my dinner. The gloominess would persists until I criticized the players in the after match discussion next day in school. At the same time an Indian win was considered and celebrated as a personal achievement. Sri Lankans were villain when India lost the semifinal to Sri Lanka in 1996 and I seriously thought Azharuddin was bribed to choose bowling after he won the toss. Seven months later Shahid Afridi was my hero when he blazed away to the fastest ODI century in Nairobi because he did that against the Lankans.

I have always felt a sense of personal satisfaction in the achievements of the Indian players especially that of Tendulkar, Dravid, Ganguly, Kumble and Laxman. These were the players I grew up watching and provided me a sense of pride for being an Indian. With age I matured and had better control over emotions. From a jingoistic cricket fan I was transformed to an admirer of performance. I rejoiced when Steve Waugh hit that brilliant 120 not out against South Africa in 1999 World Cup, hated Allan Donald for that run out and wanted to catch a cricket ball like Mark Waugh did to get rid of the Pakistani Opener Wasti in the Final.

In 1999, I was introduced to the word “Physics” and was immediately impressed when the subject had answers to the questions cricket had thrown at me. Soon I fell in love with the subject because it explained almost everything happening around me. I learned why Rahul Dravid keeps his bottom hand loose when defending a bouncer and why Wasim Akram wanted the ball to shine only on one side of the seam. “Bails” falling towards the batsman when he is clean bowled off a fast bowler was also explained. I understood why the fielder at point should be the best among the eleven and why he should stand squarer on a slow pitch. I understood why a fielder pulls his hands back while taking a catch. With more grasp on the English language I was exposed to the vast knowledge of the cricket commentators.

In the 2000s, Australia was the second “Pakistan” for me. Nothing was sweeter than an Australian defeat. But I admired and most of the time envied their dedication and commitment on the field. Under the leadership of Steve Waugh, a man when batting was like a monk, they were the team to beat. Laxman’s and Dravid’s innings in the March of 2001 imbibed self confidence in the Indian team and which I feel was the turning point for Indian cricket. The scar of that partnership and the new found belongingness of the Indian Team in the biggest stage were too much of a pressure for the Australians. They crumbled and wilted. Ironically Steve Waugh, who was considered one of the mentally toughest cricketer, was out in one innings “handling the ball”. Waugh was a cricketer I admired most. When he walked into the shades at the SCG in 2004 after being caught by Sachin off Kumble in his final test the cricket fan inside me was sad not because he had saved the test for the Aussies with a fighting half century that was filled with all the characteristics of the man himself but because I would miss him at short cover.

While the fan inside me improved day by day the player inside me made zero progress. That’s because I was destined to be a Chemical Engineer in an Oil Refinery but primarily because improving as a player needed much more effort than sitting in front of a TV.

The Indian team under Saurav Gangly reached the finals in 2003 World Cup and was beaten comprehensively by the brilliance of Ricky Ponting. We lost not because we lacked skill, but because we were in awe that we were playing a WC final and probably we were a bit surprised too.

8 years and 1 day later on 24^th March 2011, when the ball raced past the cover fielder in Motera, the ghosts of 2003 were gone. Although the Semifinal vs Pakistan was not of the same class as that of the 1996 Quarter Final or the Centurion game in 2003 but the results was what every Indian wanted. The inspired performance of the bowlers and fielders revived the believe that we can win.

On 2^nd April 2011 1430 hrs onwards, the “fan who loves good cricket” inside me will die a brief death and a selfish jingoistic Indian will cheer for the men in blue. I hope Sachin once again make the small area infront of my TV (this time it’s a color one) the best place on earth.

Do watch the match closely because some day you will proudly tell your grandchild that you watched the match live when India won 2011 World Cup Cricket.

(That doesn’t mean that Indian Cricket will not have any more moment of glory after 2^nd April 2011 and till the time your grand child asks you “How did India win the World Cup 2011?”)

-rabindra-

The Summers I Lived.

There is a story where an old man asks his daughter-in-laws about which season they liked most. The youngest and also the smartest of them had given a politically correct answer that every season is equally good and has its own place in the meteorological cycle. If the same question were asked to me few years ago (around 15 to be more accurate) my answer would have been “summer”. The choice has been greatly influenced by the fact that the most part of the whole season starting from mid-March to end June is the time when our schools were closed or we used to have morning sessions only i.e from 7.00 AM to 11.00 AM. That means less time to study and more time for fun. During morning sessions of our schools we would eagerly wait for the closing bells to ring and then throwing the bags at home would straight away run to the nearest mango yard. The activity of falling mangoes with stones required great aim, stamina, strength and of course “stones”, which would become scarce as the season progresses. At times we would ferry stones bound in our towels from the near by river bed to meet the demand supply gap. As long as the stones last or till some elder scold us we would continue to aim at the mangoes, most of the times without success. But as we grew older our strike rate had improved significantly. After reaching the river the dive into the cold and deep water used to be the most satisfying moment of the whole day. All the children of the village would play variety of games inside deep water. The adroit swimmer of course would win all the time. Back from the river, it would be time for lunch which was followed by an afternoon siesta (a much longer version of siesta to be accurate). The evenings were spent playing cricket / marbles (and a variety of games whose names I can’t remember). The next day the same routine gets repeated. After the schools declared summers holiday it would be all fun for whole two months. I used to spend most part of our holidays at our uncles. We had neither TV nor electricity for any sort of entertainment. The hot afternoons were spent reading books and playing indoor games. In the night, all the children would sleep in the open courtyard surrounded by elders. The grandmothers used to entertain (and scare) us with a variety of stories, and we didn’t know when we would sleep under the open sky with the cool summer breeze around. Although the stories were repeated every year, they were never a bit less fascinating. On other days we would count stars, locate the pole star and some time follow the moving stars (I didn’t know that time that they are called satellites) till they disappear. Sometimes before sleep, I and my elder sister would count no of vehicles passing through a bridge nearby our home. We would own one of the directions and the number of vehicles passing from ones’ direction to other’s used to be the score. The game used to continue till one of us fall asleep, and in most of the case it was me. We used have early mornings because of two major reasons. First, because the days were longer and hence the sun used to rise early (still rises early, only difference is we don’t witness it these days), second reason was more of a gourmet’s desire. In early morning, we would go to the mango yard to collect ripe fallen mangoes from the previous night. The earlier you go the fuller your bags would be from the tastier trees. In the afternoon we used have competitions among children as well as adults to finish off the mangoes collected. It was great fun. Summers also meant for us to have spare time to read. We used buy a variety of story books and magazines for the whole two months. I am still reaping the benefits from the habit of reading.

As I have grown older the summer also seems to have become hotter. There are neither schools nor holidays. The only place I find a mango is at the vegetable shops that too artificially ripen by Acetylene. The cold river stream has been replaced by tap water. I don’t play with friends. Air conditioned rooms have replaced the cool open air beds. I haven’t seen the pole star and I haven’t followed a moving star since ages. And also grand ma’s stories these days don’t scare me to sleep anymore.

I wish if I could live those days again…..

(And in the meantime Delhi Daredevils have kept themselves alive in IPL-3 by beating the Chennai Super Kings).

rabindra
16th April 2010, 0030 Hours.

#$%&!?

Every now and then whenever you think life is perfect, it springs up a new surprise. And suddenly your perfect world comes crashing down and your mind gets infected with all the absurd thoughts that it could ever think. I don’t know if it happens with me or everyone else but I imagine that the worst thing will happen. But thankfully most of the times even if things could go wrong they generally don’t.

I have realized how things change quickly and how even after an eternity they remain the same. What do you think about the changes, bad or good, that happen in our lives? Are they consequences of our past actions (may be inactions) or are merely destiny? I think, we all are somehow responsible for our present conditions. But when the conditions are bad, we blame it on destiny or bad luck. Seriously, how many times have you thanked destiny, rather than yourself, for your success??? Destiny or luck can place you at the right place at the right time. But achieving your goal has to be your initiative.

Coming back to the surprises life throws at us, don’t you think if every thing were perfect life would be boring? If everything happened in a predestined way then human race wouldn’t have been as developed a species as it. Along with the surprises we have the required skill to deal with them.

The point of discussing all these things is that, I have been in these types of circumstances many times in my life. At the face of adversity, life seemed less colorful and the world a bitter place to live. Abilities have been questioned and shortcomings have been discovered. Choices made in the past, have tormented. Mind has been filled with doubts and hopelessness. But that is when I have remembered a character in “Shawsank’s Redemption” where he thinks that hope is probably the best thing in the world. My thoughts haven't been different before. And this time also its the same.

Prologue

A man (I hope woman too), would do anything to kill TIME (“SOLITUDE” will be more appropriate in my case). Though writing was never my hobby, I was inspired by the recent craze about blogging. Especially after some famous movie celebrities decided to go public with their personal lives and our media person were quick to seize the opportunity to earn some quick bucks by publishing the details. Although I do not blame them (after all it’s their bread and butter), they could divert their energy and tremendous potential to more constructive causes. India as a country has enough problem to worry about then to think over Mr. Bacchhan’s lost baggage or his war of words with Mr.Sinha. Coming back to my writing…should I say typing (I hardly use a pen these days)...I thought over it many times before...even during college days. One of my aunts had also suggested me to write down thoughts in case I feel lonely. But I was lazy enough to never attempt writing (now onwards consider writing and typing as synonyms). Till date what ever I have written had the sole purpose of getting some marks to clear the numerous examinations (read hurdles) that I had to clear (cross) before I became a graduate engineer. And in that writings too mathematical expressions and numbers were more frequent than ornamental paragraphs. This was the reason why I had scored more than 90% in Mathematics but a paltry 65 % in Oriya in class 10th exam. As a novice in this field, I thought that I would be nice if I could get a feedback from my dear friends (who I miss so much). That’s when the idea of blogging came into my mind. Although I never aspire my blog to be as famous as Mr. Bacchhan’s and discussed among the so called Page-3 public, but I desire that some of my friends, who matter more to me than Page-3 public, take time off their busy schedule, if possible, to browse through my blog and give their opinion on my writing as well my points of views. I honestly hope they would do that.

Now, after I decided to blog than another dilemma arises…..what to write about. Coming back to my aunt’s suggestion to write about my thoughts, I would love to do that and most of the times I will do that. But thoughts would come to your mind only if you think. I hardly ever thought about anything that didn’t affect me are anyone I know. But there are many issues that can be discussed and thought over. And if you think deeply about anything, than I bet you will be a much richer person (in terms intellectual property….don’t worry. No government in this world has levied tax on this type of property till now). Thinking as well as writing your thoughts down will also broadens your view points. I also choose writing as it is easier way to spread your thought. You can give as much time as you want to write down your thought and correct as many times as you can till you are satisfied with the content. More over it has an intangible benefit by improving your English vocabulary and grammar. I have been trying to learn it since last 15 - 16 years and yet to maser it. I think enough has been written about the background happenings that made this blog a reality. Now I should divert some of my time to think something to write about in my next post.

But before I do that, I would like to use this opportunity to thank few people / things / corporation who have made blogging (writing, typing…what ever you like to call it) for me a little bit easier. First of all I would like to thank my parents, elder sister and teachers, who provided me education so that I could read and write well (and well enough to share it). My aunt, who had first suggested writing to me. Mr. Bill Gates and his colleagues as well as ex-colleagues at Microsoft Corporation, for developing such wonderful tool as MS Word (which acts as a guide and offers immediately, a correction to my mistakes. MS Excel is equally helpful in office). Indian Oil Corporation, who gave me a loan to buy a laptop, provided me electricity (at a nominal charge of Rs. 16.00 per month) and free access to internet. Numerous books, newspaper articles, their authors as well as publishers for broadening my knowledge so that I can pen down my own thoughts. I would like to thank GOD, for giving me the determination and opportunity to write. I would also like to thank all my friends who have been a part of my life ever since we met and helped me to be the person I am. Last but not the least; I would like to thank and congratulate myself for taking so much pain and spending so much time (which I could religiously use, without any guilt, to doze off…) to write down my thoughts.

I hope I shall develop my writing habit and keep on updating my blog….consistently.

With love
rabindra:

A word of caution: Everything I have written/shall write is/shall be just a personal opinion. I never intend to hurt anybody’s sentiments, intentionally or otherwise.