I Think, I Question , I Act

The Road Not Taken

Ajit Kumar — Tue, 18 May 2010 08:39:51 +0000

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

– Robert Lee Frost (1874-1963)

Nehru Dynasty

Ajit Kumar — Fri, 07 May 2010 19:14:43 +0000

Nehru Dynasty

Harmohan Singh Walia

At the very beginning of his book, “The Nehru Dynasty”, astrologer K. N. Rao mentions the names ofJawahar Lal’s father and grandfather. Jawahar Lal’s father was believed to be Moti Lal and Moti Lal’s father was one Gangadhar Nehru. And we all know that Jawahar Lal’s only daughter was Indira Priyadarshini Nehru; Kamala Nehru was her mother, who died in Switzerland of tuberculosis. She was totally against Indira’s proposed marriage with Feroze. Why? No one tells us that! Now, who is this Feroze? We are told, by many that he was the son of the family grocer. The grocer supplied wines, etc. to Anand Bhavan, previously known as Ishrat Manzil, which once belonged to a Muslim lawyer named Mobarak Ali. Moti Lal was earlier an employee of Mobarak Ali. What was the family grocer’s name?

One frequently hears that Rajiv Gandhi’s grandfather was Pandit Nehru. But then we all know that everyone has two grandfathers, the paternal and the maternal grandfathers. In fact, the paternal grandfather is deemed to be the more important grandfather in most societies. Why is it then nowhere we find Rajiv Gandhi’s paternal grandfather’s name? It appears that the reason is simply this. Rajiv Gandhi’s paternal grandfather was a Muslim gentleman from the Junagadh area of Gujarat. This Muslim grocer by the name of Nawab Khan had married a Parsi woman after converting her to Islam. This is the source where from the myth of Rajiv being a Parsi was derived. Rajiv’s father Feroze was Feroze Khan before he married Indira, against Kamala Nehru’s wishes. Feroze’s mother’s family name was Ghandy, often associated with Parsis and this was changed to Gandhi, sometime before his wedding with Indira, by an affidavit.

The fact of the matter is that (and this fact can be found in many writings) Indira was very lonely. Chased out of the Shantiniketan University by Guru Dev Rabindranath himself for misdemeanor, the lonely girl was all by herself, while father Jawahar was busy with politics, pretty women and illicit sex; the mother was in hospital. Feroze Khan, the grocer’s son was then in England and he was quite sympathetic to Indira and soon enough she changed her religion, became a Muslim woman and married Feroze Khan in a London mosque. Nehru was not happy; Kamala was dead already or dying. The news of this marriage eventually reached Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. Gandhi urgently called Nehru and practically ordered him to ask the young man to change his name from Khan to Gandhi. It had nothing to do with change of religion, from Islam to Hinduism for instance. It was just a case of a change of name by an affidavit. And so Feroze Khan became Feroze Gandhi. The surprising thing is that the apostle of truth, the old man soon to be declared India’s Mahatma and the ‘Father of the Nation’ didn’t mention this game of his in the famous book, ‘My Experiments with Truth’. Why?

When they returned to India, a mock ‘Vedic marriage’ was instituted for public consumption. On this subject, writes M. O. Mathai (a longtime private secretary of Nehru) in his renowned (but now suppressed by the GOI) ‘Reminiscences of the Nehru Age’ on page 94, second paragraph: “For some inexplicable reason, Nehru allowed the marriage to be performed according to Vedic rites in 1942. An inter-religious and inter-caste marriage under Vedic rites at that time was not valid in law. To be legal, it had to be a civil marriage.

It’s a known fact that after Rajiv’s birth Indira and Feroze lived separately, but they were not divorced. Feroze used to harass Nehru frequently for money and also interfere in Nehru’s political activities. Nehru got fed up and left instructions not to allow him into the Prime Minister’s residence Trimurthi Bhavan. Mathai writes that the death of Feroze came as a relief to Nehru and Indira. The death of Feroze in 1960 before he could consolidate his own political forces is itself a mystery. Feroze had even planned to remarry.

Those who try to keep tabs on our leaders in spite of all the suppressions and deliberate misinformation are aware of the fact that the second son of Indira (or Mrs. Feroze Khan) known as Sanjay Gandhi was not the son of Feroze. He was the son of another Moslem gentleman, Mohammad Yunus. Here, in passing, we might mention that the second son was originally named Sanjiv. It rhymed with Rajiv, the elder brother’s name. When he was arrested by the British police in England and his passport impounded for having stolen a car it was changed to Sanjay. Krishna Menon was then India’s High Commissioner in London. He offered to issue another passport to the felon who changed his name to Sanjay.

Incidentally, Sanjay’s marriage with the Sikh girl Menaka (now they call her Maneka for Indira Gandhi found the name of Lord Indra’s court dancer rather offensive!) took place quite surprisingly in Mohammad Yunus’ house in New Delhi. And the marriage with Menaka who was a model (She had modeled for Bombay Dyeing wearing just a towel) was not so ordinary either. Sanjay was notorious in getting unwed young women pregnant. Menaka too was rendered pregnant by Sanjay. It was then that her father, Colonel Anand, threatened Sanjay with dire consequences if he did not marry her daughter. And that did the trick. Sanjay married Menaka. It was widely reported in Delhi at the time that Mohammad Yunus was unhappy at the marriage of Sanjay with Menaka; apparently he had wanted to get him married with a Muslim girl of his choice.

It was Mohammad Yunus who cried the most when Sanjay died in the plane accident. In Yunus’ book, ‘Persons, Passions & Politics’ one discovers that baby Sanjay had been circumcised following Islamic custom, although the reason stated was phimosis. It was always believed that Sanjay used to blackmail Indira Gandhi and due to this she used to turn a blind eye when Sanjay Gandhi started to run the country as though it were his personal fiefdom. Was he black mailing her with the secret of who his real father was? When the news of Sanjay’s death reached Indira Gandhi, the first thing she wanted to know was about the bunch of keys which Sanjay had with him.

Nehru was no less a player in producing bastards. Atleast one case is very graphically described by M. O. Mathai in his “Reminiscences of the Nehru Age”, page 206. Mathai writes: “In the autumn of 1948 (India became free in 1947 and a great deal of work needed to be done) a young woman from Benares arrived in New Delhi as a sanyasin named Shraddha Mata (an assumed and not a real name). She was a Sanskrit scholar well versed in the ancient Indian scriptures and mythology. People, including MPs, thronged to her to hear her discourses. One day S. D. Upadhyaya, Nehru’s old employee, brought a letter in Hindi from Shraddha Mata. Nehru gave her an interview in the PM’s house. As she departed, I noticed (Mathai is speaking here) that she was young, shapely and beautiful. Meetings with her became rather frequent, mostly after Nehru finished his work at night. During one of Nehru’s visits to Lucknow, Shraddha Mata turned up there, and Upadhyaya brought a letter from her as usual. Nehru sent her the reply; and she visited Nehru at midnight.

“Suddenly Shraddha Mata disappeared. In November 1949 a convent in Bangalore sent a decent looking person to Delhi with a bundle of letters. He said that a young woman from northern India arrived at the convent a few months ago and gave birth to a baby boy. She refused to divulge her name or give any particulars about herself. She left the convent as soon as she was well enough to move out but left the child behind. She however forgot to take with her a small cloth bundle in which, among other things, several letters in Hindi were found. The Mother Superior, who was a foreigner, had the letters examined, and was told they were from the Prime Minister. The person who brought the letters surrendered them. “I (Mathai) made discreet inquiries repeatedly about the boy but failed to get a clue about his whereabouts. Convents in such matters are extremely tightlipped and secretive. Had I succeeded in locating the boy, I would have adopted him. He must have grown up as a Catholic Christian blissfully ignorant of who his father was.”

Coming back to Rajiv Gandhi, we all know now that he changed his so called Parsi religion to become a Catholic to marry Sania Maino of Turin, Italy. Rajiv became Roberto. His daughter’s name is Bianca and son’s name is Raul. Quite cleverly the same names are presented to the people of India as Priyanka and Rahul. What is amazing is the extent of our people’s ignorance in such matters. The press conference that Rajiv Gandhi gave in London after taking over as prime minister of India was very informative. In this press conference, Rajiv boasted that he was NOT a Hindu but a Parsi. Mind you, speaking of the Parsi religion, he had no Parsi ancestor at all. His grandmother (father’s mother) had turned Muslim after having abandoned the Parsi religion to marry Nawab Khan.

It is the western press that waged a blitz of misinformation on behalf of Rajiv. From the New York Times to the Los Angeles Times and the Washington Post, the big guns raised Rajiv to heaven. The children’s encyclopedias recorded that Rajiv was a qualified Mechanical Engineer from the revered University of Cambridge. No doubt US kids are among the most misinformed in the world today! The reality is that in all three years of his tenure at that University Rajiv had not passed a single examination. He had therefore to leave Cambridge without a certificate. Sonia too had the same benevolent treatment. She was stated to be a student in Cambridge. Such a description is calculated to mislead Indians. She was a student in Cambridge all right but not of the University of Cambridge but of one of those fly by night language schools where foreign students come to learn English. Sonia was working as an ‘au pair’ girl in Cambridge and trying to learn English at the same time.

And surprise of surprises, Rajiv was even cremated as per vedic rites in full view of India’s public. This is the Nehru dynasty that India worships and now an Italian leads a prestigious national party because of just one qualification – being married into the Nehru family. Maneka Gandhi itself is being accepted by the non-Congress parties not because she was a former model or an animal lover, but for her links to the Nehru family. Saying that an Italian should not lead India will amount to narrow mindedness, but if Sania Maino (Sonia) had served India like say Mother Teresa or Annie Besant, i.e. in anyway on her own rights, then all Indians should be proud of her just as how proud we are of Mother Teresa.

Godse’s defense speech in court (a must read)

Ajit Kumar — Wed, 05 May 2010 11:32:09 +0000

Before you read this speech by Nathuram Godse, one request is don’t take it personally.

There may be Gandhiji admirers but this is Nathuram Godse’s speech, views and reasons (It’s not my creation).

————————————————————————————————————

Godse’s defense speech in court (a must read)

This is the speech given by Nathuram Godse in the court when he was tried for the murder of Mahatma Gandhi

—————————————————————————————————————————

Born in a devotional Brahmin family, I instinctively came to revere Hindu religion, Hindu history and Hindu culture. I had, therefore, been intensely proud of Hinduism as a whole. As I grew up I developed a tendency to free thinking unfettered by any superstitious allegiance to any isms, political or religious. That is why I worked actively for the eradication of untouchability and the caste system based on birth alone. I openly joined anti-caste movements and maintained that all Hindus were of equal status as to rights, social and religious and should be considered high or low on merit alone and not through the accident of birth in a particular caste or profession. I used publicly to take part in organized anti-caste dinners in which thousands of Hindus, Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaisyas, Chamars and Bhangis participated. We broke the caste rules and dined in the company of each other.

I have read the speeches and writings of Dadabhai Nairoji, Vivekanand, Gokhale, Tilak, along with the books of ancient and modern history of India and some prominent countries like England, France, America and’ Russia. Moreover I studied the tenets of Socialism and Marxism. But above all I studied very closely whatever Veer Savarkar and Gandhiji had written and spoken, as to my mind these two ideologies have contributed more to the moulding of the thought and action of the Indian people during the last thirty years or so, than any other single factor has done.

All this reading and thinking led me to believe it was my first duty to serve Hindudom and Hindus both as a patriot and as a world citizen. To secure the freedom and to safeguard the just interests of some thirty crores (300 million) of Hindus would automatically constitute the freedom and the well being of all India, one fifth of human race. This conviction led me naturally to devote myself to the Hindu Sanghtanist ideology and programme, which alone, I came to believe, could win and preserve the national independence of Hindustan, my Motherland, and enable her to render true service to humanity as well.

Since the year 1920, that is, after the demise of Lokamanya Tilak, Gandhiji’s influence in the Congress first increased and then became supreme. His activities for public awakening were phenomenal in their intensity and were reinforced by the slogan of truth and non-violence, which he paraded ostentatiously before the country. No sensible or enlightened person could object to those slogans. In fact there is nothing new or original in them. They are implicit in every constitutional public movement. But it is nothing but a mere dream if you imagine that the bulk of mankind is, or can ever become, capable of scrupulous adherence to these lofty principles in its normal life from day to day. In fact, honour, duty and love of one’s own kith and kin and country might often compel us to disregard non-violence and to use force. I could never conceive that an armed resistance to an aggression is unjust. I would consider it a religious and moral duty to resist and, if possible, to overpower such an enemy by use of force. [In the Ramayana] Rama killed Ravana in a tumultuous fight and relieved Sita. [In the Mahabharata], Krishna killed Kansa to end his wickedness; and Arjuna had to fight and slay quite a number of his friends and relations including the revered Bhishma because the latter was on the side of the aggressor. It is my firm belief that in dubbing Rama, Krishna and Arjuna as guilty of violence, the Mahatma betrayed a total ignorance of the springs of human action.

In more recent history, it was the heroic fight put up by Chhatrapati Shivaji that first checked and eventually destroyed the Muslim tyranny in India. It was absolutely essentially for Shivaji to overpower and kill an aggressive Afzal Khan, failing which he would have lost his own life. In condemning history’s towering warriors like Shivaji, Rana Pratap and Guru Gobind Singh as misguided patriots, Gandhiji has merely exposed his self-conceit. He was, paradoxical, as it may appear, a violent pacifist who brought untold calamities on the country in the name of truth and non-violence, while Rana Pratap, Shivaji and the Guru will remain enshrined in the hearts of their countrymen forever for the freedom they brought to them.

The accumulating provocation of thirty-two years, culminating in his last pro-Muslim fast, at last goaded me to the conclusion that the existence of Gandhi should be brought to an end immediately. Gandhi had done very well in South Africa to uphold the rights and well being of the Indian community there. But when he finally returned to India he developed a subjective mentality under which he alone was to be the final judge of what was right or wrong. If the country wanted his leadership, it had to accept his infallibility; if it did not, he would stand aloof from the Congress and carry on his own way. Against such an attitude there can be no halfway house. Either Congress had to surrender its will to his and had to be content with playing second fiddle to all his eccentricity, whimsicality, metaphysics and primitive vision, or it had to carry on without him. He alone was the Judge of everyone and everything; he was the master brain guiding the civil disobedience movement; no other could know the technique of that movement. He alone knew when to begin and when to withdraw it. The movement might succeed or fail, it might bring untold disaster and political reverses but that could make no difference to the Mahatma’s infallibility. ‘A Satyagrahi can never fail’ was his formula for declaring his own infallibility and nobody except himself knew what a Satyagrahi is.

Thus, the Mahatma became the judge and jury in his own cause. These childish insanities and obstinacies, coupled with a most severe austerity of life, ceaseless work and lofty character made Gandhi formidable and irresistible. Many people thought that his politics were irrational but they had either to withdraw from the Congress or place their intelligence at his feet to do with, as he liked. In a position of such absolute irresponsibility Gandhi was guilty of blunder after blunder, failure after failure, disaster after disaster.

Gandhi’s pro-Muslim policy is blatantly in his perverse attitude on the question of the national language of India. It is quite obvious that Hindi has the most prior claim to be accepted as the premier language. In the beginning of his career in India, Gandhi gave a great impetus to Hindi but as he found that the Muslims did not like it, he became a champion of what is called Hindustani. Everybody in India knows that there is no language called Hindustani; it has no grammar; it has no vocabulary. It is a mere dialect; it is spoken, but not written. It is a bastard tongue and crossbreed between Hindi and Urdu, and not even the Mahatma’s sophistry could make it popular. But in his desire to please the Muslims he insisted that Hindustani alone should be the national language of India. His blind followers, of course, supported him and the so-called hybrid language began to be used. The charm and purity of the Hindi language was to be prostituted to please the Muslims. All his experiments were at the expense of the Hindus.

From August 1946 onwards the private armies of the Muslim League began a massacre of the Hindus. The then Viceroy, Lord Wavell, though distressed at what was happening, would not use his powers under the Government of India Act of 1935 to prevent the rape, murder and arson. The Hindu blood began to flow from Bengal to Karachi with some retaliation by the Hindus. The Interim Government formed in September was sabotaged by its Muslim League members right from its inception, but the more they became disloyal and treasonable to the government of which they were a part, the greater was Gandhi’s infatuation for them. Lord Wavell had to resign as he could not bring about a settlement and he was succeeded by Lord Mountbatten. King Log was followed by King Stork.

The Congress, which had boasted of its nationalism and socialism, secretly accepted Pakistan literally at the point of the bayonet and abjectly surrendered to Jinnah. India was vivisected and one-third of the Indian territory became foreign land to us from August 15, 1947. Lord Mountbatten came to be described in Congress circles as the greatest Viceroy and Governor-General this country ever had. The official date for handing over power was fixed for June 30, 1948, but Mountbatten with his ruthless surgery gave us a gift of vivisected India ten months in advance. This is what Gandhi had achieved after thirty years of undisputed dictatorship and this is what Congress party calls ‘freedom’ and ‘peaceful transfer of power’. The Hindu-Muslim unity bubble was finally burst and a theocratic state was established with the consent of Nehru and his crowd and they have called ‘freedom won by them with sacrifice’ – whose sacrifice? When top leaders of Congress, with the consent of Gandhi, divided and tore the country – which we consider a deity of worship – my mind was filled with direful anger.

One of the conditions imposed by Gandhi for his breaking of the fast unto death related to the mosques in Delhi occupied by the Hindu refugees. But when Hindus in Pakistan were subjected to violent attacks he did not so much as utter a single word to protest and censure the Pakistan Government or the Muslims concerned. Gandhi was shrewd enough to know that while undertaking a fast unto death, had he imposed for its break some condition on the Muslims in Pakistan, there would have been found hardly any Muslims who could have shown some grief if the fast had ended in his death. It was for this reason that he purposely avoided imposing any condition on the Muslims. He was fully aware of from the experience that Jinnah was not at all perturbed or influenced by his fast and the Muslim League hardly attached any value to the inner voice of Gandhi.

Gandhi is being referred to as the Father of the Nation. But if that is so, he had failed his paternal duty inasmuch as he has acted very treacherously to the nation by his consenting to the partitioning of it. I stoutly maintain that Gandhi has failed in his duty. He has proved to be the Father of Pakistan. His inner-voice, his spiritual power and his doctrine of non-violence of which so much is made of, all crumbled before Jinnah’s iron will and proved to be powerless.

Briefly speaking, I thought to myself and foresaw I shall be totally ruined, and the only thing I could expect from the people would be nothing but hatred and that I shall have lost all my honour, even more valuable than my life, if I were to kill Gandhiji. But at the same time I felt that the Indian politics in the absence of Gandhiji would surely be proved practical, able to retaliate, and would be powerful with armed forces. No doubt, my own future would be totally ruined, but the nation would be saved from the inroads of Pakistan. People may even call me and dub me as devoid of any sense or foolish, but the nation would be free to follow the course founded on the reason which I consider to be necessary for sound nation-building. After having fully considered the question, I took the final decision in the matter, but I did not speak about it to anyone whatsoever. I took courage in both my hands and I did fire the shots at Gandhiji on 30th January 1948, on the prayer-grounds of Birla House.

I do say that my shots were fired at the person whose policy and action had brought rack and ruin and destruction to millions of Hindus. There was no legal machinery by which such an offender could be brought to book and for this reason I fired those fatal shots.

I bear no ill will towards anyone individually but I do say that I had no respect for the present government owing to their policy, which was unfairly favourable towards the Muslims. But at the same time I could clearly see that the policy was entirely due to the presence of Gandhi. I have to say with great regret that Prime Minister Nehru quite forgets that his preachings and deeds are at times at variances with each other when he talks about India as a secular state in season and out of season, because it is significant to note that Nehru has played a leading role in the establishment of the theocratic state of Pakistan, and his job was made easier by Gandhi’s persistent policy of appeasement towards the Muslims.

I now stand before the court to accept the full share of my responsibility for what I have done and the judge would, of course, pass against me such orders of sentence as may be considered proper. But I would like to add that I do not desire any mercy to be shown to me, nor do I wish that anyone else should beg for mercy on my behalf. My confidence about the moral side of my action has not been shaken even by the criticism levelled against it on all sides. I have no doubt that honest writers of history will weigh my act and find the true value thereof some day in future.

-NATHURAM GODSE

Mumbai Meri Jaan …

Ajit Kumar — Mon, 03 May 2010 11:13:24 +0000

I get down from Maharashtra Sampark Kranti on Bandra Station at 5:15 PM and before that I could pick up my mobile to call Shraddha, I saw her smiling and coming towards me. She is my childhood friend. She gave me a hug and introduced me to Kunal (her boyfriend) and before that I could check into a hotel, she insisted and we took a auto rickshaw to the famous hang out place in Mumbai – Juhu Beach. With just a light tote bag as only luggage, i too readily agreed as I don’t wanted to miss out the cool evening ocean breeze and a warm company of good friends. As we reached Juhu, it was just about time for sunset. With no clouds and a clear sky, the cheery red sun appears bigger than usual at the horizon and the roaring sound of the sea waves was enticing me to take off my cloths and jump into the sea to have a bath. But I resisted the temptation, and we walked along the coast line to find a suitable place to sit. Hawkers were selling a gamut of snacks to eat and we finally zeroed on masala papad. It was a crowded beach and you can easily kill hours looking at the vast roaring sea and a lots of people around (read hot gals P).

All through this, as I was enjoying the spirit of Mumbai, the beaches and my most vivid natured childhood friend, bur at the same time, I was worried too. I was worried about the next day. Prayers were not leaving my lips and my nerves fainted every 10 minutes. Nevertheless, I didn’t let it appear on my face and never let the smile to leave my face. Finally we entered a restaurant and ordered some chicken biryani and Maharashtrian sweet dish. By the time we finished our dinner, we were already quite late. Kunal helped me find a economical lodge near Chingur Station and I checked in there, Then he dropped Shraddha and finally we all said good night to each other.

I came back to my room. Changed my cloths, and laid on the bed. Fear, uncertainty, and excitement didn’t let me sleep for a while. I started calculating the odds and the options, and then suddenly I felt confident. I finally said to myself, tomorrow, either I’ll be joining K J Somaiya for my MBA by converting my waiting list or I’ll accepting the amdocs offer letter which I already had. I had nothing to loose in either case. CSC is anyways sucking. This thought put my nerves at ease and I suddenly slipped into deep sleep. (Thankfully, unlike Delhi, nights in Mumbai are cool and mosquito free, at least where I stayed).

Next morning, although I wanted to sleep till late, I woke up at 6 with a “beep beep” sound on my mobile.SMS from brother. “Bhai – All the best, Love”. I smiled, thanked him and reluctantly left the bed. Just then someone shouted from outside – Chai-Chai. I opened the door and found a man with a tray full of tea in crystal glasses, I took one, and to my surprise, the tea was awesome. I thought a perfect day is going to start with a perfect bed tea.

The clock shows 7:20 and I was ready, dressed in my favorite trim-fit blue shirt specially stitched in The Raymond Shop. I called shraddha to ask if she will be coming with me, but she said she will be joining me later. I checked all my documents, put everything in my tote bag, smiled at the mirror and was all set to leave. I come to the main street, buy some fresh “pooha” for breakfast, hired a auto riksha for Somaiya campus.

It was just around 8 in the morning and I was inside the campus. It was green, big and clean. Some boys and girls were roaming near the Arts and Commerce block. As I walked, I crossed a couple of mid age morning joggers, might be the professors in some department. Then there comes a big ground, past that there was a big complex and the sign board read it as Engineering block. I moved ahead and then I finally saw the signboard reading “SIMSR – K J Somaiya Institute of Management Studies and Research”. Ahh, this was my destination.

The admission procedure started at about 11 am. Shraddha has already joined me by now and she was getting bored sitting at the last row of a big air conditioned classroom where we were mad to sit. I nervously counted the head count in the room and wondered if my wait list will be confirmed. This was my only available option for getting my MBA done. I knew, it was my last chance. I knew I couldn’t prepare next year again and I knew I not wanted to continue working as a software engineer anymore. This was going to be a gateway to my freedom. This one was the best, of which I could deserve. This was of course the risk, worth taking. For me, this was a call from the God. My lips mumbled with prayers, and I hide my nervousness.

The next few hours were either a wait or lot of excitements. We were asked to arrange our documents and particular order, names were read out a loud and we were offered admission. and bingo, I got the seat, I was admitted for the full time residential PGDM course, 2010-12 batch, in SIMSR aka K J somaiya. I was not hallucinating, I was not dreaming. I was happening in real. After the devastating CAT 2009 results, I had no hope for MBA from any of the good colleges, but no, I had a life line.I had no multiple calls, no multiple converts, no multiple options. But God, all I needed is one college, one call, one convert and one confirm seat. That exactly you have blessed me with… Thanks a ton !!!

Evening Time, Party Time

After competing all the admission formalities, Shraddha and me took the BEST bus for Dadar. She wanted to try some finest sea food. I was so happy that I even forgot that my return train ticket was not yet confirmed and I needed to go back the very next day.

But anyways, we went to Dadar and she took to some posh restaurant which is famous for sea foods. We ordered crab, Pomfred fish, and some prong. The food was awesome. Finally we ordered a typical Goa style coconut drink. A perfect day was about to over. We walked out of the restaurant, walked on the street through the rood side market place and finally took a cab to return. On the way, I told her I am leaving for Delhi tomorrow morning on my wait listed e-ticket. I think I can manage. We reached my place first, we again walked for a while and she had some Kulfi. It was 10 pm. Another round of congratulations and good night, and I finally I lied on my bed, set the alarm at 5 AM, loud mode, and was quickly taken away in deep sleep. (description truncated)

The Return journey

The return journey was full of surprises and adventure. I was traveling without ticket in 3AC as my wait listed e-tickets was automatically cancelled and a refund was made. Luckily I encountered a colleague in Bandra station who was also coming back from Mumbai, but unfortunately his ticket was not confirmed too. We boarded the train, and confidently poked the TT to arrange us a berth. We didn’t get one but luckily again, we got a RAC berth to sit. Journey was comfortable and more importantly was free , I was wondering if to feel sorry or to laugh at the flawed system. Yet again, as I am going to Mumbai on 12th June, and this time too, I didn’t get a confirm berth in 3AC inspite of a one and half month advance booking. We call it India’s Shining. But I couldn’t understand, why still we have only 3 AC coaches and 10 sleeper coaches in any of the typical Indian long distance train. Why can’t it be vice versa or better still, why can’t be the whole train be air conditioned? You may accuse me of being anti poor, but can’t we actually lower the overall AC fare if the entire train is AC. And isn’t the time come to raise the bar and improve the living standard of middle class Indians. Well, its a another topic of debate. I reached home the next day, early morning and today I’m writing all this to capture the memories of my 3 days Mumbai visit. Hope it could be a watershed moment for my career. God is great and today I full believe on the notion – ” you get everything which you really deserve”.

From my posts/blogs below (MBA paradox), you might guess how disappointed I was when I was not able to crack into some good B-schools. Today I made it through. I’m just more than happy. (description truncated)

– AJIT KUMAR

Reservations – panacea or problem

Ajit Kumar — Thu, 25 Mar 2010 09:10:56 +0000

How unfortunate and shameful is it in first place if our political class, think tanks and policy makers still see reservation as panacea for all anomalies prevailing in our society. Before bringing the Women Reservation Bill on to the table, did our policy maker give it a little thought and tried to find out if the caste based reservation system which is in force since last 60 years now bring any good changes in the society. Did the SC/ST reservation bill achieve its intended result in 60 long years? Did the backward class really benefit from the scheme and did they really jump classes and come into the elite middle class (and even if a meager proportion of deserving population indeed ripe out the benefit and come into the mainstream middle class, did anyone ensure that they discontinue getting the benefits and let other deserving people get the chance). Even if we say that reservations indeed bring some equality into the society and helped some people jump classes but is it the only or the best way to bring equality. And do we really need a women reservation bill? Do our women need reservation or just equal opportunity to excel? And does any kind of reservation (including the caste based) really work on grass-root level? Isn’t reservations doing more bad than good and only strengthening the already richer class within the reserved classed category? Don’t we need to mull over these questions before we bring a yet another kind of reservation into the society and create yet more divide in the already fragmented society of ours.

Gandhi ji once said –“The biggest discriminator is one who talk about the differences” and he can’t be more correct in saying so. By providing reservation to women in legislature, our government is just accepting the fact that it had miserably failed to fulfill its promise to provide equal opportunities to everyone in our society.

We have seen that women reservation in panchayet level have failed to serve the purpose. It has not empowered the women in the villages but rather empowered their husbands who become the de-facto leaders of the panchayet led by their wives. We have many classical examples from the past where women have taken control of the fort when the men are away for wars or something, but is it called women empowerment or just a foolish delusion of women empowerment?

Next, coming to the point why we need women reservation in the legislature? Forget about the micro level limitation of the bill like rotation of constituencies and quota with quota issue etc, the moot questions is that even if we need women reservation to empower our women, why we need it at legislature level. The women in political and bureaucratic class are already empowered. If we really need gender based reservation, we need them on more grass-root level and public administration level like police, judges, and teachers etc where women can make more impact at grass-root level by implementing the existing laws on gender justice and transform the society.

Finally, I would like to conclude by saying that I strongly advocate the good vision of bringing caste and gender based equality in the society. Because of historic reasons, Indian society has not developed uniformly over the years causing divides and discriminations with the society in from of caste, creed and gender. Today, since we want a inclusive growth for our country, and to ensure that each section of the society gets its due share of growth and opportunity, it is imperative for our government to provide special care and opportunities to the deprived and less privileged sections of the society. Proper implementation of reservations is for sure the fastest way to ensure equality, but it is not the best way. We want to bridge the divide by means of reservation rather create new divides in form of creamy layers, masculine and feminine.

To suggest some solutions for the big problem, I would like to quote and praise the flagship program of Delhi government =”Laddli” wherein the state government is providing free education and other facilities for single girl child per family. Similar kind of initiative should be taken to ensure basic and higher education for girls. More number of women should be recruited in government positions and administrative positions like police, teachers etc to safeguard the social interest and security of women in the society. Tax incentives should be given for girl child education etc.

After all, equality doesn’t mean positioning dummy, rubberstamp people into the system just for the sake of numbers (read 33%), rather it means about changing the whole mindset.

– AJIT KUMAR

ITHACA

Ajit Kumar — Wed, 20 Jan 2010 16:36:16 +0000

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

pray that the road is long,

full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the angry Poseidon—do not fear them:

You will never find such as these on your path

if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine

emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,

if you do not carry them within your soul,

if your heart does not set them up before you.

*****

Pray that the road is long.

That the summer mornings are many, when,

with such pleasure, with such joy

you will enter ports seen for the first time;

stop at Phoenician markets,

and purchase fine merchandise,

mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

and sensual perfumes of all kinds,

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

visit many Egyptian cities,

to learn and learn from scholars.

*****

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.

To arrive there is your ultimate goal.

But do not hurry the voyage at all.

It is better to let it last for many years;

and to anchor at the island when you are old,

rich with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

*****

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.

Without her you would never have set out on the road.

She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.

Wise as you have become, with so much experience,

you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

CONSTANTINE CAVAFY (1863–1933)

translated by Rae Dalven

MBA paradox

Ajit Kumar — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 19:35:46 +0000

Coming into a low state of mind after thinking of my lost relationship for a good amount of time, I tried to swing my thoughts to find out why I’ve to struggle so hard to get into a good Business School when I’m intelligent enough to had my engineering done from a decent college. No, don’t laugh when i say, I’m intelligent enough, it would be churlish if you don’t recognize that howsoever little intelligence which led me to BIT Mesra.

Well, to be honest, even the path to BIT was not a free slide. It was difficult too. But as I analyse today, the basic difference between inspiring for engineering and inspiring for PGDM is the distribution of seats. if we keep IITs as numero-uno of enginering, we have a good back up with a relatively large number of government owned NITs and few other deemed universities like BIT-M and BITS which provides a prestigious back up for those who miss the IITs but are not so bad student who deserve mediocre private colleges. This means, that even if you miss the IIT bus, that is not the end of life. You have a huge safety net in networks of NITs, which provide decent and modern education quite similar to IITs and charge modestly.

The same is not true in case of MBA. In similar fashion, if we give numero-uno to IIMs, there are only few or no government owned institutes which are almost equal or slightly less than the IIM cadre where you can go without insulting your guts. The NIT rung is missing in case of MBA. Either there a some very decent private institutes like MDI, SP Jain and XLRI, where admissions are almost as difficult as in IIMs or there are plenty of low rung government or private colleges, where you don’t really want to go after your degree from NIT.

Th questions is, do we have a void in the cadre rung of B schools? Do we have a rung missing? Do we don’t have institues that can caters students who miss the IIM bus but can’t satisfy his guts joining a mediocre private B school, which can’t justify its ROI.

I guess the answer is Yes. HRD’s decisions to open up more IIMs and IITs is a welcome step. Though some hard line scholars made hue and cry for maintaing the quality and high standards of education in these premier instutues. but I strongly believe that in a country liek India, the need of the hour is quantity and not quality. We need to expand horizonatlly in faster pace to ensure inclusive education rights. Need of the hour is to include more and more people in the mainstreams organised sectors. And that can only be done by increasing opportunity for higher education for all. Regarding the quality, I’ve a strong conviction that every new educational body became great in a evolutionary and gradual manner. Quality will follow if we have sufficient funds for research and developments and funds can only come when we have more and more skilled man power who can create wealth. So its a catch 22. I believe, today’s not so great institute may excel tomorrow and add another feather in the cap of great Indian IITs or IIMs.

And last but all the least, all this time I’m writing this blog, I’m hoping that if this really happens, will I, a mediocre, but with little intelligence will be able to secure a seat for myself in this highly competitive environment. I hope, I can.

- AJIT KUMAR, Friday, Nov 13, 2009 – 1:04 AM

The Necessary Evil of Hierarchies

Ajit Kumar — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 17:26:19 +0000

The Necessary Evil of Hierarchies

by Harold J. Leavitt

“In achievement-oriented democracies, people complain about the inefficiency of top-down-managed organizations, but ultimately they can’t live without them”

A veteran executive once told one of my Stanford MBA classes, “All organizations are prisons. It’s just that the food is better in some than in others.” The students didn’t like the metaphor. They didn’t want to think they were preparing for a career in the slammer. They are not alone. A great many scholars, educators, consultants, and executives simply don’t like what those multi-level, pyramid-shaped structures do to people and to productivity. They breed infantilizing dependency, distrust, conflict, toadying, territoriality, distorted communication, and most of the other human ailments that plague every large organization. So, optimists that we are, we keep dancing on hierarchies’ unoccupied graves. In the near future, we’ve been telling each other for decades, democratic networks will replace those terrible top-down structures. Why, then, even in our high-tech information age, do we keep adding new hierarchies? And why do so many of us autonomous human beings spend so much of our lives incarcerated in those dehumanizing detention centers? There are many pragmatic answers to that question, answers involving the economics of productivity and efficiency, but this short piece is limited to psychological, even existential answers. We can begin with one too easy answer: Let’s blame hierarchies on bad guys! Hierarchies are nothing more than the “immortality projects” of power-hungry organizational emperors. In these days of self-serving CEOs, that old jeremiad may contain a modicum of merit. But it’s not a very solid argument. Absent rapacious CEOs, would corporate hierarchies just skulk away? Not likely! True that too many leaders have exploited their hierarchies for selfish ends. Notice, however, that one can make a strong case for the reverse argument. Instead of blaming hierarchies on bad guys, let’s blame bad guys on hierarchies. Power does indeed tend to corrupt. And once ensconced on pinnacles of large hierarchies, few top executives are eager to climb down. But bad guys are far from the heart of the matter. Many good guys at the top have managed to maintain their integrity despite hierarchies’ corrupting influence. So here, then, are several perhaps more realistic psychological reasons: First and most obvious: We tolerate hierarchies because they help us feed our families. In 2002, according to a Conference Board survey, roughly half of American employees didn’t like their jobs, and the percentage was rising, not falling. Yet we don’t want those fountains of funds to dry up. We may protest, organize unions, pass laws, and try many other ways to hold organizational hierarchies at bay, but we don’t really want to kill them. We need our paychecks. A second reason for hierarchies’ persistence: We are their willing co-conspirators. We gripe about hierarchies, yet we struggle to be accepted by them. Most of us try, quite actively, to get ourselves into the university or hired at Starbucks or Citibank. We may move from one hierarchy to another, but few of us choose to opt out of the whole system. Still another reason: Hierarchies provide a clearly demarcated route toward status and wealth. When we finish school—that’s one hierarchy—most of us look for a job in another, for a place where we can “get ahead.” In hierarchies, clerks can climb to department heads, corporals to sergeants, and parish priests can ascend to bishoprics. Hierarchies, that is to say, are major arenas in which we can play out our achievement needs. Not all societies weave achievement stories into their cultural fabric, but in modern-day democracies most of us are taught to want to climb. Hierarchies provide brightly illuminated ladders that are quite consistent with our meritocratic parable: “Work hard, young person, and no matter your origin or pedigree, you too can reach the top.” That story remains largely true. Hard and good work really does help us climb ladders to success. But hierarchies are also consistent with a more worrisome corollary, the notion that successdeserves to be one’s primary life-goal. Yet few of us, even today, dispute the basic righteousness of that whole achievement orientation. Our job in a hierarchical organization provides something more vital than the chance to climb. Like our families, communities, and religions, our jobs give us identity, a flag to fly. One need only scan the obituaries in today’s newspaper to see how much we are defined by our positions in hierarchies. Those positions tell the world—and ourselves—that we are somebody, not nobody! Here’s a snap quiz: Write down—quickly, off the top of your head—three short answers to this question: Who are you? Do any of your answers have to do with your place in a hierarchical organization? Think of how it feels to be pushed out of your position in your hierarchy, to be demoted, or to be out of a job for months. Loss of income is only part of the problem—and often a small part. Self-esteem is involved. In our individualistic, go-get-’em culture, joblessness has become almost sinful. Executives who have been involuntarily released must put together bravely defensive cover stories as they hunt for new jobs. Only the very young and the very old are permitted the luxury of respectable joblessness. And for the very old, it is still important to make sure the world knows you have been a divisional executive at BP or a manager at Starbucks or a professor at Stanford. For many of us—perhaps especially for Americans—our jobs have become even more than an indicator of who we are. They have become the central foci of our lives. In 2000, according to the International Labour Organization, we Americans worked approximately 350 hours more per year than Europeans. That’s nearly nine more 40-hour weeks. Jobs in hierarchical organizations also give us a spurious—yet welcome—illusion of security, the illusion that they will shelter us from the uncontrollable turbulence of our surrounds. Snuggled into Mother Hierarchy’s ample bosom, our personhood is affirmed and our existential angst allayed. At least that was the way it felt for many of us, until—as on 9/11/01—the indestructible is destroyed or Enron explodes and Andersen falls apart. Then reality sets in, and with it the realization that we may have taken too many good things for granted. Hierarchies also add structure to our lives. They provide routines and regularities. We need such things. A friend of mine, after he retired, took to keeping goats. “Why goats?” I asked. “I keep goats,” he replied, “because goats have to be milked regularly. They give me a reason to wake up every morning.” Without his goats he might have found himself—like many retirees—afloat in a sea of anomie. Here’s a more controversial suggestion about why we support the hierarchies that so many of us profess to hate: Hierarchies evaluate us. They tell us how good or bad we are. Those evaluations are often invalid and even more often unjust. Nevertheless, we want to be evaluated—a bald assertion that will surely raise some hackles! How can this guy say we want to be evaluated? I hate being evaluated. At school they marked us on a curve, so even if we all worked hard, some of us had to flunk. Now, in the company, they evaluate us in quartiles, so no matter how hard people at the lower end try, they’ll probably stay in the fourth quartile. We want to be evaluated? Baloney! Many of us feel pretty much that way. We aren’t comfortable with the notion that some people should have the right to determine the worth of others. That decision belongs to God, not to my assistant vice president. Evaluations with the merest hint of negativity generate wails of protest from evaluators as well as evaluatees. Indeed, bitching about performance appraisals has almost become a national pastime. Maybe that’s why HR people seem to come up, annually, with new, guaranteed-painless appraisal techniques. This year’s 360-degree version promises—the memo says—to increase validity and remove all stress from the process. But those nostrums never quite do the job. So the howling continues. How, then, can anyone in his right mind assert that we want to be evaluated? Here’s an answer: People have achievement needs. On that dimension, managers—from supervisors to CEOs—are probably in the top decile of their nations’ populations. Humans are competitive, too, especially males. Twenty years of Jean Lipman-Blumen’s research on achieving styles with more than 20,000 male and female managers from around the world comes up with only one consistent difference between the sexes. Men everywhere score higher on competitiveness (one of nine achieving styles) than women. But womenmanagers score higher on competitiveness than non-managerial women. Managers, that is to say, are competitors, and competitors’ egos want report cards. The one thing that would probably generate even more fury than existing evaluation procedures would be no evaluation procedures at all. Hierarchies, however, have no choice but to evaluate. A pyramid narrows as one approaches its top. That design requires organizations to select and cull, and to justify their decisions about how to distribute pay, promotions, and other rewards. So they take their questionable measurements seriously. That’s the fair way, isn’t it? Better than promoting you because you’re the boss’s daughter-in-law! And though we grouch and grumble, most of us buy into that evaluation game. Those are some of the emotional factors that help keep hierarchies going. But hierarchies also survive for many cognitive reasons. In our individual lives we use them every day. Whether building model airplanes—or real ones—we tend, quite naturally, to think and work hierarchically. Indeed, hierarchies are quite (don’t laugh) efficient structures. They’re still, despite their human failings, the best method ever invented for solving large, complicated problems. So maybe we should focus less on hierarchies’ failings, and more on how we humans can live moral and fulfilling lives inside them.

“Harold Leavitt is the Walter Kenneth Kilpatrick Professor of Organizational Behavior and Psychology, Emeritus, at the Stanford Graduate School of Business. This essay is adapted from a chapter in his 2005 book Top Down: Why Hierarchies Are Here to Stay and How to Manage Them More Effectively, published by Harvard Business School Press.”

Ajit Kumar — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 11:11:23 +0000

” ये ना थी हमारी किस्मत कि विसाल यार होता …

अगर और जीते रहते यही इंतज़ार होता …

तेरे वयेदे पर जिए हम तो ये जान छुट जाना …

कि ख़ुशी से मर ना जाते अगर एतबार होता …

कहू किस्से मे कि क्या है सबे गम बुरी बला है …

ये खालिस कहाँ से होती जो जिगर के पार होता ….

मुझे क्या बुरा था मरना अगर एक बार होता … ”

Is my life in a rut ?

Ajit Kumar — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 09:11:06 +0000

Disclaimer : I am writing this blog in a abysmally dark, negative and extreme state of mind. Some of the feels may just be ephemeral and a over reaction of some kind of stimulus. This blog is not meant to hurt feelings of any person, company or country. views are only personal and don’t contend to be true.

Come lets think aloud and be straight forward. Question here is why do I think today that my life is in rut? Two years back I was more than happy for being graduating from one of the premium Indian engineering school with a offer letter from one of the globally BIG IT company. Somehow I was convinced that I’d achieved the best of what I could ever achieve at that point of time. Right from the struggling days of engineering entrance exams, through the horrors of IIT-JEE and AIEEE, and then the 1st, 2nd and 3rd semesters of BIT ECE – life was always at its extremes. So the last days of college was a overwhelming experience, with mixed feelings of longing and revulsion. A careless, cool student life was about to end and a pert and promising professional career was waiting ahead. At least I thought so.

Then came the joining, with a warm corporate welcome. I was given a palace (Hotel Infinity, Indore 3 star I guess) to stay for a fortnight with continental power breakfast and then a chariot (Toyata Cab) was sent to commute me to office for my first, such kind of corporate soft skill training. I was proud to be the part of group, consisting of bright, cerebral engineers from different institutes and different parts of the country. The genteel aura, prissy professionals, I took it all as a totem of typical software engineer’s life.

Today, more than 2 years passed, but I don’t feel like waking up in the morning to push myself on my way to office and take orders from some nincompoop managers and do all kind of shit work. Well I’m paid for that and by the Indian bachelors life standards, I’m paid decently as I can buy Nike Shoes, pape jeans T-shitrs, eat in pizza huts and drink premium whiskeys in decent bars and yet safe a few grands to convince myself that I’m doing some savings. But why after all this, today I feel my life is a void of vanity?

Now after some deep introspect, I question myself, what it is which I actually don’t like, is it the work I am doing? Is it coding or the IT atmosphere? I pooh poohed this immediately. In fact I thought I liked writing software and the liberal IT work culture. Then what? Perhaps I don’t like the way I’m working for a US cost centre. Yes, indeed, they call it a cost centre or a subsidiary company of a US giant and the morons here do all the outsourced work for a cheap labour. Every morning I wake up,dress up and ride my bike on dusty, typical Noida streets to reach my office and do outsourced work for an American client. The US giant earn big dollars from the client after keeping the lion’s share, through the left over to its cost centres we happily take home our 6 figure salaries in INRs. Next year, we may get a modest hike (single digits these days – if you are lucky), but still the potholes on the road to my office are not labelled by the government and streets are still dusty, but my be I have saved enough to buy a small car after a a bank loan. But the roads in a low cost country can never be good and clean. Yes, may be I’m confused but one of the many reasons for my frustration is our dusty roads. Indeed. may be I am also frustrated because my wussy US manager knows little about technology or business but still he can order me tasks and fill my feedback form. Or may be I am frustrated because despite all my hard work and dedication, I will not be given my due promotion or hike on time. But all these are extrinsic factors. There are more intrinsic factors too. I am 1400 kms away from my home and can visits my parents only a couple of times in a year. Since we are a developing country, we don’t have skilled jobs in tier 2 cities. You need to be in national capital Region (NCR) or bangalore to get into a IT job. I spent last dewali alone watching a movie on my laptop, this dewali though, I am lucky to go home and celebrate with my family.Last year, my bitchy girl friend dumped me after 4 years of relationship and 6 months of acrimonious heart breaking activities, for a perhaps more settled and wealth guy.

To be continued …..

Disclaimer : I am writing this blog in a abysmally dark, negative and extreme state of mind. Some of the feelings mentioned may just be ephemeral and a over reaction of some kind of stimulus. This blog is not meant to offend any person, company or country. Some of the ideas may sound inchoate, unrelated, with lack of continuity and even whimsical and cynic, but they all were true at least for the time they touched me. All views are only personal and don’t contend to be true.

Now after some deep introspect, I question myself, what is it which I actually don’t like, is it the work I am doing? Is it coding or the IT atmosphere? I pooh poohed this immediately. In fact I thought I liked writing software and the liberal IT work culture. Then what? Perhaps I don’t like the way I’m working for a US cost centre. Yes, indeed, they call it a cost centre or a subsidiary company of a US giant and the morons here do all the outsourced work for a cheap labour. Every morning I wake up,dress up and ride my bike on dusty, typical Noida streets to reach my office and do outsourced work for an American client. The US giant earn big dollars from the clients and after keeping the lion’s share, throw the left over to its cost centres and we happily take home our 6 figure salaries in INRs. Next year, we may get a modest hike (single digits these days – if you are lucky), but the potholes on the road to my office will still remain there, unattended by the oblivious government and streets will still remain dusty, but by then I might save enough money to buy a small car with a bank loan. I will then roll up the window, turn on the AC and will forget about the dust like everyone else do. But the roads in a developing country can never be good and clean until they keep on siphoning our money through the outsourcing route and until the Indian IT industry (although behemoth , potent and adept) learn to do and create business independently and entrench itself in the global arena. Yes, I may sound confuse but one of the many reasons for my frustration is our dusty roads. Indeed, after all it is me who face it every morning and every evening amid terrific traffic. I am frustrated also because my wussy US manager who knows little about technology or business, but can still order me tasks and fill my feedback form. Or may be I am frustrated because despite all my hard work and dedication, I will not be given my due promotion or expected hike on time. But all these are extrinsic factors. There are more intrinsic factors too. I am 1400 kms away from my home and can visits my parents only a couple of times in a year. Since we are a developing country, we don’t have skilled jobs in tier 2 cities. You need to be in national capital Region (NCR) or bangalore to get into a IT job. I spent last dewali alone watching a movie on my laptop, this dewali though, I am lucky to go home and celebrate with my family.Last year, my bitchy girl friend dumped me after 4 years of harmonious relationship and 6 months of acrimonious blame games, consecutive breakups-patch ups and heart breaking activities, for a perhaps more settled and wealthy guy. But I, perhaps even now, sometimes feel soft for her. Hah, I’m feeling like a wimp !!!

So, its not just one thing but a concoction of thoughts, which is making me feel low, frustration, revulsion.

Yesterday evening I went to Cross Word and found a book about on John Bissell, founder of “fabindia”. His sheer vision and business acumen touched me. How he managed to connect to the Indian village based hand loom textile industry and established India’s well known brand “fabindia”, is a astonishing unfolding story. I asked myself, why can’t a mediocre software engineer think and materialise a idea big and novel like that of John Bissell. Afterall, I want to see the streets of my country (rural or urban) clean and beautiful, as we find in Lebanon or London. And I don’t have to take stupid orders from my US base asinine managers, nor I will have to bang my grey cell to write codes to profit my US based clients. Ya, the idea is novel, cool and great. All my spiritual and corporal needs will be met, and a satisfaction of working for the good of my own people will buy me happiness. May be I will find a more beautiful girlfriend too.

Yep!! a nice thought to ponder before I fell asleep. How soon will I be able to materialise something like this?

To be continued …..