Yet Another Flop Story!

Stanley asked me to come for the movie - AARAKSHAN! And I instantly rejected the idea. The hint of an idea that the movie has been a flop was not at all running through my mind. But my intent was to avoid my own flop show later this year when gentle breeze would bring the coolness and proclaim to our utter dismay, "The D-day has come!"

And we left office at quarter to nine in the "evening" and plodded towards the auto-stand. The auto driver was happy to see a bunch of young crowd avidly awaiting some carriage to nearest junction at Karunamoyee. But as soon as he picked us up, his competitors came out of their hide, as if they were lurking for the fruit to be ripe and full. And as soon as it's full, they know that they have got a good number of passengers whom they can bank upon. They came like the Public Prosecutors of Lokpal Bill, and ensured that their AARAKSHAN may be duly honored. That pick up point is reserved for a few specific auto and restricted to the rest.

I came home after this short drama at auto stand a day long usual drama at my exceptionally hellish workplace. Talked to people who missed me over the whole week, made up some plans for the coming days. But, halfhearted, the efforts were showing no trace of lustre. And then I logged on to my testing window - of one of the most useful tools of modern day study methodologies - the mock test. It was a complete mockery on my part to do nothing for it in last 15 days and appearing for it with baseless hope. The test was submitted midway, nothing's really working out for me for the last 3/4 weeks - either a small pimple will take the shape of a small size volcano and I get hospitalized for the same - or a bid date comes close with no real support from our support groups - everything that can go wrong for me is, as if, coming together at the same time. Morphy's law! - true it is.

But now I am tired of complaining. And I need a sigh of relief. It's not that I can see an iota of light even at the furthest and darkest end of my road, but the hope that kills million mortal men, is killing me as well. Failure is waiting with its empty stomach, and absolutely ready to devour me in. But like Indian test cricket team, I too can forget the last few weeks as just another bad patch of life. And life goes on. And comes a day, each day, with a new beginning, with a new zeal. To see and prove that it's not over until it's over.

90 days is all I have, too little for the pessimistic self in me, and too much when that Nike punchline punches me hard. Time is what evokes you, go accompany her, and do your best, and one day you both cross the river of futility with the bridge of achievement.

Hope beckons, standing tall, just 90 days away from you!

Dreams Derailed

To me the most beautiful words in Dictionary are hope and dream. While in one of my earlier blog I wrote about hope, let this one start with the other one - Dream. So, what's dream? When I wanted a proper definition of dream, thefreedictionary.com suggested that "dream" is a series of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Oh! so technical, isn't it? But when Martin Luther King Junior in his famous speech, uttered the phrase, "I have a dream", he obviously meant something else - some condition or achievement that is longed for; or, in simple language, an aspiration. Yes my story starts with dreams as in aspirations that we bear and tread across the drudgeries of life.

Youngsters have great dreams and they follow it. So did I when I was in college. Dreamt about a decent job that will pay me 15 thousand rupees a month. And I can fulfill my basic needs, like food, shelter, etc etc. But then these days we hear lot about derailment. Refer the case of what happened to the Howrah Kalka mail a few days ago. And so happened to my dreams. My dreams got derailed simply. Now I know that a 15-thousand-rupees-a-month salary is not enough. Time has changed, so has changed the prices of what we call the essential commodities. And as a result, we need to earn money, more than what we thought would be sufficient, a few years ago. And to make provision for hassle free access to essential commodities of life, we ourselves got commoditized in the job. Boss treats us with the same amount of compassion he grants for PC/Printer/Office furniture. They are like accessories that help him in his work. He doesn't allow them to go home, at 6. If he needs to do something till 10 pm, he needs the PC to be on till that time. If he needs the printer to give a print at 7:30 pm in the evening, and the next set at 11:30 pm at night, the printer really cant go off in between. Can it? No, it stays on throughout. So do we. He may ask us to do something, he may not. But the work culture in this city of joy is in conjunction with our ranks as nothing but accessories. And at the end the MNCs are paying these accessories at an excessive rate. Not 15, buddy, you may get 50 thousand bucks, wow! but do you get time to spend that hefty some? No, its more than enough if you get some time to take a sound sleep. You thought you need food, shelter and all. You get it now. Pizzas from Pizzahut, Burgers from MacD. You have a pot belly. You really don't worry for food. But your mind is dead. It's not getting its food - mental pabulum - the food for the hungry mind. You get an air conditioned flat to be in. But strife in job-life balance makes you a hapless kid searching for a shelter of peace. Dream was that, and reality is this. Derailed, dreams are following their ill fate.

It was time when we college students thought that staying awake through whole of the night was fun. Maggi and chai at the nearest dhaba, Surfing free of cost in the air conditioned and less crowded college computer labs, the gossips among hostel mates - add these things to that, and it would be awesome. We believed, night was the best time to stay awake and work. It's not that guys would just pass time and do no real work. We would really work on occasions like the penultimate night before Semester exams. And we dreamt, ek baar paas hone do, fir to job mei masti hi masti. Let's get out of this college, and wonderland is awaiting us in office. But man proposes, God disposes. And we are in that wonderland finally. The first few days are orientation programmes. With a pocket full of money, we start feeling like the real king. And then the corporate ovates us with punch cards, we tag it around our neck as if it's a garland made of 1-kg of gold. The chest heaves in and bulges enormously with a sense of pride felt never before. A few days passes peacefully, the year turns, and the same tag is like a shackle for an en-caged and domesticated pet kept with the corporate. And we do petty things, or we wait for the next order to come. And the clock goes tick-tick-tick. Oh god, we see its quarter to midnight! Now the heart cries to end the day, oops end the night. And the clock goes on tick tick tick. Exhausted, we reminisce the days spent in college and the nights spent sleepless. And we appeal to our ill fate, leave me please, I want to home before the dawn.

Then we thought, we need freedom, we need to get out of college, ASAP. Who wants to study again boss, we need job. Now we need some kind of respect in job that we do. Engineers galore are like scapegoats at the altar of corporate growth and sheer profitability. And they being available in bounty, is no better than accessories we buy by paying an affordable price. We yearn for jobs that gives you dignity, we try to grow bigger, we yearn for an MBA degree to adorn our CV. And we are ready to take up school for that - again - the coveted b-school. We felt like handsome hunks, and wanted gorgeous guls beside us - girlfriends - having one is good, having more is better. And now we see relationships are on the verge of extinction because of the trying jobs. like the count of number of tigers in the country, and we mark the number of days expected to be safe for us to maintain a healthy relation without getting time for date/chat/mere phone call -14 days 11 hours - if you go at a stretch bogged down in job and sparing no time for her, she will be gone.

Life is calling, where are you? Yes, life is indeed calling, we can see life flowing through busy streets down there, if we peep through the glass walls of our 14 storey offices, but our cell phones are jammed by reckless job. Not getting life's call here in this cage. And everything in life is indeed somewhere else. Somewhere far away - like a distant dream. And we don't dream much these days.

Wealth Is Ill Health!

Health is wealth is much heard a saying. In terms of mathematics, if a is equal to b, the reverse is also true, i.e. b = a. But only in special cases, the reverse corollary for the above saying is true. When?

When we say we do work out regularly, that doesn't mean that we go OUT and WORK in our workplaces. Instead, what we mean by working out is exercising to maintain our health. And that is sometimes possible without spending wealth directly. If i go for a jog in the early morning, and shed a few grams of extra fat, do I really spend money for that? No, wealth is not really needed to maintain health, or to gain health from a state of ill health. But is it an absolute estimation of cost for health? No, because, what we forget is time. We do not buy time, but with time, we can create wealth, so time is a raw material for wealth creation, and that's why the other saying goes - Time is money! Now, if time is money, I am spending money when I go for a jog for 15 minutes. May be I am not Mukesh Ambani, or Sachin Tendulkar for whom the newspapers and magazines will print special articles assessing the per second earning of those wealthy souls, but however low it can be my earning per unit time can not be equated to zero. (No I dont mean to say that everytime I am earning, I earn in INR only for the stipulated 8.5 hrs of my job per day and 5 days per week, but that's all about direct earning, if I spend my free time in doing something which will add value to me, that value is also comparable to money, even if there is no known formula that converts value to a physical sum). So my intent in this wordy paragraph is to establish that health is gained only at an expense of money. And this expenditure varies. It's minimum when we do things like jogging, or push ups on floor. But it's maximum in case we go to modern-facilities-provider gyms like Talwalkar's one of whose franchisee is there in my vicinity as well... approx 12000 Rs. a year is what they will charge for the most ordinary scheme of membership there. So, if you can pay the sum, you can gain good health. (obviously, you have to attend it regularly, and do what you need to do there, not that you pay and flee away, and you expect to be a Salman Khan after a year). So, in special cases, we do see, wealth is health.

But the above is in special cases only. So what are the general cases I am pointing to here? Take my case. A guy who intelligently chose to work for a French MNC instead of an Indian private sector steel making company, felt proud about being part of a culture which, until that time, was hallowed as Yem Yen See... Mind it! But the true picture comes clearer as we go ahead and get closer to what we want to see. And when that happened, I truly realized the whole chemistry of outsourcing industry. Be it just the much-abhorred call centre business, or be it a much euphemised engineering out sourcing companies. The moral of the story is same everywhere. They pay you, to make you create things that will sell in higher price than the cost of their creation. In simpler language the profit margin is to be there for the business, like the blood in human body. Its so essential a fluid in the system without which the system wont work. And to make provision for that life-sustaining-fluid, somebody is sucking that of others. Now I sounded a little too harsh on them. No I didnt mean that they are like American Capitalists who had a number of slaves to work day in and day out to fill up their masters' treasury. They are much benevolent and labour friendly in terms of perks and packages they offer to us. And they indeed take care of our hospitality when they send us on tours and trips for trade (read business, it's been long I used an alliteration) or training. None of my family members could imagine when I was born, that this child would grow up and only in his mid twenties would earn a sum that's only a couple of years away from being a 7 digit salary. It's hefty, indeed. Boss, they are paying!

But having said that, the receivables are only quantities, and we over look the quality in this effort. The assessment should be more radical to our souls, not just about the advancement / modernization of our periphery - not about the luxurious coziness that their money can buy us. The point is we do things that do not really require skills of an engineer (not that I am so skillful; today's education system will never make us skillful except making us quantity-oriented. The not-so-hard-earned pass mark is what makes us 'engineers'). We are simply underutilized, and our brain swords that could be honed to cut off iron bars, is just cutting green grass repetitively. Repetitive stress is too annoying, and the westerners invented machines, and parallelly discovered money-seeking-men in the east. And we are running so less than our capacity, that it is simply stealing our capacity to think or to do things, that matter. In a figurative language we are becoming intellectual eunuchs (dont mind, havent talked about our physical transformation so far). Mentally ill is what we are.

Now that mind stays in a body. And a healthy mind stays in a healthy body. And unhealthy one in unhealthy body, of course. No the statement is not logical, pun intended. But the kind of task that we do is stealing our ability to do task as well, physically. The cozy seat of the ergonomic chair that can swivel 360 degrees about an axis aligned parallelly to our spines will ensure safe distance of our eyes from the computer screen and will make right angle at our elbow that will type in the key board crores of illegible codes that only machine can interpret. But that chair will make us stick to it for hours past our stipulated close-of-business time, making a safe distance from our home and family and fun and frolic which adds to good health, both mentally and physically. Not to forget the pot bellies that the pot like cup of the chair (consisting of the concave back rest and gripping arm rest panels sideways) will gift us after only a couple of months. I will give you one more analogy. You know, pitcher plant? The leaves of which will form a pot like shape to attract insect, and when a poor soul falls prey to it, the pot-leaf will suck all its life-blood.

Physically fatigued, mentally exhausted, you come back, with pocket full of wealth and heart full of ill health!

Random Musings #2

D for destiny. D for drudgery as well. And drudgery is what opens the gate of destiny. Desires are long borne. Dreams are dreamt so often. But sometimes this diffidence that kills the man in me. It seems, as if in a big cauldron with hot oil bubbling on fire, like a demon's ire it can burn me down to ash. It seems the wings of mind are castrated. Incapability has jacketed the soul. Termites galore have crawled up my feet, climbed till neck high. Despair and disdain has devoured me down its stomach. Dilemma - Distress - Dejection acute!

They say it's not the end of road, and he said, "miles to go before I sleep", but me? Need a break, exhausted in just 3 years. Life is a deal, and I could not deal with its business. Red marks in PLA, cash flow tending to nadir, balance sheet has lost the balance. It's not easy, and it's like a war, not really a little ambush. And staying alive is not enough, staying long is the motto. Survival is the need of the hour.

It's not fear, it's not greed. It's not the money that buy things many. It's passion, it's a wish that rose long ago, to prove a point, to make it done. Not to prove it to you, and you, and you. The destiny is about proving to own-self. It's about beating one's own record, dreaming new dreams for a destiny-re-designed!

Random Musings

I still remember the days when I was just opening my eyes to the outer world. It was then, I read a Bengali poem by Sunirmal Basu. And in that the lines were like - The sky taught me generosity, and the blowing wind - workaholism. And rest of the poem was all about teachers in nature, or should I say, external factors that infuse learnings in our soul. We learn from not only our school teachers or college professors. We learn from objects, events and almost anything we come across in our daily life - vivacious or inanimate. We just need to keep our eyes open. As we see we learn, and experience bears wisdom. So in a way, we should be more open to the outer world in order to become wiser.

And it's true about learning words as well. Any word I know has a definite story linked with it - the story of how I learnt it. Learning is no herculean task. Of course, at first it may not seem so. When I first saw this word - Herculean, I was bamboozled. I then mugged up the meaning - extremely difficult or something that need superhuman strength. Now, last week I visited Science City, and on the wall of the front most building there was an artwork depicting the story. A heroic figure fighting with a snake-like creature with many heads. And when I came back and was enquiring what they wanted to depict on that wall, I heard one more story - Hercules was a Greek fighter who performed 12 immense labours one of which was to kill Hydra - a multiheaded creature. But the difficlut most part of it was everytime it was beheaded, two new heads were regenerated. And the glimpse of this great fight was there on the wall. Would it be hard any more for me to remember the word and it's meaning? At least I don't have to damn mug it up.

I was hesitating whether I should tell you one more story my teacher told me in my childhood. Although I have plenty of them, giving them all would increase contents of this gibberish, and you may not like me spoiling your precious time. Whereas I am too avid to use it. In short I am tantalized - annoyed by this hesitation - to give or not to give. And finally I decide I must tell you what happened to King Tantalus for stealing ambrosia from Gods. Tantalus's punishment for his act was to stand in a pool of water beneath a fruit tree with low branches. Whenever he reached for the fruit, the branches raised his intended meal from his grasp. Whenever he bent down to get a drink, the water receded before he could get any. His name gave birth to this peculiar sort of annoyance - a temptation without satisfaction - tantalize.

In one of my favourite project speeches in KTM, I heard a fellow Toastmaster narrating a story at the begining of her speech. It was the story of a word. Many words combine to make an interesting story, while each word has an interesting story of itself. And when you know it, learning is nothing but fun. You no longer feel that a good vocabulary is your Achilles' heel. In one of our meeting we had a speech marathon, and our Grammarian aptly presented Marathon as the word of the day and explained the story behind its meaning. In an other meeting a very senior Toastmaster used the word Nudge quite a few time. He read it in a book. I searched for the same book on internet and found out its cover. It was so expressive that just by viewing it you can understand and assimilate the meaning.





I have learnt from almost anything, - right from the interesting links in my friends' tweets, to status messages (nice quotes and quips) of my mentor's google account - from road side advertisements to the cover packs of ordinary consumer goods. We all actually do it in our own distinct ways. But above all, what we see is what we be. And that's why the saying goes, we are average of 5 people we meet everyday.

hazaaron khwaishein aisi

14th May 2010, - 30th Baisakh as per bengali calendar - Amabashya - the darkest night as they say. And I got the same tinge in my life. I am like the central character of a novel written by another famous Bengali -who was born in the month of Baisakh co-incidentally - "Amol" the boy in his famous novel "dak hor kora", who desired to have different careers at different point in time in his life when he liked them. I kind of feel like him. My desires do change with time, and after a year long desire and a week long wait, I was stuck up tonight till 9 pm in a culturally retrograde office, and was hunting for some life saving light, but I forgot it's the start of a day when even the moon turns dark. And when I typed in the textbox my roll number, the same old phrase popped up once again on screen in front of my eyes, "SORRY! You are not selected" and I could see the death of my dreams and could do nothing. For about a year I bore this dream to be an artist, and I wanted to do something new, something other than the boring stuff I do in this hectic job in a so called MNC, I wanted to pursue New Media Design in one of the finest Design college in the world - NID Ahmedabad. But even though I can't study design, I did study economics which say that there's more want than how much you can get - there's always an unsurmountable gap between demand and supply.



I didn't want much actually, I just wanted to step into someone else's shoes, at least this is what the question was in that form that I filled up once when I was desparately trying to get into a design / advertising job, in a company called CONTAD. Yes, as they asked this question "if you could step into someone else's shoes for a day, who would it be and why?", my answer was the same as I have put it below:



Satyajit Ray. Just like millions of Bengalis in the world, I am fan of his works starting from movies, literature, art and what not. His movies were like mirrors to real life. He also paid heed to the precious literature we already have in our native land, not borrowing or plagiarizing stories from others’ creations, the way they do these days in films. His movies can also be classified in groups fulfilling different purpose – starting from expression of human life, changing values in city life, detective stories, and literary geniuses. I was not a movie buff. Especially I never had any liking for Bengali movies till I watched movies directed by him. His well written stories are famous for introducing themes relating to science fiction, travels to far away places, extra sensory perceptions, and even tender feelings – all that can make the youth deeply dipped into them. Once I read his accounts of his childhood namely “Jokhon Chhoto Chhilam” (meaning, when I was young). And inspired by it, I started to fill up my diary with my own childhood memories. I admire him also for making a character alive for timeless period, Feluda, the vernacular version of Sherlock Holmes. He was master of creativity, as he revived Sandesh, a magazine for children. I am currently the editor for Kolkata Toastmasters’ Club’s quarterly newsletter. And I have tried my best to revive it in terms of its design and looks. I like calligraphy. And he was one of the very few creative persons who have got two font or type faces registered in their names. As a cover designer, he did splendid things that attract me a lot. Whenever I visit Nandan, the famous multiplex in Kolkata, I love to see the logo, designed by him, that shines on top of the front building. I am also fond of effective communication which he was a master of. He was effective in all the modes he used to communicate to the mass. Though he is more famous as Oscar Committee recognized him for life-time achievement in cinema, I love to imagine him as one of those prodigies like Leonardo da Vinci, who can never be classified as any particular type of artist. They are embodiment of humans with limitless creativity. He is, in other words, my creative guru, and it would be really great if I can step into his shoes for a day! But I don’t hold any degree in fine arts, I am not a good painter, I don’t have that much professional experience expected in a creative artist, but deep in my heart, I bear this dream of being an artist of his height. I know, innovative way of doing things doesn’t allow you to copy others. But, there’s nothing wrong in stealing inspiration from others’ life.



I wrote all those stuff and dreamt a dat dream may be, and now am landed on to the hard crust of harsh reality. And I see nothing else, except for this blinding darkness here.



On second thought, the Amabashya night is translated into english as "The New Moon", or the day when the moon starts getting better, and bigger (only figuratively, the Astronomer will tell you that the size doesnt change, only the illuminated area visible to us is changed, or a Physicist might use his law of conservation of mass to confront me here). The omen tells me to start afresh, and strive for it, and I tell myself, dreams are dreams only till they come true. And the best way to conclude is to end with the parting words of the last person I was chatting with, "come on there are no failure. These are just small speedbreakers in ur life which indicates to make a back gear and move ahead without looking back"

Brishti Tomake Dilam...

1:37 AM, April 29, 2010, and the cool breeze blowing through my window from the North Eastern side of the backyard is bringing tiny little droplets along with it. It reminds me of my mom’s caring touch, it takes me to time that has been to oblivion, and what will never come back, how hard I may try and cry. About 20 years ago, went to school, for the first time in my life, and since then learnt lessons a lot, and those that were in no text books. Learnt how to lead life – lonely and lovelorn, and loveless at last, a lad who lost his lass. Learnt how to overcome that sudden punch, learnt to forget things for better… and still learning, - a life long process it has been, as they said. I had a heart – clean like a blank slate, and the girl of my dream came with a pink chalk, scratched in it, I scratched then too, and started the rounds of tick-tack-toe, but when in final turn she made the final cross, I failed to read the omen, she crossed the limit of togetherness, and I kept my fingers crossed, till I crossed the ocean of grief that prevailed for pretty few annums.


Tears shed as if rain. And I felt lighter letting them drip drop by drop. Neon lights still lit the roads, soaked in the night’s dew, - and drizzles, incoherent, ricked by reckless wind. She came again arousing all my senses. And when I yearned to cast that amorous look, she was no more there, I rambled, rumbled in quest, and she was nowhere at all.


The days passed by, and I forgot thou. And I marred the kid in me, and hate the exile. I have freed myself under the azure sky, and I leaped in joy, with desire to fly high, and then the wind came, and the drops as well, the light had that glow again, and took me to thee tonight.

Your Body Speaks*

Verve is indeed needed along with verbosity. In other words, energetic style showing proper body language is of utmost importance while speaking in public. To be specific, research based data show that 93% effectiveness of a speech depends upon not what you speak, but how you speak it – i.e. nonverbal communication.

Non verbal communication has several aspects like vocal variety, intonation, body language etc. But body language is most crucial of all. It is the reason why Television is a better mode of communication than Radio. Radio can cater to you the other qualities of a speech but the absence of body language makes it incomplete or imperfect.

Moreover body language doesn’t demand an athletic body or six pack abs, neither zero figure. It’s not a body builder’s prerogative but it’s the simplest way to build your speech stronger in terms of getting the message across. Body language is chiefly controlled by but not limited to the following three modes.

Facial Expression: Your facial expression has the capability to support or deny what you say. With a fallen jaw [ like a face similar to :( ] even if you punch your fists in air and proclaim in high pitch, “I am happy, my boss has bestowed this responsibility only to me barring other 9 members in my group!”, your colleagues will overhear something, that you are not at all happy because of this unwelcome burden. You will be a liar to them if you neglect the simple rules of body language. So learn to show your facial expressions aptly. And at least when you’re speaking to public, just believe that they are no inanimate invisible objects; please keep proper eye contact. Your confidence will pass through your eye balls and will hit the bull’s eye.

Gestures: When you are in a public speaking forum your hands and arms are like inevitable tools, much like the willows that Sachin uses in any Indo-Pak nail-biting one-dayer inside a jam-packed cricket stadium. Your hands can point or stomp with fists. You want to make a mockery of someone? Don’t just laugh at him, but also keep your one palm cupped to your mouth, and the index finger of the other hand pointed to that mortal. He will be on “ire” if not “fire”. Just imagine a leader, marching ahead, shouting “Inquilab Zindabad” [meaning, “Long Live Revolution”], with the right hand in his pocket. The movement won’t really last long; forget longevity. Faith moves mountains, and right Gestures, a whole mass movement.

Postures: Your stance supports you while speaking. It not just supports you (carries the load of your body), but it supports you in whatever you are saying (expresses the right body language needed for your content of speech). Generally, be balanced and upright when you face the audience, but learn to adjust your posture as you go on speaking. In the story you are narrating to a bunch of kids, suddenly a tiger jumps in front of you. With the heart pounding like thousand-watts-speakers, you started to run. Now if you really show the posture like that in the illustration, I wonder some of the kids will start running as well, taking the story to be true.



Body language does make things true if you use them properly. It has also the power to contradict your intent of speech. It’s like a wild (and lazy) horse, you need to tame for your own use. Great orators are great not for their thoroughly twisting tongue, but they are great men, bodily. In one of the Ted talks, that I watched few days ago, the renowned performer and social activist Mallika Sarabhai conducted a speech session. And she was not talking much. Then why on earth was she there for in that talk/speech show? Well she can dance, and when she dances her body does speak!


*(Write up for article in the coming issue of SPARK, -quarterly newsletter of Kolkata Toastmasters Club)

Believe It Or Not

Seeing is indeed believing. And that implies, we tend to disbelieve what we can’t see with naked eye. But there are things, beyond our perception, off the realms of reality. None of us have, or to be safe, most of us haven’t seen God who is yet believed to be omnipresent. I am not being theistic, nor am I an atheist; you may call me agnostic, if you can. I believe that there’s a need of believing in God. It doesn’t harm us. Instead it helps us refrain from doing sins. It helps us bear our moments of pain with hopes for a better future. It boosts our confidence.


Just imagine a world where people are earnestly atheistic. And there would be crimes galore for sure. Like most corrupted ministers, we won’t rein in our sinister desires, and this mundane world would be under the reign of unimaginable anarchy. On the contrary, suppose there is a place somewhere on this earth, or heaven, where people do believe in things unseen. They believe in a surreal superpower, or an absolute mystery, or a supernatural being that controls the fate of each and every individual or creature living. And it would inspire you to do things undone, punish for things wrongly done, and award for things done with excellence. Now tell me, do you feel like believing?


Believing is good as at the very beginning it’s believing that makes thing happen. With one leg amputated, many supposed her to have got the premature end of her dancing career. But Sudha Chandran believed she can, and went on to grace the stage again, even with a wooden Jaipur foot. On the other side of the globe, a penniless pauper at the pavements of Sao Paulo used to dream. While busy shining others’ boots, he believed in his own dream. And one day he made it true, and became the world famous football wizard Pele. His own boot could kick the shining golden ball (the award for the best footballer of the year 1970 by FIFA). All the great fellows in this world, who have somehow made a mark, must have believed it all the time. Believing is such an essential energy that drives you through all the most difficult missions in life.


In this crucial juncture when cut-throat-competition and rat race are inextricably linked up with life, it demands you to take control of things; it urges you to be clear and confident when you speak and it leaves you with no choice but being heard, understood and followed by others willingly. And that’s the reason why communication and leadership are the lingos selling like hot cakes. You have to make yourself acquainted with the need of the hour. There are people who still think they can’t. The rest are those humble, amicable, diligent and helpful people who love to call them Toastmasters.

V-day Vanity

Celebrating the Valentines Day, these days, is just as usual as celebrating one’s birthday 10 years ago. Be it an elderly couple watching “My Name Is Khan” in INOX, a middle aged gentleman roaming around Shyambazar with a gorgeous lady with boy cut hair and terracotta theme cotton saree and black rimmed oval shaped spects, or just two cute little babies (a boy clad in Mickey tee and a girl with two tentacles stuck to her hair band and a pair of butterfly wings attached to her back, both below the age of 5 years or so) - playing together at the top floor children’s park at Forum Mall – Valentines Day was so special to everyone as I could see. The day being a Sunday, helped the cause. People could throng in large numbers around the hot and happening places of the city.

I, on the other hand, celebrated the day differently. Yes I was out with a friend, and spent the day with lots of fun, but she was not my valentine. She is more than love. As I believe Amity is sometimes something more than love. You fall in love, you fall out of love, and you fall in love again. You date people, you propose them, and you marry one of them in the end. But sometimes it’s so difficult to find a like minded person or a friend who has the same sort of likings and thinking as you have. And I was awe stricken when she took out this small, little, simple and sober gift from her vanity (bag). Weeks ago I was thinking of the same thing – a gift that I can gift her – a photo frame with no photograph in particular, but with lots of images and scribbles that mark the number of events and occasions that we spent so far. (Like the coffee cup – as we spent time in coffee shops, the creative things that we made together, the specific words that we utter and are liked by each other and so many such things). And when she made it for me before I could do it for her, I said, gosh was she made with the same set of genes that I have?



I am generally a reserved kind of guy, but when I am with her I am too much talkative, and I guess this is the story of all others who fall in love, or at least in half love like me. And I interrupt her so much while she speaks. She, like, I guess, many other cute girls, has this habit of turning and twisting her fingers, palm, and hands in peculiar shapes to carry out the non-verbal part of her communications. And that’s something I am in love with. And often while she speaks, I either gape at those funny gestures, or interrupt her with a word or two of mine, and she gets annoyed and violent (violent with not sword or machine guns, but with bombs of tear drops that she sheds so frequently, to win the battle even before start). My frequent interruption hurts her as she thinks we have too little time together to complete the conversations with so many such interruptions of mine. And the sight of tears dropping and dripping on top of her plate of Mongolian Noodles makes me sad, and I take the oath (again and again) not to interrupt her in future. We have small fights like this almost everyday.



But there is something that binds us together despite all these tussles - the sheer liking for each other. I don’t know why on earth she likes me. But I know why I do. We were watching this controversial movie that has tried its bit to make the point clear – no matter which religion you follow you can be classified in either of two ways. Either you are a good person or a bad one. And sometimes, I ponder over these lessons, and feel sorry about it. I feel sorry because though I personally have no communalism at all, sometimes we are compelled to behave in a different way as we are guided by our traditions, social practices and our family values. We all love to see the onscreen chemistry of SRK and Kajol, who hail from two different religions in the story and still get married. But I wonder how many of us would dare to follow this. Won’t we hesitate a lot before going for an inter-religion marriage? Forget inter-religion affairs, we even get many a hiccups to accept an inter-caste marriage even in this age of Twitter and Wikimapia. The other aspect of the movie is about accepting people who are having some sort of abnormality. When we see SRK acting in the role of an autistic person and somebody is making fun or laughing at him, we become suddenly so rebellious to stop that person at once. But once the two-and-half-hours-drama is over do we really take home that newly developed mentality? No, I guess. We just dump it outside the theatre hall, and while on our way home, if we see a spastic child or an autistic man, we be the same devils as we were previously, and we take the lead to mock at them without a prank of conscience. Inspired by movies, stories, and books on personality development, we take the oath to be a good man, but sometimes we fail in real life.



But here is this different story. After watching the movie we headed towards the terrace of the BURP food court atop Forum Mall. And there while we were enjoying time together, a kid, about 13/14 years in age, well dressed, came to us with a weird facial expression, he was delighted to see the bottle of coke kept on our table, and said something incoherently to I don’t know whom while trying to extend his hand towards the coke. We were astonished at this and I had so many thoughts running in my mind. First it reminded me of a guy who could try to be an extra smart kid and checked if he could take the bottle without our attention. Then the callous way in which he was trying made me feel that he was not that smart. He might be a poor fellow like the one who would ask you for money or food at the pavements near Esplanade and I thought how people like these could get into this sophisticated and civilized(?) shopping mall. But then the dress of that guy was saying against it. So I was trying to develop a third line of thought like this guy may be a victim of the disease I have just heard about but haven’t faced in reality – kleptomania. While I could think about one more line of such thought, a graceful gentleman with a little embarrassment in his face came running towards our table, and took the kid in his control, and said sorry to us. And then while he was busy feeding his child with some food and coke that he has just brought from the counter, I was still thinking about reasons why that fellow did it. And the gal who was accompanying me asked me if I would get angry if she did something. She wanted to give that guy one of the chocolates I brought for her. I paused to work out reasoning behind the child’s action and looked at her. I felt I am once again in love with this simple girl who earns mere 5 thousand a month working 10 hours a day and 6 days a week inside a cramped textile workshop in one of the filthy streets of Burrabazar. It’s not that how you live makes you great; it’s just about how you think. While I was thinking in an exactly different line, - of logic and reasons like most other civilized chap, this girl did try to make that kid a bit happier if she could.



Often when I think that this gal is not mine and someone else’s girlfriend, I feel I am guilty if I love her. But the thing that I believe now is no matter if she is having a boyfriend or not, no matter whether I am the one to marry her or not, no matter what other people would think about me if they know I am dating someone else’s girlfriend, there’s nothing wrong in loving a truly good person by nature. And I am proud to be in half love with my half-girlfriend once again.







Post Script: When she offered the chocolate to that kid, his father was happier than the kid, and that made me happy. Later, before parting, the gentleman came to us and conveyed his sincere thanks and said that he hails from Bangladesh and came here for the treatment of his child, and the child is really enjoying in Kolkata, and he is so pleased to be here that he is not even game to go back to his motherland. The city has won the heart of even that spastic child. And sometimes, the word WIN reminds me of its Bengali equivalent, JOY. Kolkata, like the extraordinarily ordinary girl of my story you are so wretched a city, but only now I know why people call you the city of joy!

Cramped CAT

When was in college, I used to see batch-mates studying for CAT and all such exams, I was in no mood. Thought it's enough to get a job that offers 15k salary p.m. But when landed in reality, could easily assess the value of an MBA degree. When I was a kid, and did well in Xth Board, ppl around me anticipated I would become an engineer and doctor, but a year ago when I was a Marketing Engineer, in a French MNC dealing in the power and transport sector, I could see what returns an engineering degree can fetch. I used to just print crores of pages and scan personal documents of seniors. And I knew hell couldnt be worse!



I had a little interest in finance/ share trading/ investment/ entrepreneurship and a lot of affinity towards spending money, and obviously the desire for earning the same to empower myself. And I clubbed them together, and what came out is this career option - An MBA degree, but only from the top 20/ top 30 colleges in India, otherwise return on investment (high course fees and two years time) won't be good enough. And then started to THINK about preparation. But got lazy, sat for CAT 2007, got 96.7%ile overall, with great DA and good QA, but pathetically low in VA (around 45%ile, as i remember). I knew being from a vernacular medium this bilayiti language is the demon.



I made plans for CAT '08, purchased old IMS materials from college street in Kolkata, and also even took the TIME test series (previous year, i didnt have any book/ material/ course or even these AIMCATS)... but the materials gathered dusts perpetually. Was doing good in mocks. had a high hope as usual. But at the end, it was Fiasco, CAT '08 - 75%ile, with QA and DI above 85%ile, and VA as low as 16/17 %ile with negative score. I bought forms for NITIE, IMT, MDI, SP JAIN, - all wastage of money! fared badly in SNAP, JMET and NMAT.



And then started preparing seriously in a small group of three. We were doing well for first 3 months, my focus was solely on VA. and then occurred the accident. the other two of my group got smitten in love, and the functioning of the study group collapsed. the situation at work was getting bitter and bitter, and I decided to resign, got 2 months time before CAT, but was not honest enough. Only spent time with improving my VA skills. And the result was reaped. Was getting highest %iles in VA in Mocks. finally exams came. IIFT - 17.5 only, XAT - 92%ile (expected 96-97%ile, and the XIMB app fees were wasted), initially never thought about GIM for quality issue, and now was thinking - want of choice! Alas, it was too late now, dates are over! JMET - no rank even. after FMS test, I was delighted after having an expected score of 250 and knowing that last year a score of 230 fetched an interview call. But then only 350 around students were called for 71 odd seats, and I was not lucky enough to be there in that list. And now just waiting for CAT in which I could only attempt 42-45, and i have heard of 50+ attempting candidates in umpteen number. So keeping my ten fingers crossed. And then I have a knack in creativity (design based, and am little fond of communication development of late, am part of a Toastmasters Club in the city) - and also do freelance design jobs. So waiting avidly for MICAT!



When I left my job I was confident enough with my funds, but cash flow was pathetic, and that financial might collapsed, thinking about joining back to the same post at same pay scale at the same hell of a company.



Lost almost all the races so far, gained something - experience. And that invigorates me for one more endeavour - looking forward to November 2010.

The Power of Hope - My Project 3 Speech

Mr. Toastmaster, fellow Toastmaster and my dear friends, before I start my speech, I put this question to you all. What, according to you, is our greatest mental strength? What is the most powerful thing a human mind can have?

Well, you may opine for other things. But to me, it’s hope. Hope is not just a four letter word. It’s like a horse having four strong muscular and powerful legs namely H, O, P and E. And we have to ride this horse in order to chase our dreams. Don’t trust me? Well, I will tell you three short stories, nothing else, just three stories.

The first story is an anecdote from the life of the legendary king of Scotland, Robert Bruce. He was an extremely generous king and one of the most famous warriors of his time. He was the pioneer of Scotland’s freedom from the English rule. But success, as you all know, doesn’t come easy. In his early life, he was defeated by the enemies and was driven away from his kingdom. While he was on the run during the winter of 1305 AD, Bruce hid himself in a cave in Ireland. There he observed a spider spinning a web, trying to make a connection from one area of the cave's roof to another. Each time the spider failed, it simply started all over again until it succeeded to make the cobweb. Inspired by this, Bruce returned to inflict a series of defeats on the English, thus winning him more supporters and eventually the victory.

The second story is from a 1994 Hollywood movie. It was 1947. Andy, an innocent banker, was convicted of murdering his wife and her lover, based on strong circumstantial evidences. He and his close friend in Jail would dream about spending happier times out of the prison. But repeated trials for parole ended in fiascos. And while his friend was under stark pessimism, he kept on hoping against hopes. He uttered to himself, “Fear can hold you prisoner; hope can set you free.” And he kept on doing; something which nobody knew what, not even his friend had any idea about it. But one day, his cell in the prison was empty. He used a few inches long tiny old rock hammer and spent sleepless nights year after years, to make the way out. And he crawled to freedom through five hundred yards of shit smelling foulness one can't even imagine. Five hundred yards... that's the length of five football fields. But the other end of the drain is what the return on his audacious optimism can be.

Now, the third one is not actually a story or a movie. It’s very much a real life incident. It was the year 1940. In the United States of America, a baby girl was born; prematurely; weighing only 4.5 lbs. Life was like deep darkness to her as she caught infantile paralysis. She was pathetically sorry not being able to walk or play like her other 19 siblings. But her mother was unperturbed; she tried a lot to make things better for her child. She was recovering with time. But there were more things to come. At the time of recovery she was wearing a brace on her left leg and foot which, as a result, got twisted. But just this was not the limit of all worries. Murphy’s Law is sometimes so inevitable. She got scarlet fever, whooping cough, chicken pox, measles, and pneumonia twice. But was it the end of her story? Did she die like just another diseased girl? No, not at all, my dear friends. Her mother was rich in hopes and she kept on trying to cure her child’s problems. And then the baby girl grew up fighting with all the antagonistic power, and at the age of 20 she emerged as a powerful sprinter who proved her mettle by winning 100 meters Gold, 200 meters Gold, and 4x100 meters relay Gold in the 1960 Rome Olympics. She was Wilma Glodean Rudolph.

Now leave the whole world, and let me tell you about my own self. Every time I give a speech as a Toastmaster, I feel, I am not doing it up to the mark. But the hope to do well again, the hope to improve my skills, and the hope to excel in near future is what keeps me attending the Toastmasters’ meeting again and again. And I wish Toastmasters always stays a harbinger of hope to me and to many speakers and leaders of this world.

Hope is like a heeling balm to the ailing people of the aching earth. Hope is a ray of light that does disperse the darkness of despair. Hope is the panacea of this strife torn world. And the best way to testify ‘Hope’ is to conclude with this quote that was there in my all time favorite movie,

“Hope is a good thing and may be the best of things and no good thing ever dies!”

Thank you.

Looking Through A Creative Eye*

Friends, when I heard about this seminar, I had thousands of butterflies in my stomach. What on earth could be a good topic for me to speak on! But then to find the solution to that problem, I became a bit creative. Didn’t look at the world around for a topic. Instead, just peeped into my mind to get a topic related to my ownself. And then the word that yelled out is nothing but CREATIVITY.

Creativity is simply making your aesthetic sense speak out your imaginations. Girls, if you wanna look gorgeous, go get the best dress that suits you, not the costliest one, but the unique one that matches with your mental hues, that reflects your aura. Guys, if you wanna impress your girl, just take a small piece of matchbox, pack it with a black chart paper, break matchsticks into small pieces, and stick them on the box writing the name of your ladylove, encircled by a lovely love sign. And who knows the very moment she will be yours.

On 5th of September next year are you planning to buy your teacher an elegant fountain pen from parker and a musical Archie’s card? Well you will be happy to spend some money on them, to show respect to your beloved teacher. But your teacher will be happier and highly pleased to see you cut out a black-board shaped piece of cardboard and write two lines on it – not a literary excellence, but just the correct use of grammar and damn simple words that comes straight from your heart – just two lines, that’s all, nothing more than that.

You love your mom, and wanna make her enjoy her birthday in style? Don’t think about the yummy delicacies from the best restaurants of the city. Don’t think about any INN, think what’s there IN you. Just make a dish on your own as simple as sojne phool-er bora, and serve it hot with pudina chatni garnished with tomato slices, and I assure you, she will be more than enthralled, no matter if you have added too much of salts and pepper in that or a little less than required.

Creativity is not a hard-to-create thing. It’s something God has already created in you, and you don’t recognize it so far. We all are gifted with certain amount of creative skills, but we take too much time to unwrap that gift and make use of it. So the next time, a big occasion or just an usual Sunday morning, be creative and decorate your house with colored papers for your mom’s birthday or cook your own recipe for your dad. And let the magic happen.



* A write up on a seminar topic for my fellow classmate

CATaclysm

The evening at Belurmath reminded me this word. When I was a kid and was learning this wonderful language called English, I used to spend a lot of time learning new words. A red color hardbound lexicon popularly known as “SAMSAD ENGLISH TO BENGALI DICTIONARY” was my most favorite companion when I used to mug up those difficult-to-spell words or the tantalizing tongue-twisters. And it was one of those words that were learnt years ago, and forgotten almost at the same time. But someone said, using words helps you learn them effectively. You remember them more than you would have by just searching for the meaning of them in an age old pillow-shaped dictionary. And I was actually enjoying my last evening before hibernation. The winter has just arrived in Kolkata, and I am feeling the need to hide out in my niche - not because of winter actually, but because of something that every winter brings along to aspirants like me - the CAT exam. I left my job 2 months ago with plans of being bookworm and locking myself up in my 8ft x 10 ft abode studying hard for the common admission test, but only to roam around the city in the end - with friends, girls, girlfriends. I had been to all the happening places of the city – pubs, malls, the expensive cinemas, and places where gluttons and gastronomes gather (restaurants, in simpler language – it’s not that every time I aspire audaciously to alliterate - am recently reading another red colored half-pillow-sized but paperback book - Word Power Made Easy by Norman Lewis – I really can’t help using those newly learnt G-words – and the best learnings are those that you acquire by practical use – I have introduced the philosophy already in the first para above). Money was being wasted as if water – if I just translate the sentence that my mom would use in Bengali to scold me for wasting money, it would have been – I am letting money flow out of my hand as if it’s water. But that day I went to a place where water is actually flowing – from an oblivious age. I went to Belurmath – the pilgrimage where Ganga is flowing. I knew I am going to hibernate for next one month till 30th November – the CAT date for me. And before that I wanted to have my last evening spent with fun and frolic. I decided to cross the Howrah Bridge to go to the other side of the river. I wanted to bridge the gap between me and Poms[1]. And when I reached there I was sitting idle on the lawn near the ghat (the steps to the river) till the time she arrived. I was occasionally looking at pairs who were busy doing chit chats and things that young couples usually do at places like this far from their home and amidst green and serene atmosphere. And then I concentrated on an earthworm that was just inches away from me and was trying to push a maggi-like mass of mud up by its tail (or mouth, or whatever! They both look alike). But I was getting bored and tried to read few more pages from my recent companion of all outings (Word Power Made Easy). But then the girl, sitting just next to me ogled at me with a weird look. I guess she was not impressed with a guy sitting at such a serene place looking at a placid book. So to make her happy or to make myself feel more impressive to her, I closed the book, and put it inside my ALSTOM-marked-black-bag. And I looked at the serene shrine in front of me – the holy Ganga. And my eyes were fixed on a middle aged women clad in saree, hindusthani style[2]. Her appearance suggested she was from a lower middle class family and the mother of two at least (or three or more – the lower middle class families in India usually have more children than they can really afford, and their rich counterparts despite having so much of wealth have very less number of people to inherit that – completely my personal belief though – or may be even misconception – nobody should be offended). She was offering pranams to Ganga Maiya with folded hands touching her forehead just below the veil. I guess, she was praying for the well being of her kids just like how I often pray for my success in this year’s CAT. She came to Ganga – the river that embodies affluence, abundance, fruitfulness – a deluge of all the good things in life – a cataclysm of happiness. She threw a coin (it may be a one-rupee one, but I would strongly believe it was a five-rupees coin, as I know the lower middle class are so theistic that they spend more at such religious places than they can reasonably afford – they are so devoted) to the holy Ganga just like how, my mom believes, I ‘pour’ money in water.

The logical self that I have tells me that there is a necessity of atheism. But the emotional one is more devoted to God. It makes me believe in divinity. And when I am at such divine places the later one always gets the better of the former. And I don’t know why I joined my both hands in the same manner that the poor lady had done moments ago. I prayed to the holy Ganga to give me the go – to go and vie for victory. I prayed to her to bring in my life the cataclysm – the deluge of happiness – not the one that one derives after getting an MBA degree and the associated affluence – but the one, one enjoys to one’s heart’s content – the happiness of achieving something – the fruitfulness after doing something difficult – the abundance of satisfaction on cracking CAT.

Only a month left! I need the deluge of determination to make the CATaclysm happen.



Footnoes

[1] – my half girl-friend; go through my last blog entries to know more about this.

[2] – the non Bengali women especially those from neighboring state Bihar do not wear sarees in the same manner that Bengalis do. And this is one thing which helps us recognize a woman whether she is a Bengali or otherwise.

Beats in the Heart

Toastmasters are fanatics. They harp on the same string, - communications, communications, and communications, - how effective your message can reach your audience is how better you are as a Toastmaster.


Speaking about communications, this early morning calm and the arcane silence remind me of one person, who, I think, can be called as one of the greatest toastmasters of all time. Gurudev Rabindranath Thakur. It was he who fostered a new trend, a culture that embodies modernity and richness. Just for the last few hours I was listening to one ordinary Bengali song that took me to an extraordinary height – where the mind felt no bondage. It takes my mind to a journey to a distant place – a journey to nowhere – where I would feel the charm of serenity – the solitude that helps people rediscover themselves. A century ago, one scattered words as if they were pearls, and made garland of songs and now, in the age of 3G mobiles, palmtops, and YouTube, people adorn the same ornament as the décor-de-soul. Time, space, all bounds – are effaced by the appeal of the songs, nay the hymn of hallowing. Should “effective” not be the apt adjective for this sort of communication? And Tagore was a true toastmaster who had toasts of songs for all the occasions in life, be it soothing or saddening.

Amalo Dhabolo Paale – legechhe mondo modhuro hawa. The gentle breeze has pushed the bright white headsail. And Tagore’s creations pushed the headsail of the canoe of this community in the sea of creed and culture. Tagore Songs, however, are not just gentle breeze but the gust of gale; it will keep on pushing, even in its serene and tranquilizing vocal forms, not with the instruments that add impurity to what is, to me, the music straight from the core of our heart.

Nudging a nudge

The above usage might not have been proper, but am feeling the nudge to use this word more and more, and just checked my desktop WordWeb[1] to ensure that I can dare to use the word once as a verb and then as a noun in my latest blog title. I felt the nudge from two persons in last two days. Yesterday we had a discussion with part of our EC[2] and few KTM advisors. And in that meeting KTM Kunal used the word at least 4 times. He might have been nudged by the book Nudge[3] that he had recently read. But it was he who nudged us to learn this word. Nudged ‘us’ – means not only me, but there are more people who are feeling the same spree. I heard Abdul Bhaiya discussing about Kunal’s using the word too often in yesterdays meeting, and now, today we heard KTM Amit using the same word again in today’s usual toastmasters’ meeting, which for this week, was unusually scheduled on a Thursday. The reason is, tomorrow is someone’s birthday, our VP-Ed Ankit’s – along with the ‘father of the nation’s. We won’t have our meeting venue open for tomorrow, a holiday. Calcutta Chambers of Commerce will be closed. Holidays are galore for last couple of weeks, festive season is in progress. No doubt, everybody is happy for it.




But even I am in a holiday mood already. I have been dating different gals for the last three days. And today when I was on a date, I was practically nudging a bit. I am not doing an uphill task, nor have I done any significant contribution to the club till date, but am terribly enjoying my role as VP-PR. Everyone who speaks out in front of me is being nudged to step forward towards joining the toastmasters club, or at least towards attending a meeting as a guest. I met a chat friend today. We know each other from long ago, since our college days, but only virtually. Banglalive.com, a few emails, Google-talk and all – these were by far our dating venues. And we met just today. We had lunch together, we watched a movie, and all these while I was trying to impress her. I was trying to do so, as the VP-PR in me was nudging me from within, to try and persuade this girl to attend today’s toastmasters meeting. I even could afford a pickup and drop facility by ‘hired taxi’ for her so that she is enough nudged to be there at the meeting and don’t worry about the hectic travel to and from Park Street. We reached there half an hour early, we entered the attached CCD outlet but the jam-packed hall nudged us to leave CCD and resort to the KFC on the other side of the road. First, we ensconced ourselves in the red couch at KFC, and then while I was enjoying a delectable bite from the Kentucky-fried-chicken’s crispy golden leg piece, I was praying to almighty, may the KTM’s meeting for today is enough fun-filled and it maintains the high quality that it has benchmarked for itself. It was necessary for my guest to feel the nudge. And at the end of the meeting, when we were returning, and we were talking voraciously, I felt, that she felt it. The small bite of KTM experience that she had today is enough to make her hungry for the coming days. And am sure, she will return to future meetings, if not the very next week. She was speaking volumes about how Ankit was nodding and encouraging her to keep on speaking while she was on stage for the table topics, how Kunal’s eyes were so attentively fixed on her when she was talking, how graceful she felt about the way Abdul bhaiya evaluated Stacey. In short, she was spell-bound, she was mesmerized, and she was marveled. She liked the people, she liked the meeting, and she loved the toastmasters’ style. My nudge was nothing but successful today.


Nudge can and will always be successful if you nudge from within. No matter how difficult the task is, or how distant the goal is, it’s the nudge which seems like a tiny push apparently, but itself is a big step in your own success story. Constant nudging will ensure the tryst with your coveted destiny.


So, keep nudging, don’t settle! :)




Footnotes:

1. A very handy windows application for dictionary cum reference, and I suggest you to get it installed on your machine.
2. Short form for Executive Committee. In any Toastmaster club we have to form this committee with few officers who will take care and govern the club for certain tenure.
3. You can have more info about this book at http://www.nudges.org/

Of Relationships, Love and Lust

Relationships, according to Bengali contemporary art films, are the most confusing subjects in the world, one of the most confusing words in dictionary. They not only confuse those who are engaged in them but also those who are surrounding those direct victims. Relationship is given different names, such as Father-daughter relationship, mother-son relationship, boyfriend-girlfriend relationship and so on. But in almost all the cases it comes from the basic NEED, primarily. I need a girlfriend, and that’s why I, in my surroundings, will look for girls who can be my friend and can cater to all my needs that can be fulfilled by someone who is a girlfriend. Need is the base of all relationships, this can not be supported by people who will try to remind me, that when my dad and mom love me, they do it for no benefits or gain. They do it because they love me so much, and the relationship with my mom and dad is depended entirely upon that love and no proper needs. I agree to them in the point that they love me a lot, they definitely do so. But just think about it the way am doing it now – they love not me, but the guy who is their son. Now, am I not sounding more confusing than the word relationship? I am. But the fact is they love the son in me, and not me in particular. Had I not been their own son, they wouldn’t have taken care whether I am getting my meals properly, whether I am shivering in cold in the month of December, or whether I am learning the right things in life. They needed to love their son, and they are doing their bit. Purely biological needs, I should say. I just happened to be their son incidentally. They needed a son for two reasons, - one, they needed to carry forward the generations even after their death, - two, they wanted to find a prop in their wards who they believe would take care of them in future. Now, don’t think that I am telling all these things about my parents. I am just giving an example to discuss my theory, the scope of application of which is as vast as universe is, i.e. any other species of animals or plants might be doing the same on the other end of this earth, and who knows, on some other planet in this universe.


I loved a girl for many years. And she, to me, was the cutest and the most beautiful girl on earth. (I hadn’t seen enough of this earth by that time though, :)) And I kind of love her till now, even though she is happy with some other guy, who, I suppose, is able to fulfill all her needs more effectively and efficiently. I love her because… I can not complete the sentence. How deeply may I ponder over it, I will fail to find out one real reason with which I can logically establish there is a justification. Only thing that therefore now I can guess is, she was just the one I found out first in my life. There could have been many, but fortunately or unfortunately I couldn’t find any one of them before I found her. There was a fill in the blank question. And I had only one option (only one person) left for that blank (for that need/relationship) to be filled up. And just like the brilliant student that I was in my childhood, I filled up that blank and got full marks then. But now I find someone has given me the same question with the word in that blank deleted once again, and left with no optional answers (Pick a word / name / person on your own from the passage, oops your own life).


Lust is one more biological need that caters to both love and relationship needs. Lust is what is needed for the next generation to be created. Lust is what is necessary to make the so called love long-lasting. It’s the lust because of which we fall in love, we make love, we create relationships, and we spread relationships. It’s the reason why god or the anonymous superpower made the 22 pairs of humane chromosome similar whereas, the last (23rd) pair different for men and women.


Need is the word. Need is there, and love will sustain, relationships will attain success. Need is not felt, and umpteen number of divorce cases, ditching by one’s bf/gf, break ups and all happen. It’s very tough to sustain a relationship and tougher is still to be in love in that relationship. Because the toughest task is to make somebody feel that you are needed.


(For all my readers: Wish you a need-full life ahead!)

Just another Bong movie…

Antoheen – Endless… that was the film title. After a long time, after an endless wait I could watch a Bengali movie and relish it to my hearts content. I actually saw it a month ago, when I was enjoying my separation blues. I just had left office then, was having no job other than lazing around. And then I resorted to YOU… youtube, that’s like my cinema hall since I have reconnected my PC with the cyber highway, thanks to the ORTEL broadband connection and its 512 kbps speed which is making streaming superfast all the time. Bengali movies are not so great these days, that’s the common comments you can hear if you are in the crowd that comes out from the exit of any Bengali theatre hall after a show of contemporary commercial movie. That’s why people love to be happy with art films. At least, they are not boring, though people somehow associate boredom with art films. The only problem that I find in art films, and more specifically, in recent Bengali art films is that they always try to focus on human relationships… before marriage, after marriage, extra marital … all sorts. It’s always ok sometimes, but too much focus on extra marital affairs is taking a toll on public, I feel they don’t try to depict newer ideas, innovation has taken its wings. But here is one movie, a bit different in its style, a slightly different in conveying its message. Yes it’s also about relationships, the point of view that some relations are not as simple and as predictable as people can think of. But this didn’t have that escapist attitude, i.e. if you are not happy with what you have you ought to find happiness somewhere else, in someone else. It actually shows the joy to bear the glum of unsuccessful love. In fact success of love can be best defined not by how long people stay together, or how well people are settled in happily married life, it is actually is measured by how much one misses his/her love partner. Abhik missed brinda so much, but she is not there in this world any more. And it’s too miserable to see that Abhik could know this only after she left this mortal world, that this is the girl he had regular chats with, and whom he fell in love with. Too unhappy and saddening an ending. Still it depicts the central idea too well. Endless wait – that’s what we are compelled to do sometimes in life and you really can’t help it.


The movie, I am sure, must have had a great fan following in the modern Bengali youth. The way of showing things, the lifestyle of characters, the habits of people, trends – everything is so close to today’s young generation. People love to see the movies showcasing the way people communicate these days with text messages, yahoo messengers, internet chatting and all. They love to see CCD in the backdrop of a conversation over a cup of coffee. A lot can happen over a cup of coffee. Truly, so. And these days the movie makers are cashing on it. Coffee is doing its bit in popularizing things. And the subtly shoot scenes where the movie performed the promotional acts of its sponsors were so intricate and interesting. I loved the banner that was floating in a gust of air. It was showing the picture of air blowing gently. At the same time spice jet ad spiced the scene of this modern film, the prop is actually good enough to show that this is not a story of an endless wait of two lovers in Saratchandra’s classics. Similiary I liked all of them, the Compaq laptop, the reliance communication network, the popular Bengali news channel Star Ananda. This is marketing at its best.


Now, sorry to mention issues of marketing in praising an artwork of class. But frankly, I liked this movie so much I don’t have much word to say about it. The adjective ‘indescribable’ would best suit it. And I am sure it would, as myself have seen it third time in three weeks. After all I liked this movie because, who knows, like the light that fell on the Frida Kahlo’s self portrait in Brinda’s room, there isn’t also a beam of light that’s falling on my own portrait… who knows, it’s not showing the endless wait in my life as well. Now don’t make a question mark on your face. That’s a long story, and this blog is too small to tell you that tale. So let it be some other time. And indeed, “Certain things are best left unsaid.”

Rising in Love

The spirit behind choosing this topic for today’s blog comes from two things – firstly because Abdul bhaiya, in his P10 of CC manual delivered his trademarked-graceful-elegant speech with the same title and made me feel that sometimes it’s not just falling but actually attaining a higher elevation in terms of happiness, content, optimism, and what not, when you “fall” in love, – and secondly because I was literally feeling like ‘rising’ in love for the first time in my life, after falling in the same on numerous occasions.

Yes, I say it without any hesitation that I fell in love on so many occasions, first with that bubbly little pinkish girl of my 1st Standard who always snatched from me every little craftwork that I would make to make my creative and innovative skills speak out my aesthetic excellence, and then with that epical girl riya, who’s as far as galaxies are to me at this point in time, and all this while with those ephemeral glances of kohl-lined eyes behind sparkling spectacles, ready-to-burst-out figures behind those trendy lavish dresses at Park Street, the shy-looking-salwar-clad intellectuals in BBD Bag minibus. But, today it was different! “Today it was different!” can be the most frequent reaction after a lovelorn lass-loving lad dates with his latest lady-love. But trust me, today it was different… in the sense that this time I was dating with not my gal, not my would-be, not with any future prospect. I was with Rahul’s girlfriend all the time. Now, like inquisitive blog readers you must be wondering who’s Rahul. To tell you the truth, frankly, Rahul is the boyfriend of the gal for whom I happily and readily bunked today’s toastmasters’ meeting which on the other hand was like another girlfriend cum time-pass cum motivation till I last relinquished my hope of getting a gorgeous girl to spend Friday evenings with.

I love making websites, I love designing invites for party, I love making layouts for newsletters and that’s why I loved when they elected me to be the Vice President – Public Relations for our club. Now I have a little bit of regret that I missed today’s meeting and missed one important announcement that was to be made in order to make sure we meet our September quarter newsletter target date. But I loved this girl equally so much so that I resort to the management mantra that life is always some kind of trade off in some way or other, and you can’t help it. In this case, I traded in my responsibilities as a PR officer of a Toastmaster club for few more hours with HER in the constringed seat of the dingy stuffy bus that travelled through the narrow stretch of NH-2 clogged by scattered men and women out on pre-puja euphoria and waded through cacophonous din and bustle of the once-so-growing and now-breathing-its-last industrial areas of Howrah.

It was our 4th date overall, and 1st with none other but HER. We had few outings, but going by the lingo of software professionals, they can better be termed as team outings. We had a variety of people in our group, English first year, B.Com graduate searching-for-job, a would-be-getting-married-soon who’s as if enjoying her last few days of freedom, a pair of love-smitten students. And amidst that commonplace group of ours, we had regular exchange of glances, enjoyed a little pat at my back, slight touch of HER swaying hair, HER gorgeous grinning, chocolaty chortle, false frowns and all other fugacious phenomena that others were not interested in, but I would always be eagerly waiting for.

But today SHE was all mine. I felt like a king holding the hand of the empress, and enjoying the charms of HER Highness. HER soft hands were not cold like the other day. They were lukewarm, just as warm as it should have been to imply that our relationship is going to be a warm one. Used tissues which were lying here and there over the floor of my empty room, were reminding me of HER again. The folds in those paper balls resembled HER palm-lines. The bolster that bore HER touch marks resembled HER (at night). I was missing her, terribly.

I didn’t make out with HER, I was in no mood to do so. The only thing that I could make out from the experience that I had with HER, SHE is just like a bud, petals are still unfurled. And I would eagerly wait till the time, when it will be in full bloom, slowly but steadily, and spontaneously, and I won’t be the one like the guy in that book I gave her today to read. I can not be as desperate as Deb was, in fact I should not be. SHE is too innocent to be treated otherwise. A pearl or two rolled down HER cheek, smudging the kohl eye liners. It’s too precious to be wasted again. I am becoming a good guy suddenly. I am thinking about all the good things in life. I am just thinking about how carefully god crafted HER, so unique, yet so simple. “Of course I love you, till I find someone better” – was the title of that book. But don’t know why, I feel I can’t find someone better for me. Just like how Deb was rising in love with Avantika, I am rising for the first time in half-love, – half-love, with my half-girlfriend.

Born Again!

…experience of a newbie toastmaster

24 years ago, when I was lying in a hospital cradle beside my mother’s bed, I must have cried a lot, and I guess, that was the beginning of something - my own way of communicating with the outer world. I cried for anything and everything that I wanted to express to others.


Days have gone by. I learnt how to tell my mom that I was hungry. I learnt how to tell my dad that I needed a new toy car. And I learnt how to say the answers to questions asked by my teachers. I was happy that I could speak, speak up and speak out my mind.


I was communicating. And I was communicating well; people around me could understand me properly. But poor me, I never knew there was a climax waiting. And as I grew I met with new people who were not so similar to me, in the sense that they didn’t use the language that I was accustomed to. Oh dear! I met the demon called English. I was frightened. I was down. I wanted to escape. But then to my utter dismay I realized I really can’t let loose. And that demon is not really a demon but the way I look at it – and that can be even a genie that can help me to reach out to people, beyond the boundary of my province, beyond the border of my country.


I met with a teacher when I was in standard IVth. And he started with a conversation which at that time I really couldn’t make out. But ever since I grew up as a high school kid, I could understand the meaning underlying his first piece of words to me. He said something like this: English is just like your own mother – a beautiful lady covering her face with a veil on it – but she is always calling you in – I will help you to reach there – but it’s you who only can unveil her face.


And I was on my way to unveil her, and he always guided me in that path. But I grew up to pass out from school, left the hometown to join college. I joined job, I changed places, and all throughout I missed him.


I missed him, and I rambled here and there, completely lost in my way. And then I stumbled over the door of Toastmasters. And the door, I discovered, is leading to a way, the one that my first English teacher showed to me years ago.


Being a commonplace Bengali guy, and having studied in Bengali medium till 18 years of age, I really found it hard to cope up with the need of English speaking in my personal as well as professional life. But I had the will to conquer that fear. Where there is a will, there is a way. And in this case, the toastmasters became that way for me.


When I came to deliver my first prepared speech (the project 1 of Competent Communicator manual), the first thing that I left behind was my fear of failure. When I spoke on the first table topic in the Salt Lake Orators club, I didn’t pay heed to time limits and I feel something instilled in me the courage to keep on babbling for 3 minutes and 23 seconds! When I am burning the midnight oil to jot down this entry for the club newsletter, something is inspiring me to keep on writing. Something’s snatching the sleep out of my eyes. Something’s benumbing my senses against the feeling of tiredness. Something’s doing all such magical things.


Once in one of our club meetings a veteran speaker of our club was given a table topic where he needed to speak about a stone that has got magical power in it. He spoke about the club itself. Compared it to the stone, enunciated how the club does the magic and turns us on to be more courageous, confident and cogent in our approach to speak in public. Now I am feeling the same magic. And I agree to each and everything I heard from him that evening. That was one of the absolute moments of truth.


After every speech in toastmasters, we are given helpful evaluations. When I was in school, I used to get a report card after each of my exams. But a few days ago, an evaluator for my speech that I gave in the previous week, called me up and told, he couldn’t tell this in front of all that I needed to improve on the subject matter of my speech! How often have you heard schools giving two report cards? - One with less number of red marks on it, and so that you can show it to your mom easily, but along with the other one which is more helpful to assess yourself in a better way. God! People here are so considerate.


In regular toastmasters’ meetings, when I see a fellow toastmaster looking at his mentor every time he speaks, and at the same time his mentor putting ‘Thumbs up’ to him to boost his confidence up, I feel where else could I see the same kind of bonding between two people who do not belong to the same family. I always thought I have only one elder brother. But recently, like that fellow toastmaster I have found out that I have one more, who is actually like a bade bhaiyaa (an elder brother) to me too – A mentor, but more like a lighthouse in my dilemma. ‘Toastmasters’ is indeed a second kind of family, where we are members not by birth but by our desire to learn, to share and to grow, individually as well as collectively.


I owe toastmasters the motivation that helps me stand tall after every time I stumble. I owe you the confidence that evokes the smile of my face even at the most nervous situation. I owe you the courage that I muster before every single word I speak.


Until I joined toastmasters, I never believed in the theory of rebirth. But now, being a part of it, I have started to believe in the same. If it was the first time that I learnt how to cry in that hospital cradle, the next is this one, in the Kolkata Toastmasters Club. It inspired me to begin a new life. A life enlightened by the company of toastmasters.

Anything under the sun! - My Project 2 Speech

(Dramatically,…) Oh! This perspiration! And still it’s better in this air conditioned room. But just step out in the afternoon and look above… the cruel and angry ball of fire is bubbling in ruthless ire. – Scorching heat, sunburns, and this sultry summer – Ohh! Life’s hell under the sun, --- Mr. toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests, if we are thinking in this way, we are, for sure, taking a lopsided view of the mighty Helios – the heroic sun god. Have you ever imagined what would have happened to us in the absence of sun?


(Pause)…Well to even answer the question which I have just asked, you must need to mull over it, and for that you need your brain, but for the brain to be working you must be alive, i.e. you must have life, but life thrives on earth only because there is something called the sun.


We human beings are so proud about ourselves, as we are the mightiest and the most brilliant of the species living on earth, but do you know? - even we‘ve have been developed over a long time, slowly and steadily, from just a single celled organism. And that cell was created as an effect of complex chemical reactions. And for those reactions to take place there was a need of energy. And who catered that? – the sun.


Life on earth – well that’s something which the sun has done. But what about the earth itself? Geo scientists say that even earth is a small part of sun that got detached from the solar star many many years ago and cooled down over time to take the present form. So had there been no sun, there won’t have been something called earth!


There are other neighbours – Jupiter, Uranus, Neptune – they are the bigger planets – many many times bigger than the mother earth, still life never thrived on them, because, sun has never been so kind to them.


But he was kind to earth – whenever she needed him. He was kind to her because he loved her! And it was he who always came forward to rescue her whenever she was in a peril. Like, there was a time which historians call the “Ice Age” – there was thick crust of hard frost all over her body – things got frozen on earth – and survival became a difficult thing. And then there was the amorous look of the sober sun that acted as the ‘Ice Breaker’ – broke the crust of earth – removed her pale-gloomy-white widow-like dress, and dressed her up again in a new attire – the lush green foliage.


Plants came first, and the animals followed, and then we came to rule rampant. And we flourished on earth; we did so as we got the food and drink timely. Plants made the food for us, but to make that food, what did they feed themselves? It’s the light – the warmth of the sun rays. But that’s not all, Sun did cast his rays on oceans too, and vapours rose up in the sky, rumbled in the form of cloud, and showered back on earth - And we quenched our thirst.


For household activities, industrial operations, or even for day to day conveyance, we use so much of fuels and substantially fossil fuels – we use the energy that are pent up in coal / petroleum / wood – and it’s the sun who along with his last longing lingering look of the evening casts the soothing sunbeams, that are raw form of energy, which in the process of energy transformation, are stored in what we call, the fuel that drives our civilisation.


But these days, the environmentalists and the green people are much more concerned about the puzzling problem of rapid energy depletion. And they worry about the amount of fossil fuel still left in the planet earth for human beings to live on. Well, that’s indeed a problem and we must try to tame other forms of nature’s power which is available in abundance… And we must promote the use of renewable and non-conventional energy resources. And when we talk about a non-conventional and plentiful source of energy what can be better than the solar power? So, just look up and get the idea. Eventually, only a few days back Bengal witnessed the setting up of a 2MW solar power station in Asansol area. So things have started to move the solar way. And it’s a good indication that the human beings are being more intelligent and efficient in terms of usage of energy.


So we see that the story of sun is an epical one. The sun created the earth, reared her up, and it provided a solution whenever she faced a problem. So to sing the saga of the soothing sun that enamoured us for millions of years, mere few minutes is not enough, and this talk can go on and on, but to conclude, I must reiterate that this beautiful earth is a magical wonder – and the magician sun spells its golden rays – which in my imagination, are the sparkling magic wands. And upon earth, life begins with sun. Life gets food, life gets fuel, life gets the go to move on – for there’s sun. We play, we talk, we sing in joy – Anything’s possible, just under the sun.

The Ice Breaker - My Project 1 Speech

Mr. Toastmaster, fellow toastmasters and guests, this world is so big, and this guy, standing in front of you, is so small, yet a long memory he has been carrying for the last 24 years of his life… And he, through the next few minutes, would take you through an unknown alley… the oblivious memory lane of his yester years.

Even I am, quite naturally, oblivious of what happened on the world environment day in the year 1985. But I am pretty sure that on that very day there was an unnecessary burden on the world environment as this innocently looking fellow took birth on this mother-earth and increased the already exorbitantly growing population.

I was born in a middle class Bengali family in Durgapur, and to my parents - dad, currently a retired school teacher and my mom, a simple and sensible housewife all throughout her life. Three and a half years before my human incarnationJ, there came a little guest too in my family – my elder brother, who is now settled in Bangalore and working in an MNC on telecom.

And now about my own childhood, well I can not tell you more, as I hardly remember what sort of things I did, what type of intelligible phrases I used to babble, or what kind of rap music would I create when I used to cry those cacophonies to express my feelings. But as I remember, despite an effacing effect of time and age, I was a guy, bit shy and reserved. But I was not quite an introvert. I guess, the correct word would be ‘ambivert’, i.e. talking on specific occasions or in a specific group of people, and simultaneously keeping mum else where. I was quite often so quiet, that fellow students in my class who used to have fun and enjoy in the most childish ways of childhood, must have imagined me the leader of the opposition. I was such a disciplined guy, until, one day when the breaking news was that I have beaten a fellow girl of my class with my umbrella. I hope that was the beginning of my becoming a not so good boy. But I continued doing good during my school in academics. I completed both my Xth and XIIth from a Durgapur school. I got the taste of an achievement for the first time when the Xth board result was announced, and I could know that I have been 2nd in my hometown and 24th in the state board. I was on cloud nine. Until then, I never dreamt big, but it was really one of those very few memories when I felt great for what I have done in my life. I never felt the same joy further. Because I never did something like that in my life ahead. And when I was in college, I screwed up my grade points big time, much the way the guys did in the “5 point someone.” I got eight supplementary papers in my 4 years’ B.Tech. course, and I struggled a lot in my final semester to come out of my coveted institution with due dignity. NIT Kurukshetra bade me good bye with two handsomely looking jobs as well. And the next month, I joined one of them, ALSTOM – a French MNC dealing in EPC in the power sector. I was relieved as I got a secured path in my life, through which I could traverse the distance called life and at the end of every month I could bring home some money. But friends, by now I am nearly 24 and I have gained something that I can safely call “An Experience” and that tells me two things –

1. I need money
2. But in a way which suits me better.

Now you must be wondering, what am I going to tell, its nothing, but just the fact that very recently, even in the amidst of this recession period, I have left my job and haven’t applied for any. I am searching for something new, something unique that suits me better. I want to do what I feel I should do, and what my company pays me for not doing.

Well, I am here to talk about my life, and not about my future plans, so better I start sharing with you some more in depth knowledge of the specimen standing in front of you. I have been an enthusiastic and optimistic person from childhood. I am a hard worker too, especially when I like what I am doing. I have two good hobbies, both related to some sort of creativity. The first one of them is web designing. I have been a passionate internet surfer like many, the difference is, I felt that I should not be restricting myself in just logging on to others’ websites, but also should create webpages for others to view them. The second hobby that I have, is of making craftwork, I really feel an indescribable joy when I see scraps turning out to be showpieces or some utility in the process of value addition as well as beautification.

I feel good when I listen Tagore-songs, I love to eat chicken curry and I like Satyajit Roy, the person he was… the list is so long, I am not going in to much details. But one thing I must mention, I am not quite a movie freak, nor do I watch English movies that often. But every time when I watch the last few minutes of the movie “Shawshank’s Redemption”, I literally shed tears in joy; yes I pronounced the word correctly – JOY, because it shows me the victory of two things, against all odds. – the Dream and the Hope. Inspired by the movie, I have cherished a big dream in my heart, and I have high hopes too, to fulfil them in near future. And I wish, to get all your wishes, wishing me, my wishes come true.