……………….AND MANY CALLS LATER……..

It was Sunday 7 AM. The land line rang. The call was for my son. He took the call. His friends were planning an outing. The group consisted of 5 girls and 5 boys. They wanted to go for a movie. They decided to go for a Hindi movie. The phone rang once again at 9 AM.  The boys did not want to go for a Hindi movie. Two of them could not understand Hindi. An hour later, my son was attending one more call. They decided to go for a Tamil movie. Unfortunately, some girls could not follow Tamil. Soon, more calls followed, so did the confusion. This kept on until 3 PM. Finally, all of them decided to go to “Mummy.”   The problem was not over. Two girls had already seen the movie. By this time, already 15 phone calls had come. Each call lasted on an average for 20 minutes. With each call, the frustration was increasing for him. The last call came at 5PM. A decision was yet to come by. He could not handle the endless discussions anymore and finally dropped out of the program.

He was sitting on the sofa, with a sullen face. I was busy packing, as I to leave on tour, next early morn.

 I patted him on his back, and told, “Cheer up, we will see the movie when I return from tour.”

He replied, “It is not possible, today is the last day, for the Mummy movie.”

I said, “OK, we will go for the night show.”

His face brightened with enthusiasm.

We enjoyed the film. When we came out of the theater, it was raining heavily. We took an auto and reached home.

After I came back from tour, a similar call came on a Sunday.

I advised my son. I told him, “Two things are important in life; People and personal desire. For satisfying your personal desire, you have to do it alone or with just one think alike friend. When it is group activity, let the group decide, because then the group is more important than your personal desire. All you have to do is to join them to have fun.”

He was intelligent. He caught the message. Ten minutes later, one more call came. He answered the call.

He said, “All of you decide. After you finally decide, call me and just tell me, where and when to join you people. I will come there.” He put the receiver down.  Turned around and smiled at me. He said, “Thanks dad.” My son was growing. I smiled proudly, and said,“ Good.”

CHEERS!

I used to drink when I was young, like when I was 23years old . But I had no mentor. Four of us used to meet in a friend’s lodge every Saturday evening, and buy any brand of Rum available, mix it with coke and drink. I really did not enjoy boozing, because it tasted so bad, but I liked being high. I never developed a taste for drinking. Therefore, the habit did not stick. Later I could not find the right company for enjoying booze.

 Years rolled by, and I did not drink. Therefore, I rather became a teetotaler. Once the organization I worked for had a conference at Bangalore. In the evening, booze was served, “On the house.”  One of my colleagues was a self- taught at bar tending. He caught me sitting empty handed. He asked me why I did not drink. I told him I did not like the taste of booze. He smiled charismatically, and said,” I will be back.” 

He came back with a glass filled with clear liquid, and lots ice cubes floating on the top. He shoved the glass into my hands, and said “Drink.”

I liked him a lot. He was a very nice genuine person. He was kind hearted and spoke to every one in a civil manner. He never hurt anyone with his words. He had married, an equally courteous woman and was a wonderful father, to two doting daughters.

So I did not have the heart to refuse h is request. It was the most wonderfully prepared drink. White Rum, with some soda and some water, ice cubes with a dash of lime cordial, sparkling with a mild fizz: all in the right proportions. I relished the first sip, and said, “Wow, how did you do it?”

He said, “With practice.”

He was kind enough to give me four refills, each consistent in quality like the first one.

He became my drink mate. Once when I was attending to one of my relatives, in a hospital, he called me to his home, for a drink.  I told him about my situation that I had to baby sit my relative. He said that I could get my teenage son to look after the relative, until late night, and then relive him after our booze session was through. I said, “Good idea, I will come.”

My son came and took over. I went over to my friend’ house, had a nice time, and returned to the hospital by 1 AM.  My son went home and I continued to baby sit my sleeping relative.   

Later we changed our offices. I continued in Chennai, while he shifted to Bangalore.  Once on a business trip to Bangalore, when I met him, his relative was in a hospital. But there were enough people to attend on him.  He invited me for a “Small.” I told him it might be inappropriate to drink when someone was in the hospital.

He said, “By us not drinking, my relative’s health is not going to improve. Let us go.” I thought that it made sense. Therefore, we went to a nice bar and had a wonderful evening. It was followed by a good dinner. Then I came to the station, and slept like a baby, in the Chennai bound train.

Life is good only when you have good company. When you mix good booze with good friends, then it is so nice: Certainly worth remembering and delighting in.                      

   

   

FREEBEE

Some people have financial intelligence. They are able to earn, save and spend. Some are stingy. Some live for the day. They think that somehow there will always be money to spend.

One of my relatives, an elderly person, always bought things on credit.  However, he never paid in full, in spite of the fact that he could. He always used to keep a part of the payment pending. This used to happen month after month.  At the end of the year, there was that month’s payment and twelve months’ small leftovers that had snowballed into a huge amount.  Adopting a last minute strategy, he would pawn his jewelry, and pay his debtors. Then he had to pay monthly interest on the pledged jewel.  

This was because he of his callous attitude. He used to think, “So what? Let them wait.” If there were a family functions, outside Chennai, he would borrow money, to attend the same. He never paid the lenders on time.  The habit of his kept him permanently in debt.

Another young friend was a victim of credit cards. He was so fascinated with materials; he used to buy things mindlessly.  He had 30 shirts, and 6 watches. He purchased the sixth watch, just because it was on a 25% discount.  With his purchases, exceeding his payment capacity, he became a defaulter and so could not get another credit card or loan from other banks in the future.

One more sufferer of credit facility, used to buy things like there was no tomorrow. However, he paid the minimum amount due, every month without fail. He used to spend half a day, every day making online minimum payments for things he never used nor needed. His fascination for laptops, mobiles, tablets, cars and outside dining, over years bought him neck deep into debt. He borrowed money from Peter to pay Paul. Finally, to settle the debtors, he had to sell a prime property.  He still has not changed, refusing to learn lessons even from his own experience.

Another family due to such extravagant habits has borrowed money from all the friends and relatives. They too have no intentions of living simple. For them, spending money on dresses, mobiles, restaurants, is second nature. Hope they wake up before they meet their nemesis. 

Credit cards, a substitute for cash, help in an emergency or as a convenience to pay later.  The word credit has been misunderstood. It does not mean a freebee.

FIRST LADY

I have met many people and interacted with them. Some are pleasant, while others are not so. Nevertheless, in the crowd of me too people, just a handful are exemplary.

 One such person is my friend’s mom. His name is Hari. He has an elder and a younger brother. Mani was vibrant, full of energy, and had a booming voice. He was big made. Younger than I by five years, he was buoyant and could laugh at the slightest stimuli.  I used to hang around in his house. His mother was a very nice person. A very plain looking woman, her beauty lay in her brown eyes. They radiated warmth, and affection.  Having three teenage sons, who were ravenous most of the time, was quiet challenging. She was a teacher in a school. Managing profession and balancing the demands of motherhood, sat lightly on her. She could multitask easily. Those were the days when people used only the city bus as transportation.  So it took tremendous amount of energy, to travel to school, and back, in the hot humid whether.  But the demands of daily routine hardly showed in her.

She was selfless by nature.  Her joy was her husband and children. Her husband was a kind man, employed with the government.  She told me once, when she was pregnant with the third son, there was a  financial crunch in the family. She fed her two children and husband, and mostly starved, as there was little to eat.  To deliver the third child she had to come to her mother’s place, as was the practice followed during those days. As she boarded the train, she told her husband about her situation-imposed starvation. His eyes full of tears, he bade his wonderful wife a farewell.

Those days most of the marriages were arranged. Prospective bride grooms, would visit the girl at her place, with his parents. If the pair liked each other, the parents would get down to the nitty gritty of the wedding. Many men had rejected her hand in marriage, as she was plain looking. She was very sad at these rejections, and pleasantly surprised when one of the men had agreed to marry her without hesitation.  That is why she loved her husband a lot.

Her sister was in the United States. Even as early as 1972, she had started planning the future of her sons. She first left for the USA, and stayed with her sister. Her first son, who had completed his MBBS in India, joined her there for his further studies. Hari completed his Engineering and joined them later to pursue a career. Her last son, a graduate from IIT soon followed them. Her husband was the last to join them. Now the entire family is the USA.

She was the first woman I had seen, who was in a sense a complete human being. Affectionate, traditional, professional, ambitious, she played all the roles of woman hood to perfection. Be it as a wife, a mother, a mother- in- law and a grandmother.  She was also a very kind woman, who could be a good friend to a teenager like me.

I met them many years later, when they visited India. She had not changed one bit. She bonded with my wife within minutes, and presented two shirts, one fro me, and the other for my son.  They had a light dinner with us and as we said good bye to them, a feel of maternal affection, wafted from her persona and lingered with us for many days.

RPF- Railway Protection Force

While recently travelling from Chennai by train, I met an interesting RPF person [Indian Railway Protection Force]. About 28 years old, he stood near the open door of the compartment carriage. It is common practice in India to stand near the doorway, so that one can enjoy the breeze.

He struggled to speak in English, and spoke in a mixture of two more languages, Telugu with a sprinkling of Hindi. The output was amusing and had freshness in communication. He told me about his duties. He had to ensure that the railways schedules did not suffer setbacks due to mischievous elements.  He had to protect the properties of the railway .He had to protect the passengers and their belongings from thieves.

He said there were many burglars, who killed unsuspecting passengers with knives. Some of them mixed sedatives in tea and cool drinks, posing to be vendors and looted the travelers of their valuables. Sometimes he had to beat up the miscreants, blue and black, to punish them for their anti social activities.  He looked like a very kind person. I could not imagine that he could really hit the thugs.

As he was narrating these, I watched his expressions. As the wind blew on his face, his straight hair flew back. He was good looking, wheatish in complexion, had a sharp nose, and bright expressive eyes.  There was a smile always lurking in his eyes. Dressed in clean khaki uniform, polished brown shoes and belt, he looked fit and healthy.

I inquired about his family. His elder brother, married ,was in IT, in Bengaluru. He was staying with his parents in his head quarter, in Andhra Pradesh. He too was married and had a three-year-old son. He was straightforward by nature, and never took any bribes. His salary was meager, and he found it very difficult to make ends meet. Even in a small town, the house rentals were Rs.5000 per month. A visit to the movies and a hotel, meant an expenditure of Rs.500. `To add misery to gloom his father, “ Sincerely drank at least eight large every day.”

His tough job and soft nature were sometimes contradicting. This made him sad. Due to this, he felt disturbed and could not get deep sleep. He also wanted to improve his spoken English skills. He asked me for advice. For improving his English, I recommended that he start with first standard textbook and slowly work his way to higher classes textbooks.

I also asked him to come to terms with his job functions. I suggested a cleansing process. I asked him do the cleansing as the last activity before he fell asleep.  The technique was to take an inhalation and as he exhaled, imagine that all misconceptions, tension, traumas, negativities and sadness were leaving from his back in the form of grey smoke. Known as cleaning the emotional waste paper basket, this technique restores peace and harmony within.

He promised to try it. His station arrived. He got down, thanking me whole-heartedly for the kind counseling.

He flashed one of his brilliant smiles, and with a wave of hand disappeared into the crowd in the railway platform. 

MOST POPULAR PATTERN

Most people marry once. Some divorce and remarry. Some marry because they have lost their spouse.  While some do so, because they have put themselves in a tight corner. This is about those “Could not be avoided type” of marriages.  

First let me tell the story of one of my colleagues, whom I met in 1982. He had married a very rich girl, which had landed in a divorce. He was a lusty and robust man.  His second marriage was with his distant relation. His wife had a stuttering disability, and it could have been one of the reasons she could not find suitors to marry. So she chose to settle as his second wife. She soon delivered a child. It was a happy family.

She became pregnant once again after four years. This time her mother could not come down to help her. Therefore, she deputed her teenage daughter to help her pregnant sister. All was well for some time. Then my virile friend could not keep off the young blooming sister.  Unfortunately, the sister was also drawn to her, brother- in- law.  The predictable happened. They had a clandestine affair. However, these are things, which one cannot sweep under the carpet for long. Our macho man got the sister too pregnant. Then as expected, there were, tears, emotions, melodrama and guilt complexes. The two sisters became sworn enemies. I do not know whether he married the younger sister or not, due to legal issues. Nevertheless, he lived with both sisters, one in the first floor, and the other in the ground floor.

The last I heard of was that one of the sisters had committed suicide. I do not know whether it was the first or the second.

He had a very close friend. We will name him Sundar, for narration’s sake.  Sundar  was lean, unattractive, and tall. Sundar had a very nice, innocent ,faithful and good wife.  They  had  two sons. The younger in the fourth standard, and the elder one in plus two.  Sundar was influenced by his friend’s, second marriage. He too tried his luck with some women.

One day I saw Sundar in  a restaurant with his new found love.  He stole a glance at me, but avoided looking in my direction, all through the time he was in the restaurant.  I knew this fellow was up to something illegal. I did not wish him, and came out.

Later I came to know  that, this guy too had followed suit and married her as a second wife. Had I not met his family, I would not felt sad. However, knowing his childlike wife and growing children, I wished he had been more considerate of the feelings of others.

Once while working with a very young guy, he told me about his principled strict dad. He admired his dad for all the qualities, but felt let down, when his father suddenly married his mother’s younger sister. He told me,“ I never expected my dad to do something like that.”  I laughed and asked, “ Did your  aunt come down to help your mom during her pregnancy?”

He was surprised. He asked, “ How did you know sir?”

I said,“ Easy, that is the most popular pattern.” 

SPEECH PERFECT

My wife was working as a Secretary in a business organization. In her office, her colleague had attended a lecture. The speech was about the possibilities of dealing with stress. The speaker had inspired her.   The speaker was considered a spiritual leader, a living Master and he was the editor of a magazine too. My wife suggested that we too go to his speeches.

We went, quite early, as we learnt that the doors of the auditorium, would be shut, before the speech began. The auditorium was full. Sharp at 6PM, the speaker, dressed in spotless white clothes, began the talk. He stood before the mike and talked continuously for one and half hour. The speech was brilliant; the examples amazing, and the modulation and emotion optimal. It was a thrilling experience. 

As we returned home, I was told my wife,“ He is such a talented speaker.  Not once during the speech, did he falter, or search for words, or expressions. There was such excellent flow, so smooth, and even. I wish I could talk like him.”

I admire people who talk well; People who are able to speak continuously in a single language. I too, try to talk, either in English, or Tamizh, or Hindi as the need may be. But I try hard to be faithful to the language I use , without resorting to borrowing of  words from other lingo. I constantly listen to myself as I speak. This improves the flow. I have taken many good speakers as my role model, since I need to train people.

Three years later, we once again had a chance to listen to the same speaker.  We went with lots of anticipation. Once again, the speaker came, and stood before the mike. There was hushed silence. He started making the speech. He repeated word to word, expression to expression, example to example, the same speech he had given three years back. I have a very good memory, and I can recall the details of any speech that impresses me. What a disillusionment it was. I might have as well listened to a recoding. So, that was the secret to his perfect speech. Learning by -heart and reproducing. My wife enjoyed herself, since she could not remember the earlier speech. I guess that could be the generalized mindset of an audience. Short- term memory, which is taken advantage of, by a speaker. “ You do not remember, and so I repeat.”

This pattern of repeat speeches I have seen everywhere. I noticed this first in a famous Tamizh mythology speaker. Most of my bosses, have done this. I wonder, are they so starved of imagination, originality and creativity? If I were to say the same thing over and over again, then a part of me would die. I never duplicate my talks, because if I do so, then I would fail to stimulate myself, motivate myself, and would degrade into someone dull, unimaginative and downright boring.  To me I am my first audience. And the best way I can be alive and kicking, is to try a novel way of expressing myself, each time, every time. It does not matter, if I am not speech perfect, or have to search for a phrase, or a new expression, but as long as I am new to myself, it is reward enough.