To All the Girls

A large part of my growing up post the Calcutta years have been because of the amazing women I have met on my journey of life, and I am completely leaving out my sisters here. They have moulded my childhood, but the women I met post 2001 influenced who I turn out to be as an adult.

They taught me the meaning of friendship. They taught me even in this age, how difficult it is to be a woman. And they showed me how they can take the world on singlehandedly. Their lives today are a testimony to their achievement and how easily they can give it all up for family.

I can write a lot. And I have three hours to kill in the airport lounge. But as much as I love O.R.Tambo airport or the fact it's one of those last moments of self introspection, I realize that what I want to say can't be expressed in words. At least not in words of my own.


Gratitude often can't be. 


But probably this song by Julio says it better than anything else. As life passes on from one stage to another as per as the codes of Manu, “Ladies, it has been an honour knowing you all.”

To all the girls I've loved before

Who travelled in and out my door

I'm glad they came along

I dedicate this song

To all the girls I've loved before

To all the girls I once caressed

And may I say I've held the best

For helping me to grow

I owe a lot I know

To all the girls I've loved before

The winds of change are always blowing

And every time I try to stay

The winds of change continue blowing

And they just carry me away

To all the girls who cared for me

Who filled my nights with ecstasy

They live within my heart

I'll always be a part

Of all the girls I've loved before

You did make me who I am today. And thanks for being there – always.

The First Pick Up Line Ever

CAS had swaggered into his room after the usual early dinner one night in 185 SK. Being strategically located it was the best place to sit for a while before you could rush off to your room to study. 185 SK was a great place. Time stood still there. In fact, Time there had gone back to Middle Earth. The inhabitant was learning to speak Elven. Anyway, this was the time when CAS and the man in question used to chat till suddenly C would give a jerk and run off to study. S would go to call up someone in Bhopal and A would look here and there and then go and plan out his next two hours of study which would be regularly interrupted by swarms of hungry hostelites.

During one such discussion, the topic veered towards women. The species were abundant in the land they lived in and as enigmatic as ever. S was the most experienced of them all. After all, he was the one who was calling Bhopal. A stayed away from Women. They were supposed to know Black Magic and no good boy would ever fall for it. C on the other hand was already going around with a subset of the women Species called Seniors. They called him cute, pulled his cheeks, took him out to dinner and of course to the back stage. Now now, come on. Taking someone back stage is not as bad as you might be thinking. It was pretty common there – in the land around 185 SK.

Anyway, as I was saying, C and the man from 185 SK had an altercation over pick up lines. This was a new concept to all of them. This was supposed to be a potent weapon against the other species. And then had begun the hunt for the first pick up line. It was beset with difficulties. It had to be original. It had to be smart. It had to have the ability to filter out certain sub species.

And then exactly 8 years later…

Our man in question was looking lovingly at the second love of his life. What he saw brought tears of joy to his eyes. The Papri Chaat looked heavenly. And then he remembered Shimla Mirch, then he remembered Gulabji, then he remember 185 SK, then CAS and finally the challenge which he had forgotten all about.

This is called mind mapping in the industry he is in and he never quite figured out how it worked. Anyway, buoyed by the tasty Papri chaat he thought and then it struck him. The first pick up line ever.

And he was thrilled. It met all the criteria. It was original and smart and snobbish.

“So, now I know the cause of Global Warming.”

It took 8 years to find the first pick up line ever. I guess it will take him 8 more to use it.

Till then, he would enjoy the Papri chaat.

After Lord Krishna

He considered Lord Krishna to be a Dude. As in he thought Lord Krishna was the dude who defined what many years later people would term as dude-ism. Think about it. He had a happily married life, plotted better than most war game strategists and before doing that was the apple of the eye of an entire legion of women from one region alone. Imagine if Politics had not taken up his time, he would have been Love’s one and only Flag bearer for the entire world.

Typically we admire people for traits we do not have. He therefore was the typical Indian male brought up on the steady diet of statutory warnings “dating is bad for health” Too much time spent with friends made him a complete ignoramus on other type of relationships. So all through college he survived on the steady dope of tea at night with friends and home cooked food by mom.

As luck would have it, he had to go and take up a job. (It should be noted that Lord Krishna did not have to apply for a job). Our hero was pretty happy with the way things were going till one day his boss caught him at 5:30 on a Thursday evening.

“So what are your plans for the weekend?”

“hmmm.. errr… let’s see.. maybe a play.. or a movie. To be frank, I don’t know.”

“Are you serous?”

So in all his magnanimity the Big Boss decides that our hero needs a life. Promptly he decides to call up the dating agency and says, “I need 24 dates for my kid tomorrow. He needs to know more about women.”

And so it happened. He went to his 24 dates. And life changed for him. He realized that Lord Krishna was not just a dude. He was a cool dude. To be able to handle so many women is not a child’s play. By the time the dates ended, he was perspiring, frightened to death and almost ready to run a marathon if only to escape.

Women… they are scary.

(Disclaimer: The story is a complete figment of imagination and does not bear any semblance to any person dead, alive or existing in your imagination.)

Shakti - The Power

Last couple of weeks have been crazy. I have been travelling all over Western Uttar Pradesh trying to figure out how best we can develop grass root women entrepreneurs in the villages of India. Things have been tough. Often we have faced hostility, indifference and at times even sheer contempt but then at other times I have seen women fighting against all odds to create a new identity for themselves. And for those moments, every pain is worth it.

My travels have taken me to the most interior areas of Agra, Mathura, Jhansi, Lalitpur and Bareilley. Almost everyday, I have travelled more than a hundred kilometres often on the back of a motorcycle. Just an year back I had been in a land ravished by floods. Today I see around me scorched land that has been yearning for rains for the last three years. People have left their villages to cities in order to search for some form of livelihood. In those villages around Bundelkhand, I have stared at blank, expressionless faces, faces that made me cringe inside; faces that asked the simple question – what good is a hungry empowerment? There have been moments when I have wanted to run away from it all. I have sat and stared blankly into the wall when I could not take the abject dance of poverty, illiteracy and exploitation I have seen around me. Yet in the mornings, I have fought my way back to these villages just for the faint glimmer of hope that has never died down. I have realized that most of the people I know are basically cowards. I am perhaps the biggest coward of them all. We all have paid and continue to pay lip service to the realities just a few hundred kilometres from our safe havens.

My respect for the Government and the bureaucracy has increased tenfold. Yes, there are problems. We as a country are great at corrupting something that is good. But yet, the success of the aanganwadi, sarba sikhsha abhiyan and asha programs have started to change the way of life in the villages of India. One of the latest initiatives of the Government has been to keep aside a certain amount of money for every girl child for poor families which she will get when she becomes of marriageable age. In other words, the Government is agreeing to pay a part of the dowry. As disgusting as it may sound, I think this might just be the greatest initiative for saving the girl child and correcting the highly skewed gender ratio in India that is slowly leading to our own destruction.

I have met women who want to break free and yet are tied by gender bias that spreads across religions in Northern India. I have seen them control their urge to speak out their minds in front of the men. I have seen them huddled together in a corner waiting for us to specifically address a question to them. I have met women who still feel that they can contribute much better to their family by staying within the confines of their houses. I have met women who have confidently stepped out and with her sales acumen have put my two years of the best management education to shame. I have been cut short in the middle of my rather lengthy speech with shouts of “Ee lalla, e toh hume malum hain.” I have been surprised at the product knowledge and brand loyalty in the heart of the Cow Belt. I have seen the stubbornness in refusing to encourage healthier activities if it clashed with their beliefs. I have seen the assumptions we make about the Indian women broken and reformed with every conversation. I have been given the respect I do not deserve. I have met ladies who reminded me of my grandmas. Just like them, these ladies whom I were meeting for the first time did not want me to go away without eating at least a little Kadi-Chawal. I have made an innocent face and nodded in agreement when they have blasted my company for sending me out for work in the scorching heat. I have found care and concern from people with whom I had never met and perhaps will never meet again. I have had to forcibly take out the fan from a person’s hand who insisted that her work could wait but fanning a tired me could not.

I have seen an India divided on the lines of gender, religion, community and caste. I have seen people create barriers between themselves when none exist. And as I experience it everyday, I realize that at the root of every discrimination is economic and income disparity. I have seen the poverty cycle at work making the poor poorer and the rich a lot richer. I have seen a disillusioned India which has accepted her fate. I have seen an India that wants to leave and never come back. I have seen an India that wishes for the return of their sons and daughters but more than that wishes for their success.

Around 4 years back when NDA lost the Lok Sabha Elections despite the much hyped India Shining campaign, everyone had a different opinion. When Chadra Babu Naidu or S.M. Krishna lost the elections, everyone was surprised. But my experiences during my travels in villages around Pilani had told me to expect such results that would confound all the poll pundits. Every village in India today is more aware than ever before. Every single villager I have asked in supposedly one of the most backward states in India have been able to tell me the exact number of votes they have as a village. Never ever have I been happier with the grassroots democracy that has helped this crazy nation of ours to survive through every problem. And just to assure me again that the paradox called India will continue to amaze me, I have seen them allow a local politician stop our meeting and make an impromptu poll speech that they very well knew was of no use to them. This is the India that will send a dynasty back to power again and again, because of the loyalty they had for a matriarch ages ago. This is the India that will choose a proven goon if he is from their community or caste. This is also the India that will silently bring about a change that they feel is necessary for them. This is my India that even today thinks with her heart.

I have always respected the power of women. Even before the Aryans came, Indians worshipped the Mother Goddess and not without reason. The more I see the women in the villages of India; I realize that they are perhaps the sole reasons for the survival of our species. I have seen women keep the family together without even a little help from the men. I have seen her aggression when she has fought tooth and nail for her family. I have seen the steely determination when she quietly vowed to make her young son successful in life at all costs after her husband and her elder son passed away. I have seen Annapurna, the kind provider for everyone, I have seen the glimpses of Kali who will one day destroy every evil around her, I have seen Lakshmi saving every penny for the house, I have seen the dormant Sarawati who laments her lack of education but will not let the same happen to her children, I have seen Durga, the embodiment of Shakti – The Woman Power.

She's Always A Woman to Me

And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me

He thought he had enough of women for an entire lifetime. There was no way he could understand them, neither did he know any of his friends who did. Even the women he knew patted him affectionately after one more of his failed attempts at a relationship and say patronisingly, “You see you never should try to understand women. Just let her be herself and accept her as she is.” They were worried for him; all his friends were. He knew they really wanted to see him settle down and as they would often say, “be sensible” and yet there he was leading his life as he pleased without a care for the world around him.

As the elevator jolted to a stop he irritatedly moved aside to let the person behind him walk out. As he stood adjusting his suit, someone said, “14th floor please.” He turned around and like a movie running in a slow motion, his breath refused to come out of his lungs. Mechanically his thumb pressed the number 14 on the panel. He could feel his knees giving away. He knew the symptoms of the excruciating agony of love. It had been 10 years. His floor passed by and so did the 14th floor. The knees were strong again as he pushed the buttons to his floor. Yet, a pain (stronger than the weakness in his knees) stabbed at his heart.

She had not recognized him. 10 years - it had been enough for her.