Satsang – the art of keeping the right company

No we aren’t talking about sitting. Nor about singing for that matter. The word simply means the company of the highest truth (or good company).

While all spiritual masters have recommended keeping the right company (do check out shankaracharya’s bhajagobindam where he teaches us that satsang (good company) is the starting point for liberation itself), upon reflection it seems to me to be the essence of success in all endeavors.

Here’s a quick list I have accumulated over a decade of experience in the IT sector on traits we should watch out for in ourselves and our teams – they can cause untold damage to our pursuits (business, social or spiritual!) if we let unchecked.

”Yes men” for sure are to be avoided. They add zero value to a situation, but can make your ego grow big time – encouraging us to make mistakes we wouldn’t have otherwise committed. They usually only abound when the going’s good (and disappear during tough times!), so when things are good is when we need to watch out for them the most. And if we are ”yes men” ourselves, god help our teams and everyone around us!

The ”non-conformist” guys – these folks openly encourage flouting the spirit of rules (though they may adhere to the letter), principles and the lot – quoting ”ends justify the means”. They are usually very good at getting things done but relying on them can very easily pitch us into a culture of ”anything goes for success”. Invariably this makes the going stressful for their teams; and in the long run, work stops being fun. The good news is that these guys are committed – and so if you can get them to agree on what the ”rules of engagement” are, they can very quickly turn into ”stars”.If you adopt their methods of course, it’s many steps backward buddy!

The ”goody goody guys with a personal agenda”. These are guys who look very harmless, and are often considered very nice guys. The thing is ”the goodness often arises out of a weakness and not a strength”. So you might find him/ her strongly ”advocating empowerment” ( a very positive attitude) but on closer view you’ll find it translates to less accountability for him – or because she has a demanding personal interest (or another job!) leaving her less time (and focus) for your business goals! These guys are toughest to spot because of their percieved ”niceness” – but can cause maximum damage to the culture of the group itself. If such behavior is left unchecked, their attitude is likely to be adopted by their teams and slowly the entire team gets ineffectual. Weeding them out may require battling with feelings of guilt and other negative emotions (as they are loathe to discuss hard facts as a rule and prefer emotions instead); the sooner its done, the better though! And if we find ourselves to be the ”nice guy with an agenda”, it’s best to take some personal ”me time”, do some soul searching and find ourselves an ambition or value that inspires us to give our everything for. A second reading of Ayn Rand’s Fountainhead will also help (but we need make sure we follow Howard Roark and not Peter Keating!)

So who are the guys of truth?

Those folks you know exactly for what they are – would be the ideal ”truth guys”. They don’t have to agree with you necessarily – but should have the maturity to be able to “agree to disagree”. They also dont have to be folks with skyscraper IQs or experiences. They should however be as invested in the success of the organization and be willing to embrace the cause as much as you are. They should be able to point out any errors (to their supervisors, friends, colleagues and their teams) and be open to receiving feedback as well – so a more open and transparent culture gets formed. It is these guys who rock when times are tough or when a transformation is underway. You need these guys. And if you are ”one such individual” yourself, time to pat yourself on the back – you are well on your way to being part of a very positive movement…

This make sense? Am I missing another patterns?…

Buddha Pournima – celebrating the day of The Buddha

Today is a special day. It’s Buddha pournima – the night of prince Siddhartha’s metamorphosis into the Buddha (the awakened one). It’s a day of celebration – for a man who graduated with honours on a decidedly singular path and became a trailblazer for the millions who followed him.

Note that the Buddha Pournima is considered by many as the day of his enlightenment (today of course  its celebrated by many as “the day of the Buddha” which represents his birth, enlightenment and death all together \). How many people do we know are honoured for a happening in their lives?  I can only think of Christ, whose day of crucification is honoured as the day of deliverence around the world.

Celebrating an event in the life of a human being thousands of years later is indeed special.  If this is replicated on the material plane (as opposed to the spiritual plane)  –we would perhaps have an apple day (the day the mac was released), a burger day (the day the golden arches flipped their first burger) and a mass-motor day (when Ford released those black cars?)

Back to the holy Buddha pournima day – the moon saw an individual flower into something akin God this day 2500 years or so ago – and while I cannot present her an encore today –  I thought I’d share a few notes on a couple of books that honour the phenomenon called the Buddha, albeit in very non-traditional ways.

The first is the Buddha Manga in 8 volumes by Ozamu Tezuka. A Manga is a Japanese Comic book populated by whimsical characters. Ozamu notes the Wikipedia (running out of breath as it spells out the amazingly gifted man’s repertoire) was a Japanese cartoonist, manga artist, animator, producer, activist and medical doctor( although he never practiced medicine). And his Buddha has won multiple Eisner Awards (which are apparently the equivalent of the Comic Oscar awards).

The book is irreverent, hard-hitting and yet true to the story of this awesome man. And it’s edgy and fun. And the characters sport great hairstyles too. Take a look at some of the pictures – if you want fun and englightenment – (ok at least the fun, for now) – please take a look at this site and pick up a copy.

The second is an awesome interpretation of the “Heart Sutra” in a book titled “The Arrow to the Heart”. The Hearth Sutra is revered as one of Buddhism’s most authoritative titles. In fact, the spiritual essence of the Buddha’s Dhammapada  is available in all its glory in the miniature “Heart Sutra” (only …lines) per many Buddhists.

Ken McLeod’s interpretation (he calls it experiential) is very cool – you have poetry, prose and wisdom extraordinarily packaged. You’ll find inspirations from a very wide set of srouces – ranging from Buddhist monks, Lewis carrol (from her Alice in wonderland) and even rocker, Bob Dylan! The format leads you to some “ah” moments – and this says Ken is what he set out to do. There’s a kindle version (the one I purchased) available – so take a look and may be you will flower into a Buddha in time for the moon’s visit next year.

I’ll leave you with a very inspirational piece of writing from Sadhguru jaggi Vasudev on Buddha’s experience on that momentous full-moon night thousads of years ago where the world witnessed the awakening of the Buddha.

Cherish the friend with the alarm clock

I remember hearing this story:

A zen master had a neighbour who always critiqued everything the master did. While this got on the disciples’ nerves, the master himself smiled on hearing the criticism, contemplated it awhile and went on his way. One day, the neighbour died and much to their surprise, the master began crying. ”who will criticize me and make me look for improvement areas?” lamented he..

Why this story now?

Earlier in the week, a very close buddy (and colleague to boot) sent me a quick message. ”beware, I think you are getting into the fast culture too!”.

This was received when I was ”busy” making some plans for the future growth, analysing some of our losses and typically acting out the successful IT exec role.

This message though – it was a wake up call. Let me explain.

I have always thought ”crazy” (or if you are a Puritan ”big”). Switched roles that were considered relatively low on spotlight value, adapted practices from other industries and another time, learnt to pick up greatness tips from giants all over the world. But you’ll notice, he wasn’t talking about this. He was talking about ”fast”. ”Crazy” was ok – actually fun, ”fast” was a no-no.

Fast as in – rushing to work, rushing work, rushing life itself and then impatiently waiting for the harvest – usually some vague, large USD figure and a label of being a winner. And when the harvest came (if it did) you couldn’t enjoy it because you were ”busy” playing ”fast” somewhere else. This fast I had always abhorred – or so I thought, until my friend’s message arrived. I thought and thought some more – and he had been right – that had been a pretty ”fast” day:
- I had rushed from home, hadn’t said too many endearing byes,
- hadn’t enjoyed watching our very entertaining traffic on the drive to work, had actually got a bit frustrated
- the number of smiles that day was way below average, the number of frowns and raised brows was up
- most of my discussions ranged around those business numbers – why had they not resulted or why they had. Essentially was trying to put a logic around uncontrollables!
- not a single call to a friend with no objective but to crack a few jokes and make his or her day….
- very few appreciation emails sent
- transactional dealings and raised voices
- pulling a title (thank god, I drew the line here!)

Which led me to think about the ladder of fallso eloquently called out in lord Krishna’s opus ”the Bhagavad gita”. The idea is broadly this( a touch embellished, hey but I am not a scholar!):
- first we get a desire – either our own or one we acquire from seeing others (eg. Colleague got a 40% hike – so should work to get that too!)
- the desire makes us undertake actions and think thoughts that we wouldn’t have done otherwise (get angry on the team, eat into somebody’s else’s share, pull management strings!)
- if we don’t get the result we want, delusion sets in (man, this life sucks, are the bars open yet?!)
- delusion leads to anger – expressed (shoot the boss down man!) or repressed (so where did you say those beers were – got a load on my head!)
- these give rise to more negative emotions and over time make us forget the person we are and do something truly bizarre, stuff we’ll wish we hadn’t done (and i dont mean counting how much you can drink when really, really angry!).

The interesting thing is that over time bizarre becomes the new normal. If you don’t believe me, take a look at how the truly painful characters at work are at home. Don’t be surprised if they are very nice people indeed – when not at work. The thing is – the mad rush is on, and everybody at work is running at 500 miles an hour, so you can’t stop to smell the flowers.

We tell folks we’d run a while and then rest – but at 500 miles, you can’t stop and even if you do, you are too exhausted to bother about the flowers.

The buddha therefore advocated ”mindfulness” so you could catch yourself before fast became normal and go back to the land of ”cool” before it was too late. But most of us are not buddha’s (we are more like buddhus which is the opposite of the buddha nature!). And therefore you need a friend who plays alarm clock when you are going out of tune. And you can play the same thing for her too. But you need to be open to them, for they are few in the world and will pass you by if you are not attentive.

So does this mean, we shouldn’t set aggressive goals? How could krishna, a very successful king (and a damn good friend) not espouse greatness? Truth be told, he does. He makes a clear distinction between being fast (called desire-motivated-action by that Puritan again!) and being great at what you do – and maybe we should park that discussion for another day…

Friends, coworkers – and leadership

A while back on a lazy afternoon, me and a fellow team member were chatting and sipping tea. The discussion moved on to an acquaintance I hadn’t heard from in a while. I asked her how this acquaintance – her friend was.

She replied ”she was fine the last time I heard..and by the way, she’s a colleague not a friend”.

I think she said that part in jest, but my mind wanted to wrestle with the thought a lot more. And the more I thought through this, the more I realized she was right – we had colleagues and we had friends – and very few were indeed both.

Why was this so? While colleagues bonded over a shared interest (a common job or a common pet crib – like a bad boss!), friends were about shared welfares too – it was not just business but a lot more personal.

This insight took me back a few years back ( when my career was just beginning). The ”coach” addressing a batch of eager trainees asked if we had a best friend at work. I remember several hands went up (including mine) and the coach nodded in approval. He realized a key truth – having friends at work didn’t really bring down performance; on the contrary it made life more fulfilling, and the increased comfort motivated us to aim higher.

Flash forward to today – here I am leading a fairly large set of teams and I wonder if I have helped inculcate the friendship DNA recommended by my coach from so long back. Are our teams (and us) forced to work together or do they find pleasure in working together?

I walked around teams – small, medium and large. Teams where we had Bosses who (what else) bossed and teams where the leaders led. Teams which were located geographically together and those that were connected virtually. Teams that had different demographic mixes and those that were homogenous. And the more I saw, the more I recognized that leadership does have its part for the magic to happen.

This brings me to my second insight. You cannot force lasting comradeship anymore than you can make a person creative with a gun to the head. You can however help provide an environment where people can connect a lot more freely – and of course you can set an example yourself. Fun, growth, transparency, very accessible leadership, highly intelligent teams and a comfortable work environment (including ergonomic chairs!) seem to be ingredients that allow for friendships to blossom better.

So the next time you meet your team, please find if your team members feel they have a trusted and best friend at work. If they could invite just a few select friends to spend a weekend with, would any of their colleagues qualify? If the answer is yes, a chocolate ice cream treat would be in order. If not, time to take a hard look in the leadership mirror!!

Part 2 – A story of 5 breakfasts and a stroll in the park

And the second day dawned bright and sunny (or so it seemed from the hotel room window). I was ready in a jiffy and skipped down to the hotel restaurant eager to partake of their ”full English breakfast buffet” -advertised very prominently in their brochures.

As I waited to be seated, I looked around – the place was almost full – the hotel’s copy writer had struck gold. The waitress came over, smiled and asked me for my coupons.
”Coupons?”, I asked, not quite sure if I had heard her right.
”Yes, the coupons”, she answered in a Russian accent (or maybe Czechoslovakian or for that matter Ukrainian or..)
”Coupons??” I stammered again, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

She accepted fate had dealt her a flawed customer but she put on a brave face and showed me to my seat – reasoning perhaps that not all days are sunny and nice (I realized later as a hotel customer, these coupons would have entitled me to get a significant discount – but surely the hotel should have an easier way of doing this?!!).

Once seated, the multiple choice quiz started:
Brown or white bread?
Coffee or tea?
Latte or cappuccino?
Milk or cream….sugar? ….
I didn’t ask for my score but must have done OK as she didn’t look too rattled when we were done. And while we took a few moments to recover post this exhaustive round 1 questioning, I asked her about the English breakfast; her face beamed in approval and she launched into round two – this time questions to be answered in short sentences..
How would like your bacon?
How would you like your eggs made?
What garnishing would you prefer for the omelets?
How would you like your sausages?
And on and on until she found I had given up long ago. Being vegetarian, most of these were outside my palate, and I just would have to have a full English breakfast without the English bits today. While I accepted my fate with a shake of the head, she accepted her fate staunchly too. She may have got a coupon-less, low scoring and incapable (of sampling the varied fare) customer on a sunny day – but the waitresses here are made of strong stuff. I could hear her saying ”boy, do these customers flatter only to deceive!” in Russian – or probably Ukrainian or Yugoslavian – as she went to get me what turned out to be an awesome latte.

The rest of the buffet was actually quite good – and to work it out I decided to saunter in the Hyde park across the street. And man, was this a smart decision.

The Hyde park is just that – a park. It does not aim to be a private amusement park (with ticket collectors out front, numerous food courts and very amused owners counting their earnings) nor is it one of those elitist -looking places which require you to treat them as holy ground (or a history book!). It’s a very unassuming park, and most delightful at that. As I walked through its open iron gates, I couldn’t keep reflecting on the fact that iron gates and bars didn’t always mean restricted freedom, sometimes they were gateways to a different life altogether.

The first thing that hit me when I stepped in was the absolute lack of transactional commerce within its boundaries. People jogged, exercised (themselves and their dogs), made friends, read newspapers, observed wildlife and reflected on life (or whatever) – no one was buying or selling anything. Sitting back on one of the abundantly provided benches, I watched life go by and a sense of serenity prevailed.

This was life in a microcosm. Just ahead of me, a toddler was bravely trying to perfect her walking skills using a stroller, while her parents walked behind her – pushed her infant sibling in a pram and admiring her efforts. She stumbled, got back and tried again – and when she took a few yards without stumbling, she was greeted by applause from all – and we had a beaming kid bent on making sure she picked the right skills to go far in the world. There were dogs everywhere. There were those nature gifts with a woolen sweater at birth, the long pudgy ones with very small legs (or should I say the vodafone dog’s cousins?), little ones that looked like they were toys and struggled to keep up with their elderly mistresses and those that looked like ponies (the equivalent of hummers on the road). They dashed about unencumbered by leads, chasing butterflies and generally having a whale of a time. A young couple engrossed in each other’s company were oblivious to the surroundings and the weather (now turning cold fast), bringing back memories of their past golden years to a few of the seniors bundled in a few jumpers and actively sharing stories..all in all, this was life itself – in précis.

Cut to the beautiful fountain and a statue of a very thoughtful young man center stage. This was Jenner – the gentleman who discovered the polio vaccine but decided to let it go unpatented in order to make it more accessible for the poor. I didn’t have a hat on, or I would have doffed it to him – it’s such men that give us hope.

I was very intrigued to note that the benches were dedicated to numerous persons – one was dedicated to an artist, one to a boy who had died in his teens and many such more – all with messages definitely composed by loved ones and bearing heartfelt stories no doubt. This was one park that had character – in troves.

Winter had shorn the trees of their leaves and a part of a large tree trunk lay on the ground weathering away. Amidst the decaying branches, white, purple and yellow flowers were peeping up and blooming – as were new shrubs. Life’s transformation is best seen in our parks and forests and you somehow intuitively understand that death is but a comma for another life to begin. Fittingly, this tree was bang opposite the bench dedicated to the boy who had died young..

A little further, there was a statue of a little boy playing an instrument. He had a lot of strange creatures looking upto him – this seems to be the magical Peter pan. The magic was working, and the crowds were having a very busy time taking photos with him in their frames. And this made me happy – the tourists were here as well! No matter where you go on earth, you are likely to see two types of folks brandishing cameras. The first use point-and-click equipment and their aim is to capture moments that show they have been there. They are there one moment and gone the next leaving only a few bottles of coke behind. The second are the enthusiasts, they bring serious equipment and their attempt to capture pictures is part of wanting to be part of the scenery experience. They are generally well read (mostly very well read and very appreciative of the environment) and just seeing what they are capturing can get you to enjoy the experience a little more. I followed the folks with long lenses (and long hairs) accordingly and saw that they were zoomed in on some very elegant swans in the stream. I walked across to the benches by the water and sat down, watching the birds and ducks. A wonderful captioned board indicated the various species we could hope to spot, highlighting the plumage, eating patterns, migratory tendencies and so on. I sat mesmerized as I watched these waddle away, unmindful of all the people and happenings around; apparently just moving with the flow – almost zennish. A half hour later I walked back enjoying the drizzle from above and nature all around. Now more sensitive to her working, I spotted wondrous creations all around me – little flowers, multi-shaded leaves on the stray shrubs, squirrels squirreling and birds surveying the scenery from little wooden stumps. You can’t help feeling privileged when in such August company – but here’s the thing – you need to spend quality time to become one with her and start admiring nature – these are not like the amusement parks which use noise, loud colors and contraptions to pull you by force in their direction.

The next day, I had another two hours to kill. As I walked down to breakfast, I remembered I had forgotten my coupons once again and decided I would try a local cafe today. A few yards away stood a quaint little cafe – ”Sheila’s cafe”. It proudly advertised that they did not charge more to dine in (very interesting because in India, patrons are charged for takeaways instead. Maybe this reflects the higher cost of land in London (and hence dining in is priced higher) while in India, the rational for higher takeaway cost is simply the additional boxes and packing costs.

I saw a couple of customers coming our of Shiela’s cafe and they seemed contended, so in I went. The cafe was at the corner of a rundown building and had but two tables. I walked upto the hostess and we had the multiple quiz again. I ended up with beans on toast and a latte. Within a blink of an eye more customers turned up – this seemed a very famous jaunt. In 15 minutes I walked out thanking the hostess (maybe she was Sheila, I couldn’t find out as she was so very busy tending to the London population’s hunger) and having paid a very nominal amount (and without coupons!). I also had had some what I now recognized as English breakfast (beans, grilled tomatoes) so I was getting somewhere!

I spent some good time on the park again – this time walking random paths. It’s amazing what a good breakfast can do (without it I’d have probably retired to the room and taken another power nap!). And I agreed with yesterday’s observation – the park is certainly life in précis. You have seasons every day (evenings and mornings are busy – just like summer and spring are) and every week (weekends are more lively than the weekdays). You meet new people, who are fellow travelers on life – and you get the chance to focus on anything you want (you can sit and crib about how life is such a boner these days, grab a sneaker and get some blood pumping into the system or sit back and relax enjoying nature at her game). Either way, the park doesn’t care – but the people do – and if we do something worthy, maybe there will be a bench dedicated to you to inspire the generations to come.

Work took most of the next day – and I had to leave the day after very early. The hotel has an excellent concierge (it really is a very good business hotel) and I ended up in the Lufthansa lounge in the very early hours. Just outside the lounge was one of those massive massage chairs inviting us to partake of its services ( a 3 minute deep massage). 3 minutes? Couldn’t hurt – so I dropped in the required change, not realizing that the chair had been designed by someone like Stephen king (only he can make everyday objects like cars get supernatural). The chair took a few seconds to verify my coins were legal, rubbed it’s metallic hands in glee and got to work. It pounded, it kneaded, it pressed and stopped. Over already? That was but a pause, the kneading, pounding and pressing started again. Three minutes later I entered the lounge again, a fresh and hungry man thanks to the massage monster. I saw that this Lufthansa lounge had no doubts about it being morning (as its Chennai counterpart did) – and I helped myself to a wonderful breakfast of croissants, cereals and what not – and was on my way. That’s when I saw my friend the massage chair again – it seemed to be daring me to have another go – as did the Lufthansa flight which was already boarding. I looked hither and I looked thither – and I decided thither was higher priority. Three minutes later, a happy pounded me walked to the Lufthansa flight wished everyone a very good morning and boarded the flight – in the right mood to enjoy another long flight back home.

A story of 5 breakfasts and a stroll in the park…

Business beckoned again – this time to the United Kingdom. The travel gurus at my company used a very complicated algorithm to find me the least expensive “business class” route which would get me to London in time to attend a critical (or so they said) meeting. And the software declared that the most timely, lowest fare,plushest option from chennai to London was through Frankfurt! I suspect this software was developed/used by sub-prime selling financial Mughals in an earlier life- but I had my ticket and a prospective 5 days of fun, so off I went with a smile on my face (actually a yawn as I had been working long, long hours for a week) and a hastily prepared suitcase.

The chennai airport welcomed me with all it’s bustle and I picked “the best of Ruskin Bond” as my companion for the trip from the wonderful little (higginbothams, one of our oldest bookstore chains) airport shop. I was halfway through the first half of the book before getting my immigration cleared – all countries typically have long ( and often serpentine) queues for those aspiring to get into their shores; are we the only ones who make it very difficult to leave too? Incredible India indeed!

And so I found myself somewhere in the late night/ very early day in a much crowded airport lounge. I also discovered I was hungry – and so began the story of my many broken fasts. As I walked to the buffet table, I wondered if they would serve me dinner (like our roadside dhabbas did to appease the hungers of the trucker population) or breakfast (like the temple towns did to prepare the faithful for meeting with their lord). The answer it turned out was that it was like our Indian team – it had a bit of everything but nothing end-end. There was curd rice (definitely dinner), cornflakes (breakfast) and “all time” snacks (veg rolls and salads). I had a bit of everything and like the Indian team (they are becoming our role models huh!), slept my way through most of the journey. I woke to the aromatic smells of some nice crossients – and to my chagrin, found my spectacles missing! Being very tired the previous night, I had put them in a little sleeve and left them in my shirt (and not in the mag rack like I usually did) – and now the shirt was there, but the spectacles most definitely weren’t. I looked hither and I looked thither – trying to look inconspicuous all the while – I didn’t want guiness to crown me ”the first de-bespectacled person” on an airplane. But hither they were not, nor were they thither. I was worried – how do you organize a “spectacles” hunt on airplane without making a spectacle of yourself? This needed a fresh perspective – so I washed my face and downed a few coffees – no breakthrough resulted though. By this time, I had made a few of my fellow passengers a bit curious I am sure – they must have been wondering what I was doing peeking into the numerous cubicles (and believe me this flight had plenty). Deviously, I picked the flight magazine from the rack ahead of me and tried to appear nonchalant. And blow me down – the first thing I saw was a map of the spectacle holder provided on all seats – which required one to open the hand rest and navigate to the left most end and then feel around until you found it. Could it be there – no reason not to try. And lo, there it was. Grabbing the missing specs and placing them back where they belonged, I studied my neighbour’s face. It was inscrutable.And as far as I knew, my specs did not understand maps nor had locomotive power – so it must have been a kind stewardess – thank you mam..

The Frankfurt airport exuded efficiency as always. There were the 10 odd lcd screens each with 50 odd entries you had to look through to identify your flight from. This makes for excellent eye exercise, even better than searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack. Flight found, I trudged to the lounge, downed a coffee, read a few more interesting stories from Bond (this Bond unlike his namesake specialises not in gadgetry and vodkas, but in rustic locations and wholesome stories) and in an hour found myself on another flight bound for London. This flight had a business class section, but all the seats across all the aisles were the same (no acrobatic seats with spectacle holders on this one) – and the way they differentiated between classes was deceptively simple – for the business class sections, the middle seat was left empty and therefore the seat was priced 50% more – cool huh?

There was only one little problem – for some reason the flight wasn’t taking off. The captain demystified this for us in German and English shortly – there was some technical issue and we were to be grounded for at least 2 hours while they figured how to expedite things. An hour later, the captain had found a way to ease his wait – the crew had been here very long, so they were going off – a replacement crew was shortly coming in to take their place – while we continued to wait! And he was a nice man, this guy – he wished us a good day ahead!

The new crew came, and they were certainly nicer – for one thing they served us breakfast. I got my Asian vegetarian meal – which consisted of a bread product, some cut fruits and a special vegetarian dish. What this last dish was I could never ascertain – maybe I hadn’t been introduced to the species thus far, or it had vegetated so long, that it had lost its essence (kind of like asing when an apple loses its “appleness” what remains?) or something – but I just couldn’t say what it was. The cut fruits though were awesome – some kiwi fruit, strawberries, mango (yes mango!) -man, this was exotic stuff. You make me happy Lufthansa…

The flight landed at Heathrow a few hours late, but to good weather. I found myself a taxicab and was off to the hotel. These London taxicabs are really cool – they look like the ones Sherlock Holmes rode in, but are powered well, have all the latest gadgetry and tons of space. A perfect blend of tradition and technology these. As we drove through the homely yet strangely aloof streets, one couldn’t help feeling like a school boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar by his mother. A stern mother yes, but a mother all the same.

The taxi dropped me at the Corus Hotel – one of those white large hotels that cater to business travelers. They checked me in quickly and I found myself in one of those lifts which claims it can transport only take 13 people – leaving you to wonder how you could fit in 13 people into its very small interiors in the first place. Ruminating thus I walked to my room on the 9th floor, slipped in the card (electronic cards instead of keys are a giveaway that the hotel is a business hotel) and stood mesmerized. This was the smallest hotel room I had ever seen – but boy was it loaded. In a room that was perhaps a little bigger than the aforementioned lift placed sideways, the room had a bed, a tv, a kettle (and choices of green tea or decaffienated coffee), funky lights (about 10 of them!), a safe, a motorized iron stand and machine, a wardrobe, a full bath, a concave and convex mirror (presumably to help you make faces at yourself and pass the time of the day), two telephones and an excellent free wifi connection (I told you this was a business hotel).The only thing it didn’t have (but should have had) is a placard which said “great things come in the smallest packages,”. So began another précis travel…

To be continued…..

A meditation on Life’s tragedies

The last month hasn’t been one fraught with good news. Come to think of it, the news these days seldom is – but a lot of it is sensationalist stuff, so doesn’t really get you emotionally worked up most of the time.

Truth be told, statistics don’t reveal any significant peaks in the number of tragedies in the month past. The numbers were much the same – and infact India has just had a polio-free year  - so the numbers should be marginally better. Bad news however always affects you by the quality of the event and never the quantity – so the death of a loved one can affect you more than the 300 deaths due to a large scale aircraft crash. It’s not that we are insensitive to the latter, it’s just that we are a lot more sensitive to the former. And the past month saw tragedy played at several “personal” levels (tragedies to a near one and dear one, at the local neighborhood and the death of a star we looked up to), so perhaps the musing is a little more.

I recall our scriptures proclaiming that at our very root, we are most concerned about ourselves (essentially things that have to so something with “me” or things that are “mine”). The self takes on multiple identities – we identify ourselves with our body, our society, our nations, our tribes and our beliefs. This is why when any of these are hurt, we get hurt – we perceive it as an affront to our personal self (extended self maybe, but self neverthless). Eckart Tolle explains this at great length in the his new best seller (The New Earth) – and this is a great framework for seeing what hurts you and why.

Now, a look at the tragedies. The first was the news of death of an infant child of a dear one (actually another friend had also gone through a similar tragedy a couple of years earlier). A couple who are good and true had just had a loss they couldn’t account for. If you believed in a benevolent god, would he give you something precious only to request the favor back so early? And yet, if the event wasn’t attributed to a cosmic someone or something, where could we find solace and an entity to drown our sorrows in? The law of karma would state that it was the infant’s choice, that it was a very advanced “soul” in a little body and therefore had very little karma to work out and hence moved on -and with a lot of gratitude toward its family at that….. even if this true and a satisfying evolutionary explanation, would the parents not feel piqued that the God of justice had triumphed over one of compassion? Ramana Maharishi or some such elevated souls may have reacted differently to such events, for most of us it’s a hard cross to bear.

Closer to home (geographical proximity meaning an “extended physical self”?), we had a gang who specialized in bank heists shot dead. It was far enough (at least a couple of miles) for us to not have heard the so called “encounter” shooting, however the sheer thought that just a few miles away there had played out a strange drama of a heist and a few deaths, leaves a knot in the stomach and an uneasiness in the air. Such tragedy inspires fear and implicit acknowledgement that our neighborhoods are not so safe any more.

The third tragedy was the premature death of a singer – one I had never met – but whose songs have enthralled me for a long, long time. Whitney Houston succumbed to the usual “celebrity” story – excessive substance and alcohol abuse and a very turbulent life. With her death (and Michael Jackson’s in the not too distant past), a small chapter from my childhood somehow to have lost its reality – a cherished scene of the family talking away listening to these legends crooning their hits on radio and tv (specially during the grammy’s) has faded away…

So what next – for my friend and his family, I can and will provide a shoulder to lean on. And I have memories of togetherness that can be cherished. In the second case, there is no real “personal” loss – except that we will bolt the doors a little earlier (!) and advise kids against the twilight talks most of us used to enjoy on the very same streets. And Whitney’s and Michael’s records survive them (actually the only way I knew these legends in the first place) to entertain us.

The sadness therefore is not just from the loss itself, but in the understanding that there is a bit of us that has evaporated with these tragic incidents. We grieve for the part of us that shared a special moment with the person, place or event who suffered the loss – and is now lost as well. It is also an object lesson for us that life does not stand still – she “flows” and does not stop for anyone or anyplace. Let’s take a moment to stop, take a breath and whisper our gratitude to all the great souls who have come our way and appreciate all the events and places we are and have been fortunate to experience. This will make a difference – not perhaps to reality and it’s tragedies – but to our reaction to them and the memories that we are left with when a treasured phase passes us by. To know life is fleeting makes us all more present and caring. Prayers.

I follow Vadivelu..

…as a visitor to Dubai (not in the political world!). One of the blockbuster movies had him visiting Dubai on employment you will recall – I went for business reasons too – to attend an IT conference. His job duties of course were a nature’s calling (do checkout youtube sensation Wilbur sargunaraj’s hilarious tutorials including one on this speciality!), mine of course were to do with software and testing.

I flew Air India, our maharaja’s airline. A friend of mine often wonders why the crew of this great airline all look a touch old – “were they born this way, or do they work with the other airlines and then join the Maharaja upon retirement?” - he wonders. I don’t know the answer, the crew on my flight were certainly not senile, on the contrary they were pretty courteous, served good food and were very knowledgeable. They forgot to dim the cabin lights and the plane did seem a touch ancient – but I’ll take that over juvenile pilots with fake certificates anyday! AI, you have my vote.

On landing, the first thing that strikes you is the Dubai shopping experience. Where most airports encourage shopping, out here it’s a retail mall which also encourages air porting! Visa on arrival (more on that later), no emigration forms to fill in and more shops and festivals than you can find in an Indian Temple town imply your senses are in overdrive almost from the word go.

I was an outlier here however. My visa (informed a smart guy at Terminal 1 arrivals) was for some reason in Terminal 3 (so I had arrived but my visa hadn’t yet, so much for “visa on arrival”). Said he – “You can await for your sponsor to help out (meaning spend the night in the airport as it was already midnight) or find your way to Terminal 3, pick up the visa and trudge back again”. This I did, and spent a good 1.5 hrs – would have been more if a very helpful airport staff hadn’t helped me with navigation at every corner. Dubai airport – your gold and goods are easy to find – need more help with the airport navigation signposts though – especially for folks like me who are very bad at directions. Finally they gave me a visa, I gave them an eye scan – and walked through the green channel 3 hours after landing and found myself a smart taxicab (they all are).

The drive to the hotel was pleasant, the weather a revelation. It’s pretty windy out here in Dubai and wind cheaters are certainly a good idea. We drove into Media One, a prominent hotel in the Media City. The hotel staff were efficient and super friendly – as seem the norm here. I asked them if I could get some good coffee, and they said “yep, and free wifi and a minibar and an awesome bath tub”. Awesome bathtub?

The hotel is indeed exquisitely designed – reminded me of the designs I had been awed by during a visit to the Nordics (I think it’s called minimalist or something). Beiges were used to great effect, light sensors ensured where I went there light “dawned” (and made me feel like a messiah) and the bath tub (there we go again!) – man did they engineer this one. It has a very soft leather headrest (you can wallow in hot water for hours here reading a good book), the tap is one of those you’ll need to use sleuthing skills to find but does its job wonderfully. Somehow, in the space equivalent of an average city apartment living room, they had fitted in a double bed, full bath, enough wardrobes to accommodate a Bollywood film’s requirements, a flat tv, lots of mirrors, a desk, two lounge chairs, a tea table…and a breath taking view. Not to forget that bathtub…

An mid afternoon stroll through the streets revealed people dining on streetside tables – many enjoying a post lunch smoke (often pulling on colorful hookas). Shaded eat outs, a very cosmopolitan crowd, the many serene and proud Arabian landlords – the city does look contented and prosperous.

The conference was at one of the Jumeriah properties, a property that looked authenticly steeped in the local culture. Treading on the lush carpets, one half expected to be meeting Shah Jahan or Akbar in the lunch room. And when you least expected it, modernity hit you – escalators, state of the art speakers and aesthetic lighting are all weaved in seamlessly – so you can ejoy the ambience with all the comforts of a modern business traveller. A great setting for a great conference meet.

The way back to the airport saw us cruising past skyscrapers and then some more. The ones you’ll see in Dubai will certainly rival any in Manhattan. For those not convinced, please note that Burj Khaleefa is the tallest building in the world (though you can only do calisthenics on it if you happen to be named Tom Cruise). We had a quick peek at a few more biggies – the Dubai Mall (the website states its the world’s largest shopping and entertainment destination) and the largest dancing fountain (the fountain dances to a haunting tune making you philsophically wonder which one was adapted to which – did the music or the dance come first?). One thing that’s sure to leave you dazed is the way modernity and tradition intertwine here – you have a Mughal hotel resting comfortably amdist European looking neighbours, desert winds coexisting with manicured lawns, local costumes with hummers….

And then we drove back to the airport. Rushed through passport control (you will be treated like royalty if you have the right tickets in this country!) and back into the shopping mall that also airports. Good food (thanks Maharaba lounge!) and a few “shopping for dates” sessions later, trudged back to the boarding gate. History followed I had arrived, my plane hadnt – Air India as always was dependably late. There was a saving grace – the flight was running half empty so got some royal treatment (And I mean of the good kind here) and reached home with the dawn – and settled down to some good filter coffee and some soothing south indian political news from our stiff-collared newspaper “The Hindu”. And no, I do not follow anyone (including vadivelu on the political front!….)

The 62nd Indian Republic Day in 6.2(and a bonus) paragraphs

Had to write something today. It’s been a while since I blogged – not sure if it was because I had nothing to share, or because there was so much happening that there wasn’t enough time to pen it down. The answer I suspect is somewhere in the middle, with the result of some stoic silence on my part.

Anyways, we woke upto our 62nd republic day – amidst great color, sunny weather (at least for those of us in chennai) and 400 pr so very eager television channels eager to show us their wares. So we’ll talk movies on television first – the day belonged to Slyvester Stallone – yes him of the bulging biceps and very few words. We had 3 editions of Rambo and 1 of Rocky (each shown zillion times as channels are wont to do). We also had a showing of Jim Carrey’s corny (sorry pet) detective, a serving of arnold’s terminator series and if we searched hard enough Ben Kingsley’s Gandhi. If we were to believe the movies India today in a nutshell is this – all muscles and mayhem with a very little sprinkling of peace (if you happen to be the sort who looks hard enough!). Not very encouraging, so we’ll use our Ancient Scripture Veda’s classification of riches to be sought after (dharma,arta, Kama, moksha) – maybe we can get some better stories than we did from the movies?

Dharma (conduct, righteousness whatever..) – we came out poorly on the “Corruption perception index”  ( 95 out of 180 odd countries or so) and some studies apparently report over 50% of us have encountered/ experienced some form of corruption.  We could debate the numbers – but does look alarming! Not to fear though -  we have a popular octogenarian crusader taking up the battle with political and governement machinery. We also have some wonderful movements focused on eradicating this poison – and the youth is gearing up to support them in earnest. We are waking up…

Arta (wealth) – our rich guys had a poor year at the office according to (who else?) the wall street journal. And 40%+ of our people are still very poor. But we are getting better – and are one of the fastest growing and among the large economies.  Of course, if you happen to be in the top 40 pr the bottom 40%, you may find this a touch hard to believe…

Kama – subject and object of desires  – we got the ipad2 early. And the Samsung tab. The xuv 500 arrived in style and was sold out in a hurry. The Tatas went global with nano and brought home the jlr products. We win fashion contests (alas not so much test cricket!). Our movies are getting bigger and our stars more famous and wealthy. The biggie retailers have setup shop and the international pizza and burger shops rush to offer us paneer pizzas and aloo tikoo buns on our streets. We desiredmore, and we get more things to desire – on kama – we scored high!

Moksha – liberation – temples continued to draw us in and the 100 or so festivals were celebrated with gusto (of course incorporating noise pollution, water pollution and global warming reduction principles too!). Our wise sages (wearing jeans and saffron robes) are everywhere – we can hear of God on twitter, facebook and of course in their ashrams. Satya sai baba, a beloved sage of millions left for the heavenly abode last year, leaving behind a legacy of social service, spiritual instruction and a very devoted following. Spirituality 2.0 is alive and kicking, will you join the movement?!!

That’s 6 + 1 paras for you..here’s the .2 – thanks India and fellow Indians for the excitement and growth, let us look forward to a decade of success and close with an inspiring q&a with Dr Abdul Kalam..

Happy Pongal….

A festival just for saying thanks to the sun. The sun which nourishes our earth, gives us warmth, stimulates growth and allows us to see and experience life. And expects nothing in return.

How beautiful. A festival of gratitude. Celebrated all over India – the harvest festival is a time of hope, joy and gratitude from a bountiful harvest. It’s celebrated to hail the dawn of a period of light and the end of winter and darkness (longer days as the sun traverses through the northern hemisphere…).

The ancients had it planned thus:
Day 1 – rid yourself of the old and unwanted, declutter your home and paint it afresh and get ready for a wonderful spring
Day 2 – Offer gratitude to the sun and the gods for their benevolence over the year. Cook some newly harvested rice in a pot – let it bubble and overflow – and wish the world a similar year overflowing with the good things
Day 3 – take care of things that made the harvest and a great year possible – cows, (or tracters or cars today!)…whatever. Honor them and thank them for their Contribution.
Day 4 – take the family out on a picnic and let your hair down. Celebrate your achievements.

The framework sound good? It celebrates all that is crucial to our wellbeing – the gods, our tools and work, our family and ourselves.

In the spirit of the ancients, let us offer thanks to – our coworkers, family and friends, the earth and sun – and pat ourselves for having seen through another year – and hopefully with a lot of learnings and success. And let’s raise a toast to the year ahead and wish for light (internal and external) to descend upon us through the grace of our most ancient god – The Sun..