197. Mediation

It is good to know that people are concerned about other people
However, an uninvited concern is irritating.
For last few days, suddenly from nowhere else, I started getting messages from an organization which cares for people's spiritual enlightenment. At least that is what they claim.

I ignored first few mails in the hope that if I did not respond, they would be discouraged enough.
But the messages kept on coming. About Rajyoga Mediation and all that.
It always had the boasting last liine: We are at 140 countries with more than 9000 Meditation centre's since 1937 

I wrote to them requesting "not to send such mails."
No effect.
Then after few days I wrote, "Kindly stop sending these mails to me. Note that you are invading my privacy."

This was a clear message to any person in right mind.
But no, not to this organization! They wrote back:


Om Shanti Divine Soul, 

Our aim is not to disturb your privacy of life, we just want to inform you about Godly meditation which is need for very human being to maintain balance of life. crores of family's are enjoying this, this meditation is like to recharge your soul. GOD BLESS YOU.

I wonder what makes these people think that I need a mediation. 

And what makes them to think that they are eligible to mediate between me and God!

 By the way, what is your guess? Which organization is this? :-)

186. Exhibition

A call from an unknown number. I cannot have the luxury of not answering calls from unlisted numbers. In a way, this phone is for public purpose, I keep on receiving calls from 'unlisted numbers'.

"Good Morning," there is a woman, from Delhi. She tells me her name and adds, "Mr. X has asked me to contact you." I know Mr X for many years. He is associated with one organization who does a bit of social work. I don't really appreciate what his organization does but I appreciate the commitment and dedication  of Mr. X.. So if someone approaches me through the thread of Mr. X, I generally offer whatever help I can.

"Good Morning. What do you need me to do?" I ask directly.
"Mr. X has told me that you have a lot of information," the woman says vaguely.
Now I have crossed that phase when one feels happy at the praise showered by strangers. That woman may not know it.
"What information do you want?" I ask again.
"Women," is the answer.

Now 'information on or about women' is a broad theme. Until this women tells me what exactly she wants, I won't be able to help her.
"Which women? On what theme?" I try to steer the conversation.
"Oh! Obviously Indian women! Any theme that you want," the woman speaks calmly.

I am bit irritated with the vagueness of the dialogue. However, because of the reference of Mr. X, I am not in a position to end it immediately.

After spending another few minutes what I realize is this: the organization with which this woman is associated (the same organization where Mr. X is also involved) is planning an exhibition on Ancient Indian History. They need some help from me in this regard.

"Have you listed some names?" I ask.
"Well, we have your name ..." the woman seems to have a good sense of humor.
"I am talking about historical names. If I know what kind of preparation you have, I will be able to help you better." I say politely.
"Sorry, I did not have enough time. Whatever you want, can be done. No problem." the woman says, again with the same calmness.

I smile. There won't be any problem, because they have not given any thought to exhibition. Anyway, I can always provide them few names.

The exhibition is in Delhi, so the write-up needs to be in Hindi.
I ask, "If I give you information in English, do you have someone who can translate it in Hindi?" I expect affirmative answer.
"No, we don't have any person who can translate. Why don't you give us information in Hindi? You are based in Delhi, so you also should be able to write Hindi..." that is undesirable. .

I decide to leave the matter for some time. I can always discuss these details with Mr. X.
"You are going to have posters ..." I am thinking aloud.
"Probably..." the woman says.
"Who is going to do the sketches? Or you will be using photographs? What would be the size of the posters? There cannot be too much of matter on posters, so we have to choose the information thoughtfully ...." my train of thought is going fast.
"Don't you have drawings, sketches or photographs?" the woman asks me in a tone of disbelief.

"No," I reply. Even though this woman has given me reference of Mr. X, now I am reaching the limits of patience.
"Then what will we do?" she asks.
Who is planning the exhibition? I wonder.

"You decide and tell me," I say little curtly.
"There is no time for decisions and discussions," the woman is also irritated now.
Curiosity overtakes my irritation and anger. Here is a woman whose organization wants to plan an exhibition; she does not know anything about the topic; she calls me for help and trying to order me; she does not know me and still she is getting irritated with me for no reason. I note to tell Mr. X that he should not provide my mobile number to any Rama, Seeta and Laxman.

"Yes, time is always short for such tasks," I try to understand her position.
With enthusiasm (which is my habit!) I add, "Kindly discuss with your team about all these points. Then we can sit together and work out. Don't worry, everything would be fine," I try to assure her.

"Can you come to my place today evening?" she asks.
"Sorry, I am out of Delhi for a week. Maybe....". I say.
The woman does not allow me to complete the sentence. "You are of no use then.." she announces.
"What do you mean?" I control myself but still can't help asking the question.

"The exhibition is planned on this Saturday-Sunday." the woman tells me.
"Sorry, I can't help you and best wishes to you..." I say and cut off the phone.

Exhibition!!
Exhibition, of what?

Exhibition that I work for a voluntary organization? Exhibition of my interests in History and Culture? Exhibition of our attitude to take everything casually? Exhibition of 'right to expect from others'?

Exhibition of many such aspects of how human beings think, and how they work!!
**

181. Categories

When I am getting out of Delhi Metro Station(s), I am interested in observing people's choice(s).

There are three choices - to take a lift, an escalator or staircase. Obviously, this is before or after Metro travel!

It is understood that those people who are either ill, very old or having luggage should use the lift. 

Rest of the commuters have two options - staircase and escalator. Most of the Metro Stations do not have the facility of escalators for climbing down - they are only for climbing up. So, I am mainly discussing the tendencies exhibited during Upward Mobility! 

Every time I see some people rushing to lift. Even for climbing down they want to use the lift. They are not always old or ill or do not carry luggage. However, they are obsessed with 'saving time' and always want to take the fastest route. I put these people in category one. Sometimes I wonder whether these people know only one way of living, I doubt whether they are flexible and I wonder how they would respond to life without electricity. 

There are some people who would always take staircase. " Use Stairs to Stay Fit" declares Delhi Metro. Some people do take this opportunity to exercise a bit and stay fit. They are least affected physically as well as psychologically, when the escalator is not working. They are determined and they carry on with their mission without bothering about the external situation. I am not sure how many staircases they climb up every day. These are category two people for me. They are health conscious and certainly they can adjust to the situation in a much better way than the category one people. But in a way, they are like category one people! They also have a fixed way of thinking - only staircase!! 

The third category of people always try to use escalators. They are kind of people who use technology (or luxury) when available. But if the escalator is not working, they would calmly climb up the staircase. They would say : alright, once in a while it is good.  These people have choices and initially they try to make easy choices. However, if easy choice is not available, they do not mind the hard way. They could be easily mixed into category one and category two - it is hard to identify at a glance.

Fourth category is more spontaneous. Depending on their mood or situation, they decide what to choose. Sometimes they would just run on the staircase and some other time they would lazily wait for the lift. They don't have any fixed route - they enjoy the variety and for them the variety comes from within.  I am a regular Metro traveler for two years and know some of the faces who sometimes take escalator and sometimes staircase. I like their unpredictable ways of choosing options. Wherever they go, I am sure these people would always create fun for themselves - by being flexible.

And I know there are many more categories.

One category who observes, thinks, shares.
Another category who never bothers.
Another one who does not like being categorized like this.

We belong to either of these categories - maybe we are in different categories for different things in life. But certainly our behaviors create pattern giving glimpses into inner mind.
Of course, sometimes we could be fooled , we could be completely wrong.
However, the process of categorization keeps on happening.
With knowledge or without knowledge.

How much of it is conditioning and how much of it is choice?
I do not know. 

163. World of JH

Oscar is a socialite. He likes to attend various social meetings in the town.

When the door is left open, Hamish runs away from the surgery and sits patiently waiting after reaching home.

Judy the nurse, dutifully watches everyone. She is always there to attend the ill.

Gertrude gulps two gallons of beer.

Bobby is a picture of massive muscle power.

Skipper is stunned by the death of Jingo and almost gives up his life too, only to be revived by presence of another young one in the family.

She is hiding her new-born baby.

What am I talking about?

Last few days, after reaching home from, I did not do anything but spent my time with those whom I have mentioned above.  

It does not matter that Oscar is a cat, which was found by a girl and brought to surgery.

I forget that Hamish is a Dog of a retired school teacher.

I have not mentioned that Judy is Eric Abbot’s sheepdog taking care of ill bullock and small chickens.

Gertrude is sow who has is just not allowing her newly born baby’s to come near her. The baby’s would die if it the mother continues to behave so.

Bobby is a splendid horse belonging to Mr. Mount.

Skipper and Jingo are two dogs.

There are not only cats, dogs, cows, horses, pigs.

There are interesting human beings as well.

Who would forget Tristan’s pranks? And his brother Siegfried?

The benevolent Mr. Barge with his Soothitt; Mr. Hollin the farmer with traditional wisdom; Mr. Mount with probing grey eyes; the overconfident Mr. Seth Pilling who had to eat his words; Mrs. Ridge who was happy even when her car was stolen because her dog Joshua barked at the thief; how lonely James feel along with number 87 of Mr. Blackburn; Paul Cotterell who appears so strong and James thinks that nothing touches Paul deeply.. how he commits suicide after his dog Theo had to be put to rest;    how blindness of dog Digger helps Andrew to come out of the dark phase of life…

There are stories after stories. Enchanting stories of the world of Darrowby .. World of Yorkshire.

As seen by James Herriot.

162. Confusion

I had two interesting conversations today.

In the office early morning, the peon brought me a cup of tea.

 I smiled. Generally he smiles and moves away.

But today he did not move. He is a young lad – maybe in his 20s. He works on daily wages here. Not much of education and being on his first job, he does not have much exposure.

I realized that he was standing there. So, I asked him, “You want anything?”

“Madamjee, can you give me a suit?” he asked.

I was baffled.

“Suit?” I asked. “What do you mean?”

“A set of your old clothes”, he explained nervously.

I was still confused.  It took time for me to understand what he was saying. But why did he need it?

Then I asked, “Do you have a young sister?”

“Yes”, he was happy that finally I had been wise enough.

He needed one set of my used clothes for his sister.

I said, “I will give it to you tomorrow.”

He smiled and went away.

**

In the evening I went to see a very senior government official. After 35 years of service he retired today.  We sometimes used to chat and many times I had asked him to write memoirs 'after retirement'. Our relationship is not ‘boss –subordinate’ type; but of mutual respect.

There were many people in his room. He was obviously busy. But still he smiled and said “Hello” to me.

I sat on one of the chairs and enjoyed the conversation regarding his financial arrangements.

I wished him happy retired life. However,  I knew he was taking on another assignment – a high profile one.

I asked, “Where are you going, Sir?”

He was confused. He looked at me and then looked at his watch. It was almost 6.30 in the evening.

Then he smiled and said, “I am going home.”

Now it was my turn to be confused. I clarified, “No Sir, I mean which job you will be taking now?”

“Oh, that is what you are asking!”  He laughed and told me.

**

Two conversations.

With two different human beings.

With difference in age, education, experience, social status ….

I have different relationships with these two – though I claim those to be egalitarian; the understanding of the term is different for both these persons.

But confusion was common.

Why?

Is confusion integral part of  me? Does it reside within ME? 

Do I tend to use words without touching its depth? Do I use words superficially?

Is it better to be silent than to speak or write constantly?

Somehow, I feel that silence always (almost always) creates more confusion especially when the topic is very trivial. Better to speak out even when I need to clarify …

In critical matters, words create more confusion – there silence works better.

But how do I decide what is trivial and what is critical?

The confusion remains. 

152. Wrong Corner

Very rarely we agreed, and it was one of those occasions.

By ‘we’ I mean me and my organization. We always had different perspectives and hence different priorities. What I thought most important was neglected by my organization and what my organization thought of prime importance was almost always very insignificant to me.

Still we co-existed and did rather well together – I have never understood the mystery of why and how.

The organization was celebrating its 40^th year of consistent existence. There was a gala function arranged. Employees coming from all the corners of the country were engrossed in thematic review, sharing experiences, documenting learning, strategic planning etc.


The agreement I had talked about earlier was: Gender Integration is an important topic to be discussed in this historic meeting. 

Somehow the responsibility of discussing Gender Integration came to me. I was not very high up on the ladder – for obvious reasons – but still I was given the responsibility. Maybe there were two reasons, there was no one else who had enough experience of working on this theme with strong field perspective and I was the self-declared champion for the cause. It was kind of TINA situation – There Is No Alternative. So, I was there – chosen one!

Boss A told me to prepare a power point presentation. I asked him about the objective of the presentation. He was clueless – as all Bosses are. He said, “B has suggested your name. Maybe you should talk to him.” Naturally, B was A’s boss.

I spoke to B. First of all, B did not understand what I was asking. Secondly, he did not remember. Third, he was not ready to take any responsibility of such a sensitive topic.  B politely requested me (he was always polite with me), “Why don’t you discuss with C?”

Yes, you go it right. C was B’s boss.

C was out of town. I called. He diplomatically said, “Ah! You are the expert on the topic. You know everything about it. Why do you want to test me?” Then he added, “You know the best, so go ahead with whatever you feel would be right for the occasion.” C had always given me such freedom – he knew that when left free, I gave my best.

Taking into consideration the importance of the event I prepared a power point presentation. I prepared well giving a lot of thought on what to include, what to emphasize and what to exclude. I took pains to elaborate basic concepts, evolution of the theme in the organization (historical journey), milestones, strengths, challenges, possible areas of integration, programmatic and structural actions required, desired changes at personal, institutional and methodological levels etc. I had ample examples from the field and knowing the audience I had kept the language very simple - avoiding technical terms as far as possible. Instead of focusing on weaknesses, I also focused on strengths – kind of ‘we can do it’ message – which was right for the occasion.

I was aiming to reach out to my colleagues working in remote corners of the country, who were actually spending more time with communities than in meetings. I knew that if I could sensitize them; if I could appeal to them; if I could motivate them - half of my work would be done. Dignitaries including senior officials and board of trustee members were present but they were not my target audience. I had interacted with them earlier too on different platforms. I knew them well enough and was aware that they won’t be affected by my speech. Institutional Change many times comes from bottom up – building from below is the right strategy. Especially, when building from top is more challenging.

As most of my colleagues were more comfortable with Hindi rather than English – I had my slides in English but I spoke in Hindi. I spoke for about half an hour. When it was over, everybody clapped. People appreciated. Some came near me and congratulated. Some patted. Some said, “We knew you would do well” .. ……. .. So many responses.

One of my colleagues, whom I did not know so well, came to me. A group of four to five people joined him on the way. Another group joined. It was as if a crowd was attacking me from all sides. They came from different corners.

One very senior colleague said, “Your speech was excellent.”

I politely said “Thank You” – feeling happy that I have at last reached their heart.

“A real good speech”, added another. Many nodded.

When appreciation pours in, I always know there is some problem. I was waiting to have debate at any moment.

“You know what I liked most about your speech?” another one.

How could I know? I smiled.

“You delivered the speech in perfect Hindi. You never spoke a single English word. That was so beautiful. You have such a command on Hindi – I never knew……”

And they all started praising me for my language skills. 

I was completely baffled.  I did not know whether to be happy for this unexpected impact or to be sad for having failed in generating expected results.

I had reached no doubt but reached at a wrong corner. 

34. Nonplused!

One routine evening, in the crowded street of the city. I was traveling back home with couple of colleagues after a hectic day. On the way, we were to drop one of the guests. He had to catch flight to Paris from Mumbai. We were to drop him at the private taxi service, which was to take him to International Airport in Mumbai.

After bit confusion about the exact location and finding out way from 'no entry' 'u turn' 'no parking' etc. we reached the spot. We were before time, so bit relaxed. After completing the formalities – registering with the office of the travel company, taking receipt, putting the baggage in the taxi….. I was having some informal chat with the guest. He was an expert in 'Animal breeding', but as I am not livestock expert the talk turned to summer in France, effects of Global Warming and all that.

Suddenly a woman of about 35 appeared on the scene. She was about five feet tall, brownish exhausted face and little anemic. Her eyes were bright and she was wearing a clean green sari with white design, with the pallu covering her head. The guest, a tall man with smiling and calm face took out a ten rupee note from his valet and gave it to the lady. I was bit embarrassed. Not that I do not come across beggars, but at this moment I did not like it.
I smiled at the woman and said in a mild tone, "You should not beg for money."
She was all smiles with the reward and told me into a confidential tone, "All foreigners are good hearted people. They give us a good amount. Sometimes they even give us fifty rupees. They are very good."

I told, "But he is our guest. I understand that you are poor, but why ask to outsiders? He may go with the impressions that Indian people are beggars."

The woman was hardly listening to me. She asked, "Is he your employee'?
"No" I told, a bit surprised at her statement.
"Then are you his employee?" was her next question.
"No, no, he is our guest." I explained. There was no need to have such detailed conversation with her. But I always like to converse with strangers.

"Is his county very rich? Does he have a bungalow? Does he own a car? Does his house have a garden? Has he a big Television in his house?"….the lady was not at all willing to stop. I was surprised at her curiosity. She was asking all these questions not for gaining more money from him, but she was just interested in that unknown guest. I thought that in the name of social science and development research, if we can take interest in other's lives, why can't this lady?

I was smiling at myself. But honestly I could answer none of her questions. To safely come out of the situation without hurting her, I said, "Ok, now he has to go."

"Which country he is from?" the woman had lot of patience.
(I am sure, if the lady could write a blog, she would write how foolish and useless I was….May be, she has already narrated this incident to her friends and family.)
"France", I told.
"How far is it?" she again asked.
"Very far away." I said.
"But exactly where"? The woman might become a good police, I thought.
"Near England" I must have been in my elements to give such a foolish answer. Because her next question was, "Where is England?"
"Oh, it is very far away." I tried to explain.
"Why don't you tell me how far his home is?" the lady was getting angry at me.

I explained, "Now he will go to Mumbai, catch a flight and after eight nine hours will reach home"

"Oh! Just eight hours….. and you are telling me he stays far away" the woman dismissed me. "I have to travel for 15-16 hours to reach my home, he will travel less and you are telling me that he is coming from far away land"

The lady was genuinely disappointed with the information and I was completely nonplused by the turn of our conversation.

14. Living With MFJ......

To tell you one more truth, I never like MFJ …
Oh! Oh! Sorry for this acronym. By MFJ I mean Mixed Fruit Jam.

I have been a hosteller during college days, then passed through a long phase of being ‘paying guest’ and even some time as a 'non-paying guest' (my friends always welcomed my stay with them) …… but it was always someone else’s home. So whenever I had to go on treks, picnics, and travels the easiest thing to carry with was bread and jam. Butter was not available easily (because I like only Amul butter!!) and it melts so packing was always a problem.

Luckily in every group, there are always people who like MFJ with Bread. I gladly exchanged my food with them – it was a two fold benefit. I was able to get away with my MFJ and in exchange I always could get good, testy food. In addition, sometimes I earned goodwill of MFJ fans.

I never have purchased a bottle or a sachet of any kind of jam. The canteen people at my workplace have the habit of preparing jam-butter-bread pieces. On one piece of bread they spread jam and on the other piece butter and they serve the two pieces together. Whenever I have a breakfast at the canteen, I remove all jam pieces and eat only bread with butter. I avoid jam in all food items, at all places and at all times.

Life was going on well without this ‘jam’ until very recently. In October, I received a gift of MFJ bottle from one of my colleagues who facilitates ‘Food Processing’ activities in tribal area. I just did not know what do with bottle full of MFJ. One of my friends suggested that I give away this bottle to someone who has MFJ fixation.

But I have a very typical psychology regarding gifts. Whatever is given to me, whether I like it or not, I use it as I appreciate the feelings of the persons who have given it to me. Any Tom, Dick and Harry does not throw gifts at you, there is an ‘invisible’ value to the gift one receives. The gift is meant for me, and so whether I like it or not, I use it till it lasts. In this way I have worn clothes of certain colors that I do not like, I have read books which were boring, I have used luxury items which I never needed and so on.

I spent lot of time on planning strategies for dealing with the MFJ bottle. Then I put it away and forgot it.

But alas, the disaster has not ended. Today, one of my friends presented me one more (and bigger too!) MFJ bottle. I was trying to tell him that I do not like MFJ and I already have one unopened bottle hidden somewhere in the kitchen. But it did not work. Now I have two brand new MFJ bottles, which is scary.

Ok.

Any ideas on jam recipes? Do anyone make jam paratha or jam chutney? Any wild idea would help me. Why don’t you just drop in to my place? Entry restricted to MFJ fans only. You can stay with me as long as MFJ lasts. If you are not MFJ eater, don’t come at this time. I might be tempted to put all MFJ in your plate. If you can help a bit, do come. I am looking forward to rescue.

*

11. Wake Up Call

Getting up early has been a chronic problem for me. When I was at Kanyakumari, getting up at 4.30 in the morning was a BIG challenge – as generally that was the time I went to bed. Everyday I had to struggle to wake up early and sleep early. My biological clock works just the opposite – I am fresh at 2.00 in the morning and would love to be in the bed until 12.00 noon. Outwardly I was like a Sthitpradnya - when the world sleeps the Sthitpradnya is awake and when the world is awake, Sthitpradnya sleeps. … ‘’ya nisha sarva bhutanam, tasyam jagarti samyami, yasyam jagrati bhutani, sa nisha pashyato munehe’’…. ……. My Kanyakumari days took away that highly attained state from my life!!

On special days – I used to call it ‘Rock’ days – Oh! Nothing to do with Rock music and dance. On special days - they were called auspicious days and this word was used quite often at Kanyakumari – we used to visit Vivekananda Rock Memorial (Rock) very early in the morning. Ah! I still can feel the cool breeze, the beautiful smiling statue of Goddess Kanyakumari, the all encompassing blue sea-sky oneness, the music of rising waves, the calmness surrounding the world, the meditation hall ‘in’ the Rock … and of course the rousing statue of Vivekananda. On these occasions, I always thought that I was a special child of God …. I am sure each one of us thought so, and the next generation still feels so….. I was always excited to visit Rock early in the morning. It was different, it was very very special. I won’t mind another life as a human being to have those blissful moments!

Even today, if I have to do something ‘different’ – for example visiting a field area, climbing a mountain, watching birds, traveling, conducting a training, reading a book, searching a site on internet, writing a document, calling friends …. I wake up early without any ‘alarms’. I have only twice missed a train – once because I was enjoying dance of a peacock in Peshawe Park and second time because I was reading a book…. I do not need any alarms if I have to wake up early on such exciting days. But if there is nothing specific for the day, I feel sleepy and hungry and tired.

To wake up on time on any normal routine day, I need a wake up call. Since my mobile days, I am using mobile for wake up calls. Funnily enough, I have three different wake up calls set up in the mobile. My first wake up call is at 6.30. Except in winters, I open up all windows and doors at this time, and sleep again. The next wake up call is at 7.00. Generally I come out of bed and start doing routine work. If I have slept before 2.00 in the morning, I am fully ‘awakened’, otherwise I go to bed again at 8.00 – then wake up at 8.45, exercise for half an hour and then rush to office….

You see, here is a problem. For things extra-ordinary, I have enough enthusiasm and energy. However, for ordinary life, for routine work, I need wake up calls.

Unfortunately, most of the life is spent in ordinary tasks…. thus needing a constant ‘wake up call’….. The whole life is a wake up call…. if I listen to it properly.

*