As I woke up this morning, the first thing I learned was about my friend Parvinder Singh, meeting with an accident yesterday, on his birthday, 18th July. We are all so happy for Parvinder that he was unhurt and is doing fine.
God has been kind. If not …
One would recall the true life story, I shared about my dear friend, Dr. Mitesh Shah. Mitesh missed out on our “Fab Four – Sachin, Amit, Mitesh , Jayesh” trip to Tirupati in 2009, to seek blessings from the Lord for our new borns. His father-in-law was diagnosed with a cardiac problem and Mitesh dropped out from the trip just an hour before our departure from Mumbai. A day later, exactly at the time when the three of us were at the Tirupati temple, Mitesh was admitted to a cardiac hospital – just in time to be taken care of.
God has been kind. If not …
Not many of my friends know, that at the age of 9 when I was in Class IV, I was diagnosed with a brain tuberculosis. The prayers, support and good wishes from family, friends, well wishers and doctors helped me recover in quick time. Dr. Ashok Hazari, our close relative and family doctor has been supporting the family right throughout the difficult times.
God has been kind. If not ….
I would like to conclude by sharing what could have possibly been life’s greatest regret. On 23rd May, 2015, Maahir and Shourya were playing in the building complex till well past 11 in the night. As always, either we would get them or someone would drop them home. It was not to happen that night. At around 11:30, I had a vision that Shourya has badly hurt himself . Seconds later, Maahir rushed into the house with Shourya’s bleeding and roughed up right hand. Shourya’s hand was trapped in the collapsible door of the moving lift causing a severe crushing injury – pulled off just in time.
It’s been a difficult two months for our six year old, with the many visits to Amit’s hospital – the first one within minutes of the incident, well past mid-night. Every time Amit opened the bandaged right hand for the painful medical processes, we would pray for things being fine.
Under the watchful eyes of my buddy, Shourya Shourya’s right hand is recovering. He hasn’t missed his school for a single day – and has been writing with his left hand ever since the accident. Soon, he will be able to write with his right hand again. Our little, delicate darling Shourya has lived up to his name which means Braveheart.
God has been kind. If not ….
PS – Our close family friends, two brothers, owned a popular fast food restaurant. Life presented them with many challenges, but with their ever positive and “never say die approach”, they did well for their families, inspite of critical heath issues. While the elder one (50) was on dialysis for the last 7 years, the younger one (47) too had to undergo the procedure on alternate days for the last 2 years. Both brothers had come to terms with life – going about their work, family and social responsibilities like all of us do. In January, the younger brother passed away within a month of a brief spout of ill-health. The elder brother had just begun to plan for the two families, only to be gone – 21 days later, after he developed some complications during the dialysis process.
“Personal leadership must come from the inside out. You cannot wait for someone else to push you; you must motivate yourself through goal setting.”- Paul J. Meyer
I am glad that the government has finally initiated action on building the memorial over the tomb of our late President Dr. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, at his hometown in Rameshwaran. Having read Dr. Kalam’s works and being professionally associated with organizations like ISRO and VSSC, I personally feel that it was the humility and simplicity of the man while he was alive, that has so far deprived him of his rightful place in the history of India.
While reading Dr. Kalam’s book “Ignited Minds”, one is amazed by the vision of this remarkable scientist, scientific administrator, turned President of India. His views on science, development, potential of India and it’s youth, spirituality, culture demonstrate his deep understanding on matters of critical importance, based on many personal observations and thorough analyses. His remarkable ability to translate his thoughts into simple messages and lessons for a nation, is the reason for every Indian to read Dr. Kalam’s works. As a tribute to India’s “Missile Man”, “People’s President” , “Bharat Ratna”, I summarize below his views on the role of parliament in development of the nation. The following text, written in 2002 seems to be his posthumous advise to the parliamentarians and politicians of today.
“The needs of a nation’s people are bigger and much more important than any other considerations. We need to realize that missions are always bigger than organizations, just as organizations are always bigger than the individuals who run them.
The mission of Parliament is that it has to be alive and dynamic over issues vital to the existence of our very nationhood. Our freedom did not come as a gift. The whole country struggled for decades to achieve the first vision of independence, so we have to protect it. To preserve this freedom from intruders and others who would compromise it is our bounden duty and not a matter of choice and convenience. No ideology is above the security and prosperity of our country. No agenda is more important than harmony among the people.
For great men, religion is a way of making friends; small people make religion a fighting tool.
Three factors are invariably found in a strong nation: a collective pride in its achievements, unity and the ability for combined action. It is because our sense of mission has weakened that we have ceased to be true to our culture and ourselves. If we come to look upon ourselves as a divided people with no pride in our past and no faith in the future, what else can we look forward to forward to except frustration, disappointment and despair?
For a people and a nation to rise to the highest, they must have a common memory of great heroes and exploits, of great adventures and triumphs in the past. What we need today is a vision for the nation which can bring unity. Leaders must ensure that the younger generation is better than them and not subject them to circumstances that will stunt their growth.”
As another year of life goes by, the thought and realization that you are mid-way through life begins to dawn upon. Getting out of the thirties doesn’t hit you as much as the thought of entering into the forties. It seems to be the time, when life begins to question you –
What have you achieved?
What have you contributed?
Have you made the difference?
And above all – where do you go from here?
At “Half Time”, you need a “Time Out”. As we continue our journey in search for the answers – it’s time to reflect on the many gifts of life.
Thank God
One is thankful to God for his blessings of a loving and caring family, encouraging friends, inspiring teachers and supportive colleagues. “If I have seen far, it is because I have stood on the shoulders of giants.”
Set Goals
What we are today comes from our thoughts of yesterday, and our present thoughts build our life of tomorrow. Our life is the creation of our mind. Set Goals. “Whatever you vividly imagine, ardently desire, sincerely believe and enthusiastically act upon, must, inevitably come to pass.”
Never Give up
The journey of life has to be in pursuit of excellence. No matter how good you are, you can always get better – and that’s the exciting part. Never, never, never…never give up. “Koshish karne waloon ki kabhi haar nahin hoti.” (The one who tries, never fails).
Be Equanimous
Life is a journey – of ups and downs, of joys and sorrows. Life’s greatest challenge is learning to be equanimous in both pleasure and pain. The true measure of progress is our state of consciousness and the change this brings about in our thoughts, behavior, attitude, actions and responses. “Adversity introduces a man to himself”.
Life Comes Full Circle
Over the many years, one has realized that life is a great equalizer; what you give is what you get. Life is too long. In the end, life comes full circle. Circumstances and people will come back. Remember, “There is no witness so terrible or no accuser as powerful as conscience.”
Time is Precious
Money is a by-product of hard, honest work. Health is wealth. Our greatest gift and most precious asset is “Time”. And, while we may want to believe that we are at half time, none of us knows when the Referee decides to blow the whistle.
Have Faith
We often regret when things don’t happen as we plan them, only to realize later that it all happens for a reason. There is a popular Malayalam quote, “Njan pathi, daivam pathi” – it means, I need to do my half, the rest shall be done by the Lord.
Where Do You Go From Here?
Our life is on the line every single day. Each day, we script our story – through thoughts, words and actions. Every day we build our legacy, and everyday our eulogies are being written.
Going forward, one prays for good health, peace, and prosperity for self, friends, family; knowledge and values for children; and seeks blessing to be a good human being, a leader with the ability to touch, move, inspire and make a difference to the lives of those around. “Life is not about keeping or settling scores. It’s about understanding people the way they are. Above all, it is about choosing to use our life to touch someone else’s in a way that could not have been possible otherwise.”
“Success is in the big things. Happiness is in the small things. Meditation is in nothing. God is in everything.”
The timing was perfect. Four children in five months. The planning couldn’t have been better. Amit, Sachin, Mitesh and I have been together since twenty years. Now, our kids would grow up together.
On 20th March, 2009, Amit and Trishla were blessed with their first baby, Dhruti
A month later, on mom’s birthday, 21st April, Shourya entered our family. Maahir is a Valentine day baby, year 2006.
Sachin and Prachi were blessed with their second princess, Sucheta, on 18th June. Vedika is six years elder to her younger sibling.
Mitesh and Rashmi’s family was complete, when the youngest amongst the four kids, Prisha, was born on 27th July; Aditya had a sister to play with.
Amongst close friends, Vivek and Nisha lead the pack with two super kids – Yash, nine and Naman, six.
“For our next vacation, we will need a twenty seater bus,” said Mitesh. He’s our chief co-coordinator for the vacations – binding all of us together. His planning is perfect – we’ve enjoyed each time we’ve been on an outing. He along with Sachin do all the work. Amit and I generally like to laze around.
And while there was enough time before a vacation could be planned, we didn’t want to wait for long to thank the Lord for blessing us with normal, healthy children. The trip to Tirupati was on the priority list. Mitesh wished that the four of us should make this trip together. Soon, he made all the plans for the trip.
We were to leave Mumbai on 7th September, by the afternoon train. We would reach Tirumala the next day, and head to Tirupati. Sachin made arrangements for our stay at a matth (residential facility for traveling pilgrims) in Tirupati. Amit, with his “contacts” (he has them in all places) planned for special darshan at the temple; the first one on 8th evening, and the second on 9th morning. After the darshan of the Lord, Amit and Mitesh would fly back to Mumbai. Sachin would travel to Chennai for business. I planned a visit to the Satish Dhawan Space Centre (SDSC), the rocket launch site for the Indian Space Research Organization (ISRO).
SDSC also known as SHAR is located in Sriharikota, a spindle shaped island on the east coast of Andhra Pradesh, about 80 km north of Chennai. I was scheduled to stay there for three days and return to Mumbai on 12th September after completing the commissioning of the plant and equipment supplied by our company ‘Unique Mixers’. Our mixers are in operation at ISRO for manufacturing solid propellants used in rocket propulsion systems. This would be my third visit to this high security zone.
All seemed to be going as per “our master plan” until the morning of 5th September, when Rashmi’s dad complained of chest pain and uneasiness. He had to be scheduled for an angiography on 7th September, the day of our departure. The procedure was to start at 8 am. Mitesh, being a doctor himself, was responsible for coordinating with the doctors treating uncle. The course of further treatment would be decided only after the angiography.
As uncle’s health was stable, the family advised Mitesh to proceed with the Tirupati trip after the angiography. Prayers to the Lord are always answered. Mitesh packed his bags for the trip a night before the procedure and carried them to the hospital the next morning. Since the hospital was on our route to the railway station, we would pick him. The train was scheduled to depart at 2 pm. In all probability the angiography would be over by then. We were confident that Mitesh would be with us on the trip. It was after all his plan – he had to be there.
At 2 pm that afternoon, only three of us boarded the train. Mitesh couldn’t make it. Not because of uncle’s health, but because the doctor was late for the angiography. When we reached the hospital at forty five minutes past noon, the angiography had just started. Mitesh had to be in the ‘Cath lab’ during the procedure.
Mitesh is amongst those who do not give up easily. He is a fighter to the core. Our master planner had already thought of a back-up plan. “I shall be with the Lord”, he promised. He knew he could take the evening flight to Chennai and meet us at Tirupati the next day. On the train, we missed him and his enthusiasm.
Uncle’s angiography revealed complications. A by-pass surgery was the only fix. In difficult times, the one friend that we can count on is Mitesh. He has always stood by us. This time his family was counting on him. Mitesh couldn’t make it to Tirupati.
When we reached the holy town, we were informed by Amit’s local contact that because of the rush it would be difficult for him to arrange for the VIP darshan. The matth where we planned to stay had no vacant rooms. Our plans for the trip had fallen through – we hated it. I was upset and so were Amit and Sachin.
Things were somehow managed and later that evening we by-passed a five hour queue and a few thousand devotes, for a back door entry into the temple. Amit’s contact guided us through all the “no entries”, right upto the point of darshan in less than ten minutes. At that moment, we didn’t think of using the short-cut as “not right”. It’s strange how we tend to look at things differently when we are on the benefited side.
As we stood besides the ‘contact’, with the Lord in sight for more than three minutes, I could not stop looking at those in front of me. These men, women and children may have traveled thousand of miles, would have spent many hours in the queue, only for a glimpse of the Lord. But just as they reached the point of darshan, they were being pushed ahead by the temple guards. The treatment handed out to them was unkind, if not inhuman. We were fortunate only because of the ‘contact’ and the Rs. 5,000/- that we paid him. After the evening darshan, we settled in a room at the Pushpagiri matth and were looking forward to the 9th morning darshan. It was on the same evening that I set the goal of writing a book. My first book “My Notes”, published in November 2009 was a fruition of the goal – another blessing of the Lord.
With Sachin and Amit at Pushpagiri Matth
The average number of devotees that visit the Tirupati Devasthanam each day is about 50,000 to 1,00,000. Our morning darshan would be the VIP darshan, where for a period of one hour the entry inside the temple is restricted to 500 devotees only. You can get onto this list of “Fortune 500” only if you have a recommendation from a top politician or a bureaucrat or if you plan months in advance.
In the VIP corridors, Sachin lead the group of 500 with chants, “Govinda….Go….Vinda”. We slowly walked through the temple doors that lead to the Lord. There was no pushing by the guards this time. We had a darshan of the Lord from the fifth door out of the seven doors. It was like a one on one meeting with Lord Venkateswara. The experience of those few moments would be etched in our memories, for life. We once again missed our friend – may be wasn’t destined to meet the Lord.
As I walked backwards out of the temple but with the Lord in sight (you never turn your back to the Lord), I sensed a strong pinch on my arm. It was a temple guard. He hinted that he could put me back in the queue for one more darshan if I paid him. I guess the guards and the priests at the temple would be as rich as the Lord himself. I kept walking backwards, and out of the temple complex. I prayed to the Lord and wished that the next time all four of us shall visit with our families and hoped to have a similar darshan.
After a quick lunch, we were on our way back. We took the taxi from Tirupati, and while Sachin and Amit headed to Chennai, I got dropped at a state transport bus terminal. It took me three buses, an auto-rickshaw and about four hours to reach the ISRO guest house. I don’t remember much of this travel, but there is one thing I can never forget; the face of the man who boarded the bus and the expressions of the hen that he held in his hands.
By the time I reached SHAR it was 5:00 pm, and there was not much work that I could complete that evening. I settled into the room, thinking about being blessed with a once in a lifetime like darshan of the Lord and the other events that unfolded during this short, yet memorable trip. The only regret was that Mitesh was not with us. I wondered why?
At about 6:40 pm, Sachin called. He had the answer. Back in Mumbai, there had been another medical emergency that afternoon, another chest pain, an admission to the cardiac hospital and a life-saving injection. It was good that Mitesh was not with us on the trip. If he had been, we don’t know what would have happened.
The three of us were blessed to be on the “Fortune 500” list which met the Lord that morning, but Mitesh was the chosen one – whom the Lord visited himself. The Lord was with Mitesh that afternoon, taking care of him when he had the chest pain. Mitesh kept his promise. The Master’s plan was much bigger than our master plan.
Govinda…Go…Vinda……..
P.S. – We often regret when things don’t happen as we plan them, only to realize later that it all happens for a reason. There is a popular Malayalam quote, “Njan pathi, daivam pathi” – it means, I need to do my half, the rest shall be done by the Lord.
While attending a conference at Washington-DC, Anuj a good friend who lived in Seattle, visited us in State-College, Pennsylvania. This was in January 2001; I was in my first year of MS at The Pennsylvania State University. After an enjoyable weekend with us it was time for Anuj to return to the conference. Not wanting to drive back alone (it took about four hours from State College to DC), he suggested that Atin and I join him. A free ride to the Capital of USA and stay in the luxurious Hilton hotel lured us into the offer. We roped in Vishal our other roommate since we required someone to drive us back to State College. Atin and I had never driven in America until then.
On reaching DC we returned the car Anuj had rented and asked for a one-way rental to State-College. That’s when it began to go wrong. “No one-way rentals”, “Under 25, Sorry”, “No rentals on international-driving-permit,” were the response we got from car rental agencies. In the two hours that we searched, we must have inquired at over 10 rentals. We traveled from one rental to another by bus, metro and at times even requested rental companies to drive us to their competitor. Seeing our plight they obliged. We finally succumbed and gave up our hunt for the night. We decided to rent a car for local sightseeing and leave our worries to the next morning.
After a night ride of the city, we parked the car on the street adjacent to the hotel because we couldn’t afford the hotel parking rate of 20$. Tired and hungry, we sneaked into the hotel room one by one. We thought the hotel would charge us more if they saw four of us together. At about mid-night we called for pizzas to be delivered at the hotel.
The pizza guy arrived at 2:30 a.m.! By then sleep had beat hunger and all except me had gone to sleep. And after returning the pizzas I too went to sleep.
Our plans for the next morning had been already made; we had to move our car from the street by 6 am else it would be towed. We were late by fifteen minutes. “Good morning friends,” a friendly cop greeted us with a 20$ parking ticket in his hand. The adventures for the day had just begun. We bid Anuj good bye and started our tour of the city.
After the city tour we forgot the hardships of the previous night. We found out that we could return to State College by the Greyhound Bus Service. For three people it turned out to be more expensive than a car rental. With no options and the little money we had in our pockets we bought the bus tickets for State College. We needed to get back in time for our teaching assistant-ship assignments the next morning.
We still had to return the local-rental car. As we drove past the busy streets of Washington DC, a huge sign-board greeted us, “Welcome to Virginia”. We had lost our way! We kept searching for an angel who would tell us the way back to DC but never found one. By the time we returned the car and reached the bus station the bus had already left. To our despair, we realized that we were early for the next bus. And that would be there in a little less than 24 hours!
Out of money, gas and sleep we somehow managed to get back to the Hilton for some rest. Sitting in the grand lobby of the Hilton with no hard cash we worried over our options of getting back to State College. We requested a friend from State College to come to DC for pick up. He said he would revert. By then, Anuj returned from the conference and was shocked to see us. He chuckled when we narrated the events of the day to him. He knew the solution to our problem, “I’ll drive you guys back!” he volunteered. He drove us back to State College that night and returned to DC the next morning in time to attend the conference. This time he took the ride back alone.
Eight years have passed but the events of those 24 hours are still etched in my memory. It couldn’t have gone more wrong than it did.
On my way to Ranchi for a business meet, I was inside the Kingfisher Lounge at Mumbai airport, when I spotted a familiar face. The face was far too familiar for me to take my eyes off. It was my favorite super star, Aamir Khan.
As I stared at the approaching super star, I realized that he was getting closer to where I was sitting.
“Is someone sitting over here?” he asked.
“No. You may please sit,” was my quick response.
A center table and approximately four feet of space was what separated me from Aamir. It’s hard to describe the feeling of that moment in words…. It can only be experienced.
Aamir was accompanied by an unknown female colleague. She started talking to him about work. He interrupted her and walked to the cafeteria. After looking at everything that was for the taking, he returned to his seat with four chocolate cookies. He then asked her to continue. And even though I sat staring at my laptop screen, I couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversation.
She asked him if he would like to go to the hotel or directly to the site, once they landed in Jaipur. He said he was fine with anything, adding, “I just need a bathroom to freshen up.” She then switched topics about some tax rebate for the donation he had made to an NGO. It was something that she was unable to sort out, so she asked if he could speak to the concerned person. He said he would.
I decided to ask him for an autograph. I took my business card and turned it over to hand it to Aamir. I spotted a small black mark on it. I quickly pulled out another card. This was spotless. I requested for an autograph. “OK,” he said. I handed over my pen and the card. He signed, stopped, looked at the pen… and signed again. I was happy to have his autograph on the back of my business card. I tucked it back into my wallet and made sure that I did not mix it up with my other cards.
He continued to bite the cookies. ‘Should I ask him for a photograph,’ I wondered. Before thinking too much I said, “Aamir, do you mind a photograph?” He looked at me and nodded affirmatively. ‘Bingo!’
As both of us were seated face-on, I thought I would request Aamir to come and sit besides me (mine was a sofa for two). Before I could say anything, I saw Aamir already up on his toes. I nervously handed over my new Samsung mobile to his colleague and explained to her how to click. I stood besides him, trying to put on my ‘all-time best’ smile. The clicks were silent. She asked me if it was done. I replied “I guess so. Thanks.”
I thanked Aamir, shook hands and sat down to see the photograph. The picture was blurred beyond recognition.“It looks like a ghost of you and me,” I told Aamir as I showed him the photograph. I hoped that he would oblige with one more photograph. He said nothing. I cursed myself. ‘Why did I not get my digital camera out of my laptop case for this one big moment?
’
The Ghost Picture
I pretended to be working again and wished that my phone would ring. I had set a new ring tone just a few days back. It was the song ‘Dil Chahta Hai’. No calls. Luck just seemed to have run out. Meanwhile, a Kingfisher executive came up to Aamir and told him that he could board the flight when he was ready.
A few minutes later I walked out from the lounge even as Aamir sat there. I wanted to share the excitement with my loved ones. I called up Purvi but she did not pick up the phone. As I passed through the security check I still kept thinking about the ghost picture. I settled at the departure terminal and looked at the photograph one more time. I sadly looked on; zoomed, rotated… it still was the ghost picture. I gave up and moved to the next photograph.
“Me and Aamir” the photograph that you see was there. She had clicked two photographs. The ghost picture was God’s teaser.
“How Much is Enough?” the thought first occurred when Purvi and I were enjoying the sunset over the Powai lake. It was amongst one of the memorable evenings that we’ve spent in the seventeen years that we have known each other. The lake is less than 20 minutes from where we stay. Yet, in the many years, we never experienced the solitude and the bliss, which we did that evening.
“How Much is Enough?” the thought first occurred when Purvi and I were enjoying the sunset over the Powai lake. It was amongst one of the memorable evenings that we’ve spent in the seventeen years that we have known each other. The lake is less than 20 minutes from where we stay. Yet, in the many years, we never experienced the solitude and the bliss, which we did that evening. There was a sense of regret, even more when I realised that I couldn’t commit as to when next we would experience a similar evening. We are too busy – long working hours, an ever overflowing inbox, and unending work commitments; striving to maximize work done in the time available. It’s a story not too uncommon – something that most of us can relate to. But for once, the still waters of the lake, the mountain in the back drop and the splendor of the orange sunset, quieted the mind – as we asked each other the question, “How Much is Enough?”
Work is worship. Being ambitious, setting goals and working hard to achieve the goals is imperative. It provides a sense of direction and purpose to our professional life. It is only through work that we earn money, an essential and irreplaceable commodity.
The question here is about how much money is enough? For some, this question may not seem to be relevant at all, as they struggle to meet their everyday needs. I wondered if dad would have asked himself this question when he was of my age. Probably not, he could not afford to then. We’ve been better off; because in our upbringing, we were never deprived of the basic needs. Our children are more fortunate. It is no longer about the needs, it is about the wants.
The reality lies in the fact that a generation committed to saving has been replaced by one devoted to spending. Our basic needs now stretch beyond ‘roti, kapda aur makaan’ (food, clothing and shelter). Our wants have unending bounds – a splendid five bedroom apartment in South Bombay (SoBo) high rise overlooking the Arabian Sea, a BMW 740i, traveling club class …..and so on. We seem to have forgotten that there is a beautiful world out there, beyond what money can buy.
I decided to pursue the answer by discussing the subject with friends, family, teachers and business associates. Some of them answered in numbers, some in words, and some others had not consciously thought about the question. For some, it wasn’t just about how much was enough for them, it was also about what their children would inherit. A friend asked me to watch the movie, ‘Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara’. It wasn’t long before I realized that there is no (universal) answer to the question. The quest however brought to light some invaluable insights, I wish to share.
Parag, a dear friend (he designed the cover page for ‘My Notes’), a few years elder to me, has identified ‘milestones’ when he would need money. Like, when purchasing a new apartment, and then when children (Disha- 9 years and Rishi – 7 years) would want to pursue higher education, and then at the time of children’s wedding. More importantly, he realizes that he would have enough time to get to the milestones as they are well separated – there is no need for ‘rat-race’. He doesn’t hesitate to skip office or work from home when his mother, who lives just a few minutes away, comes to see them, or when children want to play with mom and dad. “If Disha and Rishi tell me that they want to play a game of monopoly with me and Nikita, I don’t refuse, until and unless I have something very important to do. I don’t think they would ask me this question a few years later when they would be on their own. Neither do I want to regret not having spent enough time with my parents, and learning from their experiences. These moments in life shall never return,” he explained.
A business owner and a close associate, who is almost dad’s age, felt that he has much more than what he deserves. For the first twenty years of his professional career he worked with a private firm. “If I was still working with them, I would be drawing a salary of about a lakh (hundred thousand) per month, and that would have been more than enough for my lifestyle. Success in business has bought me two apartments; I own a Skoda-Laura and a Toyota-Innova. I couldn’t have asked for more. I continue to work, because I want to support my employees and my vendors, who also depend on this business. Our company bears all the education expenses for our employees’ children. Our employees enjoy medical benefits.” He was not sure if his son, who just started college, would like to take the business forward. “It is for him to decide,” he remarked.
Another son, elsewhere, preferred to inherit cash. His father, a respected professor, worked hard all his life and made a fortune in the coaching classes business. He owned and operated about ten branches in Mumbai with 2500 students a year, at the higher secondary level. The son couldn’t (or may be didn’t want to?) manage the operations (he wasn’t qualified enough to teach.). Unwillingly, and possibly because of parental responsibilities (obligations?) the father sold his stake in business to his other partner, insisting on receiving all the money cash-down. He handed over everything to his son, so as not to be blamed later. He was told that it wasn’t enough. The teacher taught two generations, but couldn’t educate his own child.
I recall another discussion, with one of my favourite teacher of schooldays (also an owner of a coaching class). He narrated his story and taught me an invaluable and unforgettable lesson, “Jayesh, I came to Bombay with virtually nothing. I was teaching in a coaching class and stayed with my maternal uncle in his one-room chawl (a poor man’s studio apartment in Bombay). I had a dream then, that one day I will own a one-room chawl. I worked hard for it.” After a long pause (a sense of nostalgia) he continued, “This four bedroom apartment that you are now sitting in, the classes and all that I can afford to buy is a by-product of the hard-work. Money is only a by-product of good work.” My teacher reminded me of Lord Krishna’s sermon to Arjuna, on nishkama karma (performing one’s duty for its own sake without thinking about ‘what’s in it for me’), “Be intent on the action, not on the fruits of action”.
Some people said that they worked hard all their life, but never got what they deserved. “Life has not been fair to me,” they complained. I am not sure if someone had guaranteed us a fair life.
My best friend worked hard and realized his father’s dream of building a world class cold storage facility. Their tagline, “We preserve your trust,” is a testimony of the many years of toil and commitment to good work. Many envied my friend and his work – it was all well, until the day when the cold storage went up in flames. All that was built was gone in a moment, the years of goodwill was lost. “What is lost is lost. God has endowed us with two hands to work and intelligence to think – and that is enough to achieve our goals”, his determination only strengthened after the accident. He had learned the secret to earning enough.
While reading the book ‘India Unbound’, by Gurcharan Das, I found myself relating to the author who at the age of fifty decided to give up the largesse of corporate life. He took an early retirement and relinquished a plum position in a multinational company to pursuit his interest for writing. He was partly guided by the Vedic philosophy which has defined four stages of human life. Brahmacharya, the first stage, is the life of a student or a celibate. Grihasta, the second stage is the life of the householder. The Grihasta earns his livelihood by whatever a vocation befitting his being a member of his group, raising children, supporting his own family, kith and kin besides the persons performing their duties in the other three Ashramas (stages). Vanaprasta, the third stage, indicates the departure from material possessions. The man no longer takes part in the commercial activities and the woman leaves the running of the household to her daughter-in-law. People in this ashram play the role of mentors. The final stage is Sanyasa or renunciation; the person leaves society to spend the remaining part of his or her life in meditation and the contemplation of God in solitude.
The (unfortunate) reality of modern day life is that no one is able to (or wants to?) move out of the Grihastaashram. I talked to some who have retired from service; they said that they wanted to continue to work so as to keep themselves busy. Likewise, there are doctors, lawyers and businessmen who continue to work throughout life. “I would prefer to die with my boots on,” said an uncle in his early seventies, “it’s not about money, it’s about keeping the mind occupied.” They are happy to do the same work, which they did all their life (because that’s what they know best). They moved into the twilight years of life, satisfied (occupied?) with their families and work. “But now when the time has come for them to slow down, they find that they have missed the boat and don’t have a ‘third thing’ to fall back upon,” writes Bhavin Jhankaria in his thoughtful article titled “What is Your ‘Third Thing’?” Our ‘third thing’ is our talent, our passion for something other than work. More often than not, the third thing is compromised in the (so called) ‘interest of work’ and postponed to some time later. We never realize when it is lost.
A family member advised me to read the anecdote, ‘How Much Land Does a Man Need’, by Leo Tolstoy. The answer is known to all, but the extraordinary thing is that few are willing to accept it, “Six feet from the head to the heels is all that is needed”.
How much is enough? Purvi and I are searching for the answers hidden in these stories. Our needs are limited and so is life.
“Beneath the helmet, under that unruly curly hair, inside the cranium, there is something we don’t know, something beyond scientific measure. Something that allows him to soar, to roam a territory of sport that, forget us, even those who are gifted enough to play alongside him cannot even fathom. When he goes out to bat, people switch on their television sets and switch off their lives.” – BBC sports
“Paaka paisa lagaya lagta hai. Bahut haara ho ga” (Looks like he’s bet money. Must have lost a fortune). These comments were directed to yours truly, on completion of the India – South Africa world cup 2011 league game. I was watching the cricket match at a kid’s birthday party at the Moti Mahal restaurant in Bandra, Mumbai.
Besides me there were about ten other fathers, and around twenty-five mothers who accompanied their kids to Harsh’s birthday party. There was plenty to do for the kids – magic show, games, tatoo, face painting, and DJ. The game host took care to the kids, freeing up moms to catch up on their gossip, talk about their most recent designer wear and jewelry purchases and discuss the latest on TV reality shows. Of what I overheard, MTV Roadies was the number one favorite along with Emotional Atyachaar, Love Lock-Up and Maa Exchange. “I love the show where children get different parents”, said a mom blessed with two sons. I wondered why? Papas too were having a great time – watching cricket and enjoying their drink. I too decided to have my share of fun at the party. Right through the game, I was confident that India would win. I cheered my country with shouts that were echoed by the rest at the party, “India…. In..diya…India….In..diya”. The face painting artist made a joker for me, Maahir and Shourya loved it as did the rest at the party. Meanwhile, the balance of the match kept shifting like a see-saw. The game was heading to be a cliff hanger.
Before we complete the story of the birthday party, the cricket match, the opening remarks and my reply, there are a few stories that I wish to share with my fellow Indians.
As I turn back in time and try to remember my first cricketing memory, the scenes of 1983 World cup victory comes to mind. Late evening, on 25th June my chacha (uncle) told me that India had won the cricket World cup. I only realized the significance of the event when the local Irani restaurant gave away free ‘Pav’ (Indian Bread), courtesy, Kapil Dev and his team. The captain’s catch to dismiss Viv Richards in the final was the turning point. His knock of 175 against Zimbabwe, after the top order had collapsed to 17 for 5 is the other lasting memory of that tournament. India became the first team, other than the West Indies to win the world cup. A 10-year old kid watching the game dreamt of winning the world cup for his team some day – it inspired him to take up playing the game.
I too, became an ardent cricket follower like the rest of my family. My papa, three uncles and I would get up at 4:30 am to watch India play in the Benson & Hedges cup, 1985. Atam uncle would make tea for all of us. Until then, I had never seen any of the men in my family enter the kitchen. We would all be glued to our 12 channel, Sony color TV, tuned into Doordarshan, the one and only channel then. The wake-ups paid dividends; India won the Benson & Hedges Cup. Ravi Shastri won the “Champion of Champions” title and an Audi Car which could accommodate 11 Indians – inside and outside. My cousin was born that year – I named him Ravi – his last name is Jashnani.
A year later, it was time for Pakistan to square off their loss to India in the B&H cup finals. With four runs to get of the last ball, the wily Javed Miandad hit Chetan Sharma’s full toss delivery for a six. India lost. That evening, I cried. India cried. The loss rankled for a long time as India found it difficult to beat Pakistan in Sharjah thereafter. Some say it was by design.
The victories of 1983 and 1985 changed the course of cricket in India forever. But it was in 1989 that India and the cricketing world were gifted without doubt with the greatest cricketer of all time. Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar made his debut against Pakistan, aged just 16.
Two memories stand out from that tour of Pakistan. The young boy was hit by a nasty bouncer by the intimidating Waqar Younis in the final test at Sialkot. His nose was bleeding, but he continued to bat and denied any medical assistance. Second, his batting assault on the great leg spinner Abdul Qadir. He had earlier hit the young leg spinner Mushtaq Ahmed for a couple of sixes. Qadir then came up to him and said, “Bachchon ko kyon mar rahe ho? Hamein bhi maar dikhao” (“Why are you only hitting the kid? Hit me too.”). The little wonder immediately obliged – hitting Qadir for 28 runs in one over (including four sixes). Sachin’s treatment of Abdul Qadir in that game is part of folklore now.
Indian cricket went through a transition in the early nineties, with the old guard calling it a day. Mohammad Azharuddin was the new captain. The 1992 world cup in Australia, Sachin’s first, marked the inset of pinch-hitters. New Zealand under the leadership of Martin Crowe experimented with Mark Greatbatch at the top of the batting order. Dipak Patel, the off-spinner would open the bowling. Jonty Rhodes’ “superman” run out of Inzamam-ul-Haq gave a whole new dimension to fielding. New Zealand were amongst the favorites to win the tournament, until Inzamam single handedly beat them in the semi-finals. Pakistan won that world cup under the leadership of the charismatic Imran Khan. The tournament was quite a disastrous one for India. Their poor performance saw them at No 7 in the final standings with only Sri Lanka and Zimbabwe below them.
Then in 1993, India hosted the 5 nation Hero Cup. In the semi-finals, South Africa needed just six runs to win with one over remaining. Ajit Wadekar, the Indian coach then recalls, “As I remember it, Kapil was a bit, just a bit mind you, reluctant to bowl. Sachin grabbed the ball”. He conceded only three. It was the magical victory which drove the entire nation crazy that night. The Cricket Association of Bengal sent champagne bottles to the Indian dressing room. They were sent back with reasoning that this was just the semi-final. The victory in finals against West Indies would be remembered for Anil Kumble’s magical spell of 6 wickets for 12 runs.
Tendulkar was told to open the batting at Auckland against New Zealand in 1994. It was the day of Holi – and the master blaster showed his true colors. He went on to make 82 runs off 49 balls. The same year he scored his first century in his 79th one day game.
The 1996 world cup saw the world cup returning to India after the 1987 Reliance world cup. Sri Lanka & Pakistan were co-hosts. Being the home side, India were one of the favorites to win the tournament. They beat Pakistan in the quarter finals, a match that shall be remembered for Jadeja’s onslaught in the slog overs and the spat between Venkatesh Prasad and Aamir Sohail, which the former won. In the semi-finals, Sri Lanka batting first scored a competitive 251. At 98-1, India looked well on course to making to the final. But once Sachin was dismissed, India suddenly crumbled to 120/8. The crowd erupted in anger and disrupted proceedings. The game had to be handed over to the Sri Lankans. The sight of Vinod Kambli walking back to the pavilion with tears in his eyes was one of the sorriest sights ever witnessed in Indian cricket. Tendulkar scored 523 runs in the tournament, but he would still have to wait for another world cup.
For me personally, Sachin’s most memorable innings was against Australia in the semi-final of the Coca-Cola Cup at Sharjah, in 1998. India, batting second, had two targets: 285 to win the match, 254 to qualify for the finals. Sachin single-handedly challenged the Aussies with his masterful batting; the Gods decided to watch the game and arrived at the Sharjah stadium with the desert storm. The little genius paid them his respects. He blasted a brilliant 143 from 131 balls. India lost the game, but made it to the finals. The Gods showered blessings on their favorite son, they knew his job was only half done. Birthday boy Sachin Tendulkar repeated his class act again with his 15th One-day century to take India to a spectacular title win over Australia. After being defeated, Steve Waugh, the Australian captain then said, “It was one of the greatest innings I have ever seen. There is no shame being beaten by such a great player, Sachin is perhaps only next to the Don’.”
Not many remember Tendulkar’s cracking innings of 140 against minnows Kenya in the 1999 world cup. But one thing that certainly comes to mind is how the master batsman inspired India to victory just three days after his father’s death. Yet, India failed to make it to the semi-finals.
The beginning of the new millennium was not very auspicious for the Indian cricket team. The match fixing scandals engulfed big names like Kapil Dev, Ajay Jadeja, Ajay Sharma and Mohammad Azharuddin. “You can not fix a match until and unless Sachin Tendulkar is out.” This what a bookmaker said to CBI officers during the interrogation of match fixing scandal in 2000. The great man did not let his country down.
The year 2003, was probably India’s best chance to regain the world cup glory of 1983. The team did exceptionally well until the finals. The tournament shall be remembered for Sachin’s astounding innings of 98 against Pakistan. Struck down by a shooting pain in his left leg and batting with a runner, Sachin took on the Pakistan quicks, crunching 12 boundaries and a six in a 75-ball stay that even by his own high standards, he considers amongst his best one-day innings. Sadly though, it all fell apart against Australia in the finals. Sachin was the losing hero of the world cup, the Man of the Tournament
In the 2007 world cup in West Indies, India was knocked out in the group stage.
By 2010, the master had amassed both the highest number of runs and the maximum tons in Tests and one-dayers alike. If devout worshippers had any reason to quibble, it was that there was no one record-shattering innings to match Brain Lara’s test score of 400. The humble man himself may have not talked about it, but deep within he had a target. A staggering 2,961 matches and almost 39 years after the first ODI was played the little legend finally became the first cricketer to score 200 in a one-dayer, propelled by a record 25 fours in one knock. As has become customary after every achievement, Sachin looked at the heavens, remembered his father and thanked God. After the 200th run, the gaze upwards was longer than usual. At the receiving end, were the South Africans.
Coming back to the birthday party and the India – South Africa league game, the Proteas required fourteen runs of the last over, with 4 wickets to spare. Most men at the party hall thought that Harbhajan should bowl. Dhoni decided otherwise and handed over the ball to Ashish Nehra. All that the bowler had to do was bowl sensibly – just as Tendulkar did, 18 years ago. That was not to happen – and it took the South Africans just four balls – 4,6,2,4 to get to the target. South Africa didn’t win – India lost.
There was pin drop silence in the stadium – the expressions of those watching the game said the story. The party too went quiet. The song “All is Well” was turned off, kids stopped dancing, mummys stopped gossiping and daddies continued to drink (late into the night). Words fail to describe the disappointment and anguish of all those who just a few hours earlier applauded Sachin’s outstanding batting and his 99th international hundred, only to betrayed by the team’s mediocre batting and bowling. “How can a team lose 9 wickets for 29 runs? This match is fixed”, said some one at the party.
The 10 year old kid was now 37, still watching; this time, from the third man boundary. He did not cry, nor did he show any emotion. The great sportsman shook hands with the winning team and left the field with his head down. Not that he is not human, or does not have any emotions. In the 22 years, that he has been around, he has learned to live with failures – his excellence being undone by the mediocrity of his own men, time and again. “Without mediocrity, there is not value for excellence”, an unfortunate, but a true statement made by my dear friend Aniket Gore.
We all know about his shoulder surgery, his niggling knee injury, the ankle pain, the tennis elbow, but still expect him to win it for us, when there are ten others in the team.
As he walks out to the cricket field, shouldering the expectations of a billion people – he leaves all the pain behind, somewhere that you and me shall never find out. He’s buried it deep within – so deep – that he and he alone can feel it.
This is his sixth world cup – and probably his last. He’s done everything that he could have done to fulfill his childhood dream – he came back strong from his father’s death, battled injuries, has been playing non – stop for 22 years and has single handedly lifted to moods of this entire nation umpteen number of times.
It’s time for his team to rise to the occasion and make sure that they win the cup for his country and the billion countrymen whose hopes rest on his shoulders. Win the cup for Sachin – and relieve him from the buried pain and emotions. Because when he is gone, there will never be another Sachin who can be like him.
The joker who cheered for India till the last ball almost cried when he heard, “Paaka paisa lagaya lagta hai. Bahut haara ho ga”. This is his reply to all those mediocre people who don’t realize that if there is one thing that binds all Indians after the national flag, it is an emblem called, ‘Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar’.
I have seen God. He opens the batting for India in ODI. Take a bow to the master.
Chak De India !
23rd March, 2011
P.S. – This article was written on the eve of India-Australia world cup quarter – final. We beat the Aussies. The little man once again played his part. The team stood by him.
South Africa lost to New Zealand in the Quarter Finals. They “choked” again. I wished they won – so that India could beat them in the Finals – It’s always nice to have the last word.
New Zealand lost to Sri Lanka in the semi-final. India beat Pakistan in the second semi-final at Mohali. Tendlya scored 85 and was the man of the match. Dhoni and his men were outstanding.
On the night of April 2, 2011, Sachin’s dream came true – he conquered the last frontier. The team rose to the occasion – the captain lead from the front. They gifted him the World Cup – India celebrated. This time, the ten others hosted the party for the little master. The young Virat Kohli who carried the little master on his shoulders during the victory celebrations at the Wankhede stadium summed it up, “He has carried the burden of the nation for 21 years so it’s time we carried him on our shoulders”.
