Touched, Moved & Inspired

Dear Sneh,

My name is Jayesh Tekchandaney – a business owner by profession, an engineer by qualification, a writer, speaker and teacher at heart.

I attended your Mind Power workshop in Thane, on the 19th and 20th of May, 2012. I am touched, moved and inspired – the workshop has made a difference to my life.

I did not know about you until I attended the introductory session on 16th May at Kalidas, Mulund. Though I was impressed with your oratory skills, your memory and presentation techniques; I was unsure about what would be in the program for me.

I have been fortunate of being born and brought up by my learned parents in a wonderful family. I have received the best of education from my teachers. My friends and professional colleagues have always supported me. I am a voracious reader and a frequent writer. Through my reading, I was acquainted with most of what you spoke in the introduction to the workshop. It was only because of your money back guarantee proposal, that I was assured of you delivering a life-changing workshop. You made it happen.

The topics that you covered in two days, would require at least two years of reading and understanding for a normal human being like me. You had so much to give – it was up to the receiver to collect whatever he or she could. Thank you for your incomparable generosity. I hope I have gathered everything. The results shall speak for themselves, and I promise to share them with you – all my life.

I have been writing my goals since about 6 years – and have blessed with most of them. Your workshop and goal setting techniques will catalyze the blessings to come. I was told by my cousin, Dipti Shah, that you would teach how to make the goal chart. That did not happen (explicitly) during our course. I am not sure if it happened in the session of 3rd June which I did not attend. But the workshop provided enough motivation to make one for myself.

I am happy to share with you my goal chart, along with this communication.

Thank You,

God bless you,

I wish and pray that you touch, move and inspire many more lives,

Jayesh Tekchandaney

P.S. – It was through the positive energy accumulated during the course, that I was able to make an effort to resolve a troubled marriage, and have been successful to a good extent. This happened on the 3rd of June.

Response By Dr. Sneh Desai

I have read you whole experience..! You have done really a great job..! Now Sneh World’s Team wants to share your experience to all MPW students..! So we want your Name, Contact no., Address, email id, Name of which program you attended & when..!

Thanks….! Have a great life Ahead…!
– Dr.Sneh Desai (Ph.D.)

http://www.snehhouse.com/

Honey & Mayur

My Dear Mayur,

Thank you for the wonderful gift that you presented to all of us. We are all touched by your thoughtful gesture of presenting “our best moment” with you during the wedding celebrations. Your thoughts expressed on the back of the photographs are the icing on the cake.

I am so glad that my sister has found a humble, thoughtful, responsible and caring partner in you. While I was signing on your wedding photograph, the first though that occurred to me was “Made for Each Other” – I am sure both of you would agree.

Honey and I have been away from each other for more than 8 years now. In this time we did not communicate much (and may be that’s why I didn’t hear about you until last year). But deep within, both of us know that we are there for each other – always. The best part of our relationship was when we lived together. We were just the two kids in the house – sharing chocolates, riding the bicycle and the jeep I had, fighting over toys, studying together (chachu used to teach both of us). When someone took up a fight with me, he knew he had to deal with my sister – she was a good fighter then. It’s been 21 years since – she still remains “my best sister”. As I did say to you a couple of times before, I repeat “Take Care”. She is precious.

Thank your for your kind compliments about my participation in the wedding events. I must admit that I needed some one to say this – and am glad that it came from you. I had set myself a “family goal” of being a responsible brother during Honey’s wedding. It feels good to have accomplished the goal. This was the most enjoyable wedding celebration for me. A special thank you to your family – Mom, Dad, Maya, Ankur, Mama, Mami, Vidya, Masi, Divya…all of whom made the wedding so special.

Yours Always,

Sonu Bhaiya

The Story of Ms. Bhumika Patel

This story dates back to 2002. It’s about a pretty girl named Bhumika Patel, an engineering graduate from India who wanted to pursue a master’s degree at The Pennsylvania State University, USA.  For first hand information she contacted Nipun Patel, a graduate student at the Computer Engineering Department, PSU.  This story is about both of them.

Nipun was a tall, lanky guy from Ahmedabad, India. He stayed off campus at 3105, Plaza Drive, along with three other room mates. Vishal – ‘The Big Boss’, Jay (yours truly) – ‘The Playboy’ and Divya (male, age – 22) – ‘The Silent Killer’. For us he was ‘Bhaiyo’, meaning brother in Gujarati.  Nipun didn’t like the name; after all he was now in the United States of America. He preferred to be addressed as ‘Andy Patel’, his initials were N.D.
For the Indian students, 3105, Plaza Drive, was like the Indian Embassy (actually more of a ‘Dharamshala’) where anyone could walk in and steal a free lunch. We always had good food in the house, open 24/7.
 
L-R: Jay, Atin, Vishal, Divya, Nigam, Alok, Nipun
The University Park campus of the Pennsylvania State University was a popular choice for the engineering graduates from India.
There were more than 500 Indian students on campus. There were also plenty of mid-age Indian professors who bonded well with the student community and supported generously with research scholarships. The tradition at PSU was that each incoming Indian student at the University was assigned a student mentor who would answer the pre-arrival queries, make arrangements for temporary accommodation on arrival and ensure that things like opening a bank account, signing the apartment lease were taken care of. Bhumika chose Nipun to be her mentor.
“Hi, my name is Bhumika Patel,” a long pause, “uh…from Ahmedabad. This message is for Nipun Patel. I wish to come to Pennsylvania State University for MS in computer engineering. I got your contact from the college website. Like you, I am a Patel from Ahmedabad and so I thought I should talk to you before coming. Please contact me. My email is..,”. The answering machine went silent after her message was heard by everyone in the apartment.
All eyes in the room turned to Nipun. He had just returned home and the first thing he did was hit the answering machine, as if he was expecting this message.  “You guys don’t even check the messages!” he complained. It was customary that the first person who returned home would play the messages. On that day, all of us were at home but no one checked the messages. We were busy in the kitchen cooking Pav-Bhaji.
“Bhaiyo, you lucky guy,” said Divya, “a Patel girl, that too from Ahmedabad.”
“You anyways wanted to marry a Patel!” I teased Nipun, reminding him of what he had once said to me.
Vishal reminded Nipun of the Penn State ‘Indian’ culture of helping the incoming students. “Bhaiyo, make sure that you reply soon,” instructed Vishal who always behaved as if he was the head of the family.
Nipun didn’t look too interested in the call. He had better things to do; the most important was getting a scholarship to pay for his college tuition. The second priority was finding a ‘female, American, Undergrad,’ dance partner each week (Apparently no girl wanted to partner him the second time). He never missed the weekend ‘Salsa’ dance lessons at the university entertainment Hub.
A week later Nipun replied. “Bhumika, Penn State is good, but not good…. I mean funding. You can come here if not getting anywhere. Ok. I have class, going now. Email later if you want information.” Nipun really had to go…to sleep.
Disappointed with the reply she wrote back, “Looks like you are not interested in helping me. Can you give me the contact of someone who can help me?” These messages were being exchanged on the incoming students’ e-groups (there was no Facebook then).
Soon, she was flooded with replies from the other Indian guys at Penn State. They had just seen her profile picture. “If she comes to Penn State she would be a serious contender for the ‘Miss University’ crown,” the guys discussed amongst themselves. She looked gorgeous. Fair complexion, sharp features, black eyes, long hair…. On first looks, anyone could have mistaken her to be a Hindi movie actress.
All of a sudden Nipun decided to respond to her queries.  He ensured that he answered all her questions. In detail.
Soon they started exchanging emails more often. Like the other Indian guys on campus, Nipun too added her to the list of friends on MSN messenger. Online chat was popular then. The students had a habit of being ‘logged in’ at all times. Chat time was well utilized; assignments and project reports were prepared in between the chats. Bhumika had messages blinking on her desktop, non-stop, one after another. Guys kept waiting for her reply. Strangely though, she would only respond to Nipun.
Divya complained, “How come she only chats with you?”
“Once Bhaiyo logs off, she logs out too,” I remarked.
“And vice-versa!” added Alok, our close friend
Nipun pretended as if he knew nothing. But deep within, he enjoyed being the chosen one. Her chemistry with him was perfect. The reactions on his face said it all.
“She’s coming!” he informed us after she told him about her admit from PSU. The excitement and happiness reflected in everything he did. ‘Bhaiyo’ became ‘Andy – The Lover Boy’. Her admission to Penn State was his biggest achievement. The reward was on its way.
A month and half passed, and the semester starting fall 2002 was fast approaching. During this period, Nipun and Bhumika got close to each other, online. He would chat with her all night and into the early hours of the morning. We would often peep-in to his laptop to check the context of their conversation. She too could be spotted online during his day hours. The time difference between India and US did not matter to them.
Nipun had already started counting days backwards. For him, the wait was getting difficult. Everything was closing in until one day. For Nipun it was doomsday.
Bhumika wasn’t coming to Penn State. She had family problems which she couldn’t share with Nipun.
“So what!” said Divya, “We shall meet her when we go to Ahmedabad in December.” Divya was also from Ahmedabad.
“Relax dude, I’ll find you a better girl in PSU,” I consoled Nipun.
Thereafter, Bhumika was rarely spotted on the messenger. Nipun would send her emails but she wouldn’t answer. He was beginning to get restless. He couldn’t call her because he had no phone number; they had always chatted online. Suddenly from ‘Bhaiyo’ to ‘Andy – The Lover Boy’ to ‘Devdas’, we never ran out of new names.
There couldn’t have been a greater co-incidence that the Hub on campus was screening the Hindi movie Devdas starring Shahrukh Khan on the Diwali weekend. Diwali, like all Indian festivals, was well celebrated by the Indians in town. On Diwali night all four of us decided to feast at the Indian Pavilion, a popular restaurant, in the company of close friends, Alok, Atin, Binu, Nigam and Prachi. Dinner was accompanied with some fine wine.
In high spirits, Binu John spoke of how much he enjoyed being with our group. We were very closely bonded – living together; cooking Sanjeev Kapoor recipes, celebrating birthdays, pillow-fights, late night discussions and debates had become a way of life.  Away from home, this was the family each one could confide in. A family by choice. We poured our hearts out that night.
Besides recounting the good experiences, it was the first time that everyone shared what they didn’t like about the others in the group. It was a day of confessions and complaints, all of which were to be forgiven and forgotten. There couldn’t have been a better occasion to do it than Diwali. Some New Year resolutions were made for the family.
While all of this was happening, Divya and I looked at each other. We were both thinking about Bhumika.
 
Celebrating Diwali, Festivals, Birthdays
“I have something to confess to Nipun,” I told the group. Almost everyone except Nipun knew what was coming. “There is no Bhumika Patel. There is only bhumikap@hotmail.com and you can login with the password ‘Bhaiyo’.”
For a moment, Nipun was stunned. But he knew me well and would not be fooled so easily. He was confident that this was just another prank. More than that, he had known Bhumika for over three months. How could she be unreal?
That night, the lights in Nipun’s room did not go off. Not because it was Diwali but because he could login as Bhumika Patel. Bhumika was a creation of the ‘family members’. A story scripted by yours truly, enacted by all.
It had all started the night when Nipun heard the message on the answering machine. Earlier in the evening, Divya ,Vishal and me were at Nigam and Prachi’s residence when we decided to play this prank with Nipun. Prachi was responsible for the messages on the answering machine. I communicated through emails. Everyone in the group could access the fictitious hotmail account. We voluntarily took turns to chat – day and night. And the profile picture was that of Bhumika Chawla, a relatively-unknown, aspiring Hindi film actress then.
Nipun lived with us for a month thereafter but was never as comfortable as he used to be. He soon moved to a different apartment.  Divya and I returned to India after graduating in December 2002. Nigam and Prachi continued to live in Penn State until Nigam got his PhD. Vishal married Aparana; they shared an apartment with Alok. Atin was the first to get a job, he moved to Microsoft in Seattle. Binu would some day return to his real family in NY.  Everyone forgot about the incident, except one person.
Six months later, in April 2003, my hotmail account was hacked.
 “I can do it too – Nipun D. Patel.”
27th July, 2009

Micky V/s Mini – Things Said When Shourya Was Born

“Another division in the Share of Wealth,” that is the first thing that I heard when the Doctor congratulated me on the birth of ‘Shourya’, our second son. I was so excited then that I did not pay serious attention to the spoken words. On after-thought I wondered as to why she would say so. I decided that the next time I meet her I shall respond, “One more creator of Wealth”. Before I could put my point across to the doctor, the pediatrician greeted me as I entered into his consulting room, “Second Time Lucky,” he said.
This was a shocker. I never expected doctors to have a gender bias.
As more wishes poured in, there were many similar statements made. From loved ones, from acquaintances and from some people who had no business to talk about it. I heard them all.
“Girls are limited liability. Gone when married. You need to give it all to the boys,” said an uncle blessed with two sons. As far as I know them, they are obedient, disciplined, caring and loving sons.  I wondered what made him say so.
“I now have a reason to work more, work harder. I need to build two empires,” Dad told Mom when he arrived home late the other night.  He had just found another good reason for putting in more hours at work.
“That’s two sixes in a row,” said one cousin. He was referring to our two sons, Maahir and Shourya.  In cricket, a “six” is the maximum number of runs that you can score in one stroke. What he meant was that we made the most from the two deliveries.
It was not long before I realized that the gender of a child is still (in the 21st Century) subjected to so many different interpretations. All of the interpretations were related to wealth; nothing that we have not heard of before. But what was surprising was that the comments were made by doctors, lawyers and industrialists, the apparently well educated, suave professionals of the modern world. These same professionals if asked in an isolated context would claim that they would never discriminate between a male child and a female child. Yet, somewhere in the deepest level of the sub-conscious there is a preference, an opinion which can be seen from what was said. It is also interesting to note that these statements were made to convey good wishes. The words were said when the person was in a positive, happy frame of mind. Hence, they would communicate the natural thoughts of the person.
We wished for a baby girl. We told Maahir that he would have a sister and we would name her ‘Mini’. But then God blessed us with ‘Shourya’.
“You didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl when he was in Mom’s Womb,” stated Maahir.
“Sorry Maahir, we thought it would be Mini but it turned out to be Mickey”, I said.
He turned to me and said, “What difference does it make papa?”.
 
(R to L) Jayesh,  Maahir and Purvi with baby Shourya
As much as we would all like to keep away from any gender bias, there are times and circumstances when we react quite the opposite, sometimes unknowingly. Perhaps the doctors who made the statements only conveyed the reactions they got from the parents and family members they came across every day. It’s time that we make a conscious effort to change the way we think. Our country (India) has always been known for gender discrimination between a male child and a female child. And this discrimination shall continue until we are prepared to accept what the three year old child said when he saw his baby brother for the first time.

Micky V/s Mini – Feedbacks

Thank you all for your valuable insights on “Micky V/s Mini”. I had earlier planned to tilte it “Boys Will Be Boys AND Girls Shall Remain Girls”. That would have sounded more like a Gender Bias and so I decided to drop that title and replace it.

Vijay’s statement on “unconscious biases being more dangerous than conscious” is very interesting. We all have our share of so called “unconscious biases” which are contrary to our basic character and beliefs. I can think of many situations in which my unconscious bias has got the better of me. Its hard to think of a remedy. For now we can only be alert.

Deven has also conveyed an important message. “No child is ever bothered about division of wealth or assets. Its only the adults who make these things important” (as can be seen from the statements made in the article). Sharing Values is certainly more important than sharing wealth

It’s true that a girl and a boy would compliment one another – girls are always more expressive while boys keep things to themselves.Its always good to have a balance. It is therefore disturbing to read Mona’s story about ‘SCORING 5 GRANDSONS’