Ab Mann Nahi Hai!

 

October Junction: Some Meetings Are Different

I just finished reading October Junction by Divya Prakash Dubey. It is a story about two strangers who meet by chance at Assi Ghat in Banaras and make a pact to meet again exactly one year later.

I am a slow reader. But I finished this book in just a few hours. There are multiple reasons for that.

First, it is in Hindi. So, it is easier for me to comprehend. Second, it is an 'breezy read'. The writing is uncomplicated. For the most part, it is written the way we think. There is nothing elaborate about the language. You don't have to pause and make an effort to understand what the author is trying to say. You just keep reading.

And I like the author's writing style. This is his second book that I have read, after Musafir Cafe. One thing I have realized is that the author knows how to keep you hooked.

While reading Musafir Cafe, I had this lingering emotional yearning to know what happens to Sudha and Chander. I experienced something similar with October Junction. This time, it was Chitra and Sudeep.

There were so many things I wanted to know. What happens to them? What happens to Sudeep's company? What about Chitra's writing career? And why did the Sadhu say, "सब ठाठ पड़ा रह जावेगा, जब लाद चलेगा बंजारा।"

I must admit, I could guess or predict quite a few of these answers. Yet, the book kept me hooked. I wanted to know how things would unfold, even when I had a fair idea of what might happen.

So, the book is in Hindi, it is an easy read, and it keeps you curious about what happens next. Is that why I loved the book? Or is there something else?

Indeed, there is.

I think it is the relationship between Chitra and Sudeep.

The central characters themselves are not particularly unique. We all know a Chitra and a Sudeep. We may have met people like them in our own lives. But I am not sure we know anyone who shares a relationship like theirs.

It is friendship, but something more. It is love, but not quite the kind of love we have seen or are used to reading about.

Their first meeting is not uncommon. Several books and movies have shown two strangers meeting by chance, having a conversation, and developing a connection. There is nothing particularly extraordinary about that.

But the way Chitra and Sudeep meet again...and again, is rare.

There is something beautiful about the idea of two people living their separate lives, following their own journeys, and yet having this one meeting to look forward to. No matter what happens during the year, there is this one person, this one place, and this one date.

The settings make it even more beautiful. There is something aspirational about it all.

While reading the book, I kept wondering whether there is someone in my life whom I would want to meet in this manner. Someone I would look forward to meeting after a year, irrespective of what happens in between.

Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anyone. 

Perhaps that is what stayed with me the most. Not the story itself, but the idea of such a relationship. The possibility that two people can mean so much to each other without necessarily fitting into the conventional definitions of friendship or love.

And then there are some lines that I loved.

"बनारस आते बहुत लोग हैं लेकिन पहुँच कम लोग पाते हैं।"

I found this particularly beautiful. There is a difference between visiting a place and truly arriving there. Perhaps that is true not just for Banaras, but for people and relationships too.

"बनारस चढ़ने में टाइम लगता है।"

Some places grow on you. Perhaps some people do too.

"आस-पास देखकर पता ही नहीं चलता कौन कितने आँसू लेकर भटक रहा है।"

This is such a simple observation, yet so true. We meet people, talk to them, laugh with them, and rarely know what they are carrying within themselves.

And then there is a quote from Haruki Murakami's Kafka on the Shore that I kept thinking about:

"But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about."

Perhaps that is also what October Junction is about. People moving through life, going through their own storms, changing along the way, and meeting each other at different points in their journeys.

I don't know whether I loved the book because of its story, its characters, its writing, or simply because it made me yearn for a relationship like the one Chitra and Sudeep share.

Perhaps a little bit of everything.

But I do know one thing. I finished the book in a few hours, and yet I continued thinking about it long after I had turned the last page.

And for me, that is always a good reason to like a book.

When Two Become One

Read these lines (in the image above) in a book that I am reading. And it got me thinking...

“Till death do us part,” they say. But perhaps death can only part those who remain two separate beings.

When you spend a lifetime searching for that missing half of yourself, and one day you find it in another person, something extraordinary happens. That person ceases to be merely someone you love; they become a part of who you are.

And how can death take away someone who has become a part of your very existence?

Death may take away their physical presence, their voice, their touch, but it cannot take away the part of you that is now them.

So perhaps love was never about being together until death. It was about becoming so much a part of each other that even death loses its power to separate.

आधा तू, आधी वो। और जो तुम्हारे भीतर बस गया, वो भला तुम्हें छोड़कर कहाँ जा सकता है?

Good Night!

This is a good change that I have managed to bring in me. During my consulting days, I used to sleep for only 3-4 hours on an average and that too used to be quite disturbed sleep. It took a toll. However, I finally started to work on it and slowly but gradually, I have managed to improve my sleep significantly. Hope I am able to keep it this way!

There Are Chinks in Everyone’s Armour

Maybe a late realization, but increasingly I am beginning to feel that nobody's life is as perfect as it appears from a distance.

There are people I have looked at and thought, what a wonderful life they must be having. They seem to have everything - success, happiness, means & resources. But when you get a little closer, you often realize that the reality is somewhat different. Everyone has their own issues, their own struggles, something that is not working out, something they are unhappy about. Things that they have completely faked or lied about. Things that are not visible from the outside.

The same is true of people we admire for their abilities. I have come across people whom I thought were exceptionally confident, talented, skilled and good at what they do. But after getting to know some of them better, I realized that they too have their limitations. Some are remarkably good at certain things and surprisingly poor at others. And I am sure the same is true of me. Perhaps we all carry a certain facade, knowingly or unknowingly. And in this world of Instagram and LinkedIn, where everyone puts forward their best side, that facade becomes even more convincing.

I don't mean to take anything away from anyone. Some people are undoubtedly more successful, more talented and more accomplished than others and kudos to them for that. But perhaps the mistake is in assuming that because someone has got a few things wonderfully right, they must have got everything right. The more I see, the more I realize that there are chinks in everyone's armour. We just don't see them until we get a little closer.

Nothing… Just Life…

Apparently, we've discovered the ultimate answer to every question. Just three magical words that say absolutely nothing while pretending to explain everything.

“Doctor, why am I having these terrible headaches?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why did Kattappa kill Baahubali?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why does the Sun rise from East?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why is your work delayed?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why have you changed so much as a person and friend?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why are you not honoring your professional commitments?”

“Nothing… just life…”

“Why do you think EVERYONE but you are at fault?”

“Nothing… just life…”

Brilliant, isn't it? Three words, endless applications, zero clarity.

Who knew avoiding a question could sound so philosophical?

Nothing… just life…

Here We Go Again...

For some reason, it is happening again. 

Though I had promised myself that I would not give unwarranted suggestions, the day before I ended up giving one. It was not to point fingers or rub it in. It was merely out of concern for either party (I am not one of the parties). Like almost always, the suggestions were aggressively discarded. I did not say anything and walked away.

I called up twice that evening. Once to check something and once because I genuinely needed a help. The calls were not received. No message. No call back.

Yesterday, a call was received. It was only to ask me to do something (though I know it would not be accepted, but I know the call was only because of 'business' reasons. I know the tone as well as modus operandi).

Then, no conversations throughout the day. Since my calls had gone unanswered, I was not in the mood either.

I did say bye (I don't know why), but was met with some attitude.

Hmmm.

It is okay then...

When Personal Equations Overshadow Collective Interests

One thing that I have always found difficult to understand is how some people allow their personal egos to come in the way of their professional responsibilities, commitments and relationships.

I find this rather strange and, frankly, extremely unprofessional.

Differences between people are inevitable. We are all individuals with our own personalities, opinions, beliefs and ways of working. It is neither possible nor necessary for colleagues to be friends or get along with everyone. In fact, even two good friends may not necessarily have a cordial working relationship. If two people have an issue with each other, ideally, they should make an effort to resolve it. If that is not possible, the least they can do is ensure that their differences do not affect their work, their commitments or the people around them.

The world of sports offers some interesting examples.  Over the years, we have heard stories about alleged differences between some of the biggest names in cricket. There have been reports and speculation about relationships between Sunil Gavaskar and Kapil Dev, Steve Waugh and Shane Warne, Virat Kohli and Rohit Sharma, and even Harmanpreet Kaur and Smriti Mandhana. 

I must clarify that I have no way of knowing how much truth there is in these stories. Some may have been exaggerated, some may have been entirely speculative, and some may have had an element of truth.

But that is not really the point.

What matters is that, irrespective of whatever differences may or may not have existed, these players have made significant contributions to their teams. Their professional achievements remind us that personal equations need not necessarily come in the way of collective responsibilities.

And that, to me, is an important lesson.

There is, however, another example from sports that illustrates what can happen when personal differences come in the way of collective interests. Leander Paes and Mahesh Bhupathi were once among the most formidable men's doubles combinations in international tennis. They brought tremendous recognition to Indian tennis and gave millions of Indians reasons to celebrate. Unfortunately, their partnership was also marked by well-documented differences. Their disagreements contributed to repeated splits, and although they did reunite at different points, the partnership never enjoyed the continuity that one would have hoped for. 

One can only wonder what more they might have achieved together had their differences been managed differently. This is not to question the extraordinary achievements of either player, both of whom have contributed immensely to Indian tennis, but to reflect on what might have been possible had their partnership continued uninterrupted.

The breakdown of such a successful partnership illustrates how unresolved differences can sometimes come at a cost that extends well beyond the individuals involved.

And this is precisely what happens in organizations too.

When two colleagues have differences, the consequences are not always limited to those two individuals. Work gets delayed. Decisions are held up. Communication becomes selective. Other colleagues are sometimes forced to take sides. People who have absolutely nothing to do with the original disagreement find themselves caught in the middle. At times, even commitments made to customers, colleagues and other stakeholders get compromised.

And for what? To prove a point? To protect one's ego? To demonstrate that one person does not need the other?

I find it difficult to understand how any of these considerations can become more important than the responsibilities one has accepted as a professional. What people often fail to realize is that by allowing personal differences to influence their professional conduct, they may end up hurting not just the other person, but the larger team, the organization and, ultimately, their own credibility.

The ability to work with someone despite personal differences is not a sign of weakness or compromise. On the contrary, I believe it reflects maturity, self-confidence and a sense of responsibility.

Of course, this does not mean that people should tolerate disrespect, unethical behavior or an unhealthy working environment. There are situations where differences are serious and need to be addressed formally. But even in such circumstances, there are professional ways of dealing with the situation without unnecessarily compromising the interests of others. There is nothing wrong with deciding to stop working together or even parting ways, provided the decision is handled thoughtfully, at an appropriate time and without unnecessarily disrupting the work or affecting others.

Commitments must still be honoured. Responsibilities must still be fulfilled. And the larger interests of the team and the organization must never become subordinate to personal egos.

After all, the true test of professionalism is not how well we work with people we like, but how responsibly we work with people we do not particularly get along with.

I Need You Bajrang Bali!

Class 10 Boards: Parents in Panic, Student Unfazed!

Nothing Is Going Right!

Some days, even the strongest hearts feel lost. 🥺💔 But as long as we have each other, there’s still a little hope left for tomorrow. ❤️‍🩹✨

The Great Bed Encroachment!

Hamaare Plot Par Kabzaa Ho Gaya!!

Drishyam The Conclusion: Loved It

Dimpy & Vini went in with slightly low expectations, having already watched the Malayalam Drishyam 3 and not particularly loved it. But Drishyam – The Conclusion had other plans. 🍿🔥

A completely different story, a completely different game - and this time, Vijay Salgaonkar edges past not only the law but also Georgekutty!! ♟️😎

Loved it! ❤️🎬

P.S. Dimpy’s only predictable plotline was the snacks. 🍿🥟🍟🥤

Playing with FIRE!

Our Typical Roadtrips!

Har Har Mahadev!

Hyderabad ➝ Pune ➝ Trimbakeshwar ➝ Pune ➝ Hyderabad. 🚗❤️

Miles driven, memories made, Mahadev’s blessings received. 🙏🔱

Bubu & Dudu’s little road trip with one very important mission — accomplished. ❤️

Har Har Mahadev! 🕉️

Mauke Pe Chauka!!

The Deception!!

Promotion!!

Tumse Na Ho Paayega...

Blaming Each Other

Our Own 'Chucky'!

Sweets Monster!

Ganpati Bappa Morya

Chatterbox!

 

Toothache!!

God Save Us!

Crime Scene: The Case of the Muddy Footprints!

Vini walks in like a superstar, leaving muddy footprints behind. Dimpy is just one footprint away from becoming a crime documentary! 🧹😤

Good News, Not a Miracle!

Aanu has good news, but Papa Vini is hoping for good grades! 📚 Turns out, passing every subject would require divine intervention. At least Aanu gets full marks for honesty! 🤣

Dimpy's Ideal Moving Outing!

Helping With Household Chores...

Helping with household chores is so satisfying! Some lessons:

- Always focus on quality and not quantity!

- Take up the difficult task and do it perfectly!

- Let others finish the smaller tasks!

Dil Hai Chhota Sa....Chhoti Si Aasha...

Dimpy Jong Un!

Dear Shrehaan...

Dear Shrehaan,

I heard that you have decided to take a break from cricket after what happened with the team selection. I can understand why you are disappointed. When you have worked hard, performed well and believe you have earned your place, it hurts to see someone else get the opportunity, especially when you feel the decision was not entirely based on merit.

But I hope you won't allow one such decision to make a much bigger decision for you.

There is something I learnt long ago which I think is worth remembering, not just in cricket but in life: focus on the controllables. Your fitness, your bowling, your accuracy, your pace, your attitude, your discipline and how hard you practise are in your hands. Who gets selected, who has influence and what happens in a selection meeting are not. Don't give the things outside your control the power to take away something you love.

Unfortunately, you will encounter unfairness from time to time, in cricket and outside it. Sometimes someone less deserving will get an opportunity ahead of you. I am reminded of an incident involving Vinod Kambli. After a domestic season in which he had scored a mountain of runs at an excellent average, he was still left out of the Indian team. Ajit Wadekar, the West Zone selector, had assumed that Kambli's performances made his selection certain, so he proposed Sairaj Bahutule's name instead, hoping to get another West Zone player into the side. To Wadekar's surprise, Kambli was ultimately omitted. Kambli had done what was in his control, scored the runs, yet the opportunity still didn't come. Sometimes, unfortunately, that is sport, and that is life.

And then there is Pravin Tambe, whose story tells us something different. For decades he played club cricket in Mumbai without getting an opportunity at the first-class level. Most cricketers would have given up long before, but Tambe kept playing and working at his game. At 41, an age by which most professional cricketers have retired, he was picked by Rajasthan Royals and went on to make his mark in top-level T20 cricket. Rahul Dravid later spoke admiringly about Tambe's persistence and his willingness to keep working despite years without recognition. His story is a wonderful reminder that you never quite know when your opportunity will come. The important thing is to still be there, working and ready, when it does.

And please don't let your height make you doubt whether you can be a fast bowler. Ramakant Desai, one of India's finest fast bowlers of his time, stood only about 5 feet 4 inches tall and was nicknamed "Tiny". Yet he bowled with genuine pace and could trouble international batsmen with his bouncers. On his Test debut against the West Indies, he took four wickets, including those of the great Garry Sobers and Rohan Kanhai. His height did not decide what kind of bowler he could become. He did.

Your physique cannot and must not define your destiny. If it did, B. S. Chandrasekhar, whose bowling arm had been affected by childhood polio, Tiger Pataudi, who played international cricket despite severely impaired vision in one eye, and Martin Guptill, who lost three toes in an accident as a teenager, could never have achieved what they did. They adapted to what they had rather than allowing what they lacked to decide how far they could go.

Even outside cricket, Leander Paes was relatively short by the standards of top men's tennis, at about 5 feet 10 inches. Yet he became World No. 1 in doubles and had an extraordinary career for India. What he may have lacked in physical stature, he more than made up for through skill, speed, anticipation, determination and sheer competitiveness.

Sport has never been only about having the ideal physical dimensions. Your height may influence the kind of fast bowler you become, but it does not decide how good that bowler can be. Learn what works for you. Develop your strengths. Keep getting fitter, stronger and more skilful.

So take a little time if you need it. Be disappointed if you need to be. But don't quit because somebody else made a decision you couldn't control. If you eventually decide that cricket is not for you, let that decision be yours, made for the right reasons. Don't let an unfair selection make it for you.

You have already shown that you can perform. There will be setbacks, and there will be more opportunities. Keep working, keep learning and make sure that when the next opportunity comes, you are ready for it.

I am always rooting for you. We all are!

With lots of love,

Vini Mama

Prayer of a Mother

Missing Her

 

Missing the Moment

Just got a feeling that probably I seldom live in the moment. I always get ahead of myself. 

When watching a good movie, I start thinking about the blog that I would write about it. When I visit a beautiful location, I start thinking about how should I capture the moment with a camera, what angles and framing to use and how I would post the picture on Instagram. 

Even when I am loaded with work, while working on on task, I start thinking of what next and how I will finish all the tasks. 

If my daughter tells me about a hobby, I start thinking about how to help her hone that skill instead of truly listening to her and appreciating her excitement. 

I am not even sure whether this is a manufacturing defect only in my case or do others suffer from it too.

I want to but I do not know how to take a pause and live in the moment. Cherish the moment. Maybe the irony is that I spend so much time thinking about how to preserve a moment that I forget to actually experience it. 

Need to change this.

An Idea Can Change Your Life!

Usual Nautanki

Begging for Better English!

My Daughter....Truly!!

Let Go

 

Competence Is Revealed in the Small Things

Poor management or administration is rarely about one big mistake. More often, it shows up in the way small, everyday issues are handled.

Take a simple facilities issue from a fictional office. The air conditioning in one section of the office has not been working since last few days. The section is too warm to work comfortably, but since only 2-3 people are affected, fixing it doesn't seem to be a priority. There are no proactive updates from the administration team either. The only way to know what's happening is to keep asking for a status every day. 

That is poor administration.

To be able to work comfortably, one of the employees - who cannot stand the hot temperature - booked an available conference room through the proper process. However, he is asked to vacate it for a meeting that was never booked (it was requested by the attendees but was never booked by the Admin Manager). He is asked to move to another room, even though that room isn't available for the required duration.  

At that point, the broken AC is no longer the real problem. The conference room isn't either. It is about competence and professionalism...or the lack of it.

Good administration requires promptly addressing workplace issues, adhering to established procedures, keeping everyone posted, and proactively suggesting workarounds. Professionalism is not measured only by how organizations and people respond to major challenges. It is reflected in how they handle the small ones. 

Perhaps that is asking for too much.

It Was Never About Two Cans of Soda

Some lessons stay with you for life. This one is from my time at a Big 4 consulting firm...almost in a previous life!

When I joined the company, we underwent extended training. These were 'residential' trainings, as we were put up (or locked up) in a 5-star hotel. Partners from the US flew down to India to train us on consulting skills and other aspects of consulting. While it was an extremely tough training and I was overawed by some of the most intelligent and capable individuals, I found the experience extremely helpful and enriching.

While most of the trainers were Partners, there was one Partner who arrived only after a few days, and everyone, in a way, warned us about him. He was ex-military - Navy, if I remember correctly - and rode a Harley-Davidson to the office back in the US. He was a tall, heavily built man (I beat him on this front), with an intimidating personality.

We were told that he trained new joiners from premier Business Schools who had joined the company, and several of them reconsidered their decision to join on the very first day of training. Some even quit. He had a commanding presence, and no one took him lightly.

When he finally arrived and entered the large banquet hall, which served as our training room, there was pin-drop silence. Even the other Partners were quiet, and some of them looked intimidated.

What chance did we have?

In his opening address, he promised to be a little lenient with us, as he did not know much about Indian culture. He jokingly (though his expression did not suggest so) said that he would not be as harsh as he was with new joiners in the US because he was scared that someone here might stab him and get away with it! Maybe a slightly racist comment, but everyone managed a nervous smile.

Among the several things that were noticeable about him, one was that he always had a can of Diet Pepsi in his hand, or at least within reach. During one of the dinners, someone asked him about it.

He then shared an insightful incident about a consultant who had been tasked with organizing a client lunch. The responsibilities were straightforward: select a fine-dining restaurant, book a table, and arrange a pre-decided customized menu. The lunch was to be attended by the Partner, a Senior Manager, the consultant, and the client.

The Partner did not have any specific food preferences, but in response to the consultant's email, he made one very specific request: 2 cans of Diet Pepsi.

On the day of the meeting, when lunch was served, the Partner noticed that there were two cans of Diet Coke instead.

The Partner did not say a word during lunch. No complaints. No visible annoyance.

Afterwards, however, he 'suggested' that the Senior Manager should fire the consultant.

The Senior Manager was understandably surprised.

"You really want me to fire a young guy over two cans of soda?"

The Partner's response was calm and unequivocal.

"It is not about the soda. It is about following instructions, especially written instructions. If someone cannot get something this simple right, I do not think you can trust him with critical tasks on a client project."

The Senior Manager disagreed. It was a brave call. In the world of consulting, very few people disagree with a Partner, especially Senior Managers, who need the support of existing Partners to become Partners themselves.

The consultant was not fired.

The Partner did not ask again. Life moved on. Everyone eventually forgot about the incident.

A few months later, however, the Partner received a call from the Senior Manager. He admitted that he should have listened and had finally realized the wisdom in the Partner's approach.

The realization unfortunately had come a little too late...only after the consultant had screwed up on a large and significant project. The issue was caused by non-adherence to instructions.

Eventually, the consultant was let go.

That story has stayed with me ever since.

Of course, everyone makes mistakes. A single oversight should not define a person. However, the ability to foresee a larger issue from a seemingly trivial incident, and the courage to act on that conviction, is what sets exceptional leaders apart.

Attention to detail. Respect for instructions. Discipline in execution. These are not merely 'good-to-have' qualities. They are the foundation of trust.

The lesson was never about two cans of soda.

It serves as a reminder of the importance of attention to detail and the discipline of following instructions, no matter how trivial they may seem. The small things often reveal how someone approaches the big things. It also underscores the critical role that clear communication and adherence to processes and guidelines play, not just in consulting, but in any profession.

Clarity

The future is unclear. It is dark, full of uncertainties. Because of that, most people hesitate to leave one place in search of another. Some, like yours truly, do not even know where to go or whether something good, or even just okay, is waiting on the other side.

I am tired. I am confused. I am scared. 

Still, there is something that makes leaving easier. It is not certainty about where you are headed. It is clarity about where you no longer want to remain. A decision becomes easier when, even without knowing where you will go, you know you do not want to stay.

So today, after sitting with the thought for over a month, I finally got up...to leave. Your company. Your people.

My Daughter Fell Sick. My Reputation Never Recovered.

In a recent blog (At the Mercy of a Six-Year-Old), I narrated how, for a week in 2017, my sister and I were left at the mercy of my 6-year-old daughter by my wife, who had to leave for our hometown to a family medical emergency. I talked about how my sister and I were tormented by Ananya. But just when the ordeal was about to get over, on the penultimate day, she fell really sick.

Ananya's sickness, and how I handled the situation, earned me a reputation. Somehow, not a positive one.

Years have gone by, and I thought that much water had flowed under the bridge. But an image shared recently on the family WhatsApp group and the reactions made it clear that my image has been tarnished for life.

I think it is extremely unfair. I will tell you exactly what happened, and you tell me whether it is fair for my family to judge me like this.

So, on the penultimate day of my wife's absence, everything happened as it had happened the entire week. I woke Ananya up in the morning, helped her get ready for school, gave her coupons for breakfast and lunch, dropped her at the bus stop, worked from home, picked her up from the bus stop after school, arranged snacks for her, and went back to finish the rest of my office work.

Though on most days I worked till late, that day I put my laptop aside around 7 PM and decided to take her to the playground in our apartment complex. It was the last day before the devil arrived, so I wanted to spend some time with Ananya.

Ananya spent an hour there, after which we came back to our flat. She went to change her clothes while I got busy with the zillions of household chores that I did not even know existed till a week before. After changing clothes, Ananya went to the living room to watch TV.

After some time, I noticed that Ananya had become awfully quiet. Never a good sign with her.

I asked if she was okay, and she nodded. I asked if she was tired and wanted to have something. She said yes to the first and no to the second.

I thought she must be tired and got busy with the work. During that entire week, everything in the house had happened smoothly, like a well-oiled machine. Because I was in-charge. I was feeling proud of myself.

After some time, I checked on Ananya once again. She was just lying there, with eyes barely open and it seemed as though there wasn't even a milligram of energy left in her body.

I immediately put everything aside and went to her. I sat beside her, like only a father can. I hugged her and asked her what was wrong. As soon as I touched her, I realized she had a fever. I could make out that it was quite high. 

I calmly but briskly walked (not ran) to the bedroom and took out the thermometer. For the first time, it was exactly where it was supposed to be. After all, the house was under my watch.

I immediately checked her temperature. I do not recall the exact reading, but I think the thermometer, without mincing any words, screamed at me that I was screwed!!

I thought of calling my wife but stopped myself because she was already attending to a family medical emergency. See, that's the hallmark of a true leader during a crisis. Never overreact. And in any case, there was very little she could have done sitting 1,600 kilometers away. In fact, there was very little she could have done sitting in the same room. Unlike me, not everyone can remain calm and composed during a crisis.

I decided that the best option was to take Ananya to her pediatrician, whose clinic was about 6 kilometers away.

I was about to grab the car keys and lift Ananya into my arms when I was reminded of my sister. She usually came home late from the office, but in case she came home early that day, she would not have the keys. Even during a crisis, I did not forget that. Another demonstration of an uncluttered mind and clarity of thought.

I called my sister and asked what time she would get home. She said it would take some time but asked why I was so politely and calmly enquiring about it. I explained the whole situation to her.

Strangely, she first asked me to calm down (!!!) and said that she would come as quickly as possible, but it would still take at least 45-60 minutes because of the distance and traffic. She suggested that I call my wife and ask what should be done. Hunh! Such a pointless suggestion.

While I knew that it was quite unnecessary, I immediately called my wife and told her everything. Strangely, she also asked me to calm down! What was wrong with both of them!

Surprisingly, my smartwatch was also saying that my heart rate was 150! Technology isn't always reliable. Thankfully, Samsung watches in 2017 did not measure stress levels, or it would have claimed that I was extremely stressed! 

Yeah right! 

Everyone and everything had gone bonkers! I, fortunately, had not.

My wife told me about a medicine that I could give Ananya and said that if the fever did not start coming down within 30-40 minutes, I should take her to the pediatrician. She was merely stating the obvious.

I had a tough time locating the medicine and called my wife a couple of times. Eventually, without much support, I managed to find it. I gave Ananya something light to eat, and after that, I gave her the medicine.

Afterwards, I monitored her temperature through touch and with the thermometer at perfectly reasonable intervals. About every five minutes.

In between, just to keep everyone updated, I called my wife, my sister, and my parents few times. I kept applying cold compresses to her forehead and neck in an attempt to bring the fever down.

The fever did not come down even after 40 minutes, but strange new symptoms started to appear.

Palpitations.

Dryness in the throat.

Uneasiness in the chest.

Difficulty breathing.

Strangely and thankfully, none of these new symptoms were experienced by the patient. They were all happening to the caregiver.

I do not know why....because I was like...calmness personified.

I called my sister and was relieved... I mean... it was good to know that she was just 10-15 minutes away. We decided that we would go to the pediatrician as soon as she arrived.

Fifteen to twenty minutes later, my sister reached home. She took stock of the situation. We checked Ananya's temperature once again. It had come down slightly but was still quite high.

The other symptoms - palpitations, dryness in the throat, uneasiness in the chest, and difficulty breathing - had increased, though.

My sister must have silently thanked God that I was there to take care of everything. Deep inside, she must have felt immensely proud of how I had handled the situation.

But, not someone who shows appreciation easily, she looked at me in a strange manner and asked me to drink some water. I did not understand that. Women can say anything. There was no time to try and comprehend all that.

She called my wife and asked her not to worry. But then she made a strange remark. While speaking to my wife, she said that she was not sure whom to take to the hospital first.

I do not know what she meant, but she probably said that to lighten the mood.

We took Ananya to the pediatrician, who also strangely asked me to calm down. Women!! She prescribed a few medicines and sent us away.

With those medicines, the fever came down. Ananya had a light dinner and went to sleep. I checked her temperature several times during the night with a non-contact infrared thermometer.

The next morning, the fever returned. We gave her medicine after a light breakfast, and the fever slowly retreated.

In the afternoon, my wife returned home, and I handed over charge to her.

On the day Ananya fell sick, I, of course, handled everything brilliantly. I did not ask for appreciation, a medal, or the Bharat Ratna, though I deserved all of them. 

Something baffles me, though.

During that period, I do not know why my watch kept alerting me that my heart rate was too high, why I kept having palpitations and all the other symptoms, why everyone kept asking me to calm down, or why my sister remarked that she was not sure whom to take to the hospital first.

Mysteries of life.

When my wife returned, my sister joked about how I had panicked, and they both laughed. It was absolutely not true, but being a magnanimous person who doesn't mind others laughing at his expense, I let it go.

But yesterday, my wife posted a picture on the family WhatsApp group (see a slightly modified version below) and asked everyone if the family in the picture was an accurate depiction of the three of us.

Everyone agreed. They said that the family was indeed like us. More specifically, they insisted that the brown bear in the background was exactly like me and how I behave in such situations.

Completely unfair, isn't it?

(Note: This is the image that my wife shared on the family WhatsApp group. I have slightly modified it by adding the names.) 

Three Cousins, Old Monk and One Unmovable Wall

As mentioned in a recent blog post (The Real 'Darr' Was Outside the Theatre), during my growing up years, a large part of my extended family lived in Patna. Several of my Buas and Phuphas, along with countless cousins, used to live there. Hence, school vacations and college term breaks often involved a trip to Patna. 

While I was in school, a trip to Patna meant large family gatherings, games, cricket, good food, ice creams and endless stories. When I was in college, there was another addition to the list of fun activities.

Drinking sessions!

I was thinking about when I first had alcohol and was reminded of a night in Patna. But, before I talk about that night, I have a confession. Or rather, a declaration.

I was actually introduced to alcohol when I was a toddler!

My father served in the Indian Army, and we used to attend frequent parties at the Officers' Mess. Handling a restless toddler who simply would not sit in one place must have been tiring and testing for my parents, especially my mother. So, as soon as we reached the Mess, my parents would hand me over to one of the young officers. Being a former beauty pageant winner (actually, a 'Healthy Baby Contest' winner), I was quite popular among them. I was called "Vini Master." 

During these parties, one officer or another would carry the toddler version of me, and I would often take a sip or two from their glasses. My parents used to get really angry with those officers, but somehow I would manage to get tipsy by the end of each party.

I had actually developed a drinking problem at that age because, once, I took several gulps of soy sauce simply because the bottle resembled a beer bottle, specifically Golden Eagle Lager Beer! I had probably become used to the bitterness of alcohol because, around that age, I ate and drank several unusual things. These included a few cigarettes, an entire bottle of Liv 52 medicine, and even a small torch bulb!

Thankfully, compulsive eating or drinking of weird stuff stopped with age. 

(Compulsive eating did not!)

Coming back to that night in Patna. It was the first time I had alcohol as a teenager. The first time in the age group of 3 to 17 years. I had still not reached the legal drinking age.

Honestly, I do not recall the exact year, but I do not think I had reached the first year of B.Com yet. By the time I joined B.Com, I had started drinking regularly, so this must have been 1996. If it was indeed 1996, I was 16.

Unlike other visits, I had gone to Patna alone and my parents were not there. That meant even more freedom. No one to ask uncomfortable questions. 

One of my cousins (the same cousin from the 'Darr' story) used to stay outside the city.  His parents were either away or were spending the night at another relative's house. That meant the house was available for a party. Let us call this cousin - 'Dude'.

A plan was put together, and another cousin (lets call him 'Captain') was invited. I do not think they asked me whether I had had alcohol before. But even if they had, I would have said, "Of course!" After all, who wants to show weakness in front of friends and elder cousins?

Alcohol and snacks were arranged. I do not recall the brand, but I would not be surprised if it was the legendary dark rum - 'Old Monk'.  

The three of us - Dude, Captain and me - met at Dude's place. The house was outside the city, with a canal flowing in front of it (not visible from the house) and farmland behind it. We arranged everything in Dude's room on the first floor of the independent duplex house.

We started drinking post sunset. I do not remember the exact time, but I remember that it was dark outside. Patna is in eastern India, and it gets dark fairly early there.

I was worried about getting drunk and creating a scene. If I did that, it would become clear that I am a novice. So I kept telling myself to act cool and stay in control, or at least give that impression. The last thing I wanted was to puke after drinking because that would have meant endless ridicule. The problem was, I had no idea how to prevent that.

After the second peg, I felt my ears getting a little warm. Apart from that, there was no other effect. We talked about past incidents, funny stories, girls, cricket and everything under the...moon!

A couple more drinks followed. I was still waiting for something to happen while also hoping that nothing would happen!

By then, I had started feeling quite warm. I asked Dude if we could open the windows. He said it was not a good idea because it would invite an entire army of mosquitoes from the open farmland behind the house. Note: Air conditioners were quite uncommon in middle class homes back then.

It was getting quite unpleasant.

My cousins noticed my discomfort but told me I was paying too much attention to it. I stopped complaining because I thought it was probably a sign that drinks were having an impact on me. But, apart from feeling warm, I was absolutely normal. Even my cousins looked perfectly normal.

After some time, the small room, filled with three over-energetic boys, booze, snacks and cigarettes, became quite stuffy. My cousins started feeling it too.

At this point, Dude announced that the room felt stuffy because the room was "too small". I did not know how to react because it was a rather pointless observation. But to honor his 'analysis', I smiled or perhaps laughed a bit. 

We moved on to discuss other things.

A few minutes later, Dude repeated the same observation. Not in the exact same words, but he again pointed out that the room was simply too small for comfort.

Then he came up with a brilliant suggestion.

He suggested that we should 'push the walls' away to make the room bigger! 

I could only manage an awkward smile. To my surprise, Captain got up and said we should try that. Encouraged by the support, Dude walked up to one of the walls and started pushing it. 

His room had a wardrobe on one wall, two windows (one on either side of the bed) on another wall, another window and a door on the third wall. The wall opposite his bed had the main entrance to his room. It was plain and the largest. 

He chose that wall and started trying to push it away! I was sure that he was kidding. However, soon, Captain joined him too!! 

I was completely clueless and had no idea how to react. I simply stood there with a confused smile while watching them. They looked genuinely happy and were on a mission.

Dude asked me to join them. 

I did not want to ask questions or interrupt whatever they were trying to do. So I put down my glass and joined them. I chose the opposite end of the wall and pretended to push. 

At one point, Dude declared that we have succeeded a little...but only a little. Captain agreed. I reluctantly nodded.

I was thinking what exactly were they trying to achieve. There was no way they could be serious. May be they were playing a prank. Maybe this was their way of checking how drunk I was and how I reacted to ridiculous ideas. I was convinced that a loud 'GOT YOU!!' was just around the corner. 

I became cautious and slowly started withdrawing from this "fun activity".

Soon, both of them said that it was not working and stopped pushing the wall. That was a relief. I was happy that I had not fallen into their trap and equally happy that this bizarre activity had finally come to an end.

I picked up my glass and was just about to sit down on the bed when it happened.

I realized that Dude was sad because his efforts had not made any significant changes....YET. But, he was not a quitter. 

Just as I was about to sit down with my glass, I heard a loud 'Yaaaaaaaa.....' and saw Dude charging towards the wall like a spirited soldier charging at the enemy. 

The room was not large enough (that was the precise problem he was trying to solve), so the charge lasted 2-3 steps before he leapt into the air and slammed into the wall with his right shoulder! 

I was stunned by this sudden act of violence and insanity. But was it over? No, not at all.

He took 4 steps back and then repeated the charge. I do not recall whether Captain joined him, but I do remember him cheering Dude on. I think he got back to pushing the wall but I honestly do not have a memory of that. 

What I can never forget, however, is the sight of Dude 'flying' like a cannonball and crashing into the wall...again and again.

I quietly put down my glass. I realized that it was no prank and it was ACTUALLY happening. I thought that if I took few more pegs, I might start acting like that too.  

The party did not last much longer. Dude wanted to go on and on like the Duracell bunny. However, since the resources were limited back then, soon both the booze and the snacks ran out. With that, Dude's battery ran out too. 

The next morning, we discovered that Dude's efforts had not entirely gone in vain. His repeated attacks on the wall had caused significant damage...to his right arm. It was black and blue!

The thought that something similar could happen to me genuinely shook me and I did not have another drink till I passed out of...school. 

I am a teetotaler now, but but there was a phase in my life when I drank heavily. Thankfully, though, I have never tried to make a room bigger after a few drinks!