When I grow up, I will.....

“What I want to be when I grow up?” I am sure none of us have escaped from this question. At least those of us who have had the good fortune of going to school and receiving some sort of a formal education.  This is possibly the most popular and oft repeated essay topic in primary schools of India. I was terrorized by it too. And like most of you reading this “I want to become a Doctor!” is possibly the most frightful chestnut, with the Engineers making it to a distant second in the list! (I am yet to see any child wanting to be a Cricketer or a singer or a social worker but then I digress!) However much I tried dodging the above question, I couldn’t. Not when the question carried 10 marks! The tryst with this question ended rather quickly for those lucky souls who didn’t have the ignominy of being selected to represent your school in elocution competition like yours truly was. On these occasions one had to have a loftier ambition as ‘suggested’ by the Class Teacher and I ended up as the Prime Minister on one occasion and a Nelson Mandela on the other! I also was a Soldier wanting to “save Mother India” on a few instances. By the time I was about to pass out from school the teachers after having a good look at me, my essay and my mark sheets, repeat, repeat once more,  ended up doing what the children now-a-days describe  as “lol” and “RoFL”! To cut the comedy short, I had no clue what I wanted to be and what I would eventually become. After meandering aimlessly through the college canteens and ‘cutting-class-to-watch-QSQT’ I suddenly grew up. A mandatory degree and a perfunctory PG later ended up running around like a lost ant ‘bechu da’!  

Those who know me personally and have been sending those “Happy Birthday Mate!” messages on Facebook would be quite surprised to be reading this note. I am sure they would be wondering why should somebody who is already well into his 2^nd innings of his life be thinking what I want to be when I grow up? I agree. For those who came in late, I am indeed in that phase of my life where I have graduated from being  a Shahid Afridi (See the ball and Maaro!), moved past being Virendra Sehwag (Method behind the madness) to presently being in the Rahul Dravid Zone (Outside off, don’t take risk, Leave it!) A stage where the time I have already lived is likely to be more than the time I have at my disposal to live. A time when most kids address me as ‘uncle’ rather than the ‘anna’ that I had always been. A time when a dash of philosophy is permitted; nay expected of me.

It is not so much about money alone any more. I mean, of course I need money. Truckloads of it! I still have a long way to secure the future of two Indian citizens I have been blessed with. However I now have a craving for something more than these alone. The above are a chore, a responsibility, must be carried out and will be carried out. What I am now looking forward to is stop being an automaton and for a change live the life too! Today is as good a day to possibly share with you as to what I would like to do with this one life of mine. Believe me it didn’t take me any effort to jot down this list. If I have to think as to what to do and it is not top of my mind then I am most likely to be cheating myself and you. So here goes……..

I promise to myself this day that I will sing. As much as I can. Whenever I can. Whatever #SongPlayingOnMyMind. Whether anyone likes it or not! I will sing. For life. For me!

I promise I will not die till I master reading and writing my mother tongue Tamizh/Tamil. And I refuse to die till I have read every nugget written by Mahakavi Subramania Bharathi and devour Kalki’s epic Ponniyin Selvan.

 I promise to keep myself fit and healthy. As a regular blood donor I owe this to myself and to some needy soul somewhere that I am always in a position to do so till I live. And once the umpire up there raises his dreaded finger on me to signal I am out, I want to my mortal remains to be put to use for the benefit of my fellow travelers I leave behind. Hope my heart will beat in somebody’s bosom and my eyes will continue to see this beautiful world. 

They will continue to see the beautiful world...... 

May be it was planned. Maybe it was just a coincidence. May be it is my destiny. Whatever it may be. For whatever time I have left with me on this earth, I promise to live up to the name given to me by  parents! Anand! I promise to be happy. I promise to spread happiness!

Anand!

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I don’t think I can write the Post Script to this note. One of you would possibly have to do it. Only I am sure you will call it an Obituary whenever it is written, if at all!  

Glossary

Bechu Da : Kolkata slang for Salesmen

Maaro : Hit!

Anna : Brother

Anand : Happy/Happiness

Money Ratnam!

The year was Circa 2000 AD, what was branded as the Millennium Year. As the new financial year was about to kick in, a time when we salesman types gather to commit to what is known as the 'Budget Meeting/Conference'  Given the fact that the year gone by was fairly successful one for the organization that we worked for the Auditorium in the Corporate Office was ditched and the jamboree was organized at a very well known holiday resort in Ooty. The resort then was a pioneer in the concept of Time-Share properties and was very 'upmarket'. The team gave a massive thumbs up to the management for treating us as something more than just sales data! The resort lived up to the hype. Far removed from the civilization of any type bang in the middle of the majestic Nilgiris range. PEACEFUL!. The rooms were neatly made up exuding comfort and warmth, very welcome in the cold climes. The gardens and landscape giving us paindoo types the feeling of being in ShangriLa! If there is Jannat on earth, it is here, it is here was the unanimous verdict.

Post settling down, the mandatory order for chai-n-pakoras was placed with the room service. And reality check started. Apparently the entire resort was manned by only 5-6 people to serve all the guests! Suffices to say the chai came so late that we assumed it was freshly plucked, processed and brewed exclusively for us. The pakoras we thought were being imported from Coimbatore a measly 60 odd KMs away! I also created a new record by buying packet of cigarettes for a princely  sum of Rs.250.00 while the going price for the same on the rest of the planet was a measly Rs.40.00!

We took the 'service' bravely, as bravely as maybe facing the West Indian fast bowlers on the Barbados pitch. And got on to the 'business' part of the visit. Post the initial 'hip-'hip-hurrahs' it was yours truly's responsibility to make my presentation. Barely was I past the 'Hi! Mates' when the over head projector started behaving as though it were hit by a cyclone. Once the staff were done with the Research & Development, it was decided that I was good enough to continue with the job on hand so what if the audience couldn't see my skills at Power Point. All of us have seen enough and more of these all our lives anyway! I resumed bravely with just audio to support me in my endeavor when the power failed. And the diesel for the generator was still sitting snugly in the gas station 20 kms away. The audience was temporarily denied of their entertainment and  lunch was hastily called. Lunch took a few hours coming and we all boarded the bus, conference aborted midway and resumed a day later at the auditorium at the Corporate office!

Not OK!

I had the same feeling as narrated above as I walked out of the cinema after watching O Kadhal Kanmani (OKK), the latest offering from Mani Ratnam. In business one is often quoted the dictum "Over promise, under deliver". Essentially a situation where you raise the expectations of a consumer for your product or service and then disappoint them with delivering below that benchmark. All the fluff, the window dressing, smart marketing and aggressive sales pitch, attractive offers is of zilch value when breakfast arrives at a time when you are preparing for your evening tea break!

Where are the Nayagan Days?

(For those who came in late, I am no expert on the cinema business, I am not even a Mani Ratnam regular. But I am what I am, a irregular film goer at best but a consumer. I spend my hard earned money and time to watch a film. And hence everything I say goes, for me. You may agree to disagree! Welcome) I have seen Mani Ratnam deliver classy and commercially successful films. Roja on the burning issue of terrorism in Kashmir which Bollywood had not even thought of  attempting then. I also liked Bombay which dealt with the communal couldron of those times. I liked Anjali where Ratnam showed us the trauma of a family with a mentally challenged child and showed us, the society the mirror. And then there was Nayagan, a biopic of giant proportion if there was one. I concede, Ratnam often compromised on certain elements due to commercial reasons, valid in a box office led business like any other. But he was bold, his stories relevant and timely, his scripts breaking new ground despite the compromises, introduced world class technicians and did Tamil cinema; nay Indian cinema proud. And then he made OKK! I might have peacefully sat through the film, maybe even enjoyed it if it were from a newbie filmaker. On the flip side I might not have even gone to watch it had it not been for brand Mani Ratnam. What OKK delivered was a fairly competent work from the actors on screen (Dulquer Salman and Nitya Menen are quite charming as the protagonists), brilliant cinematography by P C Sreeram, decently hummable tunes by A R Rahman. While his team delivered, Mani Ratnam disappoints. I would rather watch the rerun of his breezy Alaipayuthe made a decade+ ago! OKK! Brand Mani Ratnam over promises, under delivers! The film is supposedly delivering golden eggs at the box office.

 Money Ratnam indeed!

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PS: Nothing is heavier than the weight of expectations - Old Jungle Saying

Glossary:
Paindoo : Derogatory terms used to describe the 'villager' types.
Jannat : Heaven

chai-n-pakoras  : Tea & Tidbits