एक ऐसे गगन के तले

I have had a strange relationship with sleep. All through my childhood and teenage years, I slept the sleep of the dead. We used to live in a university campus in New Delhi (JNU) and our house was on the landing path for flights to the international airport. Air traffic would intensify during night time with several jets flying low and their drone would drown all other sounds. Conversations - in person or over telephone - would cease while they passed overhead. Each night, I would get into bed and flip through my favourite bed time reading, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, presented to me on my 10th (?) birthday by my gifted cousins (alluded to in my previous post)...and slowly transport myself to a mysterious world. And once I was asleep not even the closest, loudest of these big flying machines could penetrate the depths of my slumber. I will reluctantly admit that this book has continued to be my bedside companion well into the 30s and I still sometimes find myself flipping through the fascinating adventures of Mr. Holmes of Baker Street!


I first experienced insomnia during my Masters programme when a spat with one of my professors - what I considered to be of a purely academic nature - rapidly turned ugly and almost cost me my place in the institute. And this, despite having fairly decent grades and immersing myself in various activities intended to enhance the standing of the institute. It was an early lesson that being principled and stubborn came at a price! Some years later, as challenges at the workplace intensified to a point where my team and I were faced with unprecedented situations, I again started losing sleep. I would be up late at night either pacing the living room, or going back to my laptop. This time the insomnia lasted several years...in fact, I have never quite regained the carefree sleep of my childhood. While there have been periods during which I have slept peacefully and woken up afresh and energetic, they have never lasted too long and it takes the slightest provocation for me to lose my sleep. Even then, I continue to stubbornly evade any form of medication believing that the malady will eventually correct itself. But when I come across people that can sleep undisturbed for hours on end, I do feel a pang of envy. It has been many years since I have experienced the bliss of uninterrupted slumber...


Tonight again I know sleep will remain elusive until I am overcome by sheer exhuastion. We had spent the day browsing through shops on Orchard Street, brightly decorated for Christmas and teeming with tourists and locals. We were giving our family the quintessential Singapore retail experience...replete with a meal at the foodcourt. Till I was rudely jolted with the buzz of my cellphone which indicated that the burglar alarm had gone off at home. It took six minutes for the police to reach and another twentyfive for us to scramble home. The two policemen on call - now on a repeat visit - concluded that in all likelihood it was a false alarm triggered by some inexplicable movement. Somehow, that doesnt quite sit well. After all, the system has been activated each night for the past several weeks with no such occurrence. Coming as it did on the heels of our recent robbery, the incident will leave its mark as we seek explanations, evaluate and eliminate possibilities. The return to normalcy, slow as it was, will now be further delayed.

So here I am...the book has been replaced by the keyboard. Well, not entirely. I finished reading The Reluctant Fundamentalist by Mohsin Hamid, recently recommended by my friend who was confident I would find it engrossing - which, sure enough I did. And as I force myself to shut down the laptop, a tranquil melody fills my ears. I Google for lyrics and my wife comes to the rescue and proceeds to sing a few lines for me. Perhaps she thinks the lullaby would give me a much needed shuteye! I hope that these are the last sounds of the night...and I look forward to a new day, with new hopes and aspirations. Here are the lyrics of the famous song by Kishore da which have been ringing in my ears. May they come true...Goodnight!

Aa chal ke tujhe, main le ke chaluun ik aise gagan ke tale jahan gam bhii na ho, aansoo bhi na ho bas pyaar hii pyaar pale  Aa chal ke tujeh main le ke chaluun ik aise gagan ke tale jahan gam bhi na ho, aansoo bhi na ho bas pyaar hi pyaar pale ik aise gagan ke tale  Suraj ki pahali kiran se, aashaa kaa savera jaage (2) chandaa kii kiraN se dhul kar, ghanaghor andhera bhaage (2)  kabhi dhuup khile kabhi chhaav mile lambii sii Dagar na khale jahan gam bhi na ho, aansoo bhi na ho  bas pyaar hi pyaar pale ik aise gagan ke tale  Jahan door nazar daud aae, aazaad gagan laharaae laharaee (2) jahan rang birange panchhi, aashaa kaa sandesaa laayen (2) sapano me pali hansati ho kali jahan shaam suhaani dhale jahan gam bhi na ho, aansoo bhi na ho bas pyaar hi pyaar pale ik aise gagan ke tale  Sapano Ke aise jahan mein jahan pyaar hi pyaar khila ho  hum jaa ke vahan kho jaaye shikuva na koyi ghila ho  kahin bhair na ho koyi ghair na ho sab milke chalte chale  jahan gam bhi na ho aansoo bhi na ho bas pyaar hi pyaar pale ik aise gagan ke tale aa chal ke tujeh mein leke chaluun  ik aise gagan ke tale jahan gam bhi na ho aansoo bhi na ho bas pyaar hi pyaar pale ik aise gagan ke tale

Expectation and responsibility

Now that I have been 'at it' for a while, I realise that blogging brings with it expectations and responsibility...totally self inflicted. Of continuing what one started. Of demonstrating consistency. Of being articulate and reasonably presentable. I quickly learn that like many habits in life, it takes some effort and perseverance, certainly in the initial days.

When I started blogging earlier this month, I did not know what I wanted to achieve...whether this was a momentary surge of creativity or simply a release for pent up emotions. Maybe there was a subconscious desire to solicit acknowledgement or appreciation. I still do not know. I also dont know if this will stick with me or if I will abandon it along the way. If I look for patterns in my life, I would say my personality has evolved as it relates to acquiring habits. In my teenage years, my pursuits would be more fleeting. Yoga lasted the course of one summer vacation, and running another. While in college, I volunteered some weeks with a charitable veterinary clinic. I took away impressions, and did learn from each of those experiences...but I did not pursue them. Perhaps it had to do with my attitude towards life itself. While I had varied interests, perseverance was not a virtue I had imbibed then. In fact, laziness may not be an entirely inaccurate term for me all those years. My parents would sometimes send me to my gifted cousins who had pursued their respective callings, hoping for a ruboff. I would always marvel at their talent as I did their ability to persist with their passions. But when asked to try my hand at something, I would invariably shy away with the refrain 'it is too hard', or 'I am not capable of this'. When we get together now after all these years, this is still an oft repeated joke in our family.

Because somewhere along the way, something did change. I developed the ability to focus and to persevere. And found an innate desire to work hard. The turning point was my final year of graduation after I had pretty much lost my way in the many distractions in the north campus of Delhi University. A year of struggle subsequently to find, and obtain, what I was to call my profession changed all that. My leaning towards Indian philosophy had a definite bearing as well. I have since then learnt the value of struggle and introspection. By the time I gained admission to the Master's programme of my choice, I was able to put in 14-16 hour workdays. And when I started my professional career, this became my work ethic and remained a way of life for me for several years thereafter. I believe it was the cornerstone of much that my colleagues and I collectively achieved over the years. It was also responsible in a big way in severely jeopardising my health, which has taken a couple of years to resurrect. Suffice it to say that somewhere along the journey I learnt to persevere with my passions, to take obstacles in my stride...and to take responsibility. Responsibility for myself and for people that teamed with me and gave their very best. Importantly - when faced with challenging situations, I learnt to ask the question 'what is the RIGHT thing to do'. This question alone has served as my north star over the years. I do not claim to have got it right all along. Far from it...as I truly search for mistakes and omissions of my previous years. But I did seek to tread on the right path - right for the people and right for the organisation. And today, when sometimes I hear others who traversed some part of the journey with me ask the same question, it does provide satisfaction. But more about these experiences another day. I can fill reams of pages on my worklife in India.

Coming back to the topic at hand - I feel the weight of expectations and a sense of responsibility to continue what I started. As I said before, this is self imposed, but it exists all the same. All at once, I encounter challenges I have not faced earlier - one of which is simply...what do I write about? How often should I be blogging? Do I have anything of consequence to mention? Topics keep coming in and out of one's brain. Some funny things start to happen. I get influenced by books I read. Not just the content, but also the style. Somewhere the author enters my brain and I begin to think and write like him. And imagine the havoc I create on the keyboard when I change authors!

And so my journey continues...with no clear aim or end in sight. With no particular purpose. Will I pursue this or will it fall by the wayside along the way? As I re-read my previous lines, I am suddenly reminded of nagging and continuing inconsistencies. So I have placed a mental wager with myself. Let's see who emerges victorious...

Will something useful ever come out of my blogging?? The question twirls around in my head as my brain yet again begins the daily shutdown ritual at 3am...and I rest my weary head in anticipation of a new day!

A 5k Run

After a hiatus of three months, I finally did another run today. 36 minutes. Must say it took some work...I felt somewhat like Rahul Dravid upon his return to form yesterday with a century against England. Except that he had at least been trying the past several months with hours of net practice, domestic games and mental conditioning. I had simply been lazy...the classic excuse many people in my situation give themselves - too much travel, lack of sleep, etc.

It was a nice run, though a bit laborious as I tried to get back my rhythm and fight my nagging headache and physical inertia. Inertia from not having run for weeks and the headache I would reluctantly admit must be thanks to my gin and tonic in the afternoon. Well, at least it gave me a nice little nap while watching India play England. I am always amazed at how the one drink I treat myself to on Sunday afternoons instantly puts me to sleep...

Anyhow, the surroundings around our house are beautiful. It is very green and there are lovely water bodies in the area (what they call reservoirs here). A 10 minute run up the hill brings me to Seletar reservoir where you find people walking, jogging, fishing, taking their pets out for a stroll or simply sitting by the waterside amidst the tranquility. During weekends it is lively but never crowded or too noisy. There is something to be said about sunsets and water. As I ran alongside the water, the sun was setting amongst the clouds and the feeling was both of peace and energy...I cant quite explain how. But it did egg me on to go further than I had originally thought I could do today.

As I returned home savouring the satisfaction of having done another 5k run, I could not help thinking that if only I had been regular, I may have been able to run for over an hour today...I do harbour hopes of crossing 10k someday. But I have never been obsessive about these things. While it feels nice to be able to cross new physical boundaries, targets and milestones don't mean much to me and fail to act as a stimulant.

It just feels nice to be able to do things today that I could never do as a child or a teenager, ridden as I was with a severe asthmatic condition. My mother is actually amazed to see me this active physically. She would not have thought it possible for me to be this way. And now there is even a special something to that feeling given some of the life threatening occurrences of the not too distant past. Not that I ever intend to fight my asthma...I have decided to just befriend it.

But more about all that another day...now it is time to head out for a Shah Rukh Khan movie and show my family more of Singapore!

Many moods of Pangot...one of my favourite destinations on earth

Why do I blog?

The first coherent reason I can come up with is that it gives me an opportunity for expression. The joy of being in my little private corner. Where I have the freedom to air my thoughts without constraints. I can go where I like and when I like...I can talk about what I choose to. And then sit back and listen to myself. I have the choice to agree or disagree with myself. I can contradict myself at will. And if I get bored I can move onto something else...whatever catches my fancy.

Second, my shortcomings as a writer don't hinder me in the least. The lack of character in sentence construction or paucity of vocabulary do not inhibit. No one is passing judgement and I am not striving to meet standards set by others.

And finally, I decide who I want to invite to my little private corner. The key to ViShesh PraRambh is in my hand and I determine who comes in for a look-see. My guests are entertained with little snippets and disjointed thoughts. They have the choice to engage in dialogue...or if they feel the need for silence, to just take a leisurely walk around, stay as long as they choose and move on to wherever their wanderings take them. There is no protocol and no one takes offense. So far the list of invitees is really small...and even as my invitation stands extended, there are no takers. Never mind, I am not bothered. Cos this is still my little private corner and I have plenty to entertain myself with. Perhaps someday some of us will get together and make something of out of nothing...

Are these good enough reasons to blog...or do I search for more answers?

Unforgettable moments down under...

Cause and Effect

Back from Bintan and sleep remains elusive.

Came across an article by Tarun Tejpal. It attempts to explain recent occurences on events of the past. It questions why we are shocked when the elite are targeted but remain silent when scores of others suffer a similar fate. And it brings home an unpleasant truth...about how a generation of elites have washed their hands off our country.

I cant help but agree. Perhaps there are lessons here on character building for the upcoming generations?

The brain starts its daily shutdown ritual. And the questions remain unanswered...for another day.

Sunday morning in Bintan, Indonesia

My second attempt at blogging...as I sit in my hotel in Bintan waiting to go for breakfast.

Why does anyone blog? What prompted me to do this?? I can neither claim any computer savvy nor the gift of gab. I have never known myself to be a man of letters...at least not since I left school. Was it to find expression? Or perhaps the helplessness and anguish of seeing my country being devastated in a mindless terror attack that left so many of us speechless, shocked, bewildered...and yes, terrorised.

I cant help feeling that for the perpetrators, this was a masterstroke. The work of a creative genius - brilliantly planned, flawlessly executed. And it will be etched in the minds and hearts of people for time immemorial. This will go down in the annals as a genuine masterpiece...a new benchmark against which future attacks will be measured and compared.

I contemplate the fate of those who were there in the hotels, the hospital or the station. Those who stared down the barrel of the gun, who heard the explosions around them, who hid for hours in dark rooms and toilets and kitchens. Without a sound. Waiting for their worst nightmares to burst upon them with an unimaginable fury. And the children...who witnessed this and saw the dead, the blood and gore. This has changed their lives forever...

Some weeks back we had a robbery at home. My wife and I lay awake as the robbers went about their work just outside our bedroom wondering what we would do if they were to enter our room. Would we fight? Would we cower in a corner and hope and pray that they would take whatever they wanted and leave us alive? The experience has had its effect...I often lay awake at nights waiting to hear sounds outside the door. Could it be someone again? I sleep a light sleep...sometimes I don't sleep at all.

At least we had something to give the robbers. Even if they had entered our room, we had something to trade...take away everything in sight, just leave us be.

Eventually sleep will come, as will normalcy. And the memory of the incident would slowly fade away. Will it ever fade for those that were there?? What did they have to trade for their lives. What do you do when someone wants nothing at all, other than your very life?

I have thought about the dead and I have thought about those that may have been...

Most of all, I think about what I can do...for my country and for my people. No citizen committees for me. No cries for change. No debates without an end. No loud voices. No candlelight vigils. No hatred. No violence. The answer eludes me...

But I will keep searching.

"...into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake."

A day spent with the gifted children of Don Bosco

ViShesh PraRambh!

December the 4th...or is it 5th? Doesn't really matter, does it?


I take my first steps into the world of blogging. I remember the people that have been my guiding light and shaped my thinking, my personality, my character in this journey of life. My guru who I have known for almost 20 years, my parents who sacrificed everything in bringing me up, our family friends from JNU who were a constant feature during my growing years, friends of my parents whose personalities are etched in my mind, my guardians during my student days away from home, my few and very close friends, work colleagues who have been a constant source of joy and inspiration, the HR Academy who are the future of our profession, and of course my loving wife...who has gone off to sleep waiting for sanity to arrive in my life. She will have to wait a while.


I am deeply indebted to you.


...for your guidance, your patience, for showing me the way, for your laughter, your intellect, your simplicity
...for accepting me, for tolerating me, for your caring
...for giving me a reason to be
...for inspiring me with your commitment, your drive
...for wanting to learn and to grow


I have been privileged