Friday, July 24, 2020

Ramblings overheard: I can die. Nobody will know.

I am a failure. I can die. Nobody will know.

What am i tying to save? a failed marriage?

Who am I trying to make study?
A daughter who hates me for being protective, concerned. 

Who am I hoping will let me stay home and not work?
A husband who says this is all he can do, not do anything to ease my life and hence my job salary is needed.

Who am I trying to get a few good words from?
My mother who hates me because I was born early in her marriage. Who did not study to become an engineer. Who divorced a man she had found for her daughter. Who married a boy she never approved from school. Who is staying with her for for past 13 years with a hyperactive baby now grown into a stubborn teenager.

Who am I saying I love you to?
To an invisible voice who stays far far far away not visible to the eye for ages.

Who am i trying to tell I am good at my work?
To someone who thinks am a threat to his peers as I do well what many men cannot do. To those women who think I am not polished as they are Or think I am smarter than they are.

Who am I living for?
For me? Who thinks there is nothing good, special or left in herself. Who fears the EMIs and hence keeps doing what she finds less for her capacity. Who has no roof of her won if an EMI is missed. Who tries to please all around here hoping some day he'd turn around and be nice to her. 

I have no special skills. I have no fixed deposits. I have no daughter who would listen to me or study.

. I have no husband who'd see am struggling managing his daughter, my mother, home, chores. I have no brother who sees I am juggling too many things he must be doing and my family is scattered. I have no elder brothers who would want to see me happy. I have not elder sister whose shoulder I could lean on. I have no friends who wont judge me when I say i crave to be felt, loved, valued. 

I have only this whit page on who I can type my heart out. who wont judge me. Who will listen to me. Who wont judge me. Who wont call me a failure. 

I have Nobody would miss ME if i die but will miss my money, my service, my slavery, my silence, while they live on and move on.

Such an insignificant being I have reduced myself to. I have turned myself into a doormat, a tattered one. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2018

Balabhaskar was his violin and his violin was him....

I been looking for Balabhaskar’ s mobile number for past few weeks. I had this guilt in my mind for having not returned his calls nor replied to his messages for months.

No, Balabhaskar Sir was not annoying me. He was being patient with a new student of his voice: The Violin.

I have met Balabhaskar just once. When he joined us in the remembrance service for another lost friend – Jishnu. I had saved all contact numbers of the celebrities who joined us to make Jishnu’s memory beautiful.

A few months later, in the attempt to revive myself from a personal setback, I wanted to invest my energy into something I had always loved to listen to: The Violin.

And who else did I turn to ask for guidance, the maestro of violin: Balabhaskar. He doesn’t know me in person and neither remembered me from the remembrance event as we had a crowd. Yet he answered my call.

The first call reached him when he was undergoing a treatment for shoulder pain in my native place: Ottapalam. I found it very strange that I get to call when he is in my native place. We got talking about the two common things: my native place and how he likes everything about it and the shoulder pain which we both had: his music profession and mine due to IT. Since he was undergoing the treatment for a while, said will reconnect on my request on his return a month after.

And a month later when I pined him asking if he is back and all is well…. Sir, called back. Why I address Balabhaskar with a Sir is because it is through the chats with him, I got to know about the basics of violin. I did not Google when I had the University of violin helping me.

He asked if I wanted to study violin standing or sitting… I went blabbering that I have a shoulder pain and hence will sit down and learn. He had a good laugh and said… he wanted to see if I knew Western music violin is learnt standing and Carnatic is by sitting! Then asked me to pick a day or days I want to learn and gave a list of institutions I could go and speak with.

What I saw is, Balabhaskar did not favor any single school of music, he did not insist on any parameters though he could have as I gone to him for guidance. Just like his music, easy, flowing, free.. he let me choose.

But what shows in his performance and life: persistence .. that was there is ensuring I joined a class and started my lessons.

And we never met. No regular chats or calls. Yet I could feel a supervisory pressure each time I procrastinated my practice or skipped my classes.

After a few weeks, I got a ping asking how am I progressing… he knew how commitments, job, family, chores all take a big chunk of one’s time. He knew I was also a bit hesitant to give it a try because of my late start in life to learn…. And to encourage would message saying initial days will be tough but don’t miss classes 😊

But that’s what happened … I started missing classes, lagged with my co-learners, tuition dropping and picking, grocery shopping, hypermarkets, calls dominated my evenings and my violin went silent.

I started avoiding Sir’ calls… didn’t know what excuse to make after having given almost all of them for missing classes… though his enquires on progress came weeks apart… I had the guilt of neglecting his voice, the violin. Then everything stopped. My violin classes and gradually Balabhaskar too stopped his messages. Silence.

And today when I know Balabhaskar’ s violins will be silent forever, I regret not having played mine despite the maestro himself guiding and encouraging. I feel terrible I missed replying in affirmative of how good my classes progressed… I miss not having respected his sincere encouragement to an unknown unseen me … it was not the person he was talking or pinging… he was making one more violin sing like his…. He was making more music through leaners like me. And I did not get this message till today morning when the news of his departure was in the air, everywhere.

I was looking for his number to just let him know I am starting my classes again and to apologize for having been silent.

Am not keying this to get shared or liked but, before he leaves us completely, while his soul is still in the same city, had to convey to all: Balabhaskar wanted many violins to speak like his. He loved each string of his violin like his breath. Today the strings, breath has stopped but his music will flow through many more violins. Including mine.

Stay with us, forever Balabhaskar… we will keep you alive amongst us. Through all the violins in Trivandrum and around the world. 

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Crime news: Deterrent or Encouragement?


Sanjana and I keep talking about why media is so full of negative news, abuses, injustice, scams, sex scandals, political coup, food poisoning, predators.

Are we not feeding blank minds with ideas to commit crimes by detailing the heinous acts in news reports, debated, discussions, Facebook and WhatsApps?

How will the world be if a news report informs public of a crime committed on Day 1 and day 20 inform the criminal has been caught by police. A solution is what the viewers need to know.

What is the motive behind news reporters reporting from scene of crime? How does it change anything to the viewer? It does not leave a good taste nor healthy thought once the crime scene is shown, blood splattered around shown, wailing parents or relatives seen... Why is the visual media so keen to show misery and sorrow?

What is the need to have news time have 60 minutes of discussions on a girl missing! Most of the points are assumptions. Defensive comments turn offensive. Parents, neighbors, local political leaders, religious leaders, the bus conductor to toll officer... all have a say in why a girl went missing. It does not get the missing girl turn up.

Viewers do not et off these shows with any pleasant thoughts. They get divided within families on the debates. Sometimes these debates turn into mega serials with each day having a new guest to defend or offend the subjects.

Remote controls get into tug of war between news channels to watch such debates.

But do these discussions, crime reporting BRING DOWN the rate of crime? Is such reporting a deterrent to any mind wandering into crime?

Sanju and I are divided on the need to report details of crime. But both of us feel, so much detailing of crime and criminals is glorifying the heinous deed with days of coverage. Who know it might be giving ideas or influencing a jilted lover or a student nervous to report performance at home or a housewife looking to get away from a drunkard husband or a predator watching a girl child play in the courtyard....

Why are we consumers of crime, violence, murders, rape, scandals, money scams? What is changing within us?



Saturday, July 14, 2018

The Corporate Glass Ceiling


Sanjana: Jia, I been in this company for 12 years! Yet, why am I not a Director? (Quizzical look)
Me: Well, Sanju.... you been here for 12 years and I know you are an SME... Good question! (I am searching for a response... distant look in eyes)

Sanjana, me and you are amongst the many, many who wonder why is that a few make it to the top and others don't. Maybe Sanjana's story might add a different perspective or is it the same for the millions if working women.

She is an SME in a niche area. Not many are certified of specialized. She joined her current employer just as the organization was breaking through into becoming an IT name to reckon with. Of course, she missed the start-up days.

And Sanju had her share of fieriness and straight talk that might have also added to her slow growth. She is not a "Yes, Sir", "Of course, Sir", "Very much, Sir", "You are right, Sir", "Right away, Sir" type of worker. Sanju would diplomatically, yet firmly say if things will work or not.

Of course, there were a few women who learnt the rope of "Yes, Sir" and reached to the top. To be precise, 4 of her age have.

Sanju sobered down, took a "horse with blinds" attitude, focused in designing a framework, mobile application got herself certified. Meanwhile, she got a mentor who believed what she did is needed for the company to offer new services to clients.

Yet, Sanju would never be invited to client presentations, she is not given a client facing challenge, Sanju must do what is part of a large project. She has made many attempts, (I am aware of) to inform the front-ending teams to sell her expertise. They turn a deaf ear.

She got perspectives as to why she cannot be in the sales front nor is being given a promotion to get opportunities to generate revenue. The responses given by her senior management showed clear signs of presence of: The Glass Ceiling.

- If only you joined my team 10 years back
- Had I spotted you much early, it would have helped me mentor you
- Perhaps had you been a man, it would have made networking easy within
- Maybe you should let a Senior Dir sell it for you and you can work under him

All the client meetings she was accidently joined were success and she closed those deals. She got excellent NPS from the clients onsite and offshore for her framework, plans and execution.

Hence the reasons given for her slow growth, is very interesting to know, Sanju's capability, skill and knowledge were not the impediments but her gender to a large extent and insecurity of the male-dominated front-end teams.

She is not the only one am aware of. In the same organization, another female SME is sidelined when it comes to client facing discussions. She takes the calls, prepares the decks, speaks to the client on phone but when it comes to meeting clients face to face, a male sales head from some other location was brought into the team and he took the meeting!

Sanju has two options, she tells me.

Either she stays on with the hand-downs or one of projects and celebrate success once a year.

Or she leaves the city and joins the bigger ones. What stops her is her family needs to be in the city for next two years. Sanju has travelled for all her client commitments, though. To US, EU and APAC.

I don't think Sanjana's case is unique. It is a common one in corporate.

But why that we have a tight pyramid towards the top for women? Why hasn't digitalization or technology break-through made any impact in seeing there is no bias moving up the corporate landscape!

Deep within, the male ego is yet to be transparent: digitally and emotionally.

Saturday, June 3, 2017

Vulnerable


 He was a surgeon. She was into management consulting.

Initial communication was to address a condition a peer in office was going through.

Once that was settled, they moved in separate ways. Ideally that should be end of all.

But it wasn't to be.

Both led lives stretched to its limit. She was a single-parent. Her two children were in middle school. He had one child and had a full family around. Yet, they both led lives they wished would change soon. ASAP.

Since such changes happen only in movies, the real life script had something different in store. Their paths crossed.

For around seven months there were just happy birthday messages that went back and forth. Then a quick note asking for help from a reliable legal expert came from him. She was not sure if it would be worth the risk to take up a task for someone she hardly knew.

Yet, considering the situation in their society was getting worse due to the anti-social elements in the area, she thought it to be imperative to help. And after getting a non-disclosure agreement agreed by her lawyer friend, she connected him and the lawyer.

She is not sure why, but the lawyer friend did not find the filed complaint enough a reason to take it up to the authorities. Hence that task went into limbo.

Conversations were once a week or so related to the status of the case etc. Sometimes when he would get back late from duty, would drop a message around 1:00 am too. She dismissed the timing as a network delay. (Those were the days without instant chats like you and I enjoy today).

Somewhere in one of her replies, she said the day is a busy one since she is the cornerstone for her children. His one word response - 'Ditto' - threw open the conversation into long hours ones.

Throwing caution into winds, the messages got longer about each other's life story. She was taken aback when he reeled out all her professional details, native place and even her residence address. That should have set the alarm in her head. It did not.

On the other hand, she knew only his full name printed on the hospital catalogue and that's it. Because she didn't think it warranted any further investigation.

His interest in her, her story, her life, her daily routine etc made her feel nice. Though there was a clause of zero-emotional involvement by both of them, staying in touch became a need.

He revealed very little about himself. Claimed he is a man of few words and too much stress. Said in his family he has someone who is fighting a medical condition. His child needs him more these days. He would respond to any queries asked and not proactively talk like she used to. And if there were more than three or four queries would stop replying or ask if that day was only for questions.

He would never call on phone and once when she tried to sent a very harsh text saying he will never take calls and only texts. She should have stopped right there. Other than his once in a while outrage, he was generally a good person. Yet, she should have gone by her sixth sense.

After four months of texting, his texts slowly reduced to just monosyllabic ones. There were hours and hours gaps between texts which was unusual. He had put in a clause of saying there shouldn't be a gap of more than five minutes between texts. If she did not respond, will see him appear at her door step.

The long night texts stopped all of a sudden. She asked him if he met someone else or got back someone he lost back into his life. This outraged him since she indirectly mentioned someone who had introduced her to him one year back.

In her mind, she was very clear it had to be another woman who would have a power to break their bonding. And since he had claimed long time back of having very few friends outside his domain, it had to be someone who is from his fraternity. It had to be someone who he knew for long. All these going by his claims of being not on social network, not socializing much due to his responsibilities at home.

She knew the other lady had moved to Bangalore a year back. Her husband was away in Canada for some course. She was alone here till then. She assumed he must have got friendly and close with her and her departure left him lonely in his stressful life. Anything asked to him about this, was met with never before seen reactions. She got all the more annoyed with his impatient responses. If there was nothing beyond a peer relationship, why is he getting worked up?

And in the radio silence that followed, she tried to put the puzzle together. Both she and the Bangalore lady were single (the Bangalore one for a period of a year or two), both of them looked a little alike, both were slightly different from women of their age. Maybe it was his 'pattern' to find such profiles and get friendly.

She was just a pit-stop for him till his love got back to him or maybe they already were involved and he wanted some variety.

Though on the fringe of emotional involvement, she found it very easy to speak up and ask directly. He said it was futile to fight in an emotionless relationship and he has his own reasons to stop texting her. It was his stress at work and life. She had a good, good laugh at this.

Knew he was lying through his teeth. He got bored, that's it. He needed variety as temporary distraction while he kept strong his bond in Bangalore. And he was finding her too clinging as a friend and wanted to break off. Yet wanted her to go away on her own.

Though this attitude from a buddy was unexpected and an open talk would have made her respect him, she was glad and relieved when they decided to turn into strangers.

At times, she does think he might be right about the stress levels etc but then those were not new in his life and so why worry about it now! She lost trust in acquaintances, she got anxious when a man got asking about her. She just got suspicious of intentions.

Fate would have it, she got to work with a NGO that works with his hospital. But she made it very sure he never got the wind of it because he was a stranger and she wished never to bump into him. For years she was in and out of the place. And it went on for years.

In their mid-40s, the paths crossed again. This was during an AGM of the institution and they were invitees. She hardly recognized him. He didn't flinch either. A text beeped in her phone.

No more vulnerable to his texts, without reading it, she walked up to him, looked into his eyes and said, "You left behind nothing in me for you to play around with again...to kill. Stop texting."

He did not blink nor say anything. Yet held steady her gaze.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Why I think Bhallala Deva is not bad..


The first born is always the favorite in the family till a second born makes the entry.

Life for the first born changes from the day the family’s, neighbors’ attention shifts from his/her playful antics to that of the baby. His baby talk, baby looks all seem to be upgraded to “grow up, now you have a younger one to take care of” statements, if not spoken but hinted at.

As we grow up, the first born is compared with the second born, if the second is smarter, studious, playful, and darling of the folks. Also makes the first born move into a cocoon of their own. They seem to make way for the second one’s heroics unwillingly. They seem to be seen weaker than the second born. Less intelligent and less sensitive. The first born is made to feel like a ‘mistake born’.

All thanks to the smart second born. If not for their appearance, the first born would have seen as the perfect one for the family.

That’s exactly what happened with Bhallala Deva in Mahishmati

He was born a normal prince with all princely qualities. Till his cousin Baahubali was born.

Baahubali was in every sense the charmer, smarter, studios of the two. Sivagami, the Queen was fond of Baahubali which also had a fact of him being orphaned. Bhallaladeva was pushed to the sidelines though the two Princess were trained, coached, rewarded equally. Yet Bhallala Deva knew his own mother loved him a little less than how much she loved Baahubali.

It pushed him into a forced silence every time Baahubali shone. This gave his scheming father opportunities to influence his son’s thinking. Knowingly or unknowingly, Bhallala Ddeva distanced from his queen mother’s positive influence. He saw Baahubali was taking a lion’s share of the love he was legally and by birth had right to. Yet, he knew there was no way he can force his own mother to give him priority.

Silently, willingly or unwillingly, made way for Baahubali in every path of life. Somewhere he erred too, coming under his wicked father’s and equally wicked advisers. Yet, when his father asks him to murder his mother so that Baahubali’s growth is studded, Bhallaladeva does not heed to his command. He has the goodness in him still somewhere within him.

The only time Bhallala Deva felt his mother give him the best is when she agrees to get Devasena for him. Who he eventually lost to Baahubali.

But in order to keep her word given to her own son, Sivagami strips Baahubali of his title of the King of Mahishmati (since she gave him options to choose and he chose...well...you know who) and in turn Bhallala Deva is crowned the King. Though Bhallala Deva is the actual hire to the throne that, it came to him not willingly.

Neither the throne nor the people of the kingdom wanted him to sit on it. Somewhere in the past, for having made way for Baahubali, Bhallala Deva lost all opportunities to win the hearts of the people and the throne. Even when he does get the throne finally, as and when the son of his rival is born, due to the design of events unfolding around which he and his dad were the masterminds, queen mother snatches the very throne she gave her son, Bhallala Deva and hands it to the new born Mahendra Baahubali, his nephew, son of his rival cousin Amarendra Baahubali.

A loser in all aspects, Bhallala Deva got the venom of revenge deep into the core of his bones. The transforming events from an innocent new born, into a sidelined youth, to that of a revenger is not something he himself would have wanted to happen yet happens.

If Baahubali was not orphaned, if the Sivagami had not been in a confusion who to crown as the King and preferred the popular, smarter, charming, talented Baahubali, had Baahubali not been born, who knows maybe Bhallala Deva would have been the good hearted Prince.

Haven’t a majority of the first born and a few second born not wised they were the only child of their parents?

Bhallala Deva was not born bad.

Monday, January 16, 2017


Why I have a bucket list for ME :)

My bucket list is not a long to-do things in a lifetime... at least for me. The list includes things that I do not want to do and wish someone else does for me.

The bucket list contain things like standing up in class when asked to stand up if the class project is not done. Wish someone else stands up, not me,

To sit for my Math exam and solve just the sums that greet me saying Hi, stranger!

To say No, to a love letter from someone I dread to even look at in college :D

When I have to choose between Mom and Dad when they have an argument!

The bucket list of what I don't want to do also has wish someone takes the side for me, when two of my best friends stop talking to each other!

 Wish someone else would feel the pain when a new shoe bites me :)

Wish someone else’s heartbreak if Farhan Akthar finds his ‘girl’ :D (I don’t want this to happen….the finding part, I meant)

List wishes someone else to get scared and scream when watching a horror flick and get strange looks from other in the theatre or the scorn from family if watching at home.

Wish I don't have to ask for my pads from the pharmacy manned by men (Yeah, am no feminist to walk in there, slam the table, look straight into their eyes and demand "Whisper!)

Wish I don't have to be the first in the traffic row when light turns red... because will have less time to check my WhatsApp! :D

The bucket list has things like wish I don't see a still escalator at office when about to check in and the formidable staircase beckons me... wish someone else would climb it for me... :D

Bucket list says wish someone folds the clothes from the clothesline at the end of the day when all I want to do is sleeeeep!

Bucket list says, wish I don't have to be told "working women are to spend 'quality time' with family by any social cultural custodians on a TV panel! I can lip synch such lines.... beaten to death this topic is, yet is told in abundance!

My bucket list gets new member almost every time I wince, says "Oh! No", Jeez, here it comes!... But why me... types of statement. My bucket list is different.... it has only things which someone else can do for me :D

Err... did you call me lazy bones?

Hehehe.... just for 5 days a year, wish to be so... and no, this is not in my bucket list but "Bouquet list"! The ones, I will do... be they be outrageous, strictly no-no, dangerous for my "age" or sheer jealousy! :)