This post is dedicated to my friend, philosopher, guide, Senthil Kumar Mahalingam, who had been an avid reader of my lengthy blogs, who read each line patiently, noticing minute details, commenting on each and every post he read.
This piece took a long time to be penned down, and as usual, he kept asking me if I had finished writing it; even though I had shifted cities, we kept in touch regularly. So finally, I sent him however much I had written, incomplete and full of type errors. He cleaned it all up for me, and sent it back to me, along with comments because as he said “I cannot wait until you post it”.
A few days later, he passed away in a tragic accident.
He sent me back the post on a Tuesday if I remember correctly, after which he pinged me on Gtalk, but the busy bee I was those days, I told him we’d talk later; he agreed.
A day later I replied to his mail but I didn’t get a reply, which was odd but I really didn’t get much time to think about that. Come Monday, I shot off another mail, asking if he was very busy these days. No reply and yet I thought, maybe he had gone home. Wednesday, I received the news that the previous Friday, he had met with an accident and died on the way to hospital, but nobody had come to know until Tuesday; I couldn’t believe it, I still thought it was a very distasteful joke he was playing.
It wasn’t.
The news has sunk in finally, but the mind refuses to accept the finality of death; I didn’t realize how much he mattered to me, my musings, until I lost him, his thoughts, his suggestions, his advice.
The post below is only slightly changed from the cleaned version he had sent back; it is incomplete, as was his life, and so I have left it. An unfinished existence, who will always remain in my consciousness, whenever I write something, whenever I need guidance at work, whenever I like some book, music, Senthil.....you have left imprints in my life, mind and heart…………..
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“Its 10:20 am on a Monday morning and here I am sitting at my office desk, sipping bad machine coffee, earphones of my I-Pod locked into my ears, listening to a random list of endless songs. Having finished checking the weekend mail and playing my share of minesweeper…I am wondering what next to do…
My team members haven’t come yet, all mostly coming between 10 to 11am. After 3 weeks of joining here in Gurgaon, today, I am experiencing the familiar feeling of being relatively free.... yet.
I look around me and think how sometimes, things change so soon, while sometimes, things remain the same for years together…
I had been working in Bangalore for the past 3 years, same company as now and in the same project for the past two years; rather two and a half years. The project had gotten stagnant, with no scope for growth, no onsite assignments, no much challenges; it was a relatively easy-going project, with twenty members, all doing work which, we sometimes felt, even a school going kid could do, given a few days of training. Of course, that’s mostly true for a lot of work done in the IT industry, but lets not go there…
Maybe I am being a little harsh now, maybe time has distorted my perception but yes, this much I can say, there was a lot of scope for self learning, which I didn’t utilize. There was ample time, ample opportunities, but rather than advance myself technologically, I took to writing; lengthy winded blogs…about things which had left an impression on my mind… but which to an impartial/neutral observer would not seem to be very important….small temporary sand sculptures, to be washed away by time…
Nevertheless, for me, they were significant enough…
The project had become a sort of comfort zone, with people I had become comfortable with, easy work, easily acquired leaves, holidays with family, trips with friends. I had my fair share of fun while in the team. You see, the advantage of being in a large team is, less responsibility, less accountability, and best part of all, there’s no such work that can be done by one person. I, being a fresher when I joined the project, took full advantage of the circumstances; I have traveled to more places in the last 2 years than most of my colleagues in different demanding projects. Some of these trips were publicized, some hidden, (I lied through my teeth); people who knew about my absences, and the reasons thereof (who didn’t belong to my team) kept wondering, with what I assume a feeling of general envy, as to how I managed to get away with it all..
Luck, coupled with manipulation and scheming, thinking about every distant possibility (no matter how improbable), every question that could be asked, every untruth that could be revealed...
It was after I returned from one such trip, this time publicized, to Allahabad, to attend a friend’s wedding, and also to visit my alma mater, that I was intimated by a friend in the team that something big had happened in the last few days; some shocking news. The same friend had been supposed to travel to client side that same weekend (when I was on leave). The very fact that he hadn’t, put some seeds of doubt in my mind… but I wasn’t sure. Wild assumptions ran in my mind… but I knew for sure only when I ran into a colleague in the lift as I entered office, who said, ’ Hi… can you believe what did ? it is too bad!’.
I asked what happened,
‘Hey you don’t know? closed the project until further notice..!’
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
It was difficult to believe and digest….
When I reached my seat where the whole team sat, the environment was somewhat unnatural….it wasn’t silent and nobody was sitting in trauma or shock; everyone was in fact discussing the recent development. However, I felt an underlying feeling of insecurity.
What next? Why? Besides me, there were other people who were used to this project, and the mere knowledge that the project no longer existed was unnerving…
I was unsure whether I was happy are not; During the later stages of the project, I had grown to realize that if I had to move ahead, I had to either shift from the project, and since that was virtually impossible while the project continued, or change companies..
So maybe a natural death of the project was a boon in disguise, an involuntary change in environment..
I am not naturally inclined to be ambitious, especially in the field I am in, merely because I am not interested enough. I am not interested in coding, getting lost in the intricacies of C++ or Java. I never was; that’s why I was glad I got into testing. it has a lot opportunities and if one is really career oriented, s/he can go places…provided one takes the initiative. I did not do that either.
My plans were half formed; sometimes I was sure I would do MBA, but never prepared thoroughly, and hence did not get through. Maybe I did not want it really. It was just another means to same end - a career with lots of money, but again, in a field, I couldn’t be all that interested in. I sometimes wonder, where is it that my potential lies - few people have told me it is my writing…I don’t know.. I write when I have the inclination. If someone told me, ‘Give me an article of 1000 words about this issue’ (where the issue could be about current affairs, politics - something important in the context of publishability (if that’s a word), I would be lost. I would not know where to start; so what do I do?
But yes I do think, that out of everything I am capable of, writing is the one thing which I think I like best doing. And yet I don’t where to go from there…
Anyway that wasn’t what I was going to talk about…
I was talking about change….after three years in a city that had become my third home; familiar, friendly, despite all the cons - the traffic, the autowallas, and the expenses, to a different place. There, the pros like friends, the weather, the safety, made my stay there, my first flight into independence, a memorable period …
In Gurgaon, the life is different; initially I hated it; but as it is natural, I am getting used to it. The one thing you cannot avoid is the dust. It is everywhere… despite the trees, the place is like a greenish brownish desert…the weather is extreme, the place known to be unsafe, especially for girls; one learns to adjust accordingly…
8PM on a Wednesday. Gosh! I never imagined that I would sit eleven hours at office… and still waiting… now also, I am so annoyed. I am waiting for another person to give me the code, which I have to test, and finally then I get to leave. The waiting is worse than actually working.
Aaarghhhh!!
Life in Gurgaon Aricent… its different. I miss my old office, my old team members, my cafeteria, the fresh tea/coffee every morning at 11 AM or so (depending upon my arrival in office) and every evening at 4 (almost exactly)…never missed a day. The comforts of familiarity, even the cafeteria people, the juice shop person, the tea/coffee person, the dosa counter people – they all seemed to know me (not by name, but by face). I didn’t even get time to say a word to them; the people who made my work hours easier, my hunger and thirst easily conquered. They probably never missed me in that midst of the crowds of employees … and if they did they probably assumed I’ve moved to greener pastures in a different company.
Here, people seem strangers - no one seems to be a known face to me, the offices lack soul. In all probability, its my personal biased illogical opinion, but even so, the simplicity of the offices (the square-like large stoned buildings, each not more than three floors) – a far call from the modernistic glass structures that are the norm for all IT companies in Bangalore, seem rather cold to me. Added to that the scattered nature of the different buildings of the company… there doesn’t seem to be any charm. I guess I can safely say that I am being extremely prejudicial, now that I am using words like ‘charm’ to describe work places.
There (Bangalore) I lived far from office, and yet I had gotten used to the hour long commutes (one hour on the lower side), that too sometimes changing three buses, standing at the bus stops, waiting. Then in the buses – if I was lucky I would get a seat immediately; sometimes later, rarely I didn’t get one at all. Then, the whole roads were mine to observe - the kids going to school, the kids playing at the schools near the roadside, the ladies carrying baskets of flowers (sometimes some of them sewed them into garlands while sitting in the buses), the daily laborers, with their tools, on their way to another hard day at work, the IT professionals like me, laptops in shoulder bags, burdened by the weight, moving uncomfortably, struggling to release the load, people with folders in their hands, the first page displaying their names, qualifications – resumes; they looked to be going for interviews. All of these people, I observed them… not gaining anything, not interacting with them… yet seeing something in each. I guess now that I try to put it into words, I find it inexplicable, why I liked to see everyone around me. But I loved to watch the crowd; each person with a different aim, a different story, a different expression on his/her face, a different place to go to….
The variety of lives, not all happy, not all sad, not all rich, not all poor, yet all in the same vehicle… moving to their destinations….
Anyway, here in Gurgaon, office is very near and I travel mostly with a friend, or office cab, and the commute time is negligible. I see people, but in autos which seat two people in front, four plus four people in middle (facing each other) and three people at back, facing outside in the open back of the vehicle, looking at the traffic behind. One cannot observe much, but yes I do save time in transit. Here transportation is a pain; there is almost non-existent public transport - no autos where you and you only are the passenger. Like described above, you shared an auto with thirteen others. Public buses... I have seen a few but I’m not sure how regular they are. So you mostly depend on private transport or office cabs…
The dependence irritates me, as I’m not fond of depending on others. But I strive.. I am thankful that at last a few friends are there who drop me and pick me etc.…
The life here is different…
When I came to Bangalore three years back, there was a huge group of classmates there. But then as it happens with time, only the people who mattered stayed in touch, and in a year or so, we had a substantial group. The amazing part was - some people were batch mates, some were roomies of batch mates, one, a cousin of a batch mate, some friends of batch mates… whatever. We had a nice time - the group remained… people came and went. There were many trips, many treats, many unbelievably mad times….
But good times, like bad, never last…
Gradually, changes started happening. Come 2008 and changes became drastic.... a friend got married, one friend got a long term onsite assignment at United States of America, another got a long term assignment in Singapore, another got transferred to Mumbai... all between Feb and June.
Some other personal changes were also happening in my side and I decided that Bangalore had had its share of me. It was time for change…..
And indeed I think I chose the right time; by June end, Bangalore had become desolate for me - my closest friends had left. A few remained, coaxing me not to move… but I knew it was time. They bemoaned each time I mentioned my transfer. But what had to be done had to be done.
I had always loved the city, but the people had made it special… without them, I would rather be somewhere else where I had people I cared about..
8:45PM: Now he tells me that the build is not possible today, and I can leave. Arghhhhh
A quote from my favourite comic strip Calvin & Hobbes explains how I feel right now, “Life's disappointments are harder to take when you don't know any swear words”. I wish I could scream in anger… Haha that would vent it out…I think I am writing all sorts of nonsense….so I’ll stop.
10:24 AM on a Monday morning - a Monday morning after a week at home; home as in Shillong, and I am feeling miserable, missing the last week.
With the advent of low cost flights, the transition from heaven at home to hell at office, doesn’t take too long. When I was in college, from the point I left home, somewhere about one to one thirty in the afternoon, till the time I reached Allahabad, there was a gap of about forty eight hours. This included the overnight stay in Guwahati and the train journey to Allahabad, which never got delayed when going, but invariably always got delayed when coming back home. Additionally, there were friends who also traveled together, so we got used to the impending change by the time we arrived in college. Also, that was college and usually the start of a session; so one generally looked forward to the semester…
But here, in work life, well what is there to really look forward to? Previously in Bangalore, I had gotten used to my team, and although that time too I was miserable, it was not so bad once I got back. Now, well, I was still in the process of getting used to this office in Gurgaon, and this trip has become a severe setback.
Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to share..
The trip back home, after a year; last year too I went during Dussehra. Although after that, I did meet my parents several times, but not at home. Those trips I mentioned earlier – there.
Going home is always a different feeling – the place you grew up in, the streets you walked through to go to school, to just get to a taxi (Shillong being a hilly place, several areas are such where public transport is not available and one has to walk to reach a place where the same is available), the shops with their owners growing older day, the ‘Chanachur’ (local equivalent of Bhelpuri) vendor, who has been selling the same spicy mixture at the same locality for as long as I can remember, my home, the feeling of sitting with a hot water bag beneath my cold feet, TV remote in hand, or a novel, my parents always around, sometimes arguing (mostly), complaining about each other to myself or my brother..:), and then, finally the Durga Pujas - the four days of festivities that bring together, not only families, but communities, localities, colonies…
There is the general perception, that Durga Pujas are celebrated only in West Bengal, mainly Kolkata; Bengalis come only from Kolkata. Most people don’t know that there are a large population of Bengalis living in other parts of the East, mostly Shillong, Assam, Tripura, and other states of the North East. There too, the Durga Pujas are celebrated with as much fervour, as in West Bengal, maybe not in as grand a scale, but in proportion to (and considering) the populace of Bengalis in that place, excellently.
Born and brought up in Shillong, I have almost always celebrated the Pujas there, and the times I was someplace else, I missed Shillong terribly during those four days…
Durga Pujas, to a non-Bengali (and many Bengalis too), is a religious event - the worship of the Durga Goddess. But to us in Shillong, it is more of a social festival, a culmination of many days of organization, arrangements, and events; the Pujas might happen for five days, counting “Shashti” (literally means ‘Sixth Day’ but actually is the day before the actual start of festivities) and “Dashami” (literally means ‘Tenth Day’ but actually is the day after the actual Pujas), but the work behind it starts from months before – meetings, planning, collection of funds, sponsors, and hundred other assorted jobs. It’s not an easy job, but people in our colony have been doing it for seventy three years - people changed, the crowd changed, the sponsors might have changed, but the Goddess remained, every year at the same place, the mini field of the Laitumkhrah Bengali Girls High School, Upper New Colony. The school has always been the venue, with some of its classrooms used as storerooms, a hall used as space for Prasad bitoron (distribution and/or serving of the lunch Prasad for all who wished to eat).
I am not a religious person by nature - I guess I am agnostic; but I look forward to the Pujas as much as all others, because that is a time to spend with family, sitting in our colony’s pandal, looking around at the kids playing with their small guns, running around, screaming in general, the dhaak (large percussion instrument) playing on and off, shouting to each other during the playing, feeling an unnatural silence, when the musicians stopped playing, the competitions like Quiz, Musical Chairs going on, the aura of light in the pedestal where the idols were placed in their magnificence. Durga, the conquered Asura, Lakshmi and Saraswati at her sides, followed by Ganesh and Kartik at their respective sides; Durga Puja is not only about Durga Goddess, it is a Pujas of other Gods too -wealth, knowledge, success, and war…
There are so many aspects in the worship of Durga during these four days; I would not be able to say much given that I am not into idol worship as such. But for most people, especially ladies, every ritual has a meaning, a significance, which has to be performed in a particular way and no other way. All I can say is that, standing in front of the beautiful idol(s), Durga, with the most divinely benevolent, at the same time, fierce expression on her face as she destroys the Asura, the dhaak playing continuously, loud yet inevitably suiting the place, the incense creating a sweet sense of beauty; I can only be awed. This is how it can only be… all of this…or none of it; one cannot worship the Goddess with lesser. Many people spend all day in the pedestal, arranging things - the incense, the prasad, the lamps, the flowers, the fruits, while some sit below, just looking at the Gods; as if just looking at Durga’s idol would suffice for their devotion. I don’t pay that much attention; but that first glance at Durga, on Shasti, or Saptami, all decorated, all powerful, magnificent in her opulence, her 10 hands holding weapons as well as other things (which I do not recall, rather I do not know), I feel …at peace.. as if in her aura, there is strength, I am unable to describe the feeling….I think it is contentment, mingled with awe.
In our colony, nowadays, the celebrations start from quite before the actual Pujas, a lot of cultural competitions – Yes, Bengalis and culture are inseparable. Singing competitions; it doesn’t stop just at that.. Nazrul geeti, Rabindra Sangeet, lok geeti (Kazi Nazrul Islam’s songs, Rabindranath Tagore’s music, folk songs) — competitions for different categories for different age groups, dance completions (these also have categories but I can’t recall), Elocution, (Bengali, English) again with categories for different age groups, - these all are conducted before, (I guess in the school itself) in progression before the Pujas.
Then comes Shashti, the day Durga arrives in her vehicle, (hypothetically); our house is located at such a distance and position from the pandal that, if one stands outside when the dhaakiyas (musicians who play the dhaak) start playing their drums, heralding the welcome of Durga this year, one can see her face while she is being carried to the pandal. We used to do that when we were kids; Come evening; we couldn’t wait to put on our new or almost new apparel (depending on the number of new garments one had been gifted from relatives) and stroll to the pandal to offer our first prayers to Durga, to see the Shasti puja, the finished pandal, the decorations and the cultural functions.
The pujas in our colony have been the same for as long back as I remember; the structure, the arrangements etc. As one enters the gate of the school, and walks down the steps of the school, one can start seeing acquaintances… people of the colony, down there. The first glimpse of the pandal - the mostly maroon cloth, with decorations in white, some steps then a landing where some stalls are being arranged for tea, coffee, snacks, etc. Further down is the actual pandal; the moment one enters, one can see the idols far ahead at the other end. The space between is occupied by chairs and the stage at the other (near) end of the pandal; i.e. imagine if you can a rectangle with the shorter ends containing the gods at one side and the stage at the other…people switching from one to the other side…according to the activities taking place..”
This was Senthil’s comment:
“Few comments - I cannot wait till you post it.
You are almost killing IT professional's dignity. Is it not a dignified job for some dignified people like me? :-)
Try to squeeze out every juice IT job has to offer... before OBAMA's foreign policy come into action or 2nd great economic depression. Save and make good money for the rainy days ahead.
[I look around me and think how sometimes, things change so soon, while sometimes, things remain the same for years together…]
Just a closer of a project has changed much... Imagine someone offering us pink slips.... [my friend was offered recently]. We might get lost in the intricacies of "CHANGE++"... advanced version of change !
[Traveled to most places....some hidden, (I lied through my teeth);]
Hmm... I knew it. You lied in ESS as well
[But for most people, especially ladies, every ritual has a meaning, a significance, which has to be performed in a particular way and no other way. All I can say is that, standing in front of the beautiful idol(s), Durga, with the most divinely benevolent, at the same time, fierce expression on her face as she destroys the asura, the Dhaak playing continuously, loud yet inevitably suiting the place, the incense creating a sweet sense of beauty; I can only be awed. This is how it can only be… all of this.. or none of it.. One cannot worship the Goddess with lesser.. Many people spend all day in the pedestal, arranging things… the incense, the prasad, the lamps, the flowers, the fruits, while some sit below; just looking, at the Gods; as if just looking at Durga’s idol would suffice for their devotion. I don’t pay that much attention; but that first glance at Durga, on Shasti, or Saptami, all decorated, all powerful, magnificent in her opulence, her 10 hands holding weans as well as other things (which I do not recall. Rater I do not know)… I feel …at peace... as if in her aura, there is strength, I am unable to describe the feeling….I think it is contentment, mingled with awe….]
Above is very nice paragraph..."
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