I Am India...

I am India....

I remember in March 1993, when the skyline of Bombay was almost blown off with a series of bomb blast...bombs went off at the Bombay Stock Exchange building, Air India building, Masjid Bunder, a bus near Passport Office, a building near Poonam Chambers, Plaza cinema hall at Dadar, Centaur Hotel Juhu and Sea Rock Hotel at Bandra ... to name a few. Thousands lost their lives, thousand others were wounded and the poor became poorer still. I obviously knew who had done it but I was asked by the so-called powerful nations to restrain myself and not jump to conclusions. After all, I am the country where great leaders like Mahatma Gandhi have preached non-violence, to give the other cheek if I am slapped on one. How can I then be a hypocrite in front of the world and resort to voilence? So, I allowed terrorists likes Dawood and Tiger Memon to escape out to Pakistan / Dubai and lead lavish lives. The world, not surprisingly had a very short memory and carried on and no one bothered.

I have always been surrounded by rogue states and unstable governments. And my borders are so vast and varied that I am vulnerable from various sides. And Pakistan has been a neighbour which constantly keeps reminding me of its existence. A few years later Pakistan again was at war with me. Kargil was a full-fleged war on my people. It was horrifying to say the least . And what did it yield except the Powers-that-be telling me to restrain and work towards 'samjhauta'... The world knows what happened to the Express which went by that name. A compromise which would mean handing over Kashmir on a platter to my neighbours!

I have produced proof after proof of Pakistan being the birthplace and nurturer of terror. And can Pak sustain its terror activities without the support of its military? Where does its arms and ammunition come from? Where does the money come in? When documents were produced stating that France continues to sell arms to Pakistan, no embargo, no sanctions but "good advice' was given. I was reminded that I am the world's largest Democracy and hence should be the big sister to a nation who in fact is a day older than us!

Do you remember December 1999? It was Christmas time, and the whole world was celebrating the end of the century and the beginning to a new millennium. But how was it made immortal in our minds? The hijack of Flight IC 814. In the middle of no-where, in Kandahaar, the plight of the passengers and the crew was in the hands of the terrorists. My countrymen watched horrified and with bated breath to hear any news on the return of their near and dear ones . Did any country in the world come forward with a solution? I had to fend for myself.

I carried out the Pokhran II nuclear test, the whole world was quick to condemn me, US sanctions were the first to be implemented. Pakistan was given as much support as required.

I find it extremely ironical that the big bully who did not think twice before the nuclear bombing of Hiroshima / Nagasaki, raced to wipe out Vietnam, eagerly instigated the Afghans against Soviet Union (and so, in a large respect, aided the creation of Taliban), time and again reminded their next generation that they should fight for justice turns face about when it comes to their country? America, the country who finds it difficult to swallow the same bitter pill, the developed nation who had no clue of what was going to happen to them on a Tuesday morning, who had no inkling of events to unfold... the same country who has all along just given me lip service got full support from me in its time of need.

From the riots of 1993 to the Taj bombing of 2008, I have been bleeding... crying... tolerating... sacrificing. I was once regarded as the most secular, cohesive and peaceful democracy but now am being broken down to pieces. At times, I think it is a battle - a war that I have allowed too many countries to meddle in and distort the real essence of .

Is Kashmir my only problem? What about the rampant lawlessness in states like Bihar and UP? And the under-development in the BiMaRU states? And how can I forget my patriotic 'netas' who, in the garb of preserving my culture, create communal and civil violence. Do you, my country-men (and women) vote for a party or against it? Why is there so much criminalization of politics and corruption right from the lower to the topmost rung in society?

When you go for movies, do you stant up for the National Anthem with a sense of pride or do you, in your minds, keep thinking 'What a waste of time this is'... Well, if you do, here's a new anthem for you... Sing it and feel ashamed. Jaya he!!! (or is it Jai Ho!!!)



Jana Gana Mana Rann hai..
Iss rann me, Zakhmi Bharat ka Bhagya Vidhaata..
Punjab Sindh Gujrat Maratha..
Ek doosre se lad ke mar rahe hain...
Iss desh ne humko ek kiya,
Aur hum desh ke tukde kar rahe hain..
Dravid Utkala Banga..!
Khoon bahakar ek rang ka, kar diya humne Tiranga,
Sarhadon pe jung aur, galiyon me fasaad-danga..
Vindh Himachal Yamuna Ganga, mein tezaab ubal raha hai,
Mar gaya sab ka zameer, Jaane kab zinda ho aage..
Phir bhi tava shubh naame jaage.. Tava shubha ashish maange..
Aag mein jal kar cheekh raha hai, Phir bhi koi nahi bachata..
Gaahe tava jaya gaatha..
Desh ka aisa haal hai lekin, Aapas me ladh rahe neta..
Jana Gana Mangal Dayak Jaya Hai..
Bharat ko bacha le Vidhata!
Jaya He! Ya yeh marann hai..
Jana Gana Mana Rann hai..

For Whom The 'Bell' Tolls

I was working on developing a career management system for my company and in that context was critically evaluating the performance appraisal system as well. One of the most debated ways to assess performance in organizations is the dreaded Bell Curve. Forced ranking assesses employee performance relative to peers rather than against predetermined goals. Managers rank employees into three categories: The top 20 percent are the people who will lead the future of the company. They're given raises, stock options, and training. The middle 70 percent are given smaller raises and encouraged to improve. The bottom 10 percent are contribute the least and may be meeting expectations but are simply "good" on a team of "greats." They're given no raises or bonuses and are either offered training, asked if they'd be happier elsewhere, or fired.

I was reading Jack Welch's Winning and came across this passage on forced rating, bell curve and differentiation (For the uninitiated, Jack Welch, retired Chief Executive Officer of General Electric (GE), is most often associated with forced ranking, since GE used this performance management tool to eliminate the bottom ten percent of performers each year.) :

Differentiation starts right from our school days with our grades and play-ground where the best players get picked first and the least athletic ones watch from the stands. Everyone knows where he/she stands. The top kids want desperately to stay there and continue to get the thrill and respect of winning. the kids in the middle work hard to get better and thus bring up the quality of play. And the kids who couldn't make the cut usually found other pursuits, other sports in which they excelled. this is true on the playground and it is true in business.

When differentiation is working, people know where they stand. Maybe some information is hard to swallow at first but soon enough, knowledge is liberating because when you know where you stand, you can control your destiny.

Differentiation brings out the positive impact of an open, honest management system built on candid performance assessments and aligned rewards. For the top performers, the very existence of a middle cadre gives them yet another reason to pull out all the stops everyday. They have to keep getting better to have a high standing. For the middle performers, the aspiration to get into the top level makes them work harder, think more creatively, share more ideas and overall, fight the good fight everyday.

Now, coming to the detractors of forced ranking, I have heard many say that it is not ethical. My view on this is - any system or process is nether ethical or unethical - it is the implementers who make it so. A lot depends on how fairly the system is developed, and how fair the people are who carry it out.

Forced Ranking may be hard on the under-performers, people who are not dependable, determined or persistent but truth be told, organizations are not charitable set-ups where they are obligated to carry these non-performers with them, on emotional grounds. And more importantly, a laissez-faire attitude where everybody gets an exceptional / very good rating makes the ranking meaningless to employees. Would that not be the case if everyone in a school stood first?

But, having said that, I definitely feel the emphasis should be on the correct way to implement the process. Clear, transparent and honest communication of process and feedback goes a long way in building credibility of the system and its processes. If the Forced Ranking system is a way to make power centers in the organization where those who fall out of favour with the boss / are not 'Yes-Bosses' are chucked out, such a system is doomed to implode. If you don’t give people what they need to perform well and expect them to succeed, if you set a measure to which people should perform and don’t give them the tools to do it, then it is an unfair process, set up for failure and politics to set in. But if the evaluations are carried out in fair ways, and if people know the grounds or expectations on which they are being evaluated, it could be a reasonable way to reward growth and ability and to cull unpromising or under performing employees.

My Choice Blogger AWard

I have been awarded the My Choice Blogger award by Meera. Thanks so much. I am glad I am your choice!

Happy Mother's Day, Ma!!!

On the occasion of Mother's Day, I thought it apt to share this piece of writing...

We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family."

"We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.

"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.

I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a souffle or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child.That she would give up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. I want her to know that a caesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love someone who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with their child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I hope she will understand why I can think rationally about most issues, but become temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of nuclear war to my children's future.

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes.

"You'll never regret it," I finally say.

Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.

Bengali A - Z

Something I picked up recently... The A - Z for Bengalis...

A is for Awpheesh (as in Office). This is where the average Kolkakatan goes and spends a day hard at work. And if he works for the 'Vest Bengal Gawrment' he will arrive at 10, wipe his forehead till 11, have a tea break at 12, throw around a few files at 12.30, break for lunch at 1, smoke an unfiltered cigarette at 2, break for tea at 3, sleep sitting down at 4 and go home at 4:30. It's a hard life!

B is for Bhision. For some reason many Bengalis don't have good bhision. In fact in Kolkata most people are wearing spectacles all the time.(too many plays to attend,shongeet programs)

C is for Chappell. Currently, this is the Bengali word for the Devil, for the worst form of evil. In the night mothers put their kids to sleep saying, 'Na ghumaley Chappell eshey dhorey niye jabe.'(remember ' so jao nahi to Gabbar aa jayega'....thanks Sippy sahab)

D is for Debashish or any other name starting with Deb. By an ancient law every fourth Bengali Child has to be named Debashish. So you have a Debashish everywhere and trying to get creative they are also called Deb, Debu, Deba with variations like Debopriyo, Deboprotim, Debojyoti, etc. thrown in at times.

E is for Eeesh. This is a very common Bengali exclamation made famous by Aishwarya Rai in the movie Devdas. It is estimated that on an average a Bengali, especially Bengali women, use eeesh 10,089 times every year. 'Ei Morechhey' is a close second to Eeesh.

F is for Feeesh. These are creatures that swim in rivers and seas and are a favourite food of the Bengalis. Despite the fact that a fish market has such strong smells, with one sniff a Bengali knows if a fish is all right. If not, he will say 'eeesh what feeesh is theesh!'

G is for Good name. Every Bengali boy will have a good name like Debashish or Deboprotim and a pet name like Motka, Bhombol, Thobla, etc. While every Bengali girls will have pet names like Tia, Tua,Tumpa , Tuktuki, Mishti, Khuku et cetera.

H is for Harmonium. This the Bengali equivalent of a rock guitar. Take four Bengalis and a Harmonium and you have the successors to The Bheatles!(2 lac impersonators of the bhetols and elvis da in North kolkata only)

I is for lleesh. This is a feeesh with 10,000 bones which would kill any ordinary person, but which the Bengalis eat with releeesh!

J is for Jhola. No selfrespecting Bengali is complete without his Jhola. It is a shapeless cloth bag where he keeps all his belongings and he fits an amazing number of things in. Even as you read this there are two million jholas bobbling around Kolkata, and they all look exactly the same! Note that 'Jhol' as in Maachher Jhol is a close second.

K is for Kee Kaando !. It used to be the favourite Bengali exclamation till eeesh took over because of Aishwarya Rai (now Kee Kando's agent is trying to hire Bipasha Basu).

L is for Lungi, the dress for all occasions. People in Kolkata manage to play football and cricket wearing it not to mention the daily trip in the morning to the local bajaar. Now there is talk of a lungi expedition to Mt Everest.

M is for Minibaas. These are dangerous half buses whose antics would effortlessly frighten the living daylights out of all James Bond stuntmen as well as Formula 1 race car drivers.

N is for Nangto. This is the Bengali word for Naked. It is the most interesting naked word in any language!

O is for Oil. The Bengalis believe that a touch of mustard oil will cure anything from cold (oil in the nose), to earache (oil in the ear), to cough (oil on the throat) to piles (oil you know where!).

P is for Phootball. This is always a phavourite phassion of the Kolkattan. Every Bengali is born an expert in this game. The two biggest clubs there are Mohunbagan and East Bengal and when they play the city comes to a stop.

Q is for Queen. This really has nothing to do with the Bengalis or Kolkata, but it's the only Q word I could think of at this moment. There's also Quilt but they never use them in Kolkata.

R is for Robi Thakur. Many many years ago Rabindranath got the Nobel Prize. This has given the right to all Bengalis no matter where they are to frame their acceptance speeches as if they were directly related to the great poet and walk with their head held high. This also gives Bengalis the birthright to look down at Delhi and Mumbai and of course 'all non-Bengawlees'! Note that 'Rawshogolla' comes a close second ! and a closer third is 'Robindro shongeet' ...every
child born first sings a verse of robindro shongeet before asking for mothers' milk)

S is for Shourav. Now that they finally produced a genuine cricketer and a captain, Bengalis think that he should be allowed to play until he is 70 years old. Of course they will see to it that he stays in good form by doing a little bit of 'jawggo' and 'maanot'.

T is for Trams. Hundred years later there are still trams in Kolkata. Of course if you are in a hurry it's faster to walk.

U is for Aambrela. When a Bengali baby is born he is handed one.(a statement for 'upwaardly mobile bengalis') A close second is Uttam Kumar.....the Rock Hudson of Goria..haat.....

V is for Bhaayolence. Bengalis are the most non-violent violent people around. When an accident happens they will fold up their sleeves, shout and scream and curse and abuse, "Chherey De Bolchhi" but the last time someone actually hit someone was in 1979.

W is for Water. For three months of the year the city is underwater and every year for the last 200 years the authorities are taken by surprise by this!

X is for X'mas. It's very big in Kolkata, with Park Street fully lit up and all Bengalis agreeing that they must eat cake that day,abandoning their roshogoollas and shondesh for a day.....

Y is for Yesshtaarday. Which is always better than today for a Bengali (see R for Robi Thakur).

Z is for Jebra, Joo, Jipper and Jylophone.

Shubho Nabo Borsho

Not the very apt time to write about the quintessential 'Pujo' of Bengalis but with 'Poila Boishakh' (Bengali New Year) coming up tomorrow, I have suddenly started feeling very 'Bengali'!!! This, in a world where we are so cosmopolitan! In fact, coming to think of it, tell any Mumbaikar that he lives in a Maharashtrian city or any resident of Bangalore that he lives in a Kannada one and s/he will take immediate offence. S/he will immediately launch in a tirade of how high the pot-purri of cultual mix exists, of the wide roads, the night-life, the wi-fi and the wide and diverse set of people that inhabit the cities.

But then, there are those cities that are far away from the techno-babble (and bubble); that are rooted deep in their identity as a non-cosmopolitan, traditionalist city that takes pride in being just the way it is. Kolkata (or Calcutta as I have always called it, inspite of the fact that the Bengali pronunciation is Kolkata) is one such city.

I have not lived in this city for an extended period of time. A visit for a few weeks every alternate year was just about, more than enough for me - I always found the life there very slow and laid back compared to the fast life in Mumbai. But the true way to explore a city is by staying there on your own and I was given the opportunity to do so during my post-graduate internship with ITC. The two months that I spent there alone, without my immediate or extended family, taught me a lot about the city, its hues and cultures, its people and most importantly, changed my perception about the city.

Calcutta has deep passions, cheerful chaos, utter contempt for commerce and fiery responses to the smallest provocation. And at the same time, it has the love for culture, arts, intellect; it is bare in all its emotions - it is humane and exudes warmth and comfort. It truly is the City of Joy in many ways! We define most cities by the infrastructural / financial / cosmopolitan outlook and growth but Calcutta is one place which is defined by its people.

And this is where the 'Pujo' comes in... and it so much more than just worship! Calcutta immerses in the joy of celebration, of artistic expression and the brightness of colours and music of the 'dhaks'... the 'fragrance' of fried fish, the 'shidur khela', the 'Anjali', the competition between pandaals to see which is better, the riot of colours... The 'Pujo' is simply a celebration of life, for the City of Joy.

I was told that the city would grow on me. And guess what, it did. Without knowing, it quietly stepped into my heart and won over my soul!!!

Sambar of '69

Was going through some of my old treasured mails and found this one...
(To be sung to the tune of Bryan Adam's Summer of '69)

I had my first real six rupees.
Stole it from my father's pants.
Went to a madrasi hotel,
to eat the Sambar of '69.

Me and some kadke dost,
Had it all and we caught bukhaar,
Jimy puked, Joey got ulcers,
And Bagga ne maari dakar.

Oh when I went back there now,
The food was as stale as ever,
And though it was 1999,
Still the Sambar was being served over there...
That was the worst food of my life...
Back to the Sambar of '69.

There's no use in complaining,
When you got no other place to eat,
Rushed in the evening to the doctors clinic,
But he too was at the toilet seat,

Yeah standing there waiting outside,
Nurse told me I will wait forever,
Oh and when I held my breath,
I knew that I had to use that loo there
That was the worst food of my life.
Back to the Sambar of '69.

Man I was getting killed,
I was full and restless,
I needed to unwind,
I guess nothing can wait forever - FOREVER... NO!!!!

And now the dhabas are changing,
New dishes have come and gone,
Sometimes when I pass that old Madrasi lane,
I still smell it, I can't be wrong.

Standing in those unwashed clothes,
The waiters still call me in there,
Oh the way my nostrils burn,
I know that it will be served forever,
What was the worst food of my life.
Yeah it was the Sambar of '69, the Sambar, the Sambar, the Sambar of '69 .....

The GREAT Divide!

Women, particularly feminists, leave no opportunity to point out what a bane, men are to society and how, with human cloning becoming successful, men can be just thrown off the face of Mother Earth! But there is a further divide... in the South of India, people feel that North Indian Men (NIM) - and not men in general - are the bane of society. They are supposed to be uncouth, uncultured and God's gift to womankind. And for the South Indian Men, (SIM), every person who has been born and brought up towards the north of the Vindhyas, is a North Indian (Yes, us Mumbaikars as well!!! :) )

Let's put things in perspective : there's no denying that in the 'women-safe' city of Mumbai, a few years ago, on New Year's night, women were molested by a mob in full public view with media around. But to counter that is the Mangalore pub assault episode, when the activists of Sri Rama Sene barged into a pub and violently beat up the girls present there in the name of preserving Indian culture.

Can we really segregate and accuse one section of the population with such 'henious' crimes while absolving the other group in the same breath, just by virtue of the states of birth / growing up / residence? But truth be told - NIM are far more crass and openly rough and vulgar than the SIM. The most perverted, double-meaning jokes, am sure, originated in the northern part of the country and although I am not judgemental about them (having laughed at them with as much gusto as my NIM & SIM friends), they can get lewd and uncomfortable for the feeble hearted. And not to forget the evergreen punch-lines - 'Kya maal / item / bomb / body hai'; 'Aa chalti hai kya'; They not only whistle, but also make obscene gestures and pass lewd comments. Whether a girl is of eighteen or a woman in her 50s, these men shower there love and affection on everyone.

This is what I read in a site which caters to Western Women visiting India - particular advice for North India while South India was rated much more laid back, friendly, and respectful :

- Learn to ignore everyone around you unless you have a specific reason to speak with someone.

- Don't meet people's eyes - especially men.

- Don't chat very much with random guys. Indian women don't do that and neither do they look at men. In fact most Indian women completely ignore the presence of men and just go about their business. (!!!)

- Maintain your distance from any man - very young to very old. At least three to four feet. That's how much space Indian women maintain between themselves and an unrelated male.

- Don't wear clothes that expose the shoulders, that are tight across the chest, don't expose legs, no strappy dresses, etc. Salwars or just pants and a long cotton top are comfortable and appropriate.

- If anyone asks you about a boyfriend or husband, say yes, you are married for years and he is in Mumbai or somewhere else and you are visiting friends in whichever town you happen to be in. Or just act completely deaf when the topic comes up. Most Indian women do not answer personal questions and keep quiet to indicate that the question was no appropriate.

- Learn a few words of the local language like help, water, toilet, etc. When in doubt about something, ask another woman or a couple.

- If you will wear salwar kameez (that "Punjabi suit" you'll see women wearing -- baggy pants, baggy shirt and a scarf which is not optional -- you'll give people the silhouette that they are used to seeing and will avoid a lot of unwanted attention from the bold and sex-starved men who will approach you.

- You should also avoid being alone on dark streets at night, and private contact with strange men. Just because they are wearing shirt and trousers instead of a longhi doesn't mean a man has the capacity for the sort of friendship you and I are used to from Western men -- so don't expect that.

- Meet cyberpals in public, in daylight if possible... always. Even at home, this is kind of like saying "don't take candy from strangers" but every once in a while we need that reminder.

- If you're lost or need to know what time it is, ask the nearest woman. Her husband will answer, but direct your conversation at HER. (WOW!!! This is enlightening!)

- If someone touches you, slap him! Scream "pervert"! Take off your shoe and threaten him with that! But that's a last resort -- better to avoid those situations when possible.

- If you are on a train and someone asks if they may please sit on your berth while you sleep -- tell him that you know he would never want anyone to ask his sister that same thing and to forget that idea.

All this being said, you will have a more difficult time in North India than in the South of India. North Indian men are more aggressive towards women - not just foreigners, other Indians too.

Perhaps a burkah would be the answer to our woes in India!!!

But guess what - although the NIMs win this hands down, guess, burkhas are not able to protect these women -

Guatemala, where an impoverished female underclass faces domestic violence, rape and torture. An epidemic of gruesome unsolved murders has left hundreds of women dead, some of their bodies left with hate messages.

Pakistan, women are gang-raped as punishment for men’s crimes.

Somalia, a vicious civil war has put women, who were the traditional mainstay of the family, under attack. In a society that has broken down, women are exposed daily to rape, dangerously poor health care for pregnancy, and attack by armed gangs.

Nepal Early marriage and childbirth exhaust the country’s malnourished women, and one in 24 will die in pregnancy or childbirth. Daughters who aren’t married off may be sold to traffickers before they reach their teens. Widows face extreme abuse and discrimination if they’re labeled bokshi, meaning witches.

Mali, where few women escape the torture of genital mutilation, many are forced into early marriages, and one in 10 dies in pregnancy or childbirth.

Afghanistan More than half of all brides are under 16, and one woman dies in childbirth every half hour. Domestic violence is so common that 87 per cent of women admit to experiencing it. But more than one million widows are on the streets, often forced into prostitution.

Daughters of Shame by Jasvinder Sanghera outlines in painful detail the horrific stories of women abused and suffering... 'I listen to those stories -- told by women who have been drugged, beaten, imprisoned, raped and terrorised within the walls of the homes they grew up in. I listen and I am humbled by their resilience', she says. It is a long drawn battle - one which is being fought in various parts of the world, behind closed doors and in open grounds, in darkness and in light, in public view and in private; it is a battle without ammunition but the wounds are equally deep, the cries deeply painful and abuse and death as real... Every defeat in this war must be deeply mourned and every victory celebrated and recounted deftly and without apology.

Rishta - Unka Hamaari Peedha Se - Part 2

Following the mail exchanges, here's another contribution to the Peedha, by - well, let's just call him - The Sun...

Sab ko hai apne apne trackeron se pyaar!!

Kartey rahtey hain hum pur nirantar atyaachaar!!

Attrition, Goal setting, PMS yeh to ab hain hamaare sah parivaar

But iss chakkar mein kaise bhool gaye voh hiring trackers ka avtaar..

Jo hasaatey rulaatey bhagaatey tadpaatey..

Kabhi business to kabhi region se dilvaayey queries or formats ki bauchaar!!

Mere pyaare HR ke mitron..

Kar rahey hain hum log apnee strategic competencies build..

Employee engagement in this day and age is

Very much like a band aid while Taliban and NATO are getting killed..

Hai hamaara apna nirantar sapnaa..

Hiring ka mantra to hai raat din japnaa.

Stambhit aur bhramit ho gaye;

Krodhagni mein jala ke..

Hamarey human engagement ke basics ko hila ke..

In trackeron ne kiya hamey ek baar phir dharashayee..

Humaree saasein hain ghabrayee..

Himmat hai sharmaayee..

Data compiling ability hai hadbadai..

Ab aap hi bole.. hum karein ki na karien compile!!

Yeh sab kartey, jeetey martey na kiya kuch bhi itnaa enjoy..

Jitna Ms. B & Ms. Dewdrop ke poems ka dhamaaka.

Thakengey, rukengey ladengey marenge chahey jo tracker maango voh bharengey..

Bus in return kabhi kabhi yeh poems denaa bhej..

Taaki hum bhi ruk ruk kar dukh dukh kar hotey rahein encourage!!

Kyon bhai... theek hain na for our vintage??

Rishta - Unka Hamaari Peedha Se

Warning : This post is going to be in Hindi (and I'll translate it for the benefit of all).

The Background : In my company, there are multiple trackers that we use extensively, to track progress on deadlines, update of recruitment numbers etcetera. Off late, my colleague and self have been creating a number of trackers for certain projects that we have rolled-out, much to the peedha (pain) of my counterparts in HR. The West Team decided (in all humour) to put their peedha in words today...

Reproduced below is the poem they sent to us (South Team) :

Jab se Dewdrop ka Induction (in HR) hua hai,

Pre-inductees ka FORCED business interaction shuru hua hai.

(From the time DewDrop has joined HR, new recruits have been forced to have interactions with Businesses)

Pehle jab kabhi hote the Open house;

Aur Business se HR milta tha jaise someone meeting an ex-spouse,

(Previously, during Open Houses, HR used to meet Business akin to meeting an ex-spouse)

Par ab aalam aisa hai –

Ki HR aur Business ka milna – arranged match se peedith, maa-baap se forced;

Kisi ladki/ladke kii potential se lagaatar meeting jaisa hai.

(But now, the situation is such that HR meets business akin to those girls / guys who are pained by arranged marriages and are forced by parents to meet their potential life-partners)

Jaise shaadiyon ka season saal bhar aata jaata hai,

Thanks to apni Dewdrop, – waise hi panchang jaise ab interaction calendar with THICK PPTs aata hai.

(Marriage season comes throughout the year; similarly, Dewdrop sends us interaction calendars and thick PPTs)

Har baar hum wonder karte hain,

Par naa chaahate hue bhi interaction tracker dekar surrender karte hain.

Par ek khayaal phir bhi dil mein har baar aata hai,

Itni globe maarne ki kshamata aur ppt banaane ka patience bhagwaan Dewdrop ko kahan se deta hai.

(We wonder each time but even though we don't want it, we fill trackers and send them across; however we wonder where does Dewdrop get the potential to give such global gnyaan and patience to make PPTs)

PAR BHAIYON AUR BEHENON-

Yahiin nahin hota khatam yeh kissa,

Aaisi aadatein acquired aur communicable hoti hain-apni South HR Team proof hai iska.

Dewdrop agar performance management ki hai Devi,

toh not far lagging behind is D – our V ‘MAHA’sveta devi.

Kyunki Dewdrop ka atyaachaar toh spurts mein – saal mein ruk ruk kar aata hai,

D ka V toh poora saal hi hamein marwaata hai ( yeh dekho aayi ek aur mail).

(It doesn't end here. If Dewdrop is the Goddess of Performance Management then D is the MahaDevi of V - an HR engagement initiative; Dewdrop's torture comes in spurts but D's V is there to haunt us throughout the year (Look, here comes another mail from D!!!)

Abhi kahan chal diye’ – rukiye rukiye’

Who kaise bhool sakte hain hum,

Who wahi atyaachar joh hum par karte’ hai (now not available) SHBniam.

(Wait guys, where are you'll off to... How can we forget the person who used to torture us so much - SHB)

De dana dan mails aur database cleanup aur ab joining process/ exit process/ confirmation process…wagerah wagerah cleanup mein pehle phansaata hai,

Aur us paar who hans hans kar zor zor se ….aisa lagta hai hamara mazaak hii udaata hai ( karo karo abhi aur bhi hai…types)

Bhai soch soch kar ghabraate hain hum,

Kahaan se laate hain yeh sitam karna ka itna dum.

Hum peediton ka toh kya hai – jaise kaise karte hain,

Par yeh South team ke praani ek cheez toh definitely deserve kartehain…….

(We wonder where do they get such powers to torture us so... we poor souls have no way out except to give in and do the job but the South Team definitely deserve one thing - The Oscars!)

JAI HO!!

To this, I responded thus (On the music of Rock On's Meri Laundry Ka Ek Bill...) :

Humare Trackers Ke Lists,

Badle mein humein milte hain Fists

Bosses Ke Data Numbers,

Jo ban jaate hain Trackers

Pichhle mahinon mein humne aaplogon ko sataye

Kabhi Khud Pe Hanse Aap

Aur Kabhi Khud Pe Roye…

(Our list of trackers only invite the angst from other teams... Our bosses' quantitative targets get converted into trackers... In the last few months, we have pained you'll a lot...At times you'll must have laughed on yourselves, and at times cried)

Kaise Bhulein Aaj ka Din Jo Aaya

Kisi Ne West Team ka dimaag Khulwayaa

Kaisa Pal Tha Jis Pal Unhonein taareefon bhara mail humein paadvaya…

(How can we forget today when the West team sent across their mail full of praise for us)

Humari itni si intejaa hai aapse…

Humari bhi pareshaniyan samaja kijiye…

Hum bhi trackers ke bhoj se dooooooob rahen hain…

(Our only request to all is to understand that we too fill the trackers we create and are drowning in them as well)

Ye toh trailer hain doston…

Aap logon ke Hosh Bhi Kho jayenge…

Dil Bhi Kho jayenge

Kabhi Khud Pe Hansenge Aap,

Aur Kabhi Khud Pe Royenge

(This is just the trailer, my friends... )

Trackers ki bauchaar abhi baaki hain mere yaaron… (On the lines of SRK's dialogue in OSO - Picture abhi baaki hain mere doston)!!!

(It will rain trackers soon, my friends!!! )

Honest Scrap Award

I've just been awarded the Honest Scrap Award by Amal. And just like him, I'm very excited about my first e-award online! Thanks Amal!

I need to fulfill some requirements before I can pass this along to another fellow blogger. To quote from Amal’s blog, here are the requirements:

'This award is bestowed upon a fellow blogger whose blog’s content or design is, in the giver’s opinion, brilliant.

When accepting this auspicious award, you must write a post bragging about it, including the name of the misguided soul who thinks you deserve such acclaim, and link back to the said person so everyone knows she/he is real. Choose a minimum of seven (7) blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Or improvise by including bloggers who have no idea who you are because you don’t have seven friends. Show the seven random victims’ names and links and leave a harassing comment informing them that they were prized with Honest Weblog. Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon. List at least ten (10) honest things about yourself. Then pass it on!'...

I have, in Tag Two, jotted down 25 things about myself... and believe you me, they are all honest!!! :)

But to honour this award, let me write down 10 more honest things about me (and since the rule involves bragging, I'll quote some of the things my friends have written about me at various occasions) :

1. She is one of a kind who makes you wonder if anything at all can be wrong with the world! Nothing can ever stop this ever-so-optimistic and order-freak once she sets her mind on something!

2. Always smiling and always on the go, she is an epitome of sincerity and being on time.

3. She is one hell of a conversationalist who also loves dishing out sound advice.

4. What I like most about her is, the unique ability to view things in an unbiased way,being blatantly frank and yet her very own caring self...

5. Lots of laughs n a naughty smile that keeps u guessing what’s on her mind, n possibly the only one I have ever known to live life by her very own terms!!! If life could be called a roller coaster ride, having her along sure makes the ride worthwhile!!!.

6. The first thing that you'll notice about her is her smile! She comes into the room and flashes that close-up smile of hers and everyone's got to notice her at once (you attention seeker you!!!!). Shez so chirpy she lights up the room with her smile that reaches her eyes...

7. When she's excited, I really start to wonder where she gets all that energy from. She'll simply go on and on and on...really luv her for that!!! She's tough on the outside but inside she's a real softy...

8. She's someone everyone can relate to...and even if you've just met her, you feel like you know her for ages. A person with whom you can share absolutely everything, she's one of the bestest fundooest most TP person I know... a true blue bong who cant sing rabindra sangeet as good as sidey govinda nos....

9. She appeared in Page 3 of Telegraph once!!!

10. Frank, straightforward, matter of fact, simple, having a zest for life, perennially happy... GOOD PERSON!!

There, I've done it... completely, whole-heartedly (and shamelessly!!! ;) ) bragged about myself...

Now, to keep the award going, I would like to pass it on to the following :

Sayesha : I love the way she articulates her thoughts - very simply and genuinely... love her blog!

Neha : She's a wonderful person and I love her free spirit...

Greatbong : Love his blogposts - the sarcasm, the wit, the humour... downright honest!

Mehreen : I find her blogposts straight from the heart...

Meera : Cute Blog

Akanksha : Completely floored by some of her 55-fictions!

Pri : I like the way she thinks!