Woman, thy beauty surpass : A Poem

This Women's Day, I dedicate this poem to all the women who have touched my life or continue to.

Woman, thy beauty surpass

Woman, thy beauty surpass the beauty,
Of nature, whose you are the creation best
Nurture is your nature, eve,

From since when I was a seed at first.

You've borne me within and sustained me
Peace I found as a child in your warm breast,
Holding me as I slept and I learned to dream
You instructed me on respect, values and trust.

A welcome gift of life, from the same womb,
You played with me, fought, and you competed,
Taking both of us higher, as you inspired at times
Growing up, my upbringing you completed

Grappling with rules of life as I learned and schooled, you,
Encouraged me, as you taught; and got taught beside
I discovered weaknesses, built strengths as we
Chatted, frolicked, studied and raced side-by-side.

As I labour to earn my bread, you make it fun,
You lead, help, manage, collaborate, critique
With your thoughts, ideas, efforts and lending hand,
You help achieve the common objectives we seek

Destiny brought us together to nurture

Each other, help us grow and nourish our souls
You teach me ways to love and take care of me
As life partner, you share my hopes, plans and life's goals

As friend, you are always there, beside me
To help me get through travails with unconditional support
You are my partner, my advisor, my companion,

My muse, and at times source of soulful rapport.

Woman, thy beauty surpass the beauty,
Of nature, whose you are the creation best

They say you borrowed man's rib to get your form

But you give back so much more; we attest.

-Gowrish

How do you explain this whacky coincidence?

"It's just unbelievable; carefully listen to what I will tell you now ", I told my friend as I took my seat behind the wheel. My car had just been hit from behind, but the statistical odds of what had happened had given me a bigger jolt. While the rear bumper was spotless, I was mentally wrung.

I had stopped my car at a traffic light. Then I had felt a push, more than a nudge, less than a crash, from behind. Mentally cursing the driver behind me for the potential paperwork arising out of potential damage caused from this dash, I got out of the car and proceeded to inspect the damage. Turned out it was nothing. But I still had to give a piece of my mind to the guy who had eased his car into mine. He had already been apologizing as I had been checking for damage. Then out of habit my eyes ran over the registration number plate of the car.

What the? As I read the number the second time, I could not believe it. Wasn't this the same number for which I had placed a gate pass request this morning? I had had a couple of official visitors and my workplace needs prior requests for all incoming vehicles. Then the description of the car given to me by Ms. P played back to me mentally; White Ford sedan. We use the descriptions to help the pass-carriers to quickly spot the cars at the gate. This was a White Ford. Out of requirement, I also needed to place the pass request for the driver. So, I knew his name. But what is happening here. This guy and I are in a completely different part of town, late in the evening, and he has to accidentally dash my car! I know this driver and the car simply because I remembered the details from the morning. Ok, I just proved to myself that I have good short term memory and was able to instantly make the connections. But, what are the odds that a person somehow connected to me, but unknown to me, dashes my car out of the blue later that day in a remote part of town? Doesn't Mumbai nest 20 million people or am I missing something?

Stumped as I was by the flood of recognition that was hitting me combined with the realisation that this was among the whackiest coincidences I have faced in my life, I thought I should share the surprise with the other driver too. I was smiling mentally, but frowning on the outside when I said to the driver in colloquial Hindi "Aren't you Ashraf? And haven't you been driving Mr.B all day? Were you following me? Couldn't you have found another car to hit?" He instantly apologised once again (totally unnecessary, I should tell you), but suddenly became silent. I could see the realisation of what I had told him drawing on his face.The look on the face of Ashraf was a sight to watch; not something money can buy.

Letting Ashraf deal with the absurdity of the coincidence, I walked back to my car and proceeded to tell the unbelievable story to my friend.

Can someone explain this to me? While I see no larger scheme behind what happened, I am unable to comprehend the odds of this happening.

PS: Ashraf is not the real name of the driver; for protecting identity I have changed the name
PS: I am a little kicked about the first PS; I have always wanted to write one like it.

It's irresponsible to be pessimistic. Happy New Year!

While anytime of the day or the year is a good time to reflect upon one's accomplishments and failures, gains and losses, joys and sadnesses, weakness and strengths the end of the year is an apt time as the general spirit in the air aided by sort of unbridled optimism, permits, if not encourages, such introspection. An advantage in taking some time out at the end of the year is that you are sitting at home avoiding traffic going toward not so far locales where annual revelry would be in full swing if not already kicked in. You could do this in a hotel or a resort farther away. But these places are usually priced higher inviting only those 'who are keen to shell out the marked up' fares. So, the introspective exercise might turn out to be an expensive affair.

Anyway, as I sit down and write at this odd hour, unable to sleep for some reason ...

I recall how my year began with doing something new this year. I completed the Mumbai Half Marathon. I did that at my own sweet pace, although, the timing was good enough to qualify me for the 2012 round without worry.

The next month or so was spent in a hospital tending to a close one, not knowing that they will not be coming home and the loss would be there to bear through the rest of my life. While this shook me up, I discovered my capacity to deal with fundamental realities of life. I learned that life's moments need to be seized with gusto, lest it is too late. Say your thanks now, to those who deserve it; forgive those who have been unkind to you, for it is not your karma whether they deserve it or not, but you deserve the peace that comes with the forgiving.

I also discovered the value of values; the value of human relationships. When I needed it, help came from unexpected quarters. It did not, also, come from some expected quarters. What a funny world we live in! We are generally blind to our surroundings. On a different plane, we also underestimate ourselves about how people perceive us. Whatever you think you know, there are surprises in store for you.

I traveled to more new places; a first, traveled below the Equator. I experienced the shorter version of the famed African Safari, briefly lived among a couple of oldest cultures, ate their food, traveled in their local transportation and got a glimpse of the emerging Dark Continent.

I spoke with authority at a couple gatherings and symposiums for bankers and other technology buyers. In my quest for being a better manager and to lead better, I learned more about what works and what does not. A strong balance between efficiency and commitment is necessary to be productive as a team. Striking that balance is the key to success. Something I started last year at work, showed results this year, boosting my confidence. A few others fizzled out, only teaching me that some things are beyond my control and I need to let go.

There is something for everyone on Twitter. I become active and discovered new channels to keep myself curious about some aspects of life. So far, I have not been disappointed, except that I am probably getting hooked on to it.

The economy has taken a dive, globally. There is general dissatisfaction about Indian state of affairs.

But at the turn of the year here's what we need to remind ourselves "We live in times where anything is possible. We live in a world of infinite possibilities. It's irresponsible to be pessimistic".  A friend said " I have a feeling 2012 is going to be a good year. Something good is going to happen." Agreed, mon ami!

Welcome 2012! Bring in the goodies and the toughness to deal with the baddies.

Mysterious Four

Sometimes, it takes a while to see a pattern. And when you see a pattern there is a natural tendency to fit everything that you encounter into that pattern. I am not sure why a string of coincidences should, firstly, cause us to weave a pattern around it. But we do it all the time. Maybe it is natural (like the seasons). Maybe it is thousands of years of mental evolution that has brought patterns to bring comfort to humans. After all, there are festivals aligned to events that no one has witnessed and then there are those that are created by men; the new years day for example, which are directly linked to our annual trip around the sun. In any case, patterns comfort us; trying to find a meaning each time might be vain task. The fans of numerology may shower a satisfied laugh on us, but that's a matter of faith i cannot dispute until i know better. At least, watching in anticipation is very much entertaining. All it takes is a little effort to spot the markers. A small story follows.

This evening i flew back after a long-weekend trip. The number of the flight i took began with a 4 and the remaining two digits added up to 4. I requested for a window seat and was given one on row# 4. I had dinner at the airport, the bill amount was a multiple of 4 . We boarded from Gate #4. I had seen the pattern by now and was watching intently how far this went. We landed ahead of time, as usual it is for this 'sexy' airline, anyway. There was a brief announcement prior to disembarkation that our luggage could be collected at belt #4.

My bag was the first to arrive (not fourth) and i promptly proceeded to the fleet taxi counter. I was assigned a cab whose registration number had digits that added up to 16, square of 4. When i stepped off at the end of the short trip and paid the bill, the amount was a multiple of 16. I walked into our home and did my little routine of bringing the house back up. One of the last things i did was turning  the microwave on (better keep it off the 16 amps outlet when away for a few days). This meant i had to reset the clock and while at the exact instant it was 3 minutes past midnight, i thought there was no harm in waiting for a minute and setting the clock to 00:04.

PS: By the way, i did not pay attention to the number of the taxi that took me to the departure terminal, but, i am willing to bet & even lose a  few bucks (reasonable multiple of 4)  that the number might have been a multiple of 4.

The journey of life and beyond

Quoting a poem extract from The Lord Of the Rings:

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet.
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

-J R R Tolkein

A proud father

A father so proud, of his little boy
He sees himself, only younger, ah what joy
Those baby eyes, show him once more
Innocence he thought was lost in yore

A little outburst, from a nudge here
His toothless smile, from a tickle dear
Lilting laughter, mellifluous like stream
But boy's antics make his mother scream

Tiny yawns beacon the li'l guy to bed
But his curious mind, refuses to be led
His tired body, yearning to turn in
But racy mind, wins over, won't give in

His grit is unnerving, his strength to see
Moving chair, table and things bigger than he
His curiosity brimming, he opens all doors
Scrambling in and out cupboards, on all fours

Doesn't speak a word, yet, says so much
With his eyes, with his cries and his touch
Oh! that puppy face, when he wants his way
Let alone father, the mountains would sway

Everyday father learns a new lesson
Of life, happiness and abandon
Sees each day how the son grows tall
Even as the he feels his own age fall

Father thinks 'wait my son, don't grow, you'
I'm just getting to know now, can't outgrow you
Wait for me, I am growing, at heart, young and blue
Keep playing, and one day I'll be as young as you

-MGP

In Mumbai, there's lot of drama...(Part 2)

(Continued from here)

Scene#1 Take#2:

It's late on a Saturday winter afternoon in a winterless Mumbai. It is very crowded today as I drive from one point in the suburbs to another. 'When isn't it crowded?' are my thoughts as I pull into a traffic light. Trance is playing on my car music system just as I notice that I am surrounded by autorickshaws.

A face peers out of the auto stopped to my immediate right. The sweet looking girl gestures me to roll down my car window. And I think, 'Don't I know this girl? I am dreaming? This has happened to me before. Is this deja vu?' Mind races back to the last time this scene was played out. Four months back, rainy night, traffic, same gestures... 'Oh, I know what is coming. Damn...my instincts were on the dot! I am glad I did not fall for that trick last time',are my thoughts as I cut the music and roll down the window.

Looks can be deceptive. But I feel a little proud for having judged it right the first time around. I need to get this girl to understand that she cannot get away with it all the time. A meek 'Sorry!' wouldn't have the punch. I need to say it like she cannot forget it for some time. But, I cannot make a scene. If a guy shouts at a stranger-woman (by now, all the sweetness about her has metamorphosed into wiliness) who is asking for help, those around you will likely trash you verbally, or physically, before listening to your story. Then there will be lot of honking from those behind me who are not interested in seeing where this goes. The inanity of the potential chaos makes me think we'll settle it the simple way. I only need to get a point across.

So, by the time she says it, I am saying it in my mind, smile on my face 'Sir, can you please do me a favour?'. My smile widens, as I lift up my index finger and say ' Ma'am, I know what you are going to say. But you have asked me for this favour once before, remember?'. I think she does not recognize me. But, I am sure that she knows that I know. She knows that she has slipped this time. She also probably cannot believe that she has tried to trick the same guy twice. What are the odds, isn't it? There are some things money can buy, but the look on her face was priceless.

Anyway, I am glad I had recognized that confident delivery of the request the first time around. I see that confidence again, when she recovers her poise and with sufficient stoicism, responds with 'OK' and then withdraws into the auto rickshaw.


(To be continued)

In Mumbai, there's lots of drama...(Part 1)

Called by many names, Mumbai, as a film city, ensnares people's imagination like no other. Does life mimic cinema or cinema mimic life here? In the continuum of what imitates what, the answer must lie only somewhere at the center. You'll find all flavours of life on the street -romance, fantasy, adultery, violence, deceit, drama, comedy etc- as long as you care to step back and observe. When the regular Mumbaikar cannot escape the real virtuality of the city, how can a simple guy like me? Here's are a few scenes from my life in the past few months...

Scene#1 Take#1:

It's late on a rainy evening of an otherwise quiet Saturday. You might have noticed that when it has been drizzling continuously, things kind of quieten down. I am driving alone from one point in the suburbs to another, cutting across several busy junctions. Now, I am stuck at the same signal for the third time that the light changes back to red.

Just as I am cursing the traffic congestion, the autorickshaw that was , directionally speaking, hanging around my five o'clock pulls ahead to my one o'clock. A sweet face of a girl in her early twenties or late teens cranes out of the auto. Her hand gestures to me to roll down my car window. As I see her eyelashes blinking away rain drops, I wonder whether she is looking for directions. But she is in an auto and usually, it is me that goes to an auto for directions, not the other way round. Anyway, my car window hisses halfway down and I wait for her to speak.

She says,in perfect English, "Sir, can you please do me a favour?" I am all the more unsure about what to expect now. "Sir, I do not have money to pay to this autorishaw guy. Can you please give me 80 Rupees?" My mind races. Something is not right about this scenario. Her sweet voice wants me to believe this is a genuine request. Her immaculate private school educated accent tells me she must be coming from at least a middle class home. I cannot make out what she is wearing, but, someone in her position, I assume, must have a cellphone. Even if she does not have one, why doesn't she wait till she reaches her destination and arrange for money with whomever she is meeting? Maybe, she is even going home now. Either way, asking money, publicly, from a stranger, is not a smart thing to do in my opinion. Doing so exposes her vulnerability. Why is she asking me then?

A couple or three seconds pass as I consider all this. My thoughts are interrupted by her voice again, "Sir?". I have to decide whether I want to dig into my pocket or not. Would it be OK to not give her the money? 'Come on fast', I think. I go with my instincts and decide that the straight face and the confidence with which she delivered her request tells me that she is used to making such requests. Maybe she is just wanting to bill her ride on a stranger willing to help. Circumstances do not seem to be dire. So, I just shake my head and say "I am sorry!" and roll up my window. Her face disappears into the auto and I look around to check whether the light has changed. It has not.

In the background of raindrops falling on my car roof, I think about whether I did the right thing. She did seem sweet, after all.


(To be continued)

No Discounting New Year's Eve

The Christmas to new year's week is usually filled with tension among those who want to put it on sale and those who come to buy it. On one hand are those willing to start their new year with a bang. They will shop till the ball drops. On the other, there are those who want bang for their buck. Bargain hunters will make sure they start the new year with 'new everything' with nothing more than a pinch on their wallet. Then there are those who will, each year, shop one last time before they step into the new year with a resolution to stop splurging altogether. The malls have something for all categories.

The weird thing, though, is if you want to stay at home on the new year's eve, you will not get an offer in just the right places. I was asked to register and sign up for promotions before I could access the downloadable coupons from a couple of top pizza houses in the country. And when I did download them, the fine print did not help my appetite- "This offer is not valid on 31-Dec-2009!" I am trying to recall if this is the case in the United States too. I guess they have special discounts on the turn of the year. Is it because the same chains in India think people here are less imaginative on new year's and would order more pizzas no matter what? Why then pass the opportunity to fill the orders, at full price, from home parties?

Hearing about New year's eve parties is one of the traditional catching up activities you do in the first week. After the first week, it's as boring as talking about last year! Anyway, as you'd have guessed ours was a 'nice' one at home. Sit at home, play with our son and order pizzas at full price; no offers! Don't get me wrong, for a bargain hunter is not really about money. Just like for a kleptomaniac, it is not about the item. Think bigger, it is a middle class value; more like a value game.

But for many the eve went better than they expected it to. For some it almost did. Here are some stories I heard...

One of my colleagues regretted that she and her husband could not go to Goa to one of the progressive trance parties where they ring every new year in. Later, on learning that, this year, the place got busted with a lot of drugs on site they thought it was a good sign of times to come.

Another colleague ushered new year in a resort and for unknown reasons (he thinks it is a case of mistaken identity), he and his wife received more than their share of hospitality. They could not believe their luck when they received as gift a 'three days all expenses covered package at a beach resort'. It was given as a reward for their loyal patronage. But, this was the first time the couple had even been to the city. Would you call that lucky start or what?

You have reason to be happy when you have free couples pass to, I was told, one of the coolest places to be in Mumbai. Named after an exotic amphibian, the place charges a high fee for its new year's party. If all a guy has, to take to the party, is another male friend, then he does not want to use the pass as a couples pass, lest he send out all the wrong signals. So, he should feel luckier that he gets two free passes to cover both the stags. Economically, as one colleague pointed out, this is a loss to a potential couple who could have instead gone free to the party with those two half unused passe. Anyway, this guy lands up and finds himself among TV celebrities and really cool crowd. Or hot crowd as he later corrected himself.

Having the time of his life, he lands up at the bar next to an attractive woman (his description was much risqué). Adrenalin and new years spirits propel him to ask her, harmlessly, if she would like to dance with him. He, however, is faced with the dilemma of answering the question- "How much will you pay me?" Got to give it to the honesty of the guy, unfazed, he replies "What are the standard rates at a place like this? I am new here." 'I charge twenty five thousand' pat comes the reply. Still maintaining his presence of mind and also trying some fishing, if not getting some more free airtime as well as taking a big risk on his reputation or judgement on class (But, no mincing words in Mumbai, they say) he says 'Isn't that a little too high even for today?'. Looks like this woman is ready for anything, she says 'For you I will give a 10% discount!'. That response, to me was simply Manoj T Shyamalan-esqe unanticipated. Tell me if you hear a better one than that in all of 2010!

Like I said, if you are into buying something, there is someone selling it for a discount on new years. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case with pizzas delivered home on New Year's eve.

Spook of numbers and names

Let me first confess that I am posting this stranded at a domestic airport in a city which is usually in the news for being lashed by rains. This time, however, force majeure in The Capital has impelled me to look for something to do for two hours in an airport that has very little to offer by way of anything to do. There is a massage parlour;'Massage, My foot!', I think.

If there were a South East Asian kitchen here, I would have relished each bite knowing very well that the voice that beckons me to the airplane (and always makes the mistake of putting kindness in the wrong place saying "all passengers are kindly requested to proceed toward the aircraft") will not wake up for sometime. But alas, there is only junk food all around. The vending machine has only magazines from God's Own Country (and I am nowhere near there). Thank heavens for little mercies such as wireless broadband.

Anyway, talking about coincidences...

A few months back, I joined a company the name of which shares most of its characters with the name of my previous employer(Note: Each has its own place and brand in the industry and it is a part of my job to make sure my current one shines brighter). The initials of names of the companies are the same. The last building I worked in the last job carries the same name as one of two office building I shuttle between nowadays. Remember, I am talking about two different cities here, my stay separated by a year and a half.

Last year, a new generation of car got introduced and it caught my fancy. Even though I knew very well that I would be graduating in a downswing year, I developed a progressively stronger desire to possess one. My wise wife brought me back to reality. But by then I had already mail-ordered the car brochure to our address in the campus. You can say that the intent to buy the car was established. It was about this time last year. Anyway, in the milieu of hectic job search, all was forgotten. One year hence... I have rented (rented) a home and bought (hypothecated) a new car. Both will 'arrive' next week. Why am I ranting about all this?

Coincidences continue- both the car and the complex that I have rented share a part of the name. But that's not what excites me the most. A couple of days back, my wife just pointed out to me that the 'door number' of the house we are moving into is the same as that we had last rented.(The same one to where I ordered the car brochure).

So, if you get the flow some names and numbers have been chasing me for a year and a half. Somehow they have gotten linked across months and places. It is like being in a continuum of numbers and names across time and space. Some of this has bothering me. For someone who believes in astronomical alignments, this will be a minuscule case study. For someone likes numbers, this is a good example of statistical congregation of sorts. For someone who believes that inner and probably sublime processes of the mind driving man's actions (a la Freud, who said there are no accidental actions?) I am really getting it going, isn't it?

But, darn.. maybe it is just that the airport is getting to me and that I am a little desperate, not having posted in a long time.

Ah, there it is.. the voice "All passengers are kindly requested to proceed toward the aircraft". The kindness of this public address is indeed painful.

Up and down in Mumbai

Mumbai, the big city of India, teaches you something new every day. The last six weeks have been full of hopes rising up and hopes falling down, traveling up and down, moving up and down and looking up and down.

For the most part of last three weeks, the small talk has revolved around the delayed onset of monsoons. Wiping beads of sweat off their foreheads, people glance up at the sky and shake their heads down in disbelief that rains have beaten them in to the sultry mid-summer. Kids though too happy to go back to school, also probably wonder when it will be called off for a day or two when the waters enshroud the roads and bring productivity of the city down.

My second day in Mumbai was spent learning firsthand the vicissitudes of life on a ‘local’. My local batch mates from IIMA-PGPX had planned a meeting, it so happened, on the day after I landed here. Living with a few relatives until I moved into the company guest house, I was left to figure out how I could negotiate the forty kilometer distance from uptown Borivali to downtown Colaba. The first evening I watched trains at Borivali station cough out people in a hurry and suck in people in a hurry. Two and a half decades back, as a kid, watching trains was apparently an obsession with me. After work, my parents would take me to the nearest level crossing where we would watch trains until they got bored or I stopped jumping with joy, or both. Watching what was going on in the Mumbai local station did not bring up any of those fond memories. Anyway, I had a task to do the next day and my wife’s cousin and uncle had one of their own that day. They had to ensure that their esteemed (tch! tch!) relative was well taken care of and trained enough to travel safely up and down the busy chest of the big city. The next day, while I had no problem getting to Churchgate, on the way back, I learned not to underestimate statements made with respect to the local. I had been warned 'let the Virar local go, you have to take the Borivali local'. But, I thought that warning was too much to be taken seriously at midnight. The Virar passengers take it to their heart that someone would take a Virar local to Borivali when the latter has a train all to itself, last stop Borivali. And they showed this to me the hard way. The carriage full of people standing on each other’s feet, would only allow people in and refused to let me out. (Stepping out and into locals is not how it works in India's city that never sleeps) Jumping out of a train slowing gathering speed, I learned it is never too late (read as never too restful) on a Mumbai local, time of the night notwithstanding.

Lifts, the ones that take you up and down, of all kinds is another thing that one needs to get used to in the Big Apple of India. Tall buildings are not built to impress; they are built to sustain. Sustain the ever growing population of the city that shelters (or not) the fourteen million aspirants and the arrived. But unlike many other cities, Mumbai had learnt many decades ago that it needed high rises. Hence, the variety of lifts in the variety of buildings. The modern one in our office is not always as predictable as the old collapsible-grill kind in the guest house building. The former, though computerized (ahem!) has a mind of its own. Back at the guest house, one has to remember that the lift is not automatic. And this learning did not come to me automatically. One evening, a bunch of kids rushed in shouting ‘wait, lift, uncle, wait’ (or was it ‘wait, lift-uncle, wait’?). I smiled and opened the door. The little people took over the charge of lift operations. They pressed some number and I said ‘Six please’. The little girl did not respond. So, I looked down at her and said ‘Six please’. A little irritated, she looked up at me and said ‘Uncle, this is not automatic. You press Six after we go out’.

Like I said, Mumbai (small or big) teaches you something every day.

Gatecrashers unlimited

"Come on man, where will you get this chance again..." by the young-at-heart and fun-loving and older-than-me VM was evidently enough to get me into gatecrashing into an MDP party on campus! For those who know me well, this is not quite how I like to do things. The question of gatecrashing into a party of strangers would normally be out of question.

The second term has been quite a ride. It began with a slow pace of classes. Since the PGPs came back to school after their summers around the same time that our second term started, our profs have been pulled in different directions leaving considerable void now and full capacity later in our class schedules. This has at least helped us catch up on as many as three hard bound books on strategy and leadership that are a part of required reading over and above the course material. At best it given us time to think about what we want to be doing at the end of 8 months.

The roller coaster that the first term was landed us right into a drag pool of water and it took us a couple of weeks to get used to the slow pace. I say this despite having already written a couple of mid terms and surprise tests and innumerable reports. The action started with our place comm asking us to build a wish list of companies that we want to individually consider. That information would form the basis of the efforts that team would spend in its mission to getting us what we want (not need!). Having gone into a pensive mood and out, we have probably been trying to make the best of the time we have around here; the current macroeconomic and political situation of the nation notwithstanding.

No wonder then that talents have been tumbling out of the wardrobes of many people. In preparation of TNite (The traditionally PGP T-Nite has since PGPX's inception included the latter in its scheme), ideas on posters, themes, skits, songs, shouts, music and even nicknames are pouring out for what the batch wants to make an unforgettable week. In that spirit, I have been sketching and painting with oil pastels, something I have not done in the last eighteen years or more. My wife has been getting her hands dirty with camel skin bristles and Camel Oil paint. Quite a cocktail it is when we play 'Comfortably Numb' and 'Shine on' while making pencil marks on the drawing cardboard.

In the midst of all this happy commotion 'normal life' goes on. It being TGIF meant that SP and I spent our evening in VM's room with high spirits and over an HBO (etc.) movie. This goes on till dinner time after which we go to the dining hall and then home (to our families). Today, by the time we finished the movie, it was about 9:27 PM, three minutes before close of dinner. It was raining when we made a 300 meter dash to the dining hall and sprinted up to the first floor.

But in this rush, we did not miss the disco lights and loud music playing in the ground floor dining hall. Seated upstairs we could feel the high decibel bass vibrations. That was when VM suggested that we join the party after dinner. I reminded him that we did not have an invitation. He said that I was missing the point and added what I said at the beginning of this story. If he says," I have done this a hundred times. It will be fun", I can think it is a trap or I can simply believe him. I was almost sure we would invite dirty looks and VM that we would be welcome.

VM was right. During the course of 70 minutes of shaking and moving to the music, we were made to feel that we were indeed welcome and that the last-day-of-MDP crowd was glad to have us fill up their dance floor. A couple of guys from our batch, who joined us, left within a few minutes. Our Cultural Rep, TJ, was aghast at seeing us there. She had been attracted to the music and was there on the agenda of probably striking a deal with the DJ. In any case, our efforts to get her into the crowd were futile. I sweated out the high spirits and cool down the stressed out mind and body. When the DJ unplugged the music system, we thanked the MDP folks for letting us gatecrash. They said they had fun and wished us well for the rest our the eight months at PGPX. Apparently, a month of case studies had done them in and they were glad to be going home.

I totally enjoyed the evening. After all, the best things in life are 'illegal', 'illicit' and ephemeral!