The beginning

We stepped out of the Corbett Link Express. It was a single platform station. I loved it. There is something fascinating about single platform stations. Probably, it is the mystery involved. You don’t know what to expect.

This was Ramnagar station and the day was yet to break. It was cold like hell and the whole place was misty – smoke coming out of our mouths as we spoke to each other. A perfect situation to have a hot cup of tea.

But the autowallah was already there with a placard in his hand and within five minutes we were off for our resort, shielding ourselves from the chilly breeze that hit us through the open gates of the auto.

At the resort, we were a given clean and cozy room. As we explored, I stepped into the verandah and the sight left me awe struck. Below the verandah was a small stretch of fields, beyond the fields, a gurgling river, beyond the river were the mountains, covered with dense forests and from between the mountains, the sun had begun to send signals – “I am about to start my journey for the day.”

The sky had a streak of magenta and the clouds above were a bluish grey. It seemed too beautiful to be true. We saw the sun rise through the mountains and as it did so, the reddishness dissolved, giving way to the brightness of a brand new day.

Yes, this was the beginning – not just of a brand new day – but that of 3 unforgettable days, when we would pamper ourselves with an overdose of nature’s beauty, when we would feast our eyes on awe inspiring mountains, rivers – at times calm and deep, and at times, bubbly and mischievous and forests – dense, deep and mysterious.

Selected Snaps from my trip

Selected snaps from my trip

Time stops at Moradabad

I stood on Platform No. 2 of Moradabad railway station, waiting for my train to Varanasi. The station provided a perfect picture of a typical Indian railway station. The crowd, the vendors, the hawkers, the noise, the filth, the confusion, the chaos.

I have a strange fascination for railway stations even at this age. The railway system is a huge leveller. From the well to do, who travel in 1st class to the poor, who travel in the crowds of the unreserved coaches, at the end of the day they reach the same destination at the same time and when they reach their destination they have the same thing on their minds - "I have reached."

Getting back to where I was, i.e. on Platform No. 2. In front of me was the station building and a troop of 10-12 monkeys were playing on its roofs. There were quite a few monkey - kids among them. I was observing them with a lot of interest. The younger ones, full of energy, were clinging on electric wires and chasing each other. The older ones, their enthusiasm, much reduced by their agea, sat watching over their kids and cleaning each other's coats. At times a little monkey would suddenly run to its mother and cling on to her. Probably he had had a fight with his cousins.

The Laws of nature are universal and this was a clear manifestation. No matter how much we complicate our lives in this modern world, certain things remain so simple yet so beautiful.

Behind me, on Platform No. 3, stood another train. It seemed to be a local passenger train and was crowded to capacity. I hardly took any interest in it. Sometime later, I walked down the platform to buy a bottle of water. As I did so, I came across a coach with the particulars of the source and destination of the train mentioned on it. It read - "Delhi - Shamli - Delhi - ..... " The next moment I was more than interested in that overcrowded train.

'Time Stops at Shamli' is one of my favourite Ruskin Bond stories, in which, out of sheer curiosity, the narrator steps out of his train at Shamli station. The story goes on to describe Shamli and the experiences of the narrator there.

For once I wanted to step into that train, to go to Shamli and have a look at the station and the place. Is it really a station with one platform, one fruit seller, one little girl selling ribbons, one tonga and one hotel? I have my own picture of what Shamli must look like and it would feel nice to have a real look at it. In all probabilities it would be completely different, but how wonderful it would be if it really turned out to be what I had imagined. Probably, the little girl has now grown up.

Gyaan ki baat

Today I was asked by someone to answer this question in abt 100-150 words.

"What is your version of education? How can we move towards a knowledge society?"

Now writing unecessary gyaan is something I don't really enjoy. But still, its an opportunity to write some real senseless yet pseude stuff. So this is what i wrote :


Intrinsically, education is built up of two words – knowledge and virtue. Without either of them, education is incomplete.

Quite often, education is misunderstood as a single dimensional variable, supported by academic and professional qualifications. However, education is a much wider term, which aims to mould the thought process of an individual, imbibe in him a set of societal and cultural values and provide him with such academic knowledge, which enables him to contribute towards the development of oneself as well as the society at large.

Moving towards a knowledge society does not mean more text book education. To achieve the goal of successfully creating a knowledge society, we need to broaden the horizon of our thinking and be prepared to absorb whatever we come across in our daily life and learn from them. Apart from this, we should also be prepared to share our knowledge base selflessly with others. A knowledge society can be built if we acknowledge the fact that we remain students all our lives and that each day brings with it a brand new set of goodies, ready for us to absorb and apply.

LOLZ

Random

Saw a beautiful dream last night …

We were going somewhere in a train and I asked her if she had ever imagined that we would be traveling this way some day? She said never, and allowed me to rest my head on her shoulder.

At that point of time, I felt a strange kind of satisfaction. As if, the storm that has been blowing inside me for quite sometime has calmed down. As if, I have found what I have been searching for.

But alas, the storm continues to blow and blow hard. I wonder if it will ever stop. The fear that it won’t makes me want to just give up everything.

But then there is something called “hope” – probably the most powerful word in the English dictionary. The word that gives me the energy to brave this storm inside me. The word that keeps the candle burning.

We come across times when nothing seems to be going right. The last one year has been that kind of a year for me. Though I have had a good academic year (which is a huge relief), in many other respects it has not been all that great and I must admit that mentally and emotionally, I am undergoing a lot of stress.

But just to cheer myself up, I’ll look at all the positives of the year:

i. Price Waterhouse: The experience of working at an MNC, the very fact that a name like PWC has been attached to me has added a new dimension to my life, to my career. I will not say that my experience at PWC has been all that great, but still, it does feel good when someone asks me what I am doing and I reply “I am working at Price Waterhouse.” I have found some good friends and I also share a very good rapport with my peers and seniors.

ii. Trip to Punjab: A two week audit trip to Ludhiana was a very enjoyable experience. The work pressure was not too high and it was a welcome break from Calcutta. The best part was an 18 km bicycle ride on a Sunday afternoon, exploring rural Punjab. It was an awesome experience. A day trip to Amritsar was also very enjoyable.
[http://new.photos.yahoo.com/kushal_mast/album/576460762324861960]

iii. Self Discovery: The last one year has been a year of self discovery. I have realized that I am capable of doing big things in life. In this one year, I have had to take up the responsibility of managing finances and at the end I think I have done quite well. I have made some mistakes, but then it has been a huge learning experience. I hope that by the next year, I shall learn the art of making money speak.

iv. Proposed trip to Jim Corbett: Health permitting, I have trip queued up to the Jim Corbett National park next week. Badly hoping that this trip falls in place.

v. Acads: Will not speak much about it, but had it not been a good academic year, I would have fallen prey to depression.

vi. Friends: I also realized that I have a couple of friends who really care for me. Their true friendship has also been a high of the year

That’s it then … feeling much better … lolz

Memories

I have always maintained that a boys' school bus is one of the most interesting places in the world.

A story of 13 years ago ... I was in class 3 that time. In the morning, on our way to school, we used to go over the Durgapur Bridge. Just beside the bridge, a group of young men (usually 5-7 of them) used to practise karate. For some weird reason, as we used to cross this group of young men, the whole bus would shout the word, "PANDU", and those men used to stare at us with surprise. Soon they began to expect it. Some would smile and some would look irritated. The pedestrians on the bridge were usually caught unawares and they must have wondered what caused the sudden uproar.

If on any of the days, those men were not there, we used to get pretty disappointed. The madness must have carried on for a few months, until one day, we found those men waiting for us at the end of the bridge. They stopped the bus and requested kakoo (meaning uncle ... we called the driver and his assistant "kakoo") to persuade us not to shout, because we disturbed their practise. Kakoo assured them that this madness would not be repeated and then he turned to us and said with a smile that we must have heard what those men had said.

Being pretty decent kids, we stopped the shouting business from the very next day. I must admit that I was quite disappointed. Passing over Durgapur Bridge is still a daily affair and I would be exaggerating if i said that every time I cross it, I remember this little tale. But definitely, at times the memories do flash and there is an instant smile on my face.

It remains a universal truth that life is made up of millions of small moments of happiness, which we usually fail to take note of, but then they do come back and help us muster a smile, even while we are not in the best of our moods. I am being reminded of these lines by Wordsworth :

"When oft upon my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood
They flash upon my inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude.
And then my heart with pleasure fills
And dances with the daffodils."

Note: Nowadays I cross that bridge in PWC bus and I wonder how it would feel if those men get back to practising karate and all the employees in the PWC bus shout "P A N D U"

And amidst the sea of nostalgia … the pen begins to flow again

Not been a very long time …

Diwali 2005 was the eve of CA Inter and I remember that I was worried, very worried. It was going to be the toughest examination of my life and the time had come when the hard work of almost 1 year would be wrapped into a small package of 6 days, on which would depend a lot … probably my career. I had never faced failure till then, and it was a well-known fact that the greatest of warriors had fallen prey to this unpredictable enemy. It was this fear of failure that lay at the root of my tensions.

What followed, was something I had dreamt of, but had never expected to come true. I managed to do decently well in all the 6 papers and I knew that the chances of my failure were almost negligible but to end up as the Eastern India topper was a real dream come true.

But as I achieved this dream, I lost something that I had never dreamt of.

Diwali eve 2006. Again I am sitting on that very desk at which I must have been sitting last year, just that, instead of scribbling problems on accountancy, I am writing this stupid blog. I am still worried, very worried, but this time I don’t know about what. It seems that I am fighting an endless battle, but this time the enemy is unknown. I don’t want to be a warrior anymore. I just want to surrender. Probably I am bit tired. But the laws of war do not allow that. I have to keep fighting.

And as I walk over my shattered dreams

Memories draw blood from my heart

The waves of nostalgia hit me on the face

For some weird reason I fail to fall

…

The kite is still flying

Why doesn't the kite fly the same way it used to?
Why has the wind changed its direction?
Why am I muscling to keep it afloat,
Whereas yesterday the wind was doing it for me?

No longer do the colours flash in the background of
Sun playing hide and seek with strange shaped clouds.
It's a plain white kite moving lazily across the horizon
Trying to cut clear of the antennas and tree tops.

Waiting for a gust of wind to get it into its elements again
The kite stays afloat with the candle of hope burning
I look across the expansive sky and spot a movement in the cloud
Is it the old breeze blowing up or just an illusion?

Murderous Intentions

One thing I desperately want to do right now is to kill Himesh Reshamiya. With the slum people playing his "noisy n nosey" songs since yesterday at more than a 100 decibels, I feel like tearing my hair apart.

God, why does he vent out his frustrations on innocent souls like us?

I never knew that singing through the nose in a cacophony of all kinds of tech music is a cure for constipation.

An evening at the Maidan

The other day (the evening before my B.Com Hons paper) I happened to take a stroll down the Kolkata Maidan, my hands clutching a book and my eyes following a couple of kites, each trying to assert its supremacy over the other, in the background of the majestic Victoria Memorial and I realised that heaven is not far away, that is, if you associate heaven with freedom.

To see young kids play cricket brought back beautiful memories when even I used to spend half of my summer hols with a bat in my hands and the other half either thinking about the day gone by or planning for the upcoming day. (I have lost count of the number of times I must have played cricket with Sachin, sometimes at the Lords and at other times in my backyard, in my dreams).

There were others playing football, and though I haven't played much football, Ankur and I had a hearty laugh remembering the racket I, a 9 year old kid, had created at home, when I wanted spiked football boots for some silly interhouse football tournamnent and was promptly refused. In fact, playing football in muddy slush still appeals to me, but I neither have the time nor any company to do the same.

And then there were the kite flyers ... the street kids belonging to the same clan as I do. For me, kite flying is more that just a passion. It has a symbolic importance in my life. And that reminds me that this season I shall be flying kites with Rohit. In fact, had it not been for kites, maybe he and I woudn't have been as great friends as we are. Together, we have created a little universe of our own, in which we have our own lingo, our own methodology. Our dress code is usually ultra short pants, faded t shirts and sunglasses. The fore fingers of our right hand get scarred, like those of Arjun, the only difference being that his fingers were scarred by the string of his bow while ours get scarred by that of the kite.

And then there were the species that you expect to find at any public place in this city ... the eternal lovers (bhalo basha couples). The protocol I noticed was that the couple came on a motorcycle, parked it at any empty spot in the vast grassland, and made themselves comfortable under the coziness of their vehicle. It was something new I was seeing and it kind of amused me. I was also slightly jealous of them. The weather that day was good and it would be nice to have a walk in the anonymity of the maidan with someone special. Just that I am yet to find that someone special. [and just to clarify that even if I would have found my Ms. Special, I would not like to get as cozy as those people, in the public !!!]

Today I carried my latai to Varun's place and we had planned to fly kites in the maidan, after studying for tomorrow's exam for an hour or so. But alas, the Rain Gods weren't too pleased with our plans, so I have deferred my plan of flying kites at the Maidan to some other day.

And yes, to conclude, I did get hold of the No.10 Argentine jersey today (as I had decided to do, while writing my previous blog).

World Cup 2006

The Football World Cup is round the corner and as usual I am gearing up to support Argentina. Hopefully I'll get hold of a No.10 Argentine jersey.

But I am not very sure whether I am really looking forward for this World Cup because the one person with whom I have watched all football tournaments, be it World Cup or Euro Cup, will not be there to share my passion.

I distinctly remember how Dad and I woke up late till night watching football matches. It was all the more enjoyable because we always supported the same team, but had totally different attitudes. He was an out and out pessimist and I never lost hope until the last moment. At times we used to get into an arguement because of this difference of attitude, but then there lay the fun. And I remember that Ankur used to enjoy the most. Being a rather touchy kid, I used to get a bit upset at times when Argentina or Germany would not do well and Dad would get back to his pessimistic ways, and he would get some weird pleasure out of this paradoxical situation.

But as they say, times moves on ... at times we hope that we move back in time to relive those golden moments, but then, we know that it is just not possible. The other day I read somewhere that the biggest obstacle in moving ahead is the wall of the past... trying my best to overcome that.

But the bottomline remains ... Soccer World Cup shall never be the same (until maybe my son turns out to be an Argentine fan and we sit n watch matches together... hope keeps the candle burning).

"Dreams lying shattered in the aftermath of the storm
They are just broken pieces of glasses - reflecting memory of days gone"

Missing the craziness

I have 3 very simple dreams:

- To see Sachin Tendulkar score a blazing century at the Edens
- To watch a live concert of Pink Floyd
- To travel across Europe with my love interest (and yes the gondolas of Venice)

This is the real Kushal - the crazy Kushal.

I have madness bubbling inside me, but I just can't let it out. I have to be sensible and good. There are things I am supossed to do because of a million reasons and I just can't ignore them. And over the next 3 years (i.e. PWC years) I don't think I'll get an opportunity to do all the mad things I have always yearned to do, but haven't been able to - a trek in the Himalayas, a week at a Wildlife Sanctuary, etc.

These things seem so distant - nowadays I hardly get to meet my friends even. Everyone's busy with office. Even weekends are not spared and if they are, we feel like spending it with our families.

They say life is not a bed of roses and I completely agree. No, I am not cribbing. I am very happy with what I am doing because I know I am doing the right thing. [Today morning I happened to attend a Gita Class, where it was said that nothing can give more satisfaction than doing what we are supposed to do] Quite right. And then, I only think that doing mad things like those mentioned above will please me ... I can never be sure that they really will ... its just my conception.

But still, all said and done, I am missing the craziness ... getting wet in the rain, flying kites in the evening or simply doing nothing at all ...

" The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river
Forever and ever"

Half Century

So finally, after 79 weeks of blogging, I have managed to reach my 50th blog. It's been a slow and long innings, but though there has been phases of dormancy, my blog is still going strong.

Ok ... Got it ... it is a Test innings and not a one day innings. So taking that into consideration, my strike rate is not all that bad ... something like 63.29

Anyways, as I raise my bat towards the scanty audience, I wish to invite views from the few viewers on how my innings has been ... please oblige... thanks

My Self Obsession

Let it be a day of very honest confessions.

I tend to speak too much about myself, maybe trying to show how good or great I am, while from within I know that I am not all that good really. I want people to have a good impression about me, failing to realize that I should let my actions speak and not my words. In simple words, it is “Self obsession”. I want to be the best, but I am not, but I want others to believe that I am the best.

When Bhaiya says that I try to make others feel that I am doing something very important, it irritates me, basically because it is the fact and as is very commonly said, “Sachai kadwi hoti hai.”

I think that this one weakness may eclipse my many other strengths.

I want to make a resolution – to be what I am and not try to create a false impression of goodness on people by talking too much about myself. I should have the courage to accept my weaknesses and I should try n work on them rather than closing my eyes to them.

Lets see, how far I can do that …

From Rohit

From Rohit

Received this mail from Rohit today … believed that it deserved a place on my blog

:-)

Hey dude,
hear is a small poem for you

i can read your mind ,
and i know your story,
i see what you are going through,
its an uphill climb,and im feeling sorry,im not there
but i know it will come to you, ...dont surrender
cause you can win,
in this thing called life.

When you want it the most ,theres no easy way out,
when youre ready to go ,and your hearts left in doubt,
dont give up on your faith
sucess comes to those who believe it
and thats the way it is.

when you question me for a simple answer
i dont know what to say,
but its plain to see--if we stick together
youre gonna find the way- yeah
so dont surrender cause you can win in this
thing called life.
and thats the way it is.

when life is empty with no tomorrow
and loneliness starts to call
babe dont worry-forget your sorrow
cause loves gonna conquer it all.

thinking of you at this right moment
you will get a hand written letter in 15 days
rohit
10.03.06

Talking Cricket

So I am back doing what I do the best ... talk cricket ... fancying myself as one of the innumerable self crowned experts.

Today i got to see the match, stories of which I shall be relating to my grandchildren, when trying to show them how big a cricket enthusiast I used to be. Maybe by that time scoring 434 in an innings will be like taking a walk in the park, but in today's world it is an almost impossible feat to acheive and then successfully chasing it is, in simple, doing the impossible. That's what I witnessed today. Australia, riding on Ponting's back to reach 434 and South Africa topping that with Gibbs smashing 176 in 111 balls. It was crazy and I consider myself lucky for having seeing the match live.

Talking about Mike Hussey, I think the world missed another Bradman. The way he is playing now, he seems to be ready to break all records, but alas, he came a bit too late and he wont have the time to make it to the top of the charts.

And finally coming to my (and the country's) favourite. What has he done to himself. He, in simple words, is a shadow of what he used to be.

"Where is that glory, that reverence now?"

Frankly speaking, I were to put my money on who'll score the lowest among the top 6 batsmen in the current Indian team, I would put it on Sachin. He's lost it. I dont think he has played even a single "match winning" innings since WC'03. He may have scored some centuries n all, but none of them can be called spectacular. His shots still have the unparalleled quality, but rarely does he stay on the crease for enough time to execute enough number of them, to draw sighs from the spectators. Cutting it short, Sachin is no longer Sachin.

Cribbers

I hate cribbers.

People who keep complaining, talking vaguely, trying in vain to show how pathetic their life is ...

I just can't stand that.

I believe that a person who cribs shall crib no matter how rosy the road is, and a person who does not shall not, no matter how difficult life is.

"With all its sham, drudegery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world
Be cheerful
Strive to be happy"

Trying my best to adopt these lines as the principle of my life

Hey Dad

Hey Dad

Happy Anniversary to u .... wherever you are... missing u badly

just can't help thinking about 1 yr ago...

Price Waterhouse Coopers

Two weeks into my "professional life", I can say that till now my experience at PWC has been quite good.

First of all, I have a good peer circle. Most of the new articles are fun to be with, and even those who are not exactly "fun" to be with, are quite nice people. In the first week we were not given any work, so we could chat in the canteen all day, and that made us good friends. However, none of them are in my group. But still, the people who are there in my group seem pretty cool as well.

I have also gone there with a good reputation. The word has spread in the office that the Eastern India topper is there, so whenever i meet someone new, he already knows me by name at least ... so that adds to my ego :-)

As I said, we were quite jobless in the first week, but last week we did have some work. a couple of day we had to do a couple of self study courses, which were quite pakau. However, I did manage to clear them anyhow. Last two day I had to go to client office. First, I had to go to Sony India's warehouse for stock taking. It was fun. The warehouse was enormous, with thousands of TV's and Music systems and other Sony products. Yesterday I had to go to some NGO to assist my senior in checking the accounts. Though, it wasn't exactly enjoyable, I got chhutti early, so I didn't mind it much.

Anyways, till now my PWC experience has not been bad. I hope I keep enjoying it. I know that I'll have to work very hard and that it wont be fun all the time, but still I hope that I take everything in my stride positively and enjoy my 3 years here.

Common guys ... wish me good luck at least

I've done it ... again

All India Rank 8 ... Eastern India Rank 1 (so it seems) .., n that too in C.A. Inter ... I had dreamt of it but I never expected it to come true ... n now that it has ... i feel like jumping over the moon ... but ohh! I just forgot its a moonless night ....

Life ... as it stands now

Getting up very very late ... hurrying to office ... try to get back home by 6.30 ... waste the rest of the time ... sleep.

No music, no movies, no books, no games ...

In very simple words, this is the kind of life I am leading right now, but in between there is lots more.

Apart from office, my primary occupation right now is playing with my nephew, Vedant (Kutkut, Gattu, Gundu Mundu, etc). At 14 months, he is the perfect age to play with. Half an hour in the morning and all the time after coming back from office, he just clings on to me. It's fun. Especially the way he howls when I come back from office and jumps into my lap even before I can open my shoes. I think he has contributed the most in helping me to get over the tragedy.

Then, Shreya successfully cleared her CA Final exam and now she is a Chartered Accountant ( I am a bit jealous of her). Anyways, yesterday was a big day for our family. I was very worried about her and now we have something to cheer about. I am really really proud of her.

Desperately waiting for my results ... just hope I do well ... at least clear it ... there is no concrete reason, but still, I have my apprehensions. Life will become much more clear then, once I get into full time articleship.

Learning many new things under mama's guidance. Last one month has been a big learning experience and I have to learn a lot more to be able to manage the finances of my family ... I personally feel that it's my resposibilty and I have to do it well.

Another tragedy 3 days ago did put me off for a couple of days, but I think I am becoming immune to pain ... Life isn't very easy now, but then it's just a matter of time ... to rise back to the crest of the roller coaster.

After all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful

- Ruskin Bond