African KuKu

Kuku is a very delicious, colourful African dish made of chicken and lentils/beans. This flavoursome curry can be served for lunch or dinner along with rice or chapattis. Some of the ingredients mentioned below are optional.

Ingredients –
Chicken pieces
Ginger paste
Lentils/beans
Finely chopped onion
Peeled and chopped tomatoes
Mexican green chilly
Lemon juice
Coconut milk
Fresh coriander
Black pepper

* Apply the chicken with ginger paste, pepper powder and salt. Keep is aside to marinate for some hours. Cook the lentils in and keep it aside. Meantime chop the onions, tomatoes and green chilli, most importantly relax and get some fresh air.
* Heat the oil (coconut/vegetable) in a pan and fry the chicken pieces until it becomes evenly brown. Make sure not to fry it in high flames. Transfer the chicken into a plate and leave the oil in the pan.
* Add the chopped onion and garlic into the pan, fry it for 2 minutes. Calmly add the chopped green chilli and tomatoes. Cook for another 3-4 minutes until it is evenly cooked.

* Add cooked, smashed lentils into the mixture followed by coconut milk. Add lemon juice to make the sauce more sharp. Stir the mixture evenly and simmer for 5 minutes. Add the fried chicken pieces into the sauce and cook for 15 minutes. Add finely chopped coriander leaves on to the sauce. Sprinkle few drops of olive oil. Once cooked keep the curry with closed lid for some minutes.
* It’s time to eat mouth watering curry, which goes perfectly with steamy rice. Don’t burn the mouth which apparently happened to me. I couldn't wait to let the curry n rice to cool a little bit. This juicy creamy coloured curry easily gets along with rotis or chapattis. This could be prepared during any celebrations and serve to
our dearest.

Yogapelapaz

Introduction of Yoga during the early 1950’s into the mainstream west brought a renaissance of cosmic relationship and nifty life. Since then remarkable visibility of this phenomenon, Karmic Yoga become pervasive and perch high above all the geographies. B K S Iyengar, Paramahamsa Yogananda, Osho are few of the many Indian masters who practised and taught Yoga in the West. Simple, transcendental, vibrational meditations and many other types of meditations became immense popularity in the last few decades. People in the west are known for their sheer unrestrained dedication and exploring the intricacies of 21st century through the medium of Yoga. Yoga masters, books and videos are of high demand in the west.

During my visit to Brazil, Dani introduced me to her Yoga teacher, who practises and teaches Yoga for over two decades. She taught the session at her beautiful house. She charmed her students with eloquence and benevolence. Without cringing and premeditating I accepted her invitation to take Yoga session at her beautiful residence. It was a formidable challenge because of the time constraint and the language barrier. She gifted me a t-shirt which had an inscription “Yogapelapaz” and very traditional Brazilian coffee chocolates. Dani is her favourite student, friend and daughter.

On my first session, I was introduced to a bunch of mixed aged pretty female students. I gave a very short and crisp introduction about Yoga. I enchanted couple of prayers in a hushed rhythm before commencing with the asana. I showed them the extended and hybrid version of Pranayama. The session continued for almost 30 minutes and I wrapped up the session without dawdling on lectures. Later session was attended by my family. Pai, Mae, victor, uncles and aunts represented from Dani’s family along with other students. Initially I was in a swamp of decay as my beautiful family glued their eyes on me. After the session I smeared Vibhuthi on all my students’ foreheads. Photo sessions followed after the every session. I saw a halo of happiness worn around my students which gave me confidence and an indication that I have something to cherish. Dani was my translator and she was remarkable, spontaneous and synchronised. She cajoled, “Pooja you can do it”.

Next days, I took couple of sessions exploring some new techniques to the next bunch of students thereby expanding my service. Some of the students were kids, teenagers, and Dani’s patients. The students were smart, liberal, inquisitive and calm. The students crawled in my proximity and posed for the photo session. I was treated a like celebrity Yoga guru and they lined up for hugs and kisses. We formed the famous “circle of love” with a radiant smile and place our arms around the shoulders.





My Learning: I was not simply an instructor there, but I was a keen learner and an explorer. The sheer and ardent dedication of my students enlightened me the significance and the magnitude of this incredible culture. No wonder why yoga has found a place in their heart. The west has an impression that, all the people in/from India are either yoga masters or religious followers of yoga. But to unfold the truth, Indians are breached by contriving vicious globalization and yoga finds oblivion under the concrete blocks. Recently an increasing trend has shown up for giving high importance due to the change in lifestyle. People rather forget the fact that yoga is not a set of predefined exercises or asanas for good life, but it is a culture irrespective of any religion or creed, a magnanimous path to tranquillity and salvation.

50Rupees aka 1$

How will your day/life changes if you get 50 bucks? Hmm...Clueless..Breathless... Phew jerk, I am talking about 50Rs not 50$.
A 50Rs is approximately 1USD. A litre of petrol, half Kg of apple, 1 Kg of rice, half kg of chicken, bribe a traffic police, a badminton cock, a bottle of local beer, a pirated movie CD, a “readers digest” magazine, ..Etc. The minimum I spend a day is around 2-3$. The average daily income of a common man in rural outskirts is around 50Rs. Has the value of 50Rs plummeted relatively?

Let me reminisce an incident, during the midst of 1994, an uninvited gentleman knocked our doors. He politely claimed to be a police man not in a regular outfit. My eldest brother has just successfully cleared an interview with a huge public sector and the police man has been sent as a part of the verification. (Verification is a process in which the candidate’s whereabouts is closely studied, measured, scanned and a report will be crafted). The report gives a brief about the behavioural nature of the candidate and the observations from neighbours and friends. Apparently the short cut to get a composite and healthy report is through bribe. (Remember we are talking about the most sacred, diversified, corrupt democracy of the world. Listen what Gandhi said, “Work is worship”).

The surprise visit has to be prudently indulged without any fizzle and unfortunately my parents don’t have a single penny to bribe, as it was month end. We were in dire straits. Papa ordered my second brother, Giri to borrow 50Rs from an uncle (vaman uncle and aunty) who hails in the perimeters of our house (5 minutes run). Giri, unruffled took the back doors, jumped the fence made a stunning beeline to Uncle’s house. He gathered the footsteps in aplomb, hastily galloped and tweaked through the boulevards with an approximate rhythm like Carl Lewis. He returned after 20 minutes with 50Rs and was pounding faster. He couldn’t feel his maimed feet and sat on the veranda and commented “I should try for 100 metres Olympics next time”.

The police man hesitatingly accepted the bribe and left happily. It was an unexpected incident in our family which remarkably found the fruit with the steadfast effort of my brother. Giri was proud and delighted for his accomplishment and in the chaos my parents forgot to appreciate him. But he neither piqued nor gouged

We often forget the past, the roads we travelled, the heydays, the mountain of challenges and success. It is not a rocket science that the money will come today and vanishes tomorrow. An excerpt from Gita,“What have you lost, that you are weeping? What have you bought, that you have lost? What have you made, that have been destroyed? You bought not anything. What you have, you got from here. What was given, was given here. What you took, you took from this universe. What you gave, you gave unto this universe. You have come empty handed and shall go empty handed.. What is yours today was somebody else's in the past and will be somebody else's in the future.” These incidents remind that value of money is relative to time.
At least these currency notes remind us of the smiling Gandhi.
Hail Gandhi ....Hail 50Rs.

My experiences with the familia....

The bus was cosy, flossy but I was dizzy, drowsy and messy. Dani and I are heading to the family home (casa) at Espirito Santo do Pinhal from Sao Paulo. I am supposed to be thrilled and excited as I am being introduced to my other half of the family for the first time. As usual, Dani slept on my shoulders and I watched the vivid ceremonies of the nature through the window. The highways are wide, organised and well directed. The landscape is absolutely out of belief with legions of green serene coffee and eucalyptus plantations. Dani’s siblings Julio, Marianna, Daise came to pick us at the highway. One by one they embraced me and gave a tight hug. We got into the car and I sat sandwiched between Dani and Marianna in the back seat. Julio drove us to the family house

Mae was at the corridors anxiously waiting for us, infact to see Dani and I together. She walked towards me and gave an even tighter hug than the siblings. She was looking brilliantly pretty and blocked my way with Portuguese greetings. It was lunch time and family gathered around the dining table. The lunch was rich with traditional Brazilian cuisine (beans, rice and lentils) and fresh green salads followed by a sweet pastry as desert. Dani was my translator and we plunged into conversation pertaining my Brazilian ventures, work and family. We cracked Jokes which added flavour to our lunch. After lunch Mae proudly showed her paintings and Dani guided me through the house.

Later that afternoon Dani took me for a drive through the country side and the city centre. We covered the churches, schools, university, boulevards and hot spots of the small city. We then met the grandparents, aunt Regina and couple of local friends. I was so popular in the city that everyone knows about Dani’s Indian Hindu sun soaked software Engineer boyfriend. In the evening we attended Mae’s cooking class, which entered the last day of the season. Students served us with traditional and delicious Brazilian dish followed by wine and pastries. They queued up to give me hugs and kisses. I answered them with hand gestures and lip movements like a deaf and dumb instructor. After the dinner we reached home and Pai was home watching TV. He instantly said “hello Pooja, tudo bem?”, I was awestruck and replied “muito bem”. We exchanged handshakes like CEO’s of multibillion dollar company and a light weak hug which spoiled the hugs I received on that day. Victor was shy and went to sleep early. I slept at Dani’s bedroom and Dani at her sister’s bedroom. Her room was small, but elegant, organized and neat. Her bed was soft, cosy and I wrapped myself with the soft quills. The altar has idols of Hindu gods, antiques, incenses and our framed picture. She hanged my painting which I gifted her on the walls. But that night was the worst, humiliating, disgusting nights I ever had.

The next day I woke with bitterness and Dani guided me to the dining table. Mae has prepared coffee for me and we had a heavy breakfast which included variety of cereals, cheese, butter, bread and cake. Dani then took me to show the farm house. The most interesting part of Dani and her life was her super swank farm house. Floras and faunas lived in harmony. They have oranges, avocados, bananas, cherries, mangos, papayas and plethora of Brazilian fruits. There is swimming pool, children’s playground, basketball court, small grass court for football, timber mill and beautiful out house where Julio stayed. The coffee plantations and eucalyptus trees acted as a fence which prevents unauthorized civilians to enter. There is small lake separating the farm house with the neighbouring farm house. And the entire farm house is guarded by 4 dogs, chickens and horses. We were followed and entertained by Charlie, chiquinha and chalitha.

The following days we visited her grandparents, cousins and friends. I paid a hurried visit to her clinic and colleagues. I played football with Julio, Victor and Bruno. I even accompanied her to see her doctor and received some advises. And on our way back from Campinas we picked up her police uncle, Ricardo. He proudly showed me his Russian made pistol which weighed above 5 kgs. When we reached home, we had visitors. Dani asked me to get refreshed and asked me to wear her favourite shirt. I got refreshed and wore the red shirt and blue denim jeans and went to the dining hall. I was shell shocked by the crowd inside the house. The atmosphere was pumped up and the crowd received me like a rock star. I was the in house DJ, Paul Van Dyke. I saw Dani in the other corner of the room and she waved her hands with an abducting smile. I tried to edge slowly through the crowd, it was worse than the traffic in Bangalore. The gathering consists of uncles, aunts, cousins, colleagues, patients and children’s. After lots of action packed adventure, hugging, grabbing, clasping, cuddling, hobnobbing, like an ambling bull I successfully reached the target. The dining table was packed with variety of snacks and drinks. Along with kisses and hugs I received gifts (perfumes, idols, paintings and clothes). Ricardo and his fiancé gifted me with a wine and a shirt. Adding splendour to the soiree all the ladies wore bindies. Everyone wants to talk with me, but unfortunately my hand gestures proved fatal. I carried little Maria for a while. After photography session all the visitors gathered outside at the basket ball court. We formed a circle and Dani thanked everyone for their participation. The surprise was a well planned joint venture by Dani and her relatives. After all it was the “mother of all surprises”. Everyone left happily and it was the most memorable evenings in my entire life.


On my last at the family house, siblings dropped by my room and gave a tight hug and kiss. I saw wet eyes on my siblings and a silent request from deep down “Pooja please don’t go”. I sat on the bed watching Dani’s expertise on packing. Next day morning, Mae dropped us at the bus station and she gave me a tight hug. My eyes become wet, but I resisted. After 4 hours of travel we reached Sao Paulo to spend our last day together. We visited the majestic and magnificent Ze church and new Sao Paulo city. The concrete blocks gave me an impression of NYC. We met Silvia, Dani’s teacher and attended her session on EMF. It was breath taking and I cried a lot. Finally after a momentous visit I gave her one last kiss and took the flight back home.

The visit was the most incredible and mesmerizing thing i have done in my entire life. A decision which i took all along with the backing of Dani was awe inspiring to many other couples. I thank our family, friends and God for feeding us with strength, courage, support and bliss. Last but the least, I thank Dani, without her I would have never achieved this glory.

In the world of surfing

A surfer skate is 5 inch in length, typically sleek stretched oval in shape and aero dynamics, light in weight which effectively adhere the principles of buoyancy, a nifty product of fibre and the perfect Yamaha of wave mongering millions of steadfast surfers cross wired across the globe. Ocean surfing is one the most exciting, adventurous, skilful, dangerous aqua sport. It has boasted tourism in many countries like Australia, Brazil, Japan, USA .etc which has the most elite and perfect conditions for surfing.

During my vacation in Brazil with Dani I got an opportunity to visit one of the beautiful beaches in Sao Paulo State, Bertioga and Riviera. The overwhelming beach shore which extends about many kilometres, not deep, white sand, parties, crowd, restaurants, football and playground for bikinis around 24/7.

My encounter with surfing skate is accidental and unforgettable. We stayed in Dani’s relative’s house fully furnished with variety of sport accessories. Seeing the surfer skate an accidental wish sprouted and I decided to go for surfing, a sport which is not in my account to cherish. It was a pleasant evening, with skyrocketing hope I carried the skate board proud on my shoulder and marched. I gave an impression of a super surfer persona and I squared my shoulder. The beach was less than 5 minutes walk from the villa. I traipsed through the beach shore to find out a suitable location for surfing.

To my surprise the beach was deserted, no one neither swimming nor roaming. The water was dead cold with absolutely zero waves and chilling breeze sabotaged my daring wish. I sat lobotomised and took deep breath. The mission was abandoned and I walked through the shore, carrying the skate. Skate accompanied us to city centre, supermarket and some shops. Initially the skate was on my shoulder, later I started to drag by pulling its string on the ground. The people in the street gave me a bizarre look. I started to feel embarrassed and groan followed by growl; my folly has left me in extreme disaster, anguish, agony and fizzle. Finally after hours of despair carrying the skate board for about 3-4 kilometres I reached home and kept in the exact location from where I took it, with awestruck “respect”.

Certain wishes of human beings are cynical and out of the boundary limits. Ego, the driving flawless force pushes humans to the extreme limits and fizzle out those who are not prepared. My experience was funny, learning and self realization. But I am sure, I will break the limits with iron claws. Kudos surfing!!!

How did I celebrate onam this year?

I am lucky to be born as a Malayalee. Every Malayalee is infact lucky. Malayalee across the globe celebrates Onam, the proud product of Kerala history. It is the mother of all festivals in Kerala. Kerala is geographically located in the southern frontier of great India, typically well known for its majestic beauty, incredible backwaters, flamboyant festivals, coconuts, politics, exotic beaches, exquisite cuisines, sterling arts and unfolding history. In short, Kerala is coined as “God’s own country”.

During Onam, people welcome the most powerful, potential, prudent king of all times in Kerala,Mahabali from hell, which was brilliantly engineered by Vamana, a form of Lord Vishnu. On this auspicious occasion, schools, colleges, offices are closed, relatives gather, festivals in temples, shopping spree and variety of activities which has to be experienced with naked eyes. No festival in the world has this classified uniqueness and amity, Muslims, Christian’s joins along with Hindus; communists, congress and other numerous political parties join hands, hundreds of dishes, rare gathering and composition of foreigners from across globe and many, leaves onam a unique mystery.

This year, 2009 was welcomed by the usual suspect and thriller of every Onam, the rain. It is a phenomenon proffered by nature, which leaves unforgettable experience to every Malayalee for eons. This showering is celebrated by floras and faunas. They dance, sing and shares this magical moments with fellow credo. I watched this spectacular hobnob through the window with feeling a tad lazy. Ironically, the whole country experienced 20% less rain than normal rain fall, result of global climatic changes.

I came home this time to achieve certain expected and predefined tasks and action items. Amma, papa and I are the participants of this onam. Vals, my eldest brother cannot make it this time and unavailability of Giri, my second brother has become a tradition, as he is repeating history. I have to push both Amma and papa for consulting with a famous orthopaedist. Amma has difficulty walking; her right knee has protruding and cannot keep her feet on the ground for a while. Papa’s battle with varicose veins continues and he is undergoing an ayurveda medication for last 4-5 months.

My ambitious tasks started with organizing and cleaning the principal room, followed by rest of the bedrooms, dining and toilets. Gathered all the newspapers both English and Malayalam to be sold out, went to the estates (plots) with Asokan, who usually does the business of plunging the coconut from the coconut tree; collated and set fire to the dried leaves; washed both cars; captured some flowers and insects in D60; bought provisions, vegetables and fruits; and the unwinding list goes.

Another onam passes by, and I am the same old anxious spectator. But I am lucky and proud to be a Malayalee.

Word movies this week [UTV]

This week I got the novel opportunity to watch handful of historic movies based on true events in UTV channel, exposing a rare blend of realities and persona. Here are the synopsis of few.

Buenos Aires, 1977

Buenos Aires 1977 is a Spanish movie about four young men among many other, who are kidnapped by Argentinean secret military agents and were exposed to brusque torture, spasm, questioning and captivity for nearly four months. They narrowly escape death and were rewarded with freedom at the end. The movie was based on the testimony from the 2 surviving victims. The movie exposed the true nature of the military regime during 1977 and following years. Argentina was under nasty, brutal and fatal military rule for a while, which led many nationals to find refugee in neighbouring countries and some fled to Europe. Civil war continued to pull down the military rule, and who ever involved in leftist organizations were kidnapped, exiled and murdered.

To End All Wars

An adaptation from the autobiography of Ernest Gordon, sharing the world the events occurred during World War II. Captured by the Japanese forces, the captives are moved to concentration camp in the epicentre of the jungle highly guarded by armed Japanese forces. The captives undergoes heavy torture, brutal beatings, diseases like malaria, no food, . The motive was to build the majestic Burma Railroad in a short period of 18 months. Ernest Gordon inspired by his fellow mates and fulfilling his dream, formed a support group and exchanged knowledge which resulted in the formation of “Jungle University”. He was almost killed by a deadly virus, but survived. His extensive knowledge in philosophy, history and English boasted the fellow mates. He took paramount effort to educate and inspire his fellow mates who have deserted their hopes and faiths. Attacked by the allied forces, the Japanese troop abandons the labour camp and finds in the jungle. Gordon builds a mounting friendship with liberal, kind English speaking Japanese major.

In 1990, both met in the memorial tomb in Thailand and prayed for those died in the labour camp. Gordon joined the Princeton University after returning from war and he was dean for 26 years. The Japanese major become a Buddhist monk in Thailand.

The counterfeiters

The German movie released in 2007, portraying legendary Jewish counterfeiter Salomon Sorowitch, nicknamed “sally”. He was captured by the Nazi and was send to concentration camp at Sachsenhausen during World War II. Delighted by his skills, the Nazi generals introduce him into operation Bernhard, a clandestine effort to crunch and flood the British economy with forged currency printed at the camp. He teams up with a group of Jews estranged from families who are experts in different kinds of paper forgeries, heavily guarded and under the radar of “Hail Hitler” soldiers. No other alternative to life and closed doors of escape from the camp, he successfully develops prototypes of banks note and floods Britain market. To safeguard the fellow Jews he was threatened to develop American dollar negatives. The allied forces attack the camp and the German forces abandon the camp.

The movie won the best foreign language Oscar at 80^th Academy awards in 2008. The movie exposed the brutality of the Nazi forces against the Jews in the concentration camps. Operation Bernhard remains as the one of the biggest forgeries in the history. It produced about three times the British reserve bank.

Lucky Miles

Lucky Miles is an Australian feature film released in 2007, a conspicuous exhibition of continents vast geography and illegal emigration. A bunch of illegal immigrant’s lands somewhere in the vast coastal region and head’s towards Perth, a major port city. Groups are split and wander through the terrain and are lost. Some are caught by the guards and those who escaped experiences horrifying heat and terrain covered with desert sand, gravels and family of cactus.

The film unfolds the illegal migration which is widespread and hostile conditions of those immigrants. The government of Australia has taken proactive measures to stop illegal immigration. It is a warning to those who ............

Welcome to existence, welcome to Pico do Jaraguá

Pico do Jaraguá, highest mountain range in Sao Paulo state, with an untold history it sits 1135 metres above sea level, is labelled as World heritage site by UNESCO.

Here is my escape to haven with my family to Pico do Jaraguá.

My group, in descending order, Dani, Julio, Bruno, Daise, Victor. We started after the lunch from family house in Espirito Santo do Pinhal in car, which was infact in a bad state. We stored our arsenal of food which included variety of fruits, ripe and sour, and drinking water. Six of us then squeezed inside the car, Julio was the transporter and he exhibited his driving skills, which almost took my breath away. Notwithstanding the horrible damaged road conditions, like Schumacher Julio geared up, blew off the dried leaves from road, showered the tree trunks with the streams of water flowing through the road and bombastic noises produced by the car in frequent intervals. Squeezed in the back I did a 180 degree rotation of my head to have a glance, but I could see only the dust and smoke emanated by the car.

After the voilent turbulence, we finally reached the top of the Pico do Jaraguá. With a tingling bliss, tranquillity at the end I stood on the grass, hands wide open like Jack in the Titanic, took a deep breath and enjoyed the mind blowing panoramic scene, silent for a while. Serene, sky exposed variants of blue color, mountains hid under the flamboyant clouds, colours in equilibrium and beautifully disciplined plantations, vast farmlands. The air was so fresh. I was lost and found.

It was said that we can view about 20 cities from the top, cities and building blocks like small bricks placed on the ground. We jumped, clicked, posed, laughed, sang, played football, visualized our dream coming true and it was complete and composed.

The trip left me with enduring and captivating memories and opened the corridors of ecstasy, a meaning of life, happiness and love. I was like a child, lost weight and age, with innocence, emptiness and bliss.

Humans are sharper when blind

A village in early 40’s or 50’s in Japan which was haunted by gang wars, killings, heavy taxes and left freedom and security at stake. Fight between the two lousy gangs increased and deceased many of the followers and innocents. A highly skilled ronin enters the village and offers his service to one of the gang leader as a bodyguard. Meantime a visually challenged elderly samurai, Zatōichi also finds a place in the same village as a masseur. A geisha siblings joins the party as well seeking revenge to slain the murderers of their parents. Both the ronin and masseur did magic, wonders and consummate skills with their swords. They moved faster than light, they cut slice the enemies in a flash, their swords smelled blood, their swords spoke, invincible to be defeated and for masseur darkness was his medium of execution. Masseur says when a human is blind, he is sharper, and with the instincts of senses he attains deeper concentration, accuracy and clarity.

The masseur enters the gang courtyard and saves the geisha siblings and executes a blasphemy, makes a beeline to the ronin who was expecting him. He kills the ronin and leaves himself injured. In his court of darkness (justice), he is the god and destroyer. Shortly after the deadly massacre he kills the actual gang lord who has hidden his identity from the society and worked as helper in “sake” (Japanese drink) cafe, who was the actual mastermind behind the geisha sibling’s parent’s murder. He finally opens up his eyes and tells the slain boss that he recognized him at the first sight in the cafe. He then traipses and falls. He says “We fall, even if we open our eyes and walk”.

The movie is a composition of Takeshito Kitano’s directorial connoisseur, ecstasy, elegance and delicacy. No wonder why Quentin Tarantino was influenced by Kitano. He played the incredible role of Zatōichi in the movie which received unprecedented applause. In the movie he fudged the blood flushing out in the killing sequences with incredible graphic splendour. Since the release of the movie in 2003, it has been accepted widely in abroad.

For decades he has been a critical player in the Japanese film industry. He felt his presence in the industry as a director, actor, film editor, screenwriter, poet and painter. His movies are classic with extreme indulgence to silence, edgy dialogues, idiosyncratic themes and radiant action sequences. He uses the state of the art technology to push his movies. His creations have gifted the world of movies with character and silent charisma.

Good work Kitano, We honour you!!!!

mother of all "Panic"

I reached 11:20 AM at GRU airport in Sao Paulo 10 minutes earlier to the scheduled arrival time. I got the immigration cleared, collected the baggage and made a beeline to the restroom to get refreshed and applied some cosmetics. It was my first much awaited travel to Brazil in an endeavour to meet my girlfriend’s family and people. I marched out of the international arrival terminal; my supple eyes started scanning for my girlfriend who was supposed to receive me at the arrival gate. I stood at the gate for a while with an incessantly beating heart. With butterflies in my stomach my eyes undauntedly spearheaded in scanning and got married to a monk’s patience. Patience finally turned to ignorance and negligence....

I slowly traipsed and schlepped the heavy baggage out of the gate, like in the movie “Terminal” starring Tom Hanks I wandered around the huge four storied airport with ceaseless hope. Panting heavily I run back to the arrival gate again and redo the scanning. Hours passed and I was deeply immersed into frustration, censure, anger, languished and corrupted. There comes the uninvited guest of the century, Mr Panic. My mind was boggled with myriads of unimaginable negative thoughts. “Am I being cheated?”, “Did she fool me”. I was completely mugged by panic at point blank; I struggled interacting with my limited arsenal of Portuguese words and came up with no definite solution. I don’t know what will be my next move. Should I take a flight back to home? I lost hope......

I roamed through the blocks and finally was able to find a telephone centre. Luckily the lady in the centre spoke broken English. She made a call to my girlfriend’s mobile, which gave weird responses like “this telephone number is invalid”. Adding to my delirium, panic and frustration I made another call to her home. Her mother picked up and gave a positive message that “Dani left home in the early morning to the airport”. My panic started to subside and I felt guilty, relaxed and energetic.

Like the song “Brighter than sunshine” by the Aqualung my girlfriend finally appeared in front of me (after 1 and half hours), she made a beeline and swooped on me, gave the tightest hug of the century and a kiss of wisdom, courage, confidence and divinity. Due to some technical glitches, the display in the airport showed a wrong arrival gate and caused the panic.

The root cause of this panic is Mind and thoughts. My mind was clouded with negative thoughts; I should have patiently waited and communicated properly with the airport officials and could have avoided this nasty panic. Thoughts neither have shape nor have forms, thoughts doesn’t exist, it is the invention of mankind. Refrain from thoughts, thereby opening the doors of bliss and enlightenment. Let the mind be the host and thoughts be the guests, never let the thoughts to be the host......

Climbing a level higher

Promotion has become a culture, a “promo” culture, where each aspiring candidates muscles to impress and showcase the management. Those who execute the game plan with due diligence and confidence will be rewarded. Those who are denied with promotion will be devastated and makes imminent decisions (like quitting the organisation, acting rebel, antagonizing the management etc). Organizations apply strategies while promoting a person to next level, promotions is just a mere designation whereas monetary benefits are minimal in most cases with increased responsibilities. In IT (or any field), promotion plays a key role in organizing the community (hierarchy) of people associated with this industry.

Let’s invest some time exploring about the certain aspects/elements of promotion in IT culture.

Impediments in promotion:

- “Expectations not met”, a highly fabricated terminology. A person who is “inefficient”, degrading performance, recurring issues etc falls under this category. (Based on facts).

- Feud or spats with supervisors or managers, engaging in logomachy on petty things, undermines the fact that the resource is highly productive.

- Neither visible nor interactive to the team. Lacking energy.

- Flaks or issues with client team.

- Raise demands like “promotion”, “onshore”, “roll off” etc,

- Browbeating the peers with resignation or other plausible causes.

- Not adhering to company policies like violation of security, sharing confidential information’s etc

- Not participating in activities outside the team like cultural events, outings etc.

Ingredients for promotion:

- “Flattery”, “buttering”, kneel down on knees..Etc. a major guideline for the promotion.

- “Exceeded expectation”, a person who has proved highly efficient, conducive, smarter and proactive.

- A good mentor, invigorating the team with new ideas and learning’s.

- Talk a lot, followed by a gush of flattery.

- Give a blind naked smile or nod for all the blunders popping out of the peers.

- Never say “NO” to peers.

- Never ask “Roll off”.

- Lenience to opposite sex, especially women candidates have higher advantage.

- Involve and participate in activities outside team.

Let’s contemplate the impacts/symptoms before and after in a promo culture.

Before:

- Commute in local BMTC (Karnataka) bus.

- Fag Gold flake or booze old monk (pertaining to any local brands).

- Schmooze with those who are being denied from promotion for a long time.

- Hide from people who are already promoted belonging to same group.

- Disturbed, disappointed, disillusioned, dejected. Clouded with anger and hopes vanished.

- Work really hard but without interest or spirit, with increased delirium.

- Keep away from beloveds, friends and family.

After:

- Commute in expensive hi-tech Volvo bus.

- Fag Dunhill or booze Jack Daniels (pertaining to standard brands).

- Interact with high end folks, peers or same genre.

- Usage of highly concise IT verbiage. Talk out of the box and work less

- Expertise in delegating tasks to team.

- Excel in excel sheets.

- Effluence in synergy, multi-tasking and thirst for activities

- Hanging out with friends and family, frequent travels.

The purpose of promotion is being defeated these days, the deserved are denied and management is corrupted. Promo culture is highly complicated, but it’s not a rocket science to embrace. It’s a reality, face it and prove it. But when we become a peer, make sure to reward those who deserves unbiased. Learn and acknowledge mistakes. Appreciate the team and encourage the team, be a part in ups and downs of the team. Be a good Team player.

Well, I am a casualty of “promo” phobia!!!

The shadows of Che Quevara

Recently I bought a color poster of Che Guevara, photographed by Alberto Korda which was declared as "The most famous photograph in the world". I hanged this majestic poster in my living room, which gives a perpetual visibility and proximity. Looking at this poster, reminisces my ardent devotion towards this great hero.

My association with Che Guevara began when I was pursuing for graduation in University college of Engineering. For me in the beginning, he was just an Argentinean paramilitary or guerrilla leader, Marxist revolutionary, physician who organized coups/revolts against imperialism and capitalism. He has engineered many revolutions in Cuba, Bolivia and failed coup attempt in Congo. He travelled across the Latin American countries learning, experiencing and contemplating the basking of colonialism and imperialism which resulted in his most inspiring "The motorcycle diaries" (a collection of his journals, travelogue). Time magazine named him as one of the 100 most influential people of the 20th century.

I became obsessed and absorbed the contents of his ideologies and tried to implement or execute those during my sting in the University. But certainly realized that those are evolved out of the necessities and a democratic country like India is not the playground. A renaissance of communism and Marxism embarked with the evolution of Che, but his iconic charisma and essence of his ideologies has been hugely exploited in the last few decades by organizations and detractors. His image has been depleted/tampered by unwontedly walling his posters in the nooks and corners. His trademark olive green military dress has become the favourites of fashion designers.

I was called Che Poojari dating back my college days. I was engulfed with his theories filled with communism and Marxism. I painted a huge banner of Che which has been walled in many locations and numerous occasions in our university. Recently my mother found out a huge arsenal of posters, banners, flags, articles...etc from my wardrobe. It was amazing that I was able to cover up my leftist ideologies and baggage full of organizational apparatus from my parents. I am delighted that i was able to preserve those.

The shadows of Che will stay alive inside me!!!