29th September 1999
This is not a some kind of an autobiography of some one great who has become a star and people want to know what made him real big and all that stuff.
This is some kinda memoir that I have penned down in a retrospective and a pensive mood that has dragged me into a shade of mild depression. I publish this not to confess anything to the world but to vent out my feeling of dejection somewhere deep within me. It has also a reflection of my state of mind as on this day of 29th September 1999. I know it would get outdated with time but should help me know what I felt like on this day. Hence, you should excuse me if I sound somewhat pessimistic though actually I am not otherwise.
As I had iterated earlier, I was born on 4th April 1975. For those who know me well, it may not be of much significance but for those who don’t, I would like to describe my general mind set. I am not one of those gifted with a great intellectual ability or Einstein like brains and depends on his sense of discretion for making judgements.
On the contrary, I am kind of headstrong, imbecile and a childish guy by default, who depends on his gut feel, impulsiveness and audacity for vital decisions.
My earliest memory of my life (as far as I can remember correctly) is of the hammock made from my Granny's sari in which I used to lie around the whole day as a baby.
I did
my schooling till X from Green fields school in Safdarjung Enclave in Delhi.
As far as I can remember, I had a good boy image till then and used to
be unbelievably shy (though I still am).
Frankly
speaking, I don’t have much to write about till then because I feel I was
too suppressed and shy for any thing adventurous.
Then as luck would have it, the fine day my mom asked me whether I would like to shift my school to DTEA, Lodhi road ( happens to be my mom’s school as well). And I don’t know exactly what struck me, (probably I got carried away since I had my old trusted comrade Sai in that school) and I answered in the affirmative.
In high school, me and my classmates used to just freak around, doing nothing but basking in the sun and playing cricket and all sorts of things all through the day and epitomising the technique of killing time.
Most of guys, I realised later, were actually good but considered studying a condescending gesture -- too low to stoop below dignity.
These
were the days when I was first introduced to bunking classes and I broke
out of the shell I was in. I must also confess that during the fag end
of my XII class, I got infatuated with a class mate (for those who know
me well or were with me in that stage, they know who it is and for those
who don’t, I believe it won’t matter) and convinced my self that I should
go and propose her and mustered the courage to do that.
As fate
would have it, it clicked and I was exposed to a new facet of life (angle
se tangle).
Although it didn’t last for too long, but in that phase I felt like an alien and had to drag myself out of it perforce and had to rescind the contract myself. (The reasons etc. I would like to push in the dark side of my mind)
After that I went to college, the I year to Motilal Nehru (Eve.) College, B.Com (Hons), thanks to my happy go lucky attitude and my marks. That was the time I realised the importance of academics in life. I studied quite hard and managed to push myself to Venky.
Here I became an instant success with a Rockers image, thanks to my long locks and the rock band that I had formed, after giving it much fight. This was the time I came very close to my bro and started appreciating his versatility and virtuosity (I considered him a person whom I could fight with in case I needed to kill time earlier).
I then also moved on to a different plateau and wanted to become a musician. The final year in Venky, blew lotsa air into me and I walked six feet about the ground. Christened as Jesus, Pistn Chrysanthemum et al, I was placed in the category of hard-core rock n' roll guys.
I played in a few of shows and was actually excited about this new found career but I soon realised that this was a pseudo world. Though I was dubbed in the echelons of the top notch guitarists I felt completely hollow from inside. Plagiarising a few songs, rehearsing them well and playing them mechanically on stage does make you a grand musician. I wanted to be a Bach or Beethoven but I soon realised that there was a dearth of talent in me and this masquerade could not take me real far.
I knew I was good, quite good -- but not good enough. However, this fact in life exposed me to pseudo life of so called musicians, having females falling all over them but that unfortunately or fortunately that was not my piece of cake. I knew I was not in trade for being a Casanova. ( To improve my music sense I later got enrolled in a veena class which I still attend but I have my doubts still with the kind of practice I put in.)
Out of college, did not have much to do and hence I got myself placed in the organisation my dad was in, working for no remuneration at all. Life was hell, since my pop was in the same company at a senior level, I did not have much of free hand to try out my finesse. I remember the way I had to stand in the airport queues, shelling money out of my pocket for auto fare - just for nothing in return.
Luckily,
I submitted my papers in IIFT and with some fight I got selected for a
PG course there.
Day one
at IIFT, I had seen the honour board and resolved that I shall have my
name on it. I crammed and crammed all through the course, missing out on
several things and ultimately made it there (don’t have the name on it
still but I have sent a complaint letter to the Director recently). On
the day of my convocation, when I had the Gold Medal in my hand, I felt
like Cassius Clay (those who have read our NCERT English book may know
better) -- really bad for missing out on several things for nothing.
Then was my induction into the corporate world. All charged up with the bookish knowledge, I got placed in an export house. Unfortunately, my immediate boss was quick to take a disliking for me, and I became the whipping boy.
I was placed with a battery of fashion designers, whom I consider actually corny. They came late into the office daily having torn rags in their hands they called swatches and would sing an eulogy praising them with adjectives like "how cute" and "how nice".
Moral of the story - the so called creative people have to carry their image and behave in a peculiar manner to make people realise how actually creative they are.
I did not gel well there and in a fit of frustration I quit. I decided I would do an MBA and took CAT and crammed whatever I could (I have taken it twice after that and I got real close but a miss is as good as a mile). This was the time when I actually improved upon my English and took to the habit of reading. Unfortunately, I was not selected but fortunately the endeavour inculcated in me a passion for PG Wodehouse and other good writers. I also got enormous time for introspection and for the next few months I did nothing but played cricket for a district club.
After applying in about a dozen organisations, I got a job -- a job in the fullest sense and offered no scope for building a career -- selling space for a yellow pages. This was real ego busting for the man they call Prabhu and who never dreamt of anything less than a merc to be his car. But the things the job taught me were enormous. Getting kicked out of offices but still maintaining the standard smile and giving bull to people.
I stayed there for two months pushing my resume to the people I met and finally got a decent break in an export house ( only got that status recently).
Still maintaining the enthusiasm after my PG I tried to push thing initially. I did everything, experimented with things that came to my mind. I believe this organisation taught me lotsa things but international business. I know I have my boss in my mailing list and he has my net address too and it seems like walking on thin ice – but I am sure he won’t take it otherwise ( a nice guy to have as a pal but probably not as a boss - delegates too little I ‘d say ).
I am still in the same organisations office penning my thoughts and still pondering over things. Gotta go and watch the match - there is a TV upstairs – I hope India does well)
But I guess I have for grown out this places and it is time to venture out elsewhere.(Chal mere dil kahin aur chal, aisey duniya se di bhar gaya, dhoond ley aur koi ghar naya)
I know I might have sounded on a grave tone through out but I admit that this essay I have written only to vent out my feelings and phew -- It sure feels better.
I know I shall be engaged in this sort of Quest all through my life -- "in search of excellence".
As Bon Jovi (used to be one of my hot favourites when in college but not now) would put it:
" I don’t
know where I am going, only God knows where I ‘ve been;
I’m a
devil on the run, a six gun lover, a candle in the wind."
"…..still I look you in the eye because I believe in things I‘ve thought and I’ll die without regrets for the wars that I’ve fought"
And in words of Simon & Garfunkel:
"In the
clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries a reminder
of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger
and his shame - 'I am leaving, I am leaving' but the fighter still
remains"