Touch and BAM !

Facebook, today is the most effective communication channel, right from who they’re friends with to what they think like, it gives you all, for a few clicks (and the time you spend, stalking :p).  Feeling blah –> Facebook,  travelling –> Facebook, or for Christ’s sake eating pizza –> Facebook. The most important feature, however is the ability to display your emotions, and we, Indians, excel at that. Anger, frustration, guilt, happiness, sorrow, and in some cases even lust, whatever it is that you’re feeling, put it on Facebook and your part is done.

A similar stance happened a few days back, when BBC launched ‘India’s daughter’.

Facebook – ‘What the fuck is this?’, ‘All men should die’, ‘Rapists should be castrated and hanged’, ‘Real men don’t rape’.

Reality – ‘what a totta, yar!’, ‘proper wali patola hai yeh toh’.

Sounds contrary, right? Especially, if I tell you, they came from the same guy. Yes. Small talk with this guy had me thinking, if ever, we’d be able to do something, or are we good enough to just login, post depressing videos, write long posts, or maybe occasionally, go to the streets with a candle lit in our hands. Anyway, this perception got shattered today.

I was on my way to Connaught Place in Metro, when a pretty girl boarded the train. She was clad in stilettos and a dress and was fixing her hair (read: asking for it). In that 15 minute train ride to the interchange station, she must have been seen (read: ogled, checked out, scanned from top to bottom) at least a thousand times by fellow passengers. It’s probably nothing new, happens on a day to day basis in the Delhi Metro. What happened next, doesn’t.

At the interchange station, while we were de-boarding the train and many more were getting in, A man (read: male) probably 27 or so, tried to shove his way in, and in the process, pressed, and probably squeezed this girl’s rack. Can’t imagine right, the intensity of molestation that a girl can face, doing something as simple as de-boarding a train. Most girls would’ve cried or would’ve let it go, but, no, this was no ordinary girl. She caught hold of her molester by his shirt-collar, and with many ‘bhen-beeps’ and ‘madar-beeps’  dragged him out, as the onlookers, watched. With the spat of abuses came a tight, open palmed, bitch slap, right across his face, while the mob still, watched. Then she pulled the guy towards her torso, asking him ‘yahi chahie na chu*iye, tujhe?’ and then, all of sudden, knee-kicked him, right where it hurts the most, in the groin. Many “men” in the mob, like a reflex action, dropped their hands, in an attempt to shield, as this guy fell down on the floor, howling in agony. As the girl, took out her phone and took a picture of the guy she had just taught a lesson, the onlookers were watching, (or maybe they were putting up stauses on Facebook or live-tweeting the entire episode). They watched still, as she walked off to the interchange, and then with a streak of nonchalance came ‘show khatam ho gaya, aage badho’ from somewhere in the mob.

For many, this would be just a story to tell, to family, or to friends, at dinner table, or at cafe’s. For me, it was an ignition, a spark (no-reference to her physical appeal, she was hot!). She portrayed what needs to be done, castration or death is not the right answer, at least, as per the Indian Penal Code, and silent protests, or worse, virtual sympathizing  – A BIG NO! All that’s gonna work, I think, is to teach a lesson, as she taught, to kick ass, as she did. I don’t think this guy would ever, try placing his hand, anywhere inappropriate, on his body or someone else’s.

I don’t know if things are gonna change, certainly don’t know how quickly, if they do. What I do know, is that I felt disgusted to be a part of the mob, that ‘stayed and watched’, that did not come to this girl’s aid, and that is gonna go and narrate this instance to it’s friends. I felt, not molesting is gold, even stopping someone who is, is fine, what I didn’t realize is that the true spirit of being anti an issue, is to be sincerely be anti it, I should’ve come forward, I should’ve kicked his ass alongside.

Like they say, its never too late, I yearn for a safer city and a much safer country, where I wouldn’t have to worry if my mother, or sister or a female friend is out, working, travelling, dining or watching a movie. What’s more is that right from this moment, I’m striving for one. She didn’t inspire me, she evoked me to the everyday ‘atrocities’ she faces, yeah peeps, commuting, partying, dining, working, staying at home, wearing what she wants, all of it, are atrocities. ‘She’ is the quintessential Delhi girl.

Kahaani Khatam hai…Ya Shuruwaat hone ko hai

Ye anna gudgude nad gudgude
Dishkiyaaon Diskhiyaaon Dishkiyaaon

I have no idea what that means, but this is how we used to start most of our days. That’s how the journey had been. So much happens on board the 15 days, that we found the time short to understand the 450 people. And honestly, I could not even introduce myself to the entire lot.

Had heard about the Jagriti Yatra way back in 2012 but was too lazy to apply then and missed the deadline. In 2013, I applied and was selected in mid-year itself. Had completed most of my formalities early on and was excited to be on board that my life took a small tragic turn. I decided to give the Yatra a miss.

And this time around, a few days before the Yatra, I was in two minds – had loads of work at hand in office and I would be off for a good 2 weeks with limited or no net connectivity. But somehow I decided to be on board the Yatra; work could wait. I would have regretted it big time had I skipped it this year as well – still absorbing the hangover with numerous photo uploads and status updates on FB as if my newsfeed has nothing else in store.

Probably I was destined to be on board in 2014 – after all I am a strong believer of ‘Jo bhi hota hai, ache ke liye hota hai’.

I have never been on any short or long trips where I did not have my family and friends along. Days before the trip a bit of curiosity and anxiety began setting in. I was not sure of what to expect from the Yatra – an exclusive train rolling across India. I did not want to go on board with a baggage full of expectations. As they say, the cup needs to be empty to pour in something.

But yes, I was definitely excited and looking forward to it; it was kind of an adventure to be knocked off my super long bucket list. I have always lived in an urban metro, be it Dubai or Mumbai; apart from the short occasional trips to meet my grandparents in the distant rural India. This was an opportunity to meet 450 people from across the world, transcending both national and state boundaries; people from urban and rural areas being under a common roof (other than the sky) for a period of 15 days did excite me.

It was about listening to 450 stories. Everybody has a story, just that all are not spoken about. I was not sure if I had a story to tell; probably my life has always been a closed book. I wanted to go just to make some new friends across the country, listen to them and probably lend a helping hand in the daily chores.

The stories began on the first day itself when we would informally introduce ourselves; thanks to facebook and whatsapp we already knew many of them by name. We did not want to find common ground or areas of interest. We wanted to find ourselves on the other side of the Yatra. And relgion, state, caste, colour, creed, gender, nothing came in between our introductions or conversations.

We knew each other by their face and work and not where they belonged to. This was one of the best examples of ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’; none of us did. Since, we did not know anyone before hand; none of us were actually judgmental or had a preconceived notion – a welcome break from our daily metro hustle. We did not have to break any prejudice; we could start afresh.

I am not so keen to talk about the role models – though all of them inspired us in some or the other way, for me the real journey was with the Yatri’s – that’s how we fondly called ourselves.

There was someone whose brother was murdered a month back and she was demanding some answers from the people, a young lad left the US to fulfill his dad’s dream to work for the development of Indian villages, someone who travels the length and breadth of the country with a backpack, someone who rebelled against the society village to sell handicrafts, a 20 something cycling 1000kms to be on the yatra, about protesting against government policies; coming face to face with naxals etc. The stories were endless, the inspiration was infinite.

The Yatri’s were a mix batch of students and entrepreneurs, a great urban and rural mix; the only common thread being the zest to do something. Several introverts decided to board the Yatra to give their life a new meaning and my respect for such people grew manifold.

The Yatra definitely forced all of us out of our comfort zone. Sharing your living space with complete strangers over the course of the Yatra was a bit jittery initially. But then the train was our home on the move for 15 days. Eating, sleeping, bathing, gossiping and discussing on board for 8000 kms is definitely an exhilarating experience. My cohort and bogie mates became my immediate family members.

The personal boundaries just faded past as the time on the train began to elapse. Discussions moved from where are you, what you do to who was their first crush or when did they share the first kiss. People spoke about their heart breaks and low points in their life with such ease as if we knew each other from 15 years instead. We even did gossip about the on board flings ;).

We cared for each other when the other fell sick on board, ensured that all of them boarded the train on time, took care of each other’s belongings – it had been really long that we had treated everyone around us with the healing human touch.

Time flew by but we know for a fact that we made some friends for a lifetime. Sometimes you need a lifetime to know the other person but in our case just the two weeks were enough. There were people with whom we spoke for hours and built a bond and had lots more to speak about and then there were people with whom we had just a conversation and struck a chord.

We spoke about those days in life when we were bogged down by personal issues and the low points in the last 2 decades of our existence and also on the other side about moments that meant a lot to us – the high points. Most of us slept for less than 6 hours a day but we were still excited for the ‘garam hai garam hai’ breakfast served to us right from the pantry.

Many of us did not even bath more than couple of times on the Yatra but lived out of a deo. Sleeping bags and inflatable pillows were our beds on the journey. We were devoid of all comfort and yet the peace within us was inexpressible. #FreeHugs were available in abundance whenever we felt homesick on the Yatra.

On certain occasions when we interacted with school kids from the rural India, we learnt to live life all over again. Playing dodge ball, Frisbee, volleyball, langdi, badminton made all of us go back to our childhood days. We danced to the tunes of rains with them.

I consciously tried my best to stay away from whatsapp, emails and calls and it did work like a charm. I successfully stayed away from FB for the entire journey and not for a minute did I have withdrawal symptoms. The kids did not need a cell phone or an internet connection to be happy. They did not let the ‘likes’ and ‘retweets’ of the world to tell them that they have had a great time. We run behind superficial happiness, these kids taught us what happiness in life actually means. It brought out the kid in us. Growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional.

Personally, I am a very insecured person. But after meeting the Yatri’s and the kids, I realized that I have nothing to lose then what the hell am I so insecure in life about?

I know for a fact that I may not literally stay in touch with more than a handful of people over the next few years; but am I going to sit there and cry over it or just live the moment? The kids in the school had a gala time when we were around and their smiles made me forget everything else in life. My friends have been a major support system is the past several years, specially the fact that I stay away from my family – the base just added a whole new bunch of awesome folks.

The Yatra got me out of the thinking zone rather over thinking zone and take things in their practical context and not in a hypothetical ‘what if’ situation.

We lived life like there is no tomorrow. We partied on board the train on 31^st night and brought in 2015 in great style. We sang songs around bonfire on a cold night in a village with all our sore throats. The Yatra made us all realize to do things that keep us happy and it doesn’t matter if you are a bathroom singer or a crappy writer. You do not need others approval to do what gives you the requisite satisfaction.

We were inspired by the villages, industry and NGO visits with an equal awe. We travelled across India with halts at 12 cities with different offerings. We braved the heat, the rains and the cold, we loved the solar lit village at Kalkeri and we equally loved the awakening we had on a cold Delhi evening by the Goonj man, we were moved by one man’s mission to change the Tilonia village to another man’s mission to build one of the biggest IT companies in the world. We realized that Agriculture, Technology, Education are the sectors to look out for and entrepreneurship is the trending buzzword.

We battled changing weather conditions and 50 shades of shit; we fought, we laughed, we spoke, we built, we cried, we presented, we inspired, we cared, and we LIVED during the 15 day Yatra. And as they say, the journey is more important than the destination, the fact that I am not on a moving bed and I’ll not see the Yatri’s for ages is yet to sink in. I know it’s a little difficult to move on, but as they say, ‘chalti ka naam gaadi’ or in the language that we Yatri’s understand – ‘Keep Moving’.

The Jagriti Geet bound all of us Yatri’s in a very peculiar way. All of us would be super enthusiastic and could dance to the tunes of the Geet anywhere in the world no matter how exhausted we would be. It was an invisible chain that tied all of us through the Yatra.

To quote a friend, ‘the Yatra changed us in more ways than one’. We all discovered a side of ourselves we never knew existed. We did not undergo a major transformation, but small small changes in bits during the Yatra made the overall difference.

After the Yatra, when I met some of my non-Yatri friends, they were shocked to see all the extra energy and enthusiasm in me. They had not seen me this way in ages and thought probably I needed a psychiatrist. It’s difficult to express in words, the magic the yatra has had on us.

Just like the never ending conversations on board the Yatra, I can still keep writing; but would end with these lines from Udaan:

Kahani khatam hai ya shuruwaat hone ke hai
Subha nayi hai yeh ya phir raat hone ko hai

Aane wala waqt dega panaahe
Ya phir se milenge do-raahe
Khabar kya, kya pataa

Would the Yatra be a lifetime experience had I not met Ayush, Hetansh, Mansi and Vidita?;

Would the debates be so political had it not been with Ruben, Arjun, Aditya, Neel?;

Would I have so many memories if I had not been part of the BSY Gang (Shailendra, Akash, Pooja, Pooja & Pooja, Shrihari, Ajinkya, Amit, Darshil, Saloni, Sakshi)?;

Would I have been so enriched with the rural India if Zubin, Anchal, Pooja, Mukesh had not been around?;

Would the journey be complete had I not made friends like Richa, Archana, Harinder, Lakshmi, Lohit, Nandu?;

Would the sleepless nights have been so so awesome, if I did not have those insane talks and gossip conversations with Gaurav Nemade, Gaurav Gattani, Dipankar, Prachi, Amruta, Spriha?

Much has been said about the 12 cities, 8000 kms and 15 days, 15 role models. But i would say the 450 people on board make the Yatra what it is.

Missed many names but not forgotten.

All photos courtesy Mansi Shrivastava.

When an important chapter in your life comes to an end

When you set out on a journey, you generally get on board with the aim of embarking at the final destination. And then we hear people say that ‘the journey is always more important than the destination’. True that – but is it practically always possible? What if you actually want to reach the destination but circumstances force you to jump out mid way and switch lanes?

‘Agar tum sachche dil se kise cheezo ko chaahte ho toh puri qaynaat tumhe use milaane mein lag jaati hai’

Maybe not.

There are things you may not want to talk about. But certain eyebrows are always raised and your decisions always questioned. They may not confront you – but behind you they would always gossip.

I quit my first venture. The team gave birth to Theek Kar Do, we nurtured it, raised it only to be forced to leave it mid-way just when the journey had started. I abandoned my baby. I am not sure if I ever wanted to write about it – atleast not for public consumption.

The exit was questioned by many. TKD (as we fondly called it) was loved by the media and we did have some good media friends. So they wanted to cover the exit then. Frankly speaking, I wasn’t prepared to talk about it then – maybe not even now. But then when someone you respect and admire asks you to write about it – you just cannot deny it.

Before you read ahead, just to clarify this piece is not about the actual happenings which led to my exit but about how as an individual I went through the entire thing.

Things were bad in the venture time and again but what made it worse is the indifferent tuning I had with my co-founder. We were rarely on the same page but initially that worked well most of the times for us. But with time things started moving from bad to worse. Not that we did not try to sit down and talk it out and resolve things across the table but eventually that is just what we were doing most of the times and the business as such was suffering. Practically, it made sense to split the business – but emotionally none of us wanted to do that.

It was late August when I was almost convinced that it’s almost time for me to bid adieu to the venture. You do not want to abandon your kid but you cannot even watch it struggling in front of you just because its parents are having a tiff. A single parent would probably do a better job.

But still I decided to hang in there hoping against hope that the tide would change. This was the third time in the last few months that I had decided to move out – this time it was on a slightly serious note. Inside, I still had not come to terms with it that this was the only solution left if not the best.

This was something I could not build up courage to talk to anyone about. I was shuffling – almost every day. Life was swinging like a pendulum between practicality and my emotions. Apart from my really close two friends, nobody knew of my intention to exit.

And then we had one more of those arguments which was like a nail on the coffin. We split on a very bad note. My co-founder dropped in an email to split. I literally cried and was inconsolable for a while. This is not how I wished things to end. This was September end – the starts towards the end.

Quitting the venture is very similar to coming out of a healthy relationship. Both of you have put in a lot of efforts to be together, spent a lot of time with each other, made compromises but still did everything under the sun to make it work. But then destiny plays a different game. You have to split and carry a baggage full of memories. At one end you do not want to dump them and at the other end the baggage just happens to weigh you down in your personal life.

We still had to work out the formalities of the exit. Unfortunately, all these discussions happened over emails being exchanged. We could not stand each other; probably we did not want to face each other. Our colleagues were not aware of the back room happenings and unfortunately were caught in the cross-fire.

The entire month of October I did not go to office. Work was suffering but I had no option either. Life did come to a standstill. I – an educated middle-class Indian who is apparently only supposed to do a white-collared job, had quit the cushy corporate job to run his own business – is now sitting at home ‘unemployed’. I began hating a lot of things in life. My social media timeline was bombarded with sad posts. My friends and former colleagues thought it was because of heartbreak in a relationship. It was indeed heartbreak – just that the reason was something else which was still not publically known. I started being anti-social, underground, and aloof and all those devdas kind of terms which you may want to attach to me.

It is really really difficult to move out from something which you strongly believe in – something for which you have fought with half the world and now you have to surrender just when you were going to turn the tables and begun winning the battle.

Extracts from my resignation email:

“After a journey of several months where we built a company, a name, a brand from scratch, I have decided to move on in my professional life….

 

…I want to take this opportunity to thank each one of you for bringing in all the awesomeness at TKD. In my short stint at TKD I got to do a lot of things I had never thought of, met so many people and cherish the moments I spent working for building the TKD brand. It is amazing when people recognize and laud the efforts that we had all put in to make what TKD stands for – from being on TV to talking at events, with people loving your brand name and logo to customers appreciating the efforts we put in, with being covered by leading Indian newspapers and magazines to seeing your company adverts on buses and ricks – it has been an enriching journey. Unfortunately, I had to leave the dream mid way. Professionally, I am not sure where I stand today and what lies ahead for me but on a personal front, I think I am way richer than ever. Thanks for being with me in the journey. I am not sure if I will come close to experiencing even a part of this curve ever again. This year will remain etched in my memory for several years to come.

 

I am sure you all will make me proud someday by taking TKD to the heights we had envisioned.”

Staying at home 24/7 was a torture. Fortunately, my parents do not stay in Mumbai. That’s when I decided to make my annual visit to my parents.

Just before boarding the flight I made a status update.

Yes, I was running away from reality. I needed a break. Needed some time away from the hustle of Mumbai.

With my exit, even some of my colleagues called it quits. I felt bad about it but then things were not in my hand. They felt betrayed with my exit. My friends abused me. But they could not reach me immediately. Did I let the people around me down? Just this thought made me panic and sadness creeped in once again.

My parents stay abroad and keep insisting I should shift back to the city. But this time I just hoped that was not going to be a point of conversation. But, I was wrong. That was the only point of conversation. They never enquired on why I had to leave Theek Kar Do but just kept insisting on me taking up a proper job. I felt all the more irritated and was succumbing to my emotions on a daily basis. I felt jailed for those two long weeks. I had gone thinking I would be able to get rid of the clutter from my mind but the trip ended up chewing my brain all the more. I needed some free air.

I came back to Mumbai and starting exploring and working with another organization to keep myself busy. But emotionally I was draining everyday. And your only companions are those sad bollywood songs. Trust me it cannot get worse than this.

But it did get. I had a fight with my best friend. He was irritated with work, me with life. That was like the lowest point post quitting the venture. The entire support system had come crashing down. I felt like running away to an unknown territory where nobody knew me and start life from scratch. I kept social media at bay to the extent that I deactivated whatsapp as well.

The usual goofy, fun loving, chilled out Hardik was sulking all over. Once I could fake my smile but now the sadness was all over me. Whatever the situation had been in all these 24 years of my life, my social life, my food and sleep was never affected. Random people would come and ask me after seeing my drowsy facial expressions.

Now a three-edged sword was hanging on top of me – my venture which I exited, parents who did not understand what I wanted from life and a friend whom I could not express my emotions to.

I started staying awake all night for several nights at a stretch thinking what the hell I am going to do now. The question lingered for a very long time. And things do change but at its own time. But I switched the gear and decided to take control of my life all over again. And that’s the reason that after almost 6 months I am in a position to talk about it without being adversely affected by it.

To a huge extent I am what I am because of TKD – it was my identity which I had lost with the exit. And finding yourself in this city of 12 million individuals is no mean feat.

I don’t think I regret quitting it, but I feel sad many a times and cry in the dark – could I have done something different to stay along and watch it grow and be independent?

How I pulled myself out of it, what I learnt from the entire episode and where am I today probably makes for another post – some other day. Writing this post has taken me on the ride once again – need to sit down and introspect all over again – but this time I know I am not going to break down.

Originally posted on Rodinhoods.

Thank you social media and messaging platforms

It has been almost 7 years that I graduated out of school – my alma mater. After spending close to 14 years in the same school, most of us parted ways for a different future – changed streams, different colleges, different countries. That was 2007.

And we lost touch. We only had some class photographs as memories.

And a few years back FB happened. But it took some time as some of my school mates had switched schools mid way and we remembered nothing more than each others name. Email was also not common those days. The only thing I recollect was MSN messenger which also faded down the memory lane.

As recent as 2013-14 I suddenly got in touch with some of my closest childhood buddies and school friends who parted ways more than a decade ago. FB has indeed become a mini reunion platform. And from there it continued to whatsapp –  and it feels like we had known each other all this while.

school friends

And surprisingly all those school days stupidity come alive in front of your eyes. And if you forget something, these losers are there to remind you :P. From the fights to the exams to the recess breaks to hogging on to others tiffins to the sports days and the cultural days to bird watching to the class monitor and the birthday parties.

Though we all have made several friends over the years the awesome moment of getting in touch with your childhood bud is just beyond any explanation. The warmth of closeness still remains not withstanding any bad days you had back then. You still have that unbiased unselfish love towards each other. You fought in the morning but a packet of chips was enough to forget that at the end of the day.

This makes me realise that the world has indeed become more connected and a smaller place(barring MH370) and obviously it is round. You’ll bump into your old flame also some day 😉

What makes me proud is that almost each one of them are making waves in their field be it aviation or commerce or science or sports or cultural activities. Most of them have followed their heart and broken past traditional career options and carved out a different life path for themselves.

Life has changed. We have all grown older (and wiser) but dil toh bachcha hai ji 🙂

A stroll round the corner.

It was one of those weekdays when I was done with work and lazing around at home when my Mom began her rant once again from getting married to leave Mumbai to clean up the mess at home.

I got so frustrated and irritated with the same routine conversations that I decided to go for a stroll round the corner. It had actually been a while that I had spent some quality time in my area exploring what my neighborhood had to offer.

I walked a while on the roads where people were busy with their daily routine – shopping for veggies and hogging on the roadside food.

Then came a street where there were not many people but it did lead some where. I walked on.

 

 

While passing through the buzzing streets I reached a small garden – not maintained at all but there were a lot of people around. Small children on the swings and the merry go rounds with their parents cheering for them, the teenagers playing football, couples on the benches and the oldies taking a stroll (yes – it was exactly that way).

 

 

What immediately flashed in my mind are two simple things which Mumbai is known for:

1) Mumbai has no open spaces

2) Mumbai does not stop

But this short trip round the corner changed the view which I had of Mumbai.

1) Mumbai does have open spaces. Far and few but in the town but plenty in the suburbs I know of (popularly known as nana-nani parks or udyaan).

2) But more importantly, it is not true that Mumbai is buzzing with work and nightlife round the clock. A vast majority of the people do not fall within this category. They take out time for their daily dose of self time and family time. They leave office or shut shop at regular hours and spend time in the vicinity. A lot of small groups were there chit chatting and enjoying themselves. In the rat race that Mumbai is popular for, many of them have opted out for self good. It is not about burning the mid night oil for many – it is about enjoying life.

Just to rephrase a cliche – Do you live to earn or earn to live?

Basically Mumbai does find time to ditch the gadget and breathe some fresh air.

What this reminded me of also was my childhood days when we used to switch between playing football and cricket on weekends. Have not played a sport in 7 years and for a moment I thought I should join them. But then today I wanted to just go into a deep thinking mode while enjoying the swings.

 

(Kindly ignore the poor photo quality – its a VGA cam on my phone)