Twenty

On the 6th of April, 2006 I will be turning twenty. Twenty years of coming out of the womb, each day of those twenty years being a new one, different challenges every day. I managed to get out successfully out of the womb, but each day, as far as I can recollect, has been a constant challenge for get out of myself. To leave the shell behind and move on, to go out and find bigger, better and greater things for myself and the people close to me. I have been, and will always crave for change.

I have never had a ‘fun’ birthday, it’s always been boring, and the worst things happen on that day. It is for that reason that I worry so much every time its time to get one year older. When I was small, I couldn’t have those birthday parties that all my other friends used to have, when I was middle aged, I had birthday parties, but they always ended up bad, arguments with friends silly fighting and grudges that others hold against me to this day, the last few years I’ve not even bothered doing anything for my birthday for the sole reason that no body remembers it anyway, no one wishes me, so I’ve got nothing to do that day. I just carry on like a normal day. No one buy immediate family remembers by birthday. It doesn’t mean that much to me, but looking at the importance that other people give their own birthdays, I sometimes feel left out.

Twenty, I keep thinking to myself, is a pretty dreadful age to be. I’ve asked around, and everyone seems to have twenty as the worst year in their lives. A confusing, lonely, decision making year, and a tough one at that. It just doesn’t sound fun being twenty. I wouldn’t mind twenty one, or nineteen, but twenty? At twenty, it feels like I won’t be that innocent boy anymore, but that more responsible man, though I will not be looked upon like a full grown adult either. It’s the sort off age where everyone looks at you and either thinks you’re too old or too young. The innocence and responsibility want to live together, but they just are not allowed too.

I want to know myself better, so I can ride another year through in the best possible way and maybe look back and tell myself ‘Hay, I had a winner there!’ . That means more soul searching , experimenting, answerability, questioning my self and a lot more of those activities that really stress the mind out. I came across the Nohari and Johari windows, and got my own windows. I want people to fill them out for me, and help me understand more about myself, things I don’t yet know but some off you have figured out through the years I know you, or even if its just a few months or days. I’ve done a lot of other activity like this, talking with friends, asking them to tell me my faults and advantages and stuff like that. Hopefully, I will get to know myself better and grow more in confidence and carry on with all those dreams of mine, ready to face the world, always ready for a new challenge…





We are born charming, fresh and spontaneous and must be civilized before we are fit to participate in society.

Skepticism

The last one week has been hard, but just kept me busy. I have had a lot of catching up to do, with work, family, friends and the like. All things close to my heart. I’ve just been spending time doing things that are important, that I really haven’t had the time to put down things in writing, and when I finally did have the time at the end of the day, I was just too tiered to do anything at all.

I’ve just been drifting along with work; it gets so complex at times I wonder what’s the point. But I know its all for the good, my efforts will pay off, and I’m really in no hurry for them to pay off right now. It’s got to the point where I’m at the receiving end all along, from suppliers, from clients, from the board and the management. I’m answerable to everyone, crucial to keeping everyone together. Sometimes it seems like a lot of responsibility, but I want to face it and be strong. Sometimes I miss grandpa for all that support I used to get from him. The way its going I’m multi tasking, accounting, technical , commercial, sales, purchases , administration, banking. I’ve got it all on my shoulders, but ninety eight percent of the time I’m loving it! I guess I just have to work on the other two percent of the time, could do with a lot off support from friends and family, but everyone seems to be busy doing their own thing.

My tea guy left! Martin, if I even get my hands on him I’m not going to spare him! He took his pay, and never turned up after that, been looking for a new tea boy, but cant find a good capable one. My driver, Vijayan, he has been around for nine years now. I remember him driving me to school, looking out for me every time something happened. He was there for the family all along, the good times and the bad. Stood by our every decision, always took thing at its stride and was a great emotional support. He came up to me on Friday and asked for permission to start his own business, he’s buying a car and driving it for a big MNC, and he’s going to make ten times what I pay him. He actually had the courtesy of asking for permission, and I’m pretty sure if I said no, he would have stayed. But I couldn’t, I want him to be happy. I told him that if he was going to do better for himself and his son Edwin, to go ahead with it but to always remember that he’s welcome back here anytime. I will miss him, I don’t know what I’m doing to do without him everyday, so used to him driving me to work and giving me reminders on what I need to do that day. That’s one man I respect, and will continue to, don’t know if I will ever find such a good driver again.

I spent a lot of time the past week with family, mum and sisters mainly. Normally, I don’t get to see either as their out of the house before I’m awake and in bed when I’m back home. But it’s nice, just to see them around, laugh over a few things, share a meal together. Small things, but I haven’t had it for so long that I really enjoyed it. I also spoke with a cousin of mine; she’s about six years older to me, but great lass that one is! She’s a lot like me, someone who can think like me and talk to me on just about anything under the moon. I’ve always looked up to her, never told her that though. Maybe some day I will, but will that male ego let me? I’m not close to most of my cousins bar a couple, maybe three, but the distance keeps us from getting closer, though if given a chance I would give it my all to know them better. Someday I hope I will be able too.

I’ve been looking out for friends as well, it’s sad when someone goes back down the drug path after getting out successfully. He had so much at stake, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered. I tried helping him, taking him out for a drink and stuff, or just a drive whenever he called, but he started misusing that trust his folks had in me, using my name to go out and get smacked all over again. I had to drive him home, lie to his folks about what happened etc, its come to the point where I cant be bothered trying again. My other mates are doing fine though, got there life’s back on track and doing well for themselves, some studying hard, others making movies. We got in together; got out different times; just wish everyone would get out. It doesn’t get you anywhere. The new ones I’ve been speaking to have been rather quite the last few days, all of them busy with their exams, final year of college and the like. No replies to even things like texts, they probably are really busy and I’m happy that a few people are doing constructive things at least. I still need a lot of friends, a lot of people to talk to; hopefully I will keep finding more. If you’re wondering what happened with that girl, well, I got told not to push it, so I’m just taking it slow and going with the flow. Let’s see how things shape out. My best mate’s been going through a lot of nonsense from the boyfriend cause of me and other things from her past. I just can’t take someone hurting her, he thinks what she does is cheap, so what exactly is he doing with a cheap girl then? He can’t seem to get over her past and keeps troubling her about it, the way its going I see her leaving him, she’s not the type who is stick around when the trouble seems to much for her, she already has a load off stuff happening in her life that is hard for her to take, and I only hope he treats her better and starts understanding her. I had this dream that he asks her to smash a crystal teddy that I sent her; it sits on her bedside, looking down at her. And he forces her to smash it, and she does. Horrible dream, just hope this one doesn’t come true. My other mate Sara is helping me loads just listening to me woffle away everyday to her on msn, and gives me great ideas that so far have worked. Thanks a ton Miss Lodge! And thank you all those others who give me an outlet on here, on msn and on the phone and those few that I get to meet in person every so often.

I slept loads during the weekend, infact the whole of Sunday I slept, except for a short while when I woke up and went for a haircut, massage and the like. Had a hot shower, some great music for the soul and just slept, slept like a baby for hour together. But I feel hung-over cause of all that sleep, or is it because I’m not looking after myself well? I don’t know, I need to cut down on that caffeine and nicotine, and I’m doing that slowly. Just where is all this going? Let’s see how it goes...

Time is a cruel thief to rob us of our former selves. We lose as much to life as we do to death.

Insomnia

It’s early Sunday morning, or should I call it late Saturday night? That’s the first question that troubles me. Are my days changing? Why are there a sunset and a sunrise? Shouldn’t I be rising and setting just like the sun? Why do I set when the sun rises? Why am I so different? Can I not just be like everyone else? Why can’t I close my eyes and just go to sleep whenever my body needs it? Am I just afraid that I may never get up?

It’s always past three in the morning when I go to bed, never earlier, but it’s usually close to six by the time I’m actually sleeping. I work different time zones and with about sixty different countries, so I need to be up nearly round the clock. I love the way I function this way, apologizing to the Americans for my accent and asking them to slow down to help me understand them better, but hearing the same thing from people in Russia and other parts of eastern Europe. The Chinese telling me to come on msn so they can understand what I’m trying to put across to them, getting asked if I’m sure I’m Indian, and a lot of other similar stuff. It’s thrilling to be able to communicate with so many different people from different cultures, people with different languages, people of different ideologies and beliefs.

But I often wonder if I will regret missing all these hours of sleep. Shouldn’t I be getting just as much sleep as everyone else? Does sleeping for around three hours a day make me different? If it’s different, is it good or bad? But then I tell myself, whatever it is, I need to do what I do. That to me is more important than the luxury called sleep. But there are also many times that I really don’t have much work, but I just sit around talking to friend or relaxing with music. Do I need to feel bad for not using that time to sleep? I have been told its dysthymic disorder, but there is really nothing to prove it really is.

I also have a lot of dreams in those few hours I sleep, I dream everyday, and I vividly remember what I dreamed about the previous night. The one last night for example was horrid, I was just sitting smoking a cigarette, and instead of the paper and tobacco burning and turning to ash, my body started to turn to ash, and I kept smoking until I was made of only ash and then my entire body just crumbled down into a heap of ash with the bud of the cigarette right at the top. Then I woke up. The night before that, I was in Africa with that girl, a beautiful dream to be honest. It made me look forward to that day and things did go well for me. I also wake up every morning and feel hangover, and while I’m sitting on my bed smoking my first cigarette of the day, still drowsy , things of the past just flash across , and make me thing about what are the wrong decision that I’ve taken, and the good ones as well. People that know me closely know that I call it the morning show, that’s about the only entertainment I get all day.

But sometimes I get really exhausted with the lack of sleep and think that I really I need to get some sleep. I’m really tiered with over two months of hectic work. I’m planning to take a week of to just sleep sometime soon, but will I be able to sleep without those dreams?

If you can't sleep, then get up and do something instead of lying there and worrying. It's the worry that gets you, not the loss of sleep.

Aspiration

I often get asked what I expect from my life, what are my dreams, what are my ambitions. I often think about it as well, and there’s so much that I want to do. Apart from what I dream, and what I want done, there are many expectations of me as well. I dream, dream of times to come, dream of things to do, I plan them perfectly, its always only a matter of being a few million short or a government approval. I am not a millionaire, I don’t have the money, but I have learnt in my life, from my dad and my grandpa that you don’t need money to make money. Like I’ve said in a post before, all your need to get somewhere in life is smartness, a heart and courage. I would possible add to that dedication, which is another important requirement if you really need to do something big.

There are a lot of things that I want to do, and if given the first chance I will pounce on it. I will also try my best to keep up to the expectations of people that I really care for, people that mean something to me. I have never been open about my ambitions and my goals to anyone, as people would normally think I’m crazy, or just talking like an immature kid. People laugh at me, most of you reading this probably will as well, but I’ve just got to say this and scream to the world, get my voice out there, put those ideas and dreams down in writing. Time to put it to the test and get ready for the resonance of laughter all around me.

I would firstly like to retire from active business at thirty. It sounds like quite a young age to retire, but it’s a decade away as far as I’m concerned. And with the amount of hours that I’m putting in, its worth at least twenty seven years of a ten hour a day, five days a week job, with the added advantage of it not being a job, but a business, multiple business’s even. What would like to do after thirty? A great wife, couple of amazing kids , a nice home to live in , an office that I could spend my day at. Not the regular schedule, but just somewhere I could sit and talk to people and look after my investments. I want to have sufficient investments in real estate that will fend for my family and their expenses with adequate cover for inflation over century. I also aim to have massive investments in equity, either directly or through the secondary route. It is my dream to be on the board of one of India’s top ten publicly traded companies. After thirty, I want to be a venture capitalist, investing in ideas and concepts, most of which should payoff in the long run. These are my current ambitions and plans, and for this along I would need an amount of close to twenty million dollars, ninety crore Indian rupees.

Apart from all these basics, I also want to start the first private rail road in India. I already have it planned in my head; the first train will head from Bangalore to Chennai, just like my life started. It may not be possible at the moment because of current government regulations, but there is always hope, when there is a chance, I’m going to capitalize on it.

I also want to own a football team, not one in Europe, but one here in India. I love the sport, it just fascinates me, but more than the game, it’s the thrill of managing a team that gives me the high, it isn’t going to be much to buy a team, but will cost a great deal to make the team great, and an even bigger amount to keep them great.

I dream of great things for myself and the people around me. I have never pictured myself doing anything big or of importance without a few people helping me with it, or just standing there by my side. There’s always got to be someone around me, that grows with me , someone that accompanies me through the up’s and downs, but I have no one like that at the moment, hopefully soon I will.

As for expectations, I’ve got quite a few that have been thrust on me, but received with pleasure. To be a good son, a good student, a great brother, a respectful grandson, an just boss, loving cousin, uncle, nephew and quite a few more. I’m expected to take the family and everything around it to new levels with everything I do. But I’m up for it; I’m ready for the challenge. But the thing I want is for me to be a good friend, and have a few good ones around me during both times good and bad.


You see things; and you say, 'Why?' But I dream things that never were; and I say, "Why not?"

Love ?

I’ve got mixed feelings for someone lately; I don’t know what it really is. I barely know her, and I’m not the type of person who would start something of without knowing the other person, but then again, I’m very curious to know this person more. I keep trying to blow off that misty cloud around her, but she makes it so hard for me. I don’t know if its love, I don’t think it is. But it’s something strange; I’ve never felt this way before, the desire to know someone so deeply, all the deep dark and dirty secrets, what’s happening around her. I’m just very curious. But why? Why her? I sit and think about this so often, I’ve been out of touch with people for so long, why this sudden urge to be with someone when in reality, I’ve only got busier. I don’t have the time to actually do things a woman will expect, I will not even be sure if I will be available two hours hence, let alone plan two months ahead. It’s pretty weird, but it’s true. All I want is to get to know her better, either a better friend, or a perfect partner. But am I being honest with myself?

Is this love I feel?
Can it be true or just a dream?
Why make me feel so supreme?
Isn’t this just so surreal?
Will with me she be hand in glove?
Will my offer make her gleam?
Or just stare in disgust and scream?
Is this truly love?

No! I tell myself
Its couldn’t possibly be true
There’s no one that possibly likes me for me
It would be like she was punishing herself
And the true feelings then subdue
Even I can bear me only to a certain degree.

There is no remedy for love but to love more.

Money

Earlier today, someone asked me why I had started working so fast. Why I sacrificed my youth and instead of enjoying myself like other people my age, why did I want to struggle for survival. Considering the fact that there was no pressure whatsoever on me to actually start working, let alone start my own company and then take up responsibility for quite a few others. Why work when my friends were partying? The tone, the person and the situation at that moment made me sit back and think why I really do what I do. Why was I sitting in my office at one in the morning working when I could have been in some club drinking and dancing? Is it the love of money? I needed to answer these questions for myself, decided to do it here.

I don’t consider this as a sacrifice at all. At the moment I decided to start a business at do something with myself, I wasn’t very happy with my youth per se. I was getting myself into trouble very often, the vices, wasting time. I was never short of money then, I made enough everyday trading in equity. So it defiantly wasn’t money. Do I enjoy what I do? Yes, defiantly! I never dreamt that I could keep myself this occupied, that I could do something constructive. I never imagined that I could connect people from different parts of the world, mother and son, father and daughter, husband and wife, brothers, sisters, friends, carry messages of joy, voices that spread the cheer, some spread gloom. It’s a happy feeling. Nothing like it.

I was not born rich, nor have I been brought up with a golden spoon. I remember being dropped to school on a cycle, struggling for uniform money, couldn’t afford money for school picnics. I remember the bad days, there’s this one thing that comes to mind when I think about money. My first taste of money, and dirty interest.

I was about six or seven, and my dad used to run this small shoe store here in Chennai. We were always skint, and my dad used to borrow one hundred rupees from a man who owned the next shop, about two dollars, fill gas in his bike, buy groceries for the house and give my mum some cash to spend for the house. Some weekends I would go to the shop with my dad and in the evening dad would go to that man to borrow hundred bucks. He would ask dad to meet in at a particular time at a neighborhood restaurant. I would go with dad, and that man would be sitting there. He would order a tea, an omelet and ask dad if he wanted anything, dad would refuse. He would ask me if I wanted anything, I would refuse at first, but then he would say that I had to have something so I would ask for a Pepsi or a fresh lime juice. I would see a look of disapproval on dad’s face, but I would never understand why. When the snacks were done, that man would give dad the hundred bucks he wanted, and walk away leaving dad to pay the bill of about fifteen rupees. The next morning, even before dad opened the doors of the shop that man would be standing there waiting for his hundred back. That was my first taste of money and dirty interest. I still cry at the fact that I drank those Pepsi’s.

Why do I work? Cause I enjoy what I do. I enjoy management, I treasure that sweat and effort me and my team put into the company everyday, I value all those little things I’ve learnt while I was here, I value the heritage, I value the economy. No, I don’t make money. I never carry money; I don’t see a need for it. I’m always empty handed, everything I need it paid for. I just love it, no conditions attached, and it certainly isn’t for the money. The money is just there as a means of adding and subtracting, but in the end; it’s the pleasure I get out of it that matters to me, and my future.




Who is Rich? He that is content. Who is that? Nobody

Compassionate Nicotine

It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues. - Abraham Lincoln


Ever since I wrote the last post, I’ve been thinking about my only remaining vice, smoking. I had them all, alcohol, drugs, gambling, women. But got rid of them one fine morning, woke up to realize that I couldn’t find my lighter to light up. That’s when I realized how dependent I was on petty things. I had to lock myself in the room for a week, avoided my mates, and turned my mobile off, out of touch with the rest of my family. Just stepped out when the rest of the house was sleeping to grab some juice from the kitchen. One week of struggle and hardship, I wondered why I was doing it, but I realized that I was going to turn eighteen in a few months and I needed to do something constructive with my life, make a name for myself, run the rat race and win. No one remembers the second place. I gave it all up, and started to take responsibility on my shoulders, but my first love never left me, smoking. I’ve flirted with the other vices every so often, but like they say, you can never let go of your first true love.

I don’t smoke for style, I know it isn’t fashion. I never started to be cool. What started it is this one New Year party I went to along with my cousin and his friends. It was the dawn of the year 1999, and half the world was saying there would be no earth left when the date turns to 2000 the next time round. I was young and foolish and believed their tale. But I still didn’t pick up a cigarette even though I was offered it umpteen number of times by my cousin. I got back home at about 2am, and my dad was awake. Played a game of chess with him and he retired for the night, leaving me thinking about how he beat me one more time. Being young, I had this weird concept in my head, which is true, that it was the smoking that made the head work better and made him win. Everyone who smoked was successful in my eyes, My Grandpa, dad, my uncles, my cousins. Everyone!

It was time to get smart. I hardly slept that night, and first thing in the morning I went up to my dads room to get a cigarette. I just had to try it out, what made it so special? What did it actually feel like? How did it feel after a cigarette?

I walked in, went to the bedside where dad normally keeps his pack of cigarettes. The intention was to get one cigarette and try it out, but I was nervous and dropped something. I immediately felt the fear of getting caught, and stuffed the entire cigarette packed in my pocket. My dad woke up and looked at me confused wondering what I was doing inside his bedroom. I told him that I had come to remind him about some special show on the television about cricket. He rubbed his eyes and asked me to tell mum to get him a cup of tea. I nodded and rushed out of their as soon as I could.

Once downstairs and in the comfort of my own room, I took out a cigarette from the packet and lit it, I had only taken one drag on that first cigarette when my dad walked into my room. I choked, smoke coming out of my nose and mouth and my father right in front of me! Caught with the very first cigarette! Embarrassed, I didn’t know what to do, so I just put it off and went into the loo.

My dad never questioned me about that incident. He hasn’t to date. I have been in a lot of trouble at school for smoking in class and other stuff as well; very often I would take the blame if class was smelling of cigarettes. It got me into trouble with family, everyone looked at me like a criminal, hiding and smoking. That’s when I decided that I wouldn’t hide anymore, at the moment, I am sat in my room, my grandma, my mum, dad, some guests over . And I’m smoking with the door wide open; I leave the ashtrays for the maid to clean up in the morning. No one tells me not to smoke, well, no one had until grandpa did. And that shook me up, but is it so easy to give your first love up?

Time to give up? 150,000 sticks roughly. I got told each stick takes 8 minutes away from your life. 833 days gone? It’s given me seven years of companionship. My first love, been with me during the good times and the bad. Eight minutes is too much of a price to pay for such a great friendship? For all the love?


You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.


Time to say goodbye? Will it be easy? Will it shake me up? Will I be able to face every new day without you? I don’t know, wish I did…


Search others for their virtues, thyself for thy vices. - Benjamin Franklin

Excruciation

Dada, Its what I used to call my paternal grandfather. A man with vision, an Inspiring person, someone to look up to. There is something that is making me think about him for almost all of today. I wonder what it is. There are a lot of things that only I and grandpa shared all along, and I think I’m going to share those things with the world today. I lost grandpa on the 13th of January 2006.

Dada was born somewhere around 1939, no one knows for sure, they didn’t note it down sadly. All they knew was he was born a few months before a cousin of his who was born sometime in July 1939. He didn’t study much, Eighth grade is all he did, met grandma, fell in love, and got married at eighteen. There started his rollercoaster ride in this big wild world that he tamed. Grandpa inherited a big fortune at the age of about twenty six, and so did his seven brothers and two sisters when they lost their father. But grandpa was self made by then, ran a successful business of exporting shrimps and other seafood.

The story I’m now narrating is one very close to my heart, its one of my first recollection of grandpa in a business role model sense. This happened during the course of him running the seafood export unit. I was talking to him about competition, and how to handle the pressure of competition. Grandpa was traveling when this happened; a manager who was working with him had directly got a large order for shrimps from a large importer. Greed, which is the let down on all of mankind, took over this manager. He approached a loan shark and borrowed heavily to buy shrimps and export to this client that he had. The cost of a kilogram of shrimps was eight rupees; the buyer was paying about 15 rupees. The man would have made a fortune, and it was exactly what he was expecting. When grandpa returned to town he found things to be haywire, he was also burdened with a fresh contract to supply shrimps to another buyer. Since the manager has resigned, grandpa went out himself to buy the shrimps, but realized that there wasn’t any available in the market because the manager had bought it all up, and even that at inflated prices. He had paid up to thirteen rupees a kilogram for the shrimps, which hardly left a decent margin to trade in the shrimps. Grandpa would have bought it even at thirteen or even at thirty just to keep his word, but it was all sold out, and pre booked for another week. Grandpa’s contract would expire within a week. He then sat and thought what to do while he was very upset with the manager on betraying his trust like that. He then got an idea, and asked him staff to go and buy all the ice around a hundred kilometer radius from Cochin, which they did. At the end of the day, the manager had all the shrimps, but no ice to stock, pack and ship it. He came back to grandpa and returned it at half the price. I was shocked to hear this; grandpa looked at my face sternly and said ‘This is what we do to dirty competition’

Everyone called him Baba out of affection. Grandpa was flamboyant, and also extravagant. I wouldn’t count that against him, it made him what he was. But it did get him into trouble with the tax authorities, and that crippled his business making him go bankrupt in 1972. Those were bad times I’ve been told, kids to educate, a family to feed. Life really isn’t a bed of roses. And I’ve been there to, experienced and felt the bad times, but that’s another story for another time.

From 1972 until 1992, the family struggled, but only financially, the bonds were strong. He continued keeping up with family and friends. He moved to Chennai, then Madras, in 1977. Somewhere between that, I was born.6th of April 1986, and I was reminded how I was born by grandpa many times. ‘When you were born, there were twenty people around you smiling, when you die, there should be two million people around the world crying. Do something that big, no point in living life small’. And every time he said that, he would make me cry. Make me cry at the expectations he had from me, but he always showed me that he thought I was capable. I could never cry, or even have wet eyes in front of him; it would thoroughly upset him and make him go wild.

He brought me up along with my parents, by the time I knew how much a boy needed a father’s attention and love, my dad was very busy with work. I don’t blame he, his is just as busy even today, though I get to spend a lot of time with him at the workplace. But grandpa never let me feel what I was missing. He dropped me to school , picked me up everyday, brought me chicken tikka everyday when he was back from the office, spent time with me, took me out on the weekends, basically made sure I didn’t miss anything as a child. I was pampered, but at the same time thought what was right and wrong, survival tips in this dirty world and a lot more that I still cherish to this day.

But then came the time that he wanted to move back to him city of birth, after spending a year and a half at Bangalore developing the family’s business there, the place he had once ‘ruled’ over, Cochin. The year was 1997, I had just turned eleven. I knew I would miss him more than anything else, and it turned out to be true. But like all men, I don’t show affection in person, this is the first time I am actually expressing this affection that I had secretly shared with him.


In 1999, he broke both his legs while dancing on stage during my cousin’s wedding. This was a massive turning point in his life, he was a man that didn’t depend on anyone for anything, and at sixty, no one was sure if his legs would get alright, he was bed ridden in Chennai for more than a year. Slowly undergoing surgery, physiotherapy etc, but he was strong willed and made it. One year and a few days later, he was on the train back to Cochin, his home at the time. That one year or so that he was here, I learnt a lot from him. I was a more mature boy by then, and my dad was living in Paris at the time, so there were a lot of responsibilities, small ones, but still. I was thought how to handle people, guests, bills and a lot of other important stuff that grandpa thought a ‘young dynamic boy’ needed to know. I appreciate the efforts he took to teach me all that while lying there bedridden. That was the first time I saw him cry, crying with self pity. It hurts me to this day that I didn’t step up and just go give him a hug then.

When grandpa was back in Cochin, he redeveloped the group’s real estate business there, took part in a lot of social service, served on many of their boards and even founded a social service group called MANS which aimed at bringing solidarity in the community. It was his attempt at creating something like the YMCA. His last few years were spent on social causes and that one of visit to the office.

He visited Chennai on the 21st of May 2005, he wasn’t looking to good and mum insisted that he goes for a check up; he was detected with esophageal cancer. Here is an extract of the blog entry, from the blog that I was writing at that point of time, that I did that particular day,

Got up at 9 am, my grandpa called me over to his room and told me he had Cancer....Spoke to him, had breakfast with him. He kept saying ‘stop smoking look what it done to me.’ Ironically, I have been trying to cut down from a couple of days back. Loosing count so I though I’ll put it on my blog everyday. I’ve been hitting 60 fags a day last week, so need to cut down.Not too happy, grandpa gone to his home town, wanted to spend time there. I miss him. I will miss him; doc says he’s got anything from a week to 2 months left... He looked me in the eye and told me. I must have cried for the most of yesterday, just kept smiling when he was in front. Well had to, I didn’t see a tear in his eye. He was happy; he thinks his time has come. I’m proud of him and everything I’ve learned from him. He set a high standard and made me get to it, not even close but still…


Everyday seemed like ages, he moved from Chennai back to Cochin, then back to Chennai and then to Bangalore. He covered everyplace that he had friends or family in, meeting everyone, letting them catch those last glimpses of him. And people came, people came in hordes. He had so many friends, and kept in touch with the entire family. People I don’t know by name, he knows who they are, what they do, what they like to eat, basically just about everything.

He kept getting weaker and weaker as the cancer ate him up from the inside. He was very conscious about his appearance. He would never let anyone see him the way he was now, but he had no go. I went to Cochin on the 10th of January to spend sometime with him, while I was there, we spoke a bit, and he told me what exactly he expects of me as the family’s only male heir. One incident that I can never forget was on the morning of the 11th; I was sitting with him and massaging his legs, when someone rang the door bell. He immediately asked me to go and close the room door and then pointed out for me to bolt it. I did, and was called back next to him. He then asked me to fetch his razor and some shaving cream as he refused to see anyone the way he was looking at the moment. I hesitated; this was a man who at the time couldn’t even stand up on his feet strong without support. But I had to listen, his voice was that commanding. I helped him shave, but messed up with holding the mirror right for him. He took out all his frustration on me for that, but I am proud he picked me to take it out on. After he was done shaving, he asked me to sit down, put his arm around my shoulders and apologized. When I told him that there was absolutely no need for an apology, he smile and asked me to go and take his entire collection of watches from his home. Which I did, those watches have been my fantasy for years now. Then I got asked to go open the door and let the guest’s in. Even a day before he passed, he was bothered about his appearance. I had to leave on the evening of the 12th back to Chennai as there was a lot of work pending. I was reluctant, but I had no option and grandpa kept telling me to go. I reached Chennai on the morning of the 13th, headed straight to the office, finished up work and got back home by ten. At Eleven I got a call from my dad who was also in Cochin at the time, that grandpa had passed. I was in shock, though I should have been prepared for it. Home alone with the rest of my family in Cochin with grandpa. What did I have to do to get there? Ten minutes later, another call from dad asking me if I had left and if I hadn’t to get there as quick as possible as the funeral was at five in the evening the next day, sixteen hours. I tried the airlines, all full, no trains, and no cabs. I can drive, but I had never driven long distance before, and I didn’t even have a driving license. But I had no go, this was what grandpa was famous for, making people do things they never thought they would ever do. I drove, fifteen hours straight to reach there on time. And I did, staring mind , body and soul, but I just had to have that last glimpse of that man I loved.

After two massive highway traffic jam’s a communist procession, five breaks for tea and a ten minute powernap I reached there at fifteen minutes to five. The street was full of people and vehicles, I drove amongst the familiar faces staring at me , while the strain of the journey was kicking in. I moved along and parked the car in the middle of the street while someone offered to park it for me. Bless Him. I walked into the driveway of the house, while the crowd parted to give me way. I saw my dad first, weeping. I have never seen him cry before. Met my aunts, Still speechless, then there was mum, that’s when the tears burst out and my vocal cords were reactivated. ‘Where is Dadi?’ is asked while looking around for my grandma amongst the crowd. Saw here sitting there, not an emotion on her face. Walked up to her and hugged her, it seemed to have lasted for ever. Slowly walked over to the freezer box, saw my proud old man lying down there, motionless. I could feel the stares from all the people around me, so many of them; I barely knew five percent of the people present there. I stood and stared at my grandpa’s face. Would this be the last time I saw him? Why, I questioned myself. Then came the burst of tears, uncontrollable emotions. This was it, the end. I had to accept it then and there, but it was hard. Sat staring at him all the way to the cemetery, and kept looking down the grave while the ritual’s were taking place. Clutched a fist full of sand and put it over his body, we all need to die someday I thought. But I didn’t move, just stood there speechless and crying. Stood for over an hour. Then came the night , dinner with family and friends , stories about the good times…

This is what my Daddy told me
I wished he would hold me
A little more than he did
But he told me my culture
And how to live positive
I never wanna shame
The blood in my veins and bring pain
To my sweet grandfathers face in his resting place
I make haste to learn and not waste everything my forefathers earned in tears
For my culture


I had him tell me, “I want the world to remember me as your Grandfather “

I want it the other way round...

Emotional Arousal

Lately, I have been at the edge. Everything I did, heard, saw or said, I would be really passionate about it. Tears in my eyes for silly little things, a bright smile for those small wonderful incidents. My emotions are peaking, be it anger, love, compassion, worry or any other thing you can think about.

Why should I get upset if my tea isn’t boiled right? Why should I get angry if it isn’t served on time? Why should I get happy when I am able to satisfy just one percent of my client’s requirements? Why is there a constant fear of loosing a friend, every time I talk to one? Why do I get annoyed when things don’t go my way? Why does every little thing perturb me? Why these extreme reactions for simple actions? Why so many questions?

I think I have been shaken up, firstly by the budget for the next financial year. Yes, it looks a rosy picture generally, but I don’t think it’s good for me. I will be covering the entire budget with an unbiased perspective sometime in the next few days. I really missed watching the whole thing live on the television because of work, but I know how to watch the whole thing all over again, why do we have something like the internet after all!

Work is very stressful, you do everything, but nothing pays off. It’s like sitting on a million bucks literally, but the damn currency is glued to the floor. What good I currency that is glued to the floor? Get into the office at ten everyday and bring a big mood along with my briefcase, and the first one to say good morning gets a good piece of my mind. Had a go at one of the guys because his shoe was not polished, and nearly fired a senior manager! I need to keep my cool and stay in control; these erratic responses will not help me or the company in the long run. Sometimes I think I’m taking to much upon myself at nineteen? Banks, Fellow directors, investors, staff, clients, distributors, dealers, franchises, suppliers , bulk buyers , plumbers , carpenters , brokers , across villages, towns, city’s, states, countries, language barrier’s. And at the moment, I’m so emotional; it’s either good or bad. Nothing in-between, where is the gray? And this is making me smoke a load more than what I normally do as well, today alone I have hit sixty cigarettes in twelve hours, that’s about one cigarette every 12 minutes, which is pretty scary! And tea has been in plenty though, though I must admit, I’ve been a little rude to my tea guy, Martin, today. He’s bearing the brunt of my frustration. Well, if he decides to turn up to work without footwear, what does he deserve? And worst of all, he made up ridiculous excuses.

I need a social life, but I can’t seem to make the time for it with all this work going on. Keep getting calls of a friends but I’m not able to make it, and those that I really want to talk too, aren’t in a position, physical, mental or emotional, to talk to me. I’m really missing a few people, though I’ve only been speaking to them a couple of months. On another note, my passport expired because I didn’t have the time to go personally and do the job. They should allow delegation; I can’t be expected to represent myself at every single place, at least my lawyer? But I guess not, they think I’m going to go and settle illegally in a European country! Oh well

It’s the Price you pay for the life you choose