Learning to build birdhouses

This week my team met to review our progress through the first half of the year. We decided as a team to do a community giving exercise together after our meeting. I have always taken the easier way out when it comes to a community service event, donate money. Time seems to be at a premium and I have been very stingy with that.

This Friday, however, I was happy I made amends. I was happy I made the time. With the rest of my team, we visited a school....a very different school. This school is called "Masti ka Patshaala" which roughly translates to "learning center of fun". This is an after school resource center for under privileged children that teaches them through art, craft, music and dance. This is the only way to keep these children engaged, keep them interested in going to school and away from other negative influences. This is the initiative of an NGO called Search Years (www.searchyears.org) whose objective is to reduce drop-outs from schools. I was surprised to know that only about 20% of students who enroll into government schools in India finish their schooling!!

We reached this school and we had an activity to work with the children. Each of us worked with a group of 3-4 children to build our own terracotta birdhouses. The children knew this very well and took the lead in showing me how to make a birdhouse. There was a very enthusiastic small child called Tilak and he was the leader. He told me the details of how to work with the clay, what the size of the opening should be for the bird to be able to build a nest in the birdhouse, what designs and motifs to carve on the exteriors and so on. There was a quiet boy called Vinod who was busy making dummy bird figures and designs to beautify the birdhouse. He worked very hard at it. The third boy in our group was Krishna, he seemed an accomplished consultant when it came to building the birdhouse. He gave good advice to the rest of us, was resourceful in arranging water and clay as we needed and he did make beautiful flower-like designs on terracotta to provide our birdhouse a good finish. The boys told me that they were good friends. They were all in the same age-group, between 8 and 10 years. They were enthusiastic children and you could see that they carried a passion in life.....a passion and confidence to make something out of life.

It was a truly humbling afternoon learning to build a birdhouse from three children. Their palpable passion and enthusiasm was infectious. The simple joy and gratitude that these children showed asks you to stop and evaluate your priorities. It reminds you to be grateful for everything you have. It nudges you to reflect on whether you are spending enough time doing what gives you happiness. It makes you wonder if you are giving enough back?

Later in the evening as I left for the airport, I realized it is not only the birds that need their birdhouses to be strong, it is also these children......they need their hearts to be strong......their spirit to be strong. Life has been and is tough for these children. These children already know what tough circumstances are, but they have the courage and ambition to overcome the circumstances. They have clearly taken the first step. I pray they have the courage to continue. I pray they have the courage to take the leap, but not stop in mid air. I pray they have the courage to take a fall but not break their spirit. I pray for their success.....and I hope they learn to fly and reach their own beautiful birdhouses!!!

Kings don't ride on horses anymore

One of the big influences in my life is my grandfather. He was born into a royal family in the British Raj days. The family continues the tradition of the oldest living member being revered as the "King"....well, technically. It is but a notional title of course. In my childhood, I had this notion in my mind, that the older you get, the more closer you are to being King. So, with every passing year, I would ask my grandfather - "When will you be King?". My grandfather would chuckle or smile but say nothing.

One day in the new millennium, my grandfather did become "King". He became the oldest member of the family and with muted fanfare was "crowned". I remembered the numerous occasions when I had asked him the question and now it had happened!! I was really excited as I traveled to meet my grandfather. When I met him, I realized that he was still very much the same. For one, he was still my grandfather. His humility was intact. His caring and loving attitude was intact. His fair and honest approach to life remained the same. I never saw him ruffled, not before, not after. His calm sense of purpose shone through. And I realized that what I admired him for were really these things - humility, fairness, compassion and a calm sense of purpose. This is what makes him the "King" and not just some notional title.

I realize now why he chuckled when I asked him the question - "When will you be King?". I realize now more than ever that he always was and will be "King". In my heart, he is my King. Kings don't ride horses anymore, but they shape other's lives. Thank you for showing the way and living by example...you have shaped my life in a big way!! Hope I live up to it and in case, I can't measure up to it, this will always remain my tribute to you!!

The case of the missing shopping cart

Having grown up reading Enid Blyton's Famous Five and Secret Sevens, it is but natural that everything in life is either a mystery or an adventure for me. The latest in my series is the curious case of the missing shopping cart.

I was participating in this nation's favourite pastime - shopping in the big hypermarket in that wonderful mall. This is a monthly ritual for our family. It is one of the things that the family does together......grocery shopping for the month in the big hypermarket in that wonderful mall. It is our big adventure weaving through the maze of vegetables, juices and cereals and then emerging at the other end to swipe the card and leave happily pushing our carts. We embark on this big adventure the first Saturday or Sunday of the month.

This Saturday was no different and everything started off just as it should. We walked in and pulled out the shopping cart that was waiting eagerly for us. The five of us - my wife, our two girls, the shopping cart and I - set off on our adventure navigating the maze. At the end of one hour, we had that smile of satisfaction on our faces of a job well done as we swiped our card to pay for the adventure and head on to our car for the journey back home. That is when disaster struck. As we headed back to the car, I could not resist browsing through the bookstore next door and took my eyes of the shopping cart for a few minutes. So did the rest of the family and the shopping cart was left alone outside the bookshop for those few minutes. As we came back, we realized that someone had pushed off with our beloved shopping cart!! We were left holding someone else's shopping cart which was less full and for us certainly less useful.

All hell broke loose, I was extremely self critical about my role in the episode and how I had been irresponsible and stupid to leave the cart unattended. The rest of the family was consoling me and at the same time wondering if I will have the courage to go through this shopping adventure again to pick up the same things and swipe my card again. I reported the loss of the shopping cart and its valuable ingredients to the hypermarket manager. He was trying hard to be sympathetic but none of his efforts could hide the hidden expression on his face that said to me - "Loser". They promised to call me back if someone returned the cart and its valuable ingredients.

My wife and I discussed the issue...nah, no one was going to return it...they might have a long drive back to return it and would give up because of sheer laziness.....or did some one walk away with our shopping cart on purpose......or is this the latest fraud ring in town.....or that new super cereal and the extra chunky pasta sauce that one rarely finds these days, I am sure no one wants to return that. We had every reason to think that our month's grocery and added essentials needed a complete re-purchasing. And yes, there was only one reason for someone to return the stuff. The only one reason that they were kind and decent people. But hey, in today's world, you don't bet on that too much. It was a one in a million chance?

The next day being Sunday was a lazy start. I had tried hard to forget the missing shopping cart and almost succeeded when our phone rang. It was from the hypermarket and lo, someone had returned our cart. That was big news and a huge relief for us. More importantly, it made me question my pessimism that today's world was devoid of kind and decent folks. The one in a million chance had worked....there are a few good men and women out there....believe, trust, have faith....there is goodness around you....don't give up hope. Every Enid Blyton adventure ends with a victory for the good...so does mine.

And before I close to those decent folks who did the decent thing by returning the missing shopping cart, thank you....you help retain trust and goodness in the world.

My own miracle story

Someone being nice to you is a miracle these days......Someone who is a complete stranger being nice to you is a bigger miracle these days......Someone who is a complete stranger in a foreign land being nice to you is the biggest miracle these days? The "don't trust strangers" refrain that we hear from our very young days in school probably makes it this way. But my story is a miracle because I felt it at that moment given my circumstances....so, let me rewind to the month of May this year when this happened.

Traveling with young kids is a big responsibility. You can't just up and go. You need to plan your day much better when you travel with kids....well, knowing me I would have planned anyway, but kids are a good excuse as any. So, we were in Paris this May and I had planned every day with great degree of "research". Which metro to take, how much distance to cover, which places to see and and in what order of priority, blah blah.....every minute detail or so I thought. www.rapt.info gives you all the info you need. And hey, everything worked to plan and we finished an exciting week in Paris.

This was the day to head back home. The flight out was at around ten in the morning. My "research" had revealed that from where we stayed it would be best if we boarded the train from Stade de France to reach Charles De Gaulle by 8.30 am or so. Well that would be much better than going back into town to board from Gard Du Nord, because I thought that was the longer route. I told my wife how my "research" had helped me find a new route that was much quicker and shorter and was really pleased with myself. But as luck would have it, when we reached Stade De France, the train station was deserted.....the information booth was closed....the ticketman was missing ........ I was forced to go to the ticket vending machine for us to get our tickets to the airport. The ticket vending machine was no rocket science..... I was confident of choosing the right ticket and getting my family safely on the train to the airport. I had used the machine earlier in the week and though I had some difficulty with it accepting my card, I was able to buy tickets with cash. Confidently I stepped up, chose the ticket options and the machine told me that I had to pay Euro 27. I pulled out two notes of Euro 20 each only to realize that the machine accepted coins or card.....no notes, please!! I had just emptied out my coins with the taxi driver...Not enough coins!! So, time to try the card. And as my worst fears came true, the machine refused to recognize the card. Not a person in sight...a deserted train station....not a cab in sight....middle of nowhere...two kids and four suitcases.....that is where my "research" had landed us. I was breaking into a sweat....my usually unflappable wife was getting worried too....that was a sign that I had really screwed up. I had a silent prayer on my lips.

Just as it seemed we were stuck in no man's land, I hear a voice...."Aap India se ho?"....."Are you from India?"....it sounded like Hindi, close to Hindi or was is some version of Hindi? Well, if it wasn't Hindi, I could still understand it. I turned to find a person appear out of nowhere. He had a grey shirt and an almost grey pant....he wore a cap and had a bag slinging across his body. He had South Asian features? I was just relieved to see someone in that place at that time. I explained my predicament, he swiped his card...it worked, bought us tickets...I had 2 notes of Euro 20 and some coins adding up to 5 Euro. I needed to pay him Euro 27, he plucked the Euro 25 out of my hand...said that was fine and rushed into the station. As he was stepping in, he turned back and shouted directions about which platform we should go for the train to the airport. Then, he disappeared into the station. Disappeared into an empty station? The station was now as deserted as it had been when we first reached here.

The good Samaritan who came out of nowhere.....I am not even sure I thanked him well enough, everything was a daze. I still owe him a big thank you...I owe him 2 Euro....but, he showed me that a good human being can be a miracle worker for some one else...This is certainly a miracle story for me and my family....Was it one man's goodness or was it something more? I'll never know, but I'll never forget too. This is my way of remembering my miracle man!! Thank you!!

My Scatterbrained Generation...but, who am I to say!!

I read an article this weekend about the "breaking news" culture in news production and dissemination. About how issues debated fiercely a year ago have no recall value today. Well, is it an issue with the news production company or does this mirror the tastes of the audience? Are we increasingly becoming a scatterbrained generation that is easily distracted?

When was the last time you did something for the first time? This resonates with our generation that loves innovation and newness.....but hey, not everything is accomplished by doing something for the first time...Isn't excellence achieved by doing the same old thing for the hundredth time? But who am I to say.....I am writing this blog because i wanted to do something new?

How many times have we provided feedback to our co-workers or friends that they are not good at multitasking? How can a generation that encourages multitasking as a core competence get back in return concentration and attention? Well, concentrating on that one important thing could get us somewhere instead of doing the hundred that gets you nowhere. But who am i to say..... I should be spending time with my daughters instead of typing this out on my rickety keyboard?

Talking about daughters reminds me.....my daughters want a new Barbie and I wonder what happened to the last toy we bought? It lies forgotten and neglected in the bottom draw. Do we focus more on acquiring new? Do we live in a world that has forgotten the old? Thanks to Apple and Microsoft and everything high tech, man is keen on pushing the boundaries, but is this also leading to a generation that is irritated with the old, that does not remember the old, that does not value the old? But who am I to say....when was the last time I called up my old friends and talked to them?

All the world philosophies talk about the the stillness of the mind, about being in the present, about deep listening. When I look around , I see the opposites. I see a father talking to his daughter...but is also fiddling his blackberry. I see a mother feeding her baby....but is also watching the television. I see everyone doing multiple things. I see every other person feeling neglected. I see emotional breakdown. I see a generation that is fragile. I see a generation that is distracted. I see a generation that fails to concentrate on the one thing that can make it happy.

Breaking news: We are conditioned to be distracted. You will forget you even read this in 10 minutes. You will be on to the next breaking news....move on....my musings are no breaking news in any case.

Games people play

This is the age of physic Paul, the clairvoyant octopus that can predict football matches. I heard somewhere that if one were to place a ten dollar bet on each Paul prediction, by the end of the world cup, one would be richer by close to ten thousand dollars!! This entertaining octopus story apart from being an advertisement for football, brings up questions about life itself - are we just stage actors in a huge preplanned drama and is it possible someone somewhere has a script? Maybe, Paul had a sneak peek into that script? Is that script what we call destiny? Does the script change dynamically depending on what the actors do? Is this a big soap opera on someone's 42 inch plasma TV? Is this a video game on someone's new Play Station....Are you a graphic image in a high resolution environment.....well, maybe ....... maybe not....but it is intriguing to say the least. Do you have the controls for this game or are the buttons being pushed elsewhere? Let me know when you find out....