Saturday Mornings..

Saturday mornings are my favourite time of the week. I sit at my dining table nursing a cup of hot coffee staring out into the little backyard of mine . The 20-odd potted plants smiling and waving their foliage to the gentle morning breeze. Butterflies are up and about gathering nectar for breakfast and a gorgeous red dragon-fly darts between the flowers showing off his wares. The sunlight streams in though my french windows and glints off the silver lining on my ceramic tiled floors. Buttery yellow sunlight…I can almost smell the sun.I raise my eyes and look at the farm behind my wall.. an array of green greets my eyes. The fronds of the date palms -dark green with yellowing tips, the pomogranate trees with its fresh green leaves, the creepers on the wall.. all bask in the glory of the early morning sun. The weeds on the ground are fuzzy green and all is silent.

The ipad is flipped open to let in the musicians of the day-The Piano Guys on cello & piano , Dr.L.Subramaniam on his mesmerising violin, Vikku Vinaykram on the ghatam, Zakir Hussain, Niladri Kumar, Pt.Ravi Shankar, Anoushka, Apocalyptica….(thanks to youtube) and more.

I play the music on full blast.. my walls reverberate with the notes. The music streams through my ears, courses down my veins and enters my blood. My heart thumps in tune & there is vague sense of upliftment. An other-wordly feeling…my soul levitates and transcends to another dimension where only music and I exist. It fills every pore of my body, overwhelms my senses and my cup of joy overflows. The sheer joy of being alive.. of being blessed to listen to masterpieces of maestros.

I love my saturday mornings…probably because it feeds every man’s need for some solitude. When I do not have to worry about other mundane events & I can just fulfil my wish for some navel-gazing, totally absorbed in myself.

“There are moments during the week when the world comes crashing down on me and I feel cornered, over-whelmed, claustrophobic even.. And then I pause.. I close my eyes .. & I see myself on saturday morning in my mind’s eye enveloped in pale yellow light, verdant green foliage and divine musical notes and then the world doesn’t seem so bad ! “

 

THE HR DIARIES

There are more stories told in an HR Manager’s office, more tears shed and more tissue boxes brought out here than at psychologist’s office. The little steel chair in front of my table is the quintessential “confession couch”. I have heard the oddest tales from the most surprising sources sitting in that chair.

Tales of broken hearts, unrequited love, abusive husbands, nagging wives,  bone-crushing loans back home to name a few.  I am by nature an emotional person . Tears well up in my eyes even during very predictable dialogues in a sentimental movie or book and here I am in the face of raw emotion trying to be poker-faced & in control. It would certainly be less than ideal if I broke down along with the employee and cried my heart out at the insensitivities of life like I want to. There are times when I wish I did not wring my heart out in that emotional roller-coaster but there are some tales that must be heard .. and must be told.

Ria is a mother of two. Abandoned by her husband for another she struggles to make ends meet. Her aging parents are in no position to support her. Her husband has taken loans from most of her relatives and she has to deal with their barbs and insults. She is left to fend for herself ,alone. Her siblings have their own grief and can barely support themselves. So what does the poor girl do? She literally sells her soul to get a job abroad hoping that she can leverage the foreign currency to pay of her loans and bring some semblance of balance to her life.

All HR Managers are skeptical about “recommendation candidates” and so she starts work with a salary that is looks better on paper than in actual reality. Over the months I see her slogging it out at her work station. Come morning, noon or night ,Ria is at work. Come rain or shine she is there. Friday, Saturday, Eid holidays …they are all the same to her..she works and works and works. Work is like a drug that keeps her going. It numbs her pain. Her sense of loss .Her agony of not being able to hold her little children . Her sense of betrayal.

She smiles gently through it all. I wonder.. how can she handle so much unfairness with such equanimity. The woman is an epitome of grace.

I seek feedback from her superiors & peers about her work. The report card is exemplary. The Operations , Nurses , Insurance & Finance team swear by her. They insist that work would never be the same again. I am amazed..she has learnt everything from scratch.

She has set a benchmark so high that no one else can reach it. Such is her dedication, her commitment & her will to excel. She has been beaten in life over and over again. One betrayal after another. One unkind act after another. Life has pushed her down & thrashed her over and over again. And yet she has the guts to stand up, dust herself & start again. She is a fighter .. a champion. Her story must be told.

To many ,HR is just about the payroll processing, performance appraisal, recruitment & selection, warning letters & terminations. But it is so much more than that. It is about “people”. We have a tendency to highlight only the negatives in our line of work. I have given out more terminations & warnings than I have given out letters of commendation & appreciation. In the mad rush that I endure every day I have forgotten my true purpose of taking this career path. I wanted to “be there” for people, to hear the sorrows, to lend a hand to those beaten down, to  offer solutions, to change the world around me in a small way.

There are dark days when I go home bone-weary tired not from physical work but from emotional & moral upheavals. Days when I question my choice of work & days when I wish I had just stuck it out with my safe Engineering degree!( It easier to code that to handle employees. )

But then it is people like Ria who bring me crashing back to reality ..about who I am now and who I aspire to be. She is one of the many unsung heroes I have the blessing to meet in my line of work. Lessons she can teach include more than billing or tallying accounts. She can teach us lessons for life.

And that is what true HR is all about. Understanding “People Power” and rejoicing in it!!

AN EVENING TO REMEMBER

 The Opera House stood calm and poised for an evening of grandeur in the twilight sky, glistening softly with stars. Soft light accentuated the architectural beauty of the masterpiece which was tribute to this Nation’s appreciation of Fine Arts and Culture. The soft, smooth ,creamy exterior gave way to a brilliantly created interior. The ceiling and walls were decorated with typical Islamic geometrical patterns. Beautiful dressed young Omani men and women guided us to our plush red seats that overlooked the stage. I was filled with a curious sense of déjà vu that can only be attributed to watching a lot of movies and reading even more books.

The Nine Jewels of India were to present the Panchtatva (Five Elements) using their fine skills honed from years of practice, training and sheer genius. The air was laden with expectation and excitement.

The lilting notes of the sitar, tabla and bansuri opened the show and filled the opera house with a sense of Space. Soft soothing notes depicting the openness and vastness of the Space, relaxing our mind and body and opening up our souls that longed to be nourished by these ethereal sounds.

Pt Hariprasad Chaurasia played the bansuri with lightness and passion to represent the many moods of Vayu. The music that the Legend created left no doubt in anyone’s mind that this man could make the humble flute something so divine.

The Percussionists lit up the stage with a fine rendition to represent Fire. The bold, crisp notes from the Ghatam played by the maestro, TH Vikku Vinaykram had us gripping our seats with excitement. Our hearts beat with the rhythm he belted out from the beguiling earthen pots in front of him. There were several more pieces played by other jewels on the Tabla and Mridangam but my heart was already stolen by a 70-year old Ghatam player.

Niladri Kumar’s fingers gently plucked the strings of the sitar and the Opera House rang with crystal, clear notes that this versatile musician conjured out of thin air. He attempted to show us the softness of a light drizzle, the slow meandering flow of a swollen river, the light-hearted laughter of a babbling brook, the roar of the waterfall, the awe-inspiring and gigantic waves of the ocean in fury and the many shapes and forms of Jal with his magical fingers.

The last Maestro to take the stage was the brightest jewel of all, Pt Jasraj.The breath caught in our throats as his pure voice filled the air. When he sang the low notes he took us to the depths of the Earth and when he raised his voice we saw the highest peaks. All the other Eight Jewels created a symphony around that golden voice that gave us goosebumps of pleasure. The final piece was bursting with passion as each musician brought out his best and took the audience through a series of highs that finally had us breathless with awe.

On my way back I paused to reflect, closing my eyes and sighing with pleasure as I remembered the mesmerizing music of the evening. But I realized there was more than just music that evening. The message was plain and simple .Just as the musical notes from the Nine Maestros wove together a fine brocade of symphony the Panchtatva unite to form our very being. And just like every note from the sitar, tabla, mridangam, ghatam and flute complemented and accentuated each other, singing the same song and yet standing apart so purely so do the Panchtatva in creating Life.

Truly, it was an evening to remember…

The Travel Diaries- Singapore

Ho w many words have the power to bring a smile to your face and a tear to your eye at the same time? How many words can boast of being able to make your heart beat faster and charge you with emotion? “Singapore” is one such word. It’s not just another place I lived in but it’s a place where a part of me still lives on. It’s hard to describe what’s special about Singapore.

Is it the everyday things that bring a smile to your face? Waking up and calling your room-mate’s name the first thing every morning. The feel of hot coffee on your tongue, and the smell of the morning , laden with promise of a beautiful day . The innumerable trips to FairPrice to buy all kinds of necessary and unnecessary things and coming back with aching arms. The challenges of trying to stuff an already full fridge. Rushing to Frangipani when Manju’s food was too depressing to eat . The late night trips to McDonalds after reading for quizzes to wash the fatigue down with burgers and ice-cream. Sitting on a bridge atop Alexandra Road at 2 in the morning watching the lone car whiz past beneath you while you are slurping ice-cream with friends after a hair-breadth finish while submitting your assignment. Getting calls at 3 in the morning to go to 7/11 to buy some random thing and walking through the streets of a world-class city in your pyjamas . Inhaling passive smoke on the smoking stairs while jamming. The slow,slow rides in the lift. The hours spent in the library doing everything but studying.

Or is the excitement of shopping and shuttling around the place?  Jay-walking to the nearest bus-stop to rush into a 100 or 963. The trips to Vivo to eat Ben and Jerry while watching luxury –liners drop anchor. Getting your feet wet in the paddling pool in the SkyPark while little lights twinkle between your toes. Wandering countless times in National Geographic envying the freedom of those who can travel all day, every day of their lives. Taking in the sheer beauty of the works of art created by the magic of the lens.

Swiping in and out of the MRT while shopping at Orchard Road and Chinatown. Getting lost in Mustafa way past midnight while waiting to pick up an order of hot Gulab Jamuns for a hungry friend back in the hostel. Playing football at the East Coast Park after dancing to a crazy song with six other people in a little tent meant for four. Playing hide-and-seek on the rooftop of the Esplanade and suddenly forgetting the game when you hear your favourite song being played live in the pub below. Bungee jumping and swinging in Clark quay leaving you with a sore throat ,a splitting head-ache but happy memories. The occasional breezer on the bridge with music and friends. Walking barefoot through Fort Canning Park because your third pair of new sandals broke. The half-completed visit to the museum because you left late. The day spent at Jurong with the birds and bees. The cycling trip to Pulao Ubin where a friend took pity on me and took me on a double bike on a ride I will never forget . The cobalt-blue quarry with its waters shimmering in the afternoon sun. The rain-soaked ride back home after being tanned three shades darker. Dancing on Sentosa beach till our feet hurt and dragging reluctant friends into our crazy dance circle. Spending a quiet evening near the Merlion watching tourists click pictures and lovers stand arm in arm.

Or is it the places that are closest to your heart that strike the chord within you every time a memory is triggered?

The Skywalk with myriads of shades flashing in the night. Strolling quietly with friends as the light plays its many colors on your faces while the conversation takes on different hues with every color. The warm, wet ,sun-kissed mornings when you walk to Henderson waves to watch the sunrise. The crunch of leaves beneath your feet as you saunter up the bridge to Kentridge Park to take in the breath-taking view of the harbor. The downy lawns of Hortpark with multi-colored fishes swimming in artificial ponds and reflecting on the side of Bukit Chanda . Watching the shadows play in the wee hours of the morning when you sit beneath a tree on Canterbury Road talking quietly about life, listening to soft music in the company of those closest to you. The pleasant, comfortable silences that speaks everything without saying anything and when all you can hear are the sounds of the night…

In another life, in another time, perhaps if it is written, if it is destined, Singapore would be more than a memory, more than a name that brings tear to my eye and a smile to my face

The Travel Diaries- Africa.. Safari Njema..

The beauty of Africa is in the little things and the big things. You can find it in the vastness of this beautiful continent as you can find it in the full-toothed , pearly-white smiles of its people. I do believe we must change the old proverb “Every dark cloud has a silver lining “ to “The Dark Continent has a silver lining.”

Dreaming about a destination is one thing but getting the whole family to take the plunge for a trip to Tanzania is quite a challenge when you have 4 decades between the four of you. But where there is a will there is a way.. and the needless to say this way led us from Muscat to Doha to Dar-es-Salam to Arusha to Lake Manyara to Ngorongoro to Serengeti to Zanzibar and back.

Landing in unexplored terrain can be quite daunting but the company of good friends can lighten the burden and lift your spirits. Just seeing P at the Airport was enough to light up our eyes and widen our smiles.

Our drive from the Airport to Hotel Sea Cliff was uneventful. At 9:00 AM the affluent Tanzanians were just getting around for work in their smart Prados, Nadias  and Mercs while others were content using the “dala-dalas”( mini local buses). It is only natural to compare any new country with your own, so whatever the eyes took in, the brain compared. The roads were better and cleaner and lined with lush green trees, the people were well turned out and walking at a slow, unhurried pace, the traffic was chaotic in an orderly way and there was no honking anywhere.  Interesting!

Our drive through the Bay Area was beautiful. The blue sea glistened in the morning sun and slow, lazy waves lashed against the shores. Frangipani trees lined the other side of the road which were dotted with beautiful, colonial style villas and bungalows. Certainly a life-style fit for the rich and famous…

Bagamoyo

After a shower and a Macchiato Zanzibari (spiced coffee) at Hotel Sea Cliff we proceeded to Bagamoyo(means Lay down your Heart), an old slave trade center. We took in at the blueness of the sky, the fluffy white clouds hanging so low, the landscape dotted with trees and small houses. Bagamoyo was a sleepy little town but being Eid all people were dressed in their finest clothes and were coming out in hordes from the beaches and parks. We saw some ruins where the slaves were kept before they were sent off in ships to faraway lands, bought old French, German, Dutch and Indian coins, visited a crocodile farm and tried to wrap our arms around a 500-year-old baobab tree. All in a day’s work, I say!

Arusha

The next morning we flew via Precision Air from Dar-es-Salam to Kilimanjaro. From the aircraft the pilot pointed out the” Roof of Africa-Mt.Kilimanjaro”. The sight was ethereal!  A solitary peak , lined with snow surrounded by a sea of clouds, like a dark iceberg jutting out of the ocean. Below us we could see vast, brown and green plains patterned like a mosaic. And as the plane descended we could make out the nyumbanis (homes) & little farms of the rural Arusha tribes. Little thatched-roofed huts with a circular corral where cattle were kept.

Our guide Steven  and the modified Land Rover(which we shall call Bobby Car henceforth) which was to be our car for the forthcoming Safaris awaited us. We could barely contain our excitement as we took our seats and proceeded onwards.

The town of Arusha is located in the heart of the African continent. The weather was pleasant owing to the higher altitude and flowering trees lined the roads. We inhaled the crisp, clean mountain air and reveled in its sweetness. Our first destination was Lake Manayara National Park. We proceeded on smooth, Japanese-made roads that cut through the African countryside revealing open fields and empty lands on either side. We passed through the” Mosquito River” town where we saw a few Masai tribesmen in full tribal gear walking side-by-side with men in formal Western wear. And surprisingly I couldn’t pick the odd man out!

Lake Manyara National Park

An interesting board at the entrance of the National Park reads-“ Remove nothing from the park except Nourishment for the soul, Consolation for the heart and Inspiration for the mind”. Gyaan in the middle of the jungle!! There is no end to surprises.

The national park borders the salt-water lake of Manyara and is located in Great Rift Valley.(remember the Geography lesson in Class 6??)The landscape is filled with mighty baobabs, flat-topped acacias, sausage trees and other varieties of bushes, shrubs and trees. The area is fed by the streams which flow from the western wall of the Great Rift valley. The safari started modestly with packs of gregarious baboons on either side of the road but we broke into gasps of wonder as we turned a corner and saw group of impalas nibbling daintily at the grass. Another few yards down the dirt track made us exclaim again as we saw a herd of zebras drinking water from a shallow pool. The Zebras were beautiful creatures with perfect rounded bodies and gleaming striped coats, calmly chewing the grass and drinking from the pools of water around them. Our next sighting was a family of elephants- Papa, Mamma and Baby! They methodically ripped the trees of their leaves and barks and filled their gargantuan stomachs. Seeing an African elephant walk towards your car in its slow, majestic gait while gently flapping its years can make your breath stop in your throat. I do not think it is fear, because when you look at that magnificent beast walking slowly, but surely at you ,you can only take in its grace and grandeur and Awe is the only emotion you can feel.

We stopped at the Hippo pool a little later to see a herd of hippos lazing in the afternoon sun and cooling their giant bodies in the blue waters of the pool. In the distance we could see herds of zebras, giraffes and wildebeests. A couple of warthogs ( Pumba) crossed our tracks not even glancing at our intrusion. Though nobody said it we were hoping to see the famous arboreal (tree-climbing) lions of Manyara. A few minutes down the track and our prayers were answered. In the harsh African sun a lioness and her cub were fast asleep on the branches of a tree. The little Simba was adorable, like a cuddly toy, hugging the branch in its deep slumber while the Big Mama lay on a higher branch on her side. We stood for some time gazing at the pair, fast asleep and oblivious to our stares, and wondered what dreams they saw.

Ngorongoro Crater

After a refreshing stay at the cozy Octogon Lodge just outside the Ngorongoro crater we proceeded to the beautiful Ngorongoro crater , where people believe Noah’s ark stopped. Surrounded by 9 extinct volcanoes , the Ngorongoro crater measures 8000 sq kms and has the highest density of animals per sq km in the world! It was indeed a wondrous place…we saw herds of zebra grazing in the crater alongside cattle reared by Masai tribesmen wrapped in colorful shawls of red or blue. A few kilometers down the road and we saw a pride of lions and stared in awe at lions mating. A classic example of “Wham, Bham, Thank you Mam!” J

As we drove through the crater our eyes feasted on herds of wildebeest(probably the lazier ones who didn’t migrate to Masai Mara), gazelles, impalas, wild buffaloes and wild elephants all moving at their own pace under the blue African skies. After a packed lunch on the banks of the shimmering , blue Hippo pools we proceeded to Serengeti . As we climbed slowly out of the crater we turned back to catch the final glimpses of the crater-rolling hills melting into the plains, grassland dotted with animals, the streams snaking across the land, low-lying clouds leaving their shadow on the dappled earth, a lone giraffe nibbling at a thorny acacia branch…endless images..

Serengeti National Park

The ride to the wildlife lodge was a quiet one as we took in the wild, harsh beauty of these endless plains. True to its name Serengeti was miles and miles of empty grassland as far as the eye could see, dotted with the flat-topped acacia and sausage trees. We stopped to see a family of hyenas beside the road- Mamma and 2 cubs. A little later we spotted a leopard high up in a sausage tree enjoying an early dinner of fresh gazelle.(blood curdling…with all entrails hanging down the branch…)

After a bone-rattling ride and a fine coating of white dust we finally reached our Wildlife Lodge located beside the Seronera river inside the Serengeti National Park . A long shower and a belly-full of excellent food accompanied by great local music was enough to ease our tiredness and we waited expectantly for the morning.

We started the day on the right note- watched the sun rise over the plains of Serengeti from the watch tower…breathtaking !Showered and squeaky clean we set out eagerly hoping to catch a glimpse of those animals we had not seen so far. We wanted to tick off the Big Five on our list (Lion, Elephant, Rhino, Cheetah and Buffalo),so far- 3 done, 2 more to go. After spending a few minutes pondering about the sloth of the hippos in the nearby river ,we drove on hoping to spot a cheetah and true enough we did. Two beautiful beasts resting in the shade of an acacia by the side of the dirt trail, just an arm’s length from our car. We stayed for a long time just drinking in their feline grace, the perfection of their bodies, their vigilant yellow eyes. Definitely one of the high points of this trip! As we drove on we saw a zillion zebras and a gazillion gazelles (how clichéd!!) nibbling the grass as if their life depended on it! (it probably did…). This trip certainly had some interesting sights you typically see on Discovery channel- a large male tusker peeing..that was quite an apparatus!, a tussle between three young elephants, a family of giraffes frolicking, vultures waiting for the lion to finish off a half-eaten zebra and so much more..

I can say with gumption.. you haven’t seen Africa if you haven’t experienced Serengeti. Though we planned this trip for months nothing could prepare me for the beauty and enormity of Serengeti. It is a study of contrasts- so empty and yet so full of life! Serengeti makes you feel small and yet at the same time fills you with a sense of awe and wonder at its greatness . It leaves you numb and at the same time leaves all your senses tingling. It makes you feel alien and at the same time makes you feel you are a part of the same story..

It comes back to haunt me in my quiet moments.. I just need to close my eyes and after a few seconds I am transported from my apartment in Muscat to all that is best of Africa..The crisp, fresh wind whipping through my hair, the faint taste of dust on my lips, the soft evening sun warming my skin, the smell of Life in all its trueness, the rush of excitement when you spot an animal.. I could go on and on.. Suffice it to say that Serengeti is like a drug.. you just have to keep going back for more and more…

The Travel Diaries- Muscat,Oman

I was 10 years old when I first heard about the country of Oman and its much-loved ruler Sultan Qaboos. Never in even my most sedate dreams did I ever expect to move to this country. It has just been 10 days since my move and I am slowly falling in love with the place and its easy laid-back pace.

Muscat is a capital city unlike any other in the GCC states I have seen before (and I have seen quite a  few, Abu Dhabi, Riyadh, Doha, Amman, Manama).It is a city blessed with a harsh beauty quite unlike any other in this region. The honey-colored Al Hajar mountains run through the city and is set against pale, blue skies unmarred by clouds. The air is warm and slightly humid. You can almost smell the heaviness of the Gulf of Oman even away from the numerous beaches that skirt the city. The streets are clean and wide, though you will not find the six-lane roads like Dubai and cars zipping through them. The pace of the drivers is unhurried and traffic jams are uncommon except during rush-hour, and even that results in just minor discomfort for the commuters. The driving style is more Indian than Arab and I believe it is one of the many things that we Indians have taught the Omanis.

In the limited time I have been here I have visited Al Qurum Beach, Qantab Beach and Muttrah and each of these places are quite unlike the other even though they are just a few minutes away from the other.

Al Qurum beach is like any other South Indian beach though the waves are much more tame and beach-goers are more disciplined. There is a pretty Corniche with sidewalks for walkers & joggers and lined with ornate lamp-posts that give it an old-world feel.  But anyone who even likes to think he has been taken back a decade or two will be jolted back to the present as the Corniche has popular outlets like TCHE, Starbucks, Japengo café etc. The evening breeze brings with it all kinds of people, some who simply lounge in their parked cars, some in full exercise gear, briskly walking or jogging their way to better health, others who walk simply taking in the beauty of the sunset & enjoy the cool air. On the beach one finds children building sand-castles, youngsters and families riding waves and old couples sitting on foldable chairs conversing in low tones. The land areas that jut into the sea are dotted with hotels & villas with breath-taking views. Qurum Heights has the residences of some of the richest people in Muscat. Even while on the beach the hazy background of mountains serves as a constant reminder of the contrasts in this city.

The drive to Qantab beach through Wadi al Kabeer (which means large oasis) is a beautiful one and first timers often take in the drive in silence. The road undulates through the mountains like a grey river with a surprise around every corner. Date palms line the road in a bid to enhance the beauty and lend an air of domesticity. But nothing can quite diminish the harsh beauty of the mountains. It is quite an assault to the senses. What it lacks in color it makes up in texture. I can almost hear my Geography teacher talking about soil and wind erosion and varied landforms. It is like the textbook has come alive. Some mountains are sharp and look like rocky cliffs while others look like someone has just moulded some clay to make the ranges. Some seem like they will crumble if touched while others look forbiddingly sharp. And to make the surprise even sharper the mountains suddenly dip into the sea and we are at Qantab beach. Sharp cliffs eroded by the wind and sea stand out on the beach and even in the sea. The waters are warm, deep blue and look inviting. Omani boatmen rush to your side and offer to take you on boat-rides around the cliffs and further into the sea. And it is a hair-raising ride but one that must not be missed. The salty sea wind whips through your hair as the boat skims over the waves and you clutch it with your dear life, all the while attempting to look brave.

A drive through the Muttrah Corniche and Souk transports you to the Oman of yesteryears. With the sea on one side and the mountains flanking the other the Muttrah Corniche is a pretty sight. Though the Corniche has been recently done up, it has still managed to retain the old-world charm. The shops in Muttrah sell handicrafts, beautiful silver jewellery etc and are a pleasure to walk into. Unlike Dubai or Abu Dhabi who have lost their Arab identity by over-engineering and trying to better the other, in Oman the Sultan seems to believe in retaining the Omani identity. This is evident by the fact that there are hardly any sky-scrapers marring the blue skies and that most architectural pieces retain their Arab style.

Though the natural beauty of city has certainly taken my breath away I must confess the people of Oman have captured my heart with their easy smiles & warm attitudes. I have been a constant visitor to the Middle East since the age of 10 and I have seen Saudis, Qataris, Emiratis, Kuwaitis, Bahrainis, Egyptians, Jordanians and Palestinians. In all the other GCC countries I have rarely encountered Arabs who look as if they work for a living and that they genuinely need the money but here, the taxis are manned by them, the customer service desks are staffed by them, you see them in the souks and markets doing all jobs that you would typically find an expat doing in UAE or Qatar or Saudi. Even the well-educated Omanis are extremely polite and genial!

If I could give away an award for the “Best Behaved Arab” it would definitely go to the Omani!!

Games Indians Play

“Games Indian Play” is sure to strike a chord in all of us if we are being honest to ourselves. The first thing we need to do before reading this book is probably tell ourselves that. I am sure there’s not one of us who isn’t susceptible to some of the basic fallacies Raghunathan has pointed out so eloquently in this book. Be it jumping a queue, throwing garbage on the roads, our tendency to look for loopholes in any system etc. His examples hit the bull’s eye every time. A couple of his insights really hit the nerve for me.. Using Game theory to understand your Life’s decisions: Most often in life we are stuck between choosing what’s best for us and what’s best for all parties involved. All of us are guided by self-interest and we want to earn maximum brownie points in any decision so as to maximize our happiness. Often we make decisions thinking only of ourselves and though what we earn through such decisions is much more it is often not sustainable. We need to learn to trust the other party and believe that he will not renege his side of the deal and go on to choose the alternative that will be good for all of us and that will be sustainable in the long run. The problem is that we often think short-term and try to maximize our happiness for the “here and now”. Tit for Tat /Gentleman strategy: I am one of those people who believe in Massive Retaliation if I feel I have been wronged. I might not go all out to fight the injustice meted out to me and nor do I retaliate in a measured manner. I just cut the person out of my life. And being a habit I have practiced over the last 3 decades I can say that I do it now with ease and ruthless panache. I’m not proud of it and lately I have been feeling the pinch of alienating friends/ relatives over certain minor/major tiffs/misunderstandings. So, Axelrod’s Tit for Tat strategy to deal with defectors seems like the apt strategy to follow especially since I am keen to start over. What this strategy says is that you should never be the first person to be mean to someone, but if someone is mean to you, give it back in the same manner. But the next time you interact with the same person you should go back to your old self of being a gentleman/lady again. This way the other person knows he’s given you grief and that you are not one who will take it lying down. However by reverting to being your old charming self again you give the person a second chance during your next interaction. Makes sense? I think it’s practical too! Fairness: The author is absolutely right when he points out that we Indians have a very high level of tolerance for unfairness/injustice and we just don’t do enough to retaliate. Though on principle we do believe that we do not stand for unfairness it is our day-to-day interactions with society that high-light how often we reinforce the wrong-doers by simply playing along. It’s the auto-drivers in Bangalore that come to my mind when I think of this concept. During the initial weeks I used to argue and insist on them switching on the meter and I would pay only the right fare. But it became increasingly difficult to find law-abiding drivers and often in my rush to get to work or home I’d just pay whatever amount the man asked me to. So I’m just reinforcing this habit and not really doing anything about it. The author enumerates several other everyday examples that make us want to hang our head in shame. Game Theory & the Gita I think the icing on the cake is this chapter where the author points out how the actions Krishna exhorted Arjuna to take is the same as the “Co-operate “ strategy we find in Game theory. To co-operate is dharma while to defect is adharma. Also the author quotes Krishna from the Gita , “You have right only to action and never to the fruit of action. Fruit of action should not be your motivation, nor should you be driven by attachment to action”. Imagine if we only paused to think over these words every time we face a dilemma in Life. Then, Decisions would be a lot easier to make, though to evoke such thinking at crucial moments would require discipline & practice. But then again no one said Life was easy…

The Travel Diaries-Amman

You never really know much about a country or its people until you visit it for real. That was my case with Jordan. The view from the airplane seat was spectacular. At first glance it looked like a desert with large, brown dunes but on looking closer I realized I was looking at a sea of rolling hills and valleys..all in shades of brown. The drive to the hotel from Queen Alia airport made me realize that Amman was all about sunny, blue skies, fresh mountain air and totally unlike any capital city I had ever visited. The city is silent….its almost like being in a silent movie. This place had a laid-back feel about as if it didn’t need to exert itself to make its presence felt..like it was telling us that it shall endure for years to come as it has already done.

An oft-heard phrase here is “Welcome” and this is punctuated with a sunny smile. The Jordanians are a friendly lot, with easy smiles and frequent nods. Language is a constraint for them. However what they lack in linguistic skills they make up in enthusiasm and warmth. I can say without doubt that of all the different Arabs I have met they are by far the warmest. Though work didn’t permit me to act “touristy” I did get to visit downtown Amman. It was like stepping back a couple of decades. There was a quaint , old-world charm about the place. Narrow roads, ancient shops , funny boards in English (eg: Al Sanabel-Rest &Pup).The drive to downtown gave us some spectacular views of the sprawling city . The hills are almost covered with small buildings in pastel and brown hues. There is nothing fake or artificial about Amman. This place is naturally beautiful and no extra effort has been made to make it look pretty like a Dubai or an Abu Dhabi. The ancient Roman amphitheatre only added to the “time-machine” effect. Climbing the steep steps to reach the top of the gallery only made me realize I was way out of shape!

The Dead Sea expedition was short but memorable one. The 45 minute drive from Amman to the Dead Sea took us through mountains and valleys and our eyes feasted on some fantastic views. Often we saw shepherds grazing their goats & sheep while they hung on backs of donkeys looking absolutely bored. (reminded me of The Alchemist). It was late afternoon when we reached the Dead Sea and my first thought when I saw it was “Ethereal”. It was like a large, velvety, silver blanket shimmering in the late afternoon sun with a hazy backdrop of far away hills. I couldn’t wait to get closer. As we walked down the private beach to the water I realized the air smelt different. It was heavier, salty and “minerally”. As I stood on the Amman side of the Dead Sea I saw the hills on the other side and my host told me that it was West Bank and the city I could see on the banks of the Dead Sea was Jericho, the oldest city in the world. Amazing! But what totally blew my mind was the water itself. When I dipped my hand in it and created some ripples the consistency of the water changed ..like it was mixed with oil ! It was as if the water was made of layers and by touching it I had shifted the layers! There were a few families all around me jumping into the water & squealing as the salt hit every little scrape & cut on their bodies while they effortlessly floated. But even inspite of all the activity around me the Dead Sea was like a large, tranquil cocoon and by far the quietest place I have ever seen. All in all it was a good trip and I look forward to visiting this country again.. and the next stop will be Petra…until then Masalama Jordan ( to which I know their reply would be “Welcome”!)

The Travel Diaries- Canada

When I close my eyes and think of Canada I see clouds… large,fluffy white cumulus clouds hanging from the bright blue autumn sky. Hanging so low .. that when you’re on the road you actually think you can stretch a little, reach up and touch them.. I love Candaa!!! Its so big, and bright and airy…There’s just so much space everywhere…

As you can see I can get carried away a little bit..but this country is close to my heart though I’ve visited it just once with dreams of immigrating there eventually…

Our 10-day trip was in autumn when all trees where clothed in bright red and orange leaves. Something we never see in the South. And the weather was chilly.. around 2-5 degrees. There were 3 stops in our itenary- Windsor, Toronto and Niagara.

Our 14-hour flight from Dubai to Toronto via Frankfurt made us lose all sense of time. It seemed to me that all I did was eat, watch movies, sleep and eat again. The first thing that struck me when we landed in Toronto was the number of friendly faces. All officials had smiles and beleive me they were genuine. Our journey to Windsor was via the train and our body clocks had long since lost their rhythm so we slept again till we reached Windsor late at night.

Windsor is a beautiful city on the banks of the Detriot river. The air is clean and crisp and boulevards are lined with trees. There are parks at every corner and bushy-tailed squirrels runing up and down the trees.Perfect for walks and exploring the place.So we grabbed our coffee and bagels from Tim Hortons and headed down to the river-front. The other side of the river is Detriot,USA. You can see people walking around, having coffee at cafes, generally Life in motion. There are bridges (Ambassador bridge)connecting the two cities with ,checkposts of course. And there are people who live in Canada and work in Detroit! Awesome ,huh?

After spending a few days in Windsor we decided to drive down to Niagara Falls. So with a map in hand and the wide, wide roads beckoning us we set forth on the next leg of the journey. The drive was pure joy. The sights on either side of the road were breathtakingly beautiful. There were lush,ever-green pine forests just crying out to be explored. Little lakes with crystal-clear blue water. And beautifully planned cities with picture-perfect buildings and houses. The vast expanse of this country was a sight to behold indeed.. but what really took my breath away was when we crossed one of the Great lakes -Lake Erie. Nothing,beleive me… nothing can prepare you for this vast expanse of water that stretches on for miles and miles. Its like crossing a sea.. and there were ships on it too. I have never seen anything like it and I doubt it if I ever will either.It was a simply amazing and an extremely humbling experiance as well. You just realise you are speck in the greater scheme of things.

When you reach Niagara, before you see the Falls you hear it. The sound of thunder first.. then you feel the light mist in the air and then you actually see the Falls. The water falls with such fury and vigour that even at a distance it intimidates you. Such raw energy unleashed is simply awe-inspiring. We clicked the perfuctory photographs at the Horshoe falls on the Canadian side and the American falls on the American side and walked in the Niagara falls avenue. The later part of the evening was spent in the town by the Falls where we spent some really interesting moments at Ripley’s Beleive It or not musuem.

Our last stop was Toronto.Toronto was a big city like any other world-class city. The sky-scrapers, avenues lined with bright stores, parks and boulevards..The harbour front was an interesting place to hang out in.However,the best thing I liked about Toronto was the awesome breakfast we had every morning at Holiday Inn.. with piping hot donuts, muffins and bagels… mmm.. an absolute dream.

Finally, no visit to any country is complete unless I visit a musuem or fort or anything that has been touched by history. The visit to Casa Loma quenched my thirst for that. A quaint castle owned by  Sir Henry Pellat who certainly had a lot of money and a lot of good taste too. Definitely worth a visit, I say.

All in all Canada was beautiful country where Nature still has not been reined in and where it still gets a chance to flaunt its beauty. Something that’s becoming so rare in this highly ” civilised” existence we call Life..

The Travel Diaries- Doha

I landed in Doha with a lot of expectation about the place. The city aspiring to be the next Dubai. The City that is bidding (ambitiously) for the 2022 FIFA World Cup. The City which is the HQ of Al Jazeera. But this is just a sleepy little town..or maybe I’m being too harsh.. after all I am comparing it to one of the most opulent cities in the world, Dubai. Still Doha disappoints in that it lacks the energy and vigour of Dubai. Its dry and bleak.. inspite of the landscaped lawns on the Corniche.. a desert is a desert.. I don’t think it should try to be something it cannot be..

Well, the Ritz Carlton hotel too didnt measure up to what I imagined it to be.. its grand ..yes.. but I expected more from the Ritz brand. The Atlantis has a lot more class and grandeur.

My first visit in the city was to a mall ( in true Arab fashion) . Vellagio is modelled after the Vellagio in Las Vegas which is modelled after Venice. Seriously.. fake of fakes? To be honest.. the mall is pretty.. especially the ceiling , that’s done up like a real sky. And the canal that runs through the middle with water that’s much too clear if you ask me.

However the Museum of Islamic Art didn’t disappoint in the least. The building itself looks quite non-descript from the outside but once your inside it blows your mind away. The patterns are predominantly geometrical.. triangles, squares, circles..and the views of the Corniche are breathtakingly quaint.

The collection of art comprises primarily of works of calligraphy, pottery, sheets from the Quran, beautifully illustrated manuscripts from around the Middle East, old and fine carpets, exquisitely engraved penboxes, incense burners, candlestands, lamps and so on dating back to thousands of years ago. The collection geographically spans Iran, Iraq, Turkey, Spain, Egypt and even India. A well-spent two hours which were a joy to the eye.

It’s late afternoon by the time I leave the museum .In the hot afternoon sun dhows stand motionlessly in the sea. When it’s Ramadaan the Muslim world slows down.. and everything has an air of lethargy even inanimate objects. It’s like watching everything move in slow motion till sunset.. and then night turns into day. Cars zoom on the streets and the malls slowly fill up with people. The lobby at the Ritz is full of Arabs drinking kawa and chatting.The Qataris lack the flair and flourish of the Saudis or the Emiratis. They are a quieter lot if you ask me. And that propbably explains the silence in the city. Its so quiet… so very quiet.. that its a little spooky. Like my colleague put it very eloquently, ” This place is small-time dead

Maybe I’m being unfair and judgemental. After all no city in the Islamic world can truly show its spirit during the day in Ramadaan. Perhaps when I visit Doha again in winter the pace would have quickened….let’s see..