Bittersweet Memoirs

Yessss! Its inching closer and closer. 2019 is going to be my year! All that I want to be I will be.. All that I want to achieve I will achieve! Wiser, smarter, sharper, fitter...so many words, then out of the blue - an epiphany - "This is exactly what you said to yourself a year back, bugger" - I'm thinking out loud. Is this deja vu? 

Cut to exactly 365 days back. I was King of my Castle; building success stories of my own whims and fancies. 2017 was a roller coaster ride - professionally and personally. Ups and downs like you wouldn't believe it. I thought I left the worst behind me as I was stepping into what was to be a glorious 12 months ahead! Optimism theoretically breeds naivety - and there I was - Exhibit A. 

The year started on an fairly positive note, professionally. Personal front - totally different scene. Someone from my family went through a terrifying ordeal and I knew she needed family around her. Left everything behind - a successful program nearing completion - to be with her in her time of need. Looking back, this one incident cost me dearly at a later stage. Emotional fool? Perhaps. But I grew up knowing that the buck always stops at you. When no one else takes responsibility, stand the hell up and give two shits to what the world has to say. (Ekla cholo re.. playing in my naive head)

Then started a shit-storm that would go on to change almost everything I thought I knew about people, work, friends and life in general. I got sucker punched and gutted at work with an almost 'Take No Prisoners' approach. And for the longest time, I could not believe what was happening to me. I mean, I've always operated a certain way and that would usually bring me bouquets, not brickbats. Where was I going wrong? And its not like I did not try. I reached out to everyone - colleagues, mentors, family, friends for some reprieve, some way out, any way out. But this rabbit hole had other plans for yours truly. And this is how 2018 became my very own 24/7 nightmare. 

I have to admit this - I was broken. To a point where I would wake up dead in the night panicking, fearing what the next day had in store for me. At this point, its fair to mention this was all new to me. I've never been timid or shied away from a knife fight. 13 years away from your folks and living out of a 9 different cities will do that to you I guess. I was the Alpha, the guy who would swing hardest and longest and knock the bloody ball out of the yard. Yet, this fear came from familiar territory - knowing that I was truly and suddenly alone in this sea of sharks. It jars you to your bones, this unfamiliar feeling of incompetence, to forget all you have achieved and to be treated like an unwelcome addition to your team. 

And so, I bent over and over to accommodate till I could take it no more. It is ironic, I guess, we find our true worth only when the world around writes us off. I had my back against the wall, for the longest time, so I broke the damn wall down. I will no longer play or be the victim, I promised myself. And all the bitterness built inside found its way out through one act of brevity after another. The first one was a supposedly foolhardy decision to take a road trip to the Himalayas during the peak of monsoon season. Everyone was confident I had lost my marbles. Maybe I did. But I had to find that 20 something Alpha who wouldn't take no for an answer and bring him back. And so I did. It was tough, it was almost fatal for my spouse and me, but we made it! I'll save details for a different post. (For reference, google monsoons in Manali between the 10 - 17 August 2018) 

The most important lesson learnt though, was to let go. I was guilty of looking at someone I admired with the same coloured lenses that I would have worn half a decade back. And that was my mistake, another near fatal one. The fact that I refused to change, or stayed in denial as the world, people  and their circumstances changed caused my metaphoric doom. The day I decided to look at people exactly the way they were is the exact day I could sleep well again. I became admittedly more self serving than I used to be and it made life so much more peaceful for me and my loved ones. And to those I would idolize and demonize, I saw them as who they were - just people who were playing their parts in this stage. 

So why take this up now, 5 minutes before the clock strikes 12? I don't have an answer to that, neither is this a chance to play out my first world problems to the world. This post is a silent prayer, a chance to reminisce all that I thought I lost, and all that I gained and so much more. Was 2018 a bad year? Not at all. It was a year that gave me everything I deserved, not everything I desired. Am I the same guy I was exactly 365 days back. No, Thank God for that! What will 2019 hold for me?

A new life, an interesting cross-road of personal desire and professional ambition. 2019 will come with a plethora of personal and professional milestones - and opportunities that have taken years to take shape. And I had better be ready for all of it. With the same trademark optimism that I thought I had lost. Wiser, Smarter, Sharper, Fitter and Larger Than Life! 2018 was my best friend, a rascal who kept sucker punching me while giving out a glimpse of hope at the end. 2019 will be my poetry, my book - written, shaped and forged with all that I am and all that I will be. 

Wish you a Brilliant Year Ahead, Universe! Here we go... 3...2...1

Cheers, 

Debansh 

(Blogger, Survivor, Realist, Achiever)

Why I Don't Celebrate My Father's Birthday!

It's true. I do not celebrate his birthday. I am his only son, his only child in fact, and I do not celebrate the day my father was born. Truth is, I do not know the day my father was born...

Though I've never met my grandfather in person, I'm told he was sort of the official aide to the Nizam of my domicile state and hence a very powerful and busy man. So busy in fact, that my grandfather did not go himself to get his son admitted in the local school. Perks of being a powerful man, I guess. So when it came to his date of birth, my father was randomly assigned one by the registrar. That's where the story starts...

My father was the third of ten children my grandparents had. Eleven actually, considering one of my pishis died of malnutrition before she could learn to speak.My grandfather was an honest and upright man. So honest, in fact that when famine hit our state during the emergency, he chose the state over his family when it came to food grains. I recently came to know of this incident and how it changed him to see his sister die for want of proper food. Last time I was home, I remember how I did not like the poha Ma made and threw it away. If I only knew then...

I remember this one time getting upset with my father because he could not get the cake of my choice for my 6th birthday. Now I wish I could read his mind at that precise moment. Also, I remember his siblings coming to him for help-monetary or otherwise. I don't remember anyone remotely remembering to wish him for every year that passed. During my teens, I remember his anger, his frustration with his son's wayward lifestyle. I remember being scared, upset of him. I remember expressing my frustration at his lack of sentiments for his son.I remember hiding behind my mother, when he came home, and giving him the silent treatment; my revenge for his anger at what his son had become.  

I don't remember the exact moment we became friends. I don't remember thanking him for having my back when I had my first heartbreak or when I lost my grades in college. I don't remember the first time he got me books for my birthday while everybody else gifted toys. I don't remember thanking him for introducing me to this crazy love for reading that I carry with me today. I don't remember him complaining about power cuts or food or clothes. I don't remember him talking about his past, or his job or his likes, dislikes. 

Ever had a moment of epiphany when you wished you could turn back time and unsay the things you said. Undo things you did. I'm sure you have. Because of the random birth date and year, my father had to retire 8 years before he actually turned 60. We got to know of his actual birth year through a dusty old crumpled document that was lost with my thakur ma's belongings only after his farewell. Before his son graduated. While most of his siblings were still dependent on him. And all this because of one stupid date that decided the next 60 years of his life. 

I don't celebrate his birthday because it reminds me of my grandfather's benign mistake and how it changed my father's life. The only time I remember seeing his eyes moisten was when he came home after his farewell. I knew they were not tears of joy. His "birthday" reminds me of all his years of silence while he suffered for a mistake he did not commit.

Baba, if there is a remote chance you are reading this, I just want to confess I hate thakur dadu for doing this to you. I wish he had paid more attention while his son was living on one meal a day, leading to a lifetime of acute migraine and hypertension. I wish he could see you in his last moments, before he left you with an ailing mother and 8 mouths to feed. I wish, I wish the two of you had more time together. I wish you had the opportunity to  live the teenage life that you gave me. More than anything else, I wish I could take away the sadness you hide behind your eyes every time you smile. 

I know the pride you felt when I spoke to you of my promotion. I know how happy you were that your son was no longer an underachiever. And I owe it to you, more than Ma. You are the rock that stood behind me, every time I faced a storm in my personal and professional life. All my worries, all my fears still wash away with the smell of your aftershave when you hug me. (By the way, I still use the same brand that you did!)

I don't want to celebrate my father's birthday. I want to celebrate his life, his persona, his amazing resilience towards everything that life threw at him. If I'm half the man he is when I'm at his age, I'll consider myself lucky. 

Here's to you, Baba. My first and only hero! God Bless You!!

Why Dhoni cannot be a role model for India!

Yes Times Now, you got it right when you said we deserved to lose in Sydney with that shameless display of captaincy!! Forget about disappointing 1.2 bn folks back home, ending your innings with a smile and a handshake with the Australian captain was a shocker! I hate it when I see people around me screaming out his name every time the Indian team came out on the field. Seems there is no looking beyond this "ice cold", "dispassionate" captain of a team that lives and breathes on the emotions of its massive populace. 

Why, you ask me? Why am I venting out at the most successful captain the Indian cricket team has had till date? For one, MS Dhoni is not Indian at all!!!

How can it be okay to stay calm under pressure? I mean, we come from a society where a slight nick of our car with another leads to a free for all, public beatdown on the roads. Where kids are given grief for life if they still choose sports over education. Where you have failed as a husband or father if you refuse to see your child over duty to your country. Where the captain of the most popular sport in India consistently goes ahead and praises the team in the face of his own individual achievements. Why is he not publicity hungry? Is he not a celebrity? Can he not star in an episode of Big Boss, Comedy Nights or Dance India Dance? What is with this constant focus on discipline????

I aspire to see normal Indian behavior on and off the field from the Indian Cricket Team. We must blame our wife/girlfriend for our failure and not stand by them. We must look for the limelight in every step we take! We need to remember our team performance is inspired by 'Mauka Mauka' ads and not our training. We must sledge, scream and shout out obscenities to the opposing team whether we win or lose. 

And more so from MSD than anyone else. You come from a small town called Ranchi, to a superstar status for the last 9 years or so. And yet, this humility? You do not have forever, Dhoni. Professional sport has a retirement age and you stand at 33 today, father to a girl you saw 4 months after she was born. Where were your sanskaars when you put your country above your family? Someone else could have taken care of business right? Shame on you..

NO!!! Shame on you, Mr. Goswami! You the elitist, pseudo journalist types with as much knowledge of cricket and life as a cockroach would. All you understand is sensationalizing nonsensical trends and focusing on your channels TRPs. What you did last week was the turning point in your channel's fortunes. We as a nation, just moved from indifference to pure hatred when you ridiculed our team and most importantly, our captain! Yes you idiot, he is the same guy who brought us success in all 3 tournaments-Twenty 20, Champions Trophy and CWC 2011. I wish I could pray you had his temperament, but you unfortunately, epitomize everything that's wrong with us. 

Dhoni can never be a role model for people who trash Anushka for Virat's performance or pass along memes of Sehwag and Yuvraj trolling MSD and co. His perseverance and almost monk like temperament is what India needs, but maybe not what we deserve. The greatest cricketer of our time, Sachin Tendulkar, claimed in an interview he cannot imagine being captained by anyone else. This is a man who has seen more than two decades of the game, from Kapil Dev to Saurav Ganguly- both good captains in their own right. 

For the first time in our cricketing history, the team is bigger than its stars. Individual brilliance is seen as second to team performance. The dressing room is passionate, but not egoistic. Players give their everything on the field, without caring about their personal injuries or nakhras. And all this, driven by one man. 

Dhoni, you can never be replicated. There will never be another like you!  

Disclaimer: I am not a die-hard cricket fan.But the past one week of media bashing forces us to defend not just the sport, but the men behind it. 

Cheers!

Letter to Myself!

I was going through some of my older emails today when I came across an email sent to myself, dated Sep, 2013. The letter was intended for me to read it exactly one year later.. Now, I must admit I've done some dumb stuff  in my life, but this definitely didn't look like a mistake to me. As I went through the almost 2 page long mailer (By now, I'm sure you understand I love writing long letters), a plethora of emotions rang circles in my head.

Before I give my two cents on this, I want you to go through some excerpts from that fateful letter...

"...I know by this time, you would have found a lot more meaning and purpose in your life. Stay with the flow, have faith in your leader and remain self-assured. You were selected for a purpose, a heady mix of competence and learnability is what got you here, and will continue to help you move ahead..."

"...When we are young, it is easy to identify heroes from villains. As you grow older (and hopefully, wiser), the lines will get blurred. You will experience life moving with you in shadows, always a shade of grey-never black or white. Adapt, learn and take it in your stride. Your greatest strength lies in self-assurance, never lose sight of that trait. Never lose sight of people who inspire you to respect yourself first, and then those around you. They will be your biggest critics and your only true compatriots.."

"...Hopefully, when you are reading this, you will have already experienced your first trip abroad. A vacation may mean a week off all human contact, but I know you will make the most of it. You will have met new people, talked to absolute strangers, listened to their stories, and hopefully kicked some items off your bucket list..."

"...Your work is not just a job to you, its an extension of your persona. It will offer you freedom to do things few peers might have even thought of doing by the time they are 29. Enjoy your moments... You've earned every second of it..."

"...Not that you would have become a better son/partner/friend  by this time (I know you way too well), I would only expect that you "be there" for your family, your partner, in short anyone who holds you dear (I do hope there are some still crazy enough to do that) and matters. Never let go, even if they do. They still need you, even if they express otherwise..."

"...I know you have this lifetime intimacy with your first love, depression. It comforts you, puts an invisible hand on your shoulder when you need it most. Eventually, it will kill you. That is exactly what it is. It will take away all that you hold dear to yourself, under the guise of self-pity. It will one day make your near and dear ones walk away from you, perhaps forever. Try and express what you are really going through a lot more. See, the more you internalize, the more you let people around you feel you don't trust them. And if all this is too much for you, I pray you garner sufficient strength to walk alone..."

"...I don't know why, but I have this intuition- you will go through a period of heartache and misery-in short, you might have hit rock bottom at some time. Take responsibility and move on, in the face of all that anger and pain you normally experience. You've had this cycle of ups and downs since college, then arising out of a sudden sense of loneliness. Honestly, I have no solution to this (you do realise, I am you!). Hang on, and hope for the tide to pass..." 

"... Not that you won't know this already, but there are a lot of people waiting for that one phone call from your end to tell them you remember them every day and still care. If you've not had the good sense to connect with them already, its not too late. I'm sure a lot of them will have moved on and would have expected you to do the same as well. Which is exactly why you need to let them know you haven't. I know you've changed as well, and have now become accustomed to a lifestyle that requires tons of personal space. Nevertheless, friends don't change, at least the genuine ones don't. You will never know if you don't get out there again..."

During his commence speech at Stanford 2005, Steve Jobs made a statement that will last me a lifetime. He said "...Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something — your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life..."

I felt an eerie sense of deja vu as I went through the letter, word by word. Those of you who've seen me in the last 12 months would know that all of the above rang true in some sense or another for me and those around me. Although in hindsight, I must admit I am in love with this concept now. So here's a promise to my future self.. I will write another letter (hopefully not as long) and this time set some clear goals that I intend to see to completion. And hopefully, I will read it in happier times.

Till then, I will leave you to your thoughts...

Kapish.

Nice Guys Finish Last

There... I said it!!

Damn all you moral science books and hymns, damn all your religious discourses and "path of righteousness" followers!! Admit it, nice guys are no longer needed, let alone admired in today's time and age. When was the last time we appreciated gullibility, naivety and a general endeavor to smile for no reason?

Surprised, are we? Yes, I am angry. But not just for me. This is for all average/mediocre/face-in-the-crowd/gullible/simpletons all around us. They exist, yet remain non-existent-for the alphas, the mavericks, the young turks, rising stars, over-achievers... you name it! After all, it is them who define the way society shall move forward, it is them who shape the destiny of a team, town, company or a nation. These individuals don't associate themselves with traits like modesty/mediocrity/humility and why should they? They pride themselves on goal-orientation, foresight, business acumen, being thinktanks to keep them ahead of the curve. 

So then, why do we need the second kind-the accountant who slogs in a dreary job to get his daughter a good education (not just make her literate), the housewife who toils day in and out to ensure her family stays together, the teenager whose idea of a Friday night is listening to his grandparents/parents talk about their lives and how they made their marriage more than just a wedding, the husband who respects his wife and never shouts/hits her so his son learns to respect women, the college undergraduate who says yes to education and no to drugs or the mother who teaches her daughter the importance of self-respect before she has to fight for it in a court?

Simple. We need nice human beings because they are the epitome of all that is humane-compassion, endeavor, tenacity, gullibility and yes, mediocrity.. Because unfortunately, as a species, we focus both our eyes in the same direction, up (growth-monetary/intellectual/social) or around (family/friends/strangers/society/nation). Anything otherwise is considered unnatural or non-progressive. 

And while all our lives, as a student, son or a professional, we were taught the all important lesson of being tactful, strategic and assertive, we cannot and do not want to let go of who we are. Our likes/dislikes, goals, even fears are what make our "self" complete. Sacrifices are remembered only by those who did it, not by those they did it for... The average nice-guy is no different.

And I agree, who does not want to be the leader of the pack? God planned for us to be at the top of the food chain for a reason. But isn't it the same higher power that gave us the ability to emote, express and act on other's emotions? Somehow, as I silently observe around me, we seem to have devalued our primal need to be humane and replaced it with apathetic traits. 

But not all is lost. Nice people do exist-somewhere among us, in the crowd, by the door, in the cubicle next to you. And they do not come all gift-wrapped in glitter but wear a pale blue dress shirt and pants and a 4 year old Titan watch. And when all around you seems lost, they look up and give you that heart-warming smile that suddenly makes everything seem ok. True, when you ride the wave of success, you need not know who they are or even acknowledge their presence.  But maybe, maybe they don't need it anymore than you do.

Nice guys are irrelevant at best, a nuisance at worst. They seem to make great followers, pleasant peers and are generally accommodating partners lacking fire. But let me ask you this, who would you rather have around-a farsighted alpha male whose understanding of his goals is far greater than his partner's day in office, a drop-dead good looking MCP who subjects his wife to mental rape while coming across as the perfect mate, or a non-descript "nice-guy" partner with the looks of a pauper and the large-heartedness of a king. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, love it or hate it, "nice" is the new exceptional!

Peace.

Mumbai To Manila (Week 4)

Week 4 and I just had an inflexion point in my stay here!

What can I say... There is just tons to write about but very few words to express them. In fact, if I had to summarise this week, specifically the weekend for me, it was "surreal". Here's why...

The week was pretty much a continuance of the last one. We had a busy schedule and lots done in the matter of 5 days. Made steady progress in what I intend to achieve, had some road blocks, turned them into stepping stones and walked on...

Weekend was actually the result of a dopey idea by my team member here. He asked me if I wanted to join him and the team for a trip to San Juan, his native village and an island paradise... Of course, I said yes! 

We started a little late than usual with yours truly staying awake (big surprise) till 6 in the morning and dozing off like a log after that. It wouldn't be a problem usually except that team arrived at my hotel by 7 a.m. literally waking me up.. So 30 mins later, we started off on what was to be a lifetime memory. 

The drive was peaceful, maybe because I could not understand a word of what was going on behind me (haha, not funny :)) What I did get to see was a new side to each member of my team. They laughed, joked, had those little idiosyncrasies that makes us all human... In spite of not understanding the language, I learnt it is inherent in the human spirit to understand emotions. 

We made a short stop at a drive-thru for breakfast and three hours later, we entered the beautiful town of San Juan. What amazed was how similar the place was to colonial parts of Mumbai and Goa. I guess the whites screwed us and beatified our cities pretty much the same way. First stop... San Juan church, a 300 year old masterpiece preserved in time. 

There was a wedding going on in the chapel, a traditional Catholic one. While the bride looks visibly beamish, the groom looked petrified. Love speaks a common language after all! :)

Also had traditional Pinoy ice-cream by the chapel... 

Anyway, we started for the beach albeit a few stops. My team mate Val tells me everybody knows each other here.. which would also explain his multiple pit-stops before we reach our destination (Val, if you're reading this I was just amused, the others were upset) 

So there it was.. the beautiful beach of San Juan, ladies and gentlemen. All I can tell you is the picture posted are not wallpapers but real live experiences captured in film and memory. 

Traditional Nipa Huts

Our resort

That is the look of absolute bliss

Once we were settled in, and enough picture were taken in the initial maddening moments, it was time for lunch. The team cooked up fried fish, fresh catch and an eggplant dish (not very different from baingan ka bharta, except this one had lemon, salt and onions) with rice. I'm sure you've experienced this yourself but food becomes two times more delicious once you have it by the beach with San Miguel pint in your hand. Bliss......

Post lunch, the team split into sleepers and avid karaoke fans. I never mentioned this before but Pinoys love karaoke. It is literally as close to heart as antakshri is to us. Also, more beers and some card games (which I barely understood) later, we were all off for a walk by the beach to a river nearby. As the evening dawned, the mountains next to the beach became all the more picturesque with clouds descending gradually over the top. 

Aftermath of Typhoon Glenda

Serenity

Breathtaking view of the mountains

Fishermen coming back for the day

Rescued a stranded starfish

The rest of the evening was spent trying to learn the damn card game (By the way, I won! Yayy!!) and more booze along with a siesta that lasted all of 8 hours.... Had to wake up bright and early for the most exciting part of the trip. 

The next day started off with a healthy breakfast of tuna, eggs and rice. Once we were freshened up, we headed out to the beach for a trip to the other side of the island. This part of San Juan is pristine and unexplored, full of corals and marine life. I am no water baby but I'd be stupid if I didn't sign up for this! So we headed off on a local boat fresh and excited. The ride was bumpy, with sea-spraying all over our life-vests and boy was that an experience!  

We were there 15 mins later on the other side, with coral rocks covering a beautiful landscape of forests, azure blue water (crystal clear) and a scintillating view of the coastline. You have to see it to believe it...

I was to believe this to be the highlight of the day... But hold on, someone had a dopey idea of feeding fish as well in the middle of the ocean! So I'm sitting in the boat thinking, okay that should be fun.. I'll just take out my camera and click a couple of snaps while we threw some bread crumbs overboard. Boy, was I mistaken! :)

So we head out to the sea again and suddenly stop. Suddenly the boatman starts anchoring in the middle of nowhere and takes out snorkels!!! Snorkels!! We were going into the sea to feed the fish!!! The others quickly jumped in without a moment's hesitation while I was pondering over all this. And suddenly, the call to jump..!

My first thought- If I drown today, I'm 5000 miles away from my homeland and don't intend to die here! :) Quickly, curiosity took over and 5 mins later.. Splash!!!! Just me, the life vest, snorkels and the ocean! The first 10 seconds were well, to put it mildly, scary.....

I couldn't even get back into the boat coz my "friend" asked me to jump on the other side of the ladder (Val, you and me are having a serious discussion tomorrow!) So I had to let go of the only support I had (a rope) and try and paddle to the other side. Things became slightly easier once I knew the ladder was in sight...

Disclaimer: Before you label me a sissy, try jumping into 50 feet of sea water in a foreign land without any swimming experience whatsoever, suckers!!

5 minutes into this, and I became calmer and looked down. Whoa, there it was.. schools of fish between my feet and a beautiful coral reef to complete the almost-perfect mental picture. I could see all kinds of fish, and for the first time in my life, understood first hand the serenity of the sea. And all this with people still splashing around! The snorkels made it so much more easier to see what was going on beneath me without the need to come back for air. 

For all of you who never tried jumping off a boat in the middle of the sea, it is exactly as crazy as it sounds. But, that first moment of peace and being one with the ocean is a lifetime memory. It literally takes away all your pain and stress with just one thing on your mind... tranquility! 

If you ever get an opportunity, I urge you to try it out for yourself and find out what I just discovered. We only have one life, and I just ticked one item off my bucket list! :):)

The seemingly enthused team 

Val, our tour guide and compatriot

One item off my bucket list

I never wanted to come out of the ocean, but for the team and the boatman... Okay okay, I have to admit I was a little skittish. But this experience was worth every scared breaths in those memorable 15 minutes. I swear, I will go snorkeling again and again and again..... 

After we got on to the boat, we quickly came back to the shore and freshened up. Had a quick meal and then started off for the long ride back home. On the way, stopped for some souvenir shopping and came back to my hotel by 5 in the evening. Had a hearty Indian meal after two days of Pinoy delicacies. 

Jeera Rice, Kadai Paneer, Dal Tadka and Raita :)

As I lie in my bed reminiscing the day gone by, I can't help but think of all the things I have aspired to do in my life and how much I have yet to see and experience. Hopefully, the week ahead is going to be as beautiful as the weekend. 

With these thoughts, that's fourth week in sunny Philippines for you. If you don't have a bucket list yet, please make one and ensure you tick off all items on that list before you kick the proverbial bucket.

Peace.

Mumbai to Manila (Week 3)

Week 3 and Counting!!

This one's been an overwhelming week in every sense of the word. From natural disasters to personal nightmares, this week was almost a typical Bollywood movie.. action, comedy, thrill, melancholy, plot twists and a happy ending...!

After my noctural misadventure in Burgos last week, I decided to play this one safe. God obviously had other plans. The week started with the oncoming of this season's biggest typhoon so far (Rammasun/Glenda) all the way from Monday evening till Thursday morning. At a Category 3, it took a toll of 20 unfortunate human lives across the Metro Manila area and destroyed several parts of this beautiful city that I have come to love. 

My personal experience with the typhoon was a little disturbing as well. Coming back from office on Monday, I was unable to sleep with strong winds and rainfall lashing down on the windows of my hotel room on the 16th floor. It was almost comic, as if God wanted to play angry birds with me... (Ok, no more jokes I promise).

So I wake up after a groggy night and see the overcast cloud strewn across the Manila skyline as far as I could see. 

Got news that the storm was still 25 km away from the mainland. Yet to read about it and see it are two different things altogether. There was literally no traffic as I looked down while getting ready for office. That was the time the hotel staff called and sounded me off on a severe storm warning and requested that I stay back. I complied of course. Of all the things that I expected would blow my senses away when I landed here, the last thing on my list was a sea-storm! Tuesday and Wednesday went by like a breeze, (literally) working from the hotel amid power cuts and no internet for intermittent periods.

(Disclaimer: I am not a sucker for the internet. So before you judge me on being a spoilt brat, all I wanted was a constant connection with the office)

What surprised and shocked me when I reached office on Thursday was the spirit of the average Filipino. There were in fact 900 team members who stayed back in the office during the storm and not a single soul looked tired, depressed or melancholic. It just goes on to speak a million things about the brevity of the human soul in times of calamity. Some of their houses blown away, families alone and yet they responded to my hello with a cheerful smile. Why would you not want to love this place and the people?

Uprooted tree on a parking lot by the bay

My super team stayed back as well and helped in all that they could to ensure the employees were cared for and motivated. In hindsight, it makes me feel like a coward and I promised myself to never let this happen again!

Once the storm was over outside, some professional calamities were waiting to happen. Without delving into too many details, lets just say the team ensured we achieved our targets before the said deadline and in my mind, they are all stars!! Stayed back all through Friday to lead the team targets and ensure they stayed motivated. Saw a beautiful dawn by the Manila bay for the first time since I came here, sipping coffee and eating a slice of pandesal (local bread) as I saw life go on as usual in this melting pot of several cultures. 

Group of bicycle enthusiasts up and early!

Saturday morning  by the bay (tree still there)  

Speaking of a melting pot, my team tells me Philippines is essentially divided into two different cultures by region. The southern part of the archipelago is a Muslim dominated region with Ramadan celebrated with great fervor. The middle and northern parts comprise mainly of Catholics and native Austroaseans with Christmas and the Feast season being the most widely celebrated holiday. In fact, quite like India, the Philippines is a very tolerant and secular country to be in. In every sense of the word, this place is the "melting pot" of Asia. 

Coming back to the rest of my week, well Saturday was dull considering I slept it out till the last quarter of the day. Woke up and talked to my cousin for a really long time. Its been ages since we connected and I plead guilty on all accounts. I feel really small considering it took me a trip away from my country for me connect with those already there. If you are reading this Tani, I am really sorry and promise to be your brother, cousin and companion always! Thank you for taking the effort to ensure I do not lose touch with my past. 

Wife and me had a long conversation after ages it seemed. We talked about everything as if we hadn't spoked at all in all this time. It feels so good to see you smile and laugh at my silly, stupid jokes that you would avoid like a plague when I am with you. (Revenge! Wicked Laugh) You are in every sense of the word, my partner-in-crime and my friend. Now, when do I expect the cheque you were to deposit, to clear.. :)

Sunday was modest and more introspective this time around. Had a quiet breakfast, sent out my laundry, took stock of my bills (pain-in-the-......) and went for a walk by the neighbourhood. Checked out some malls in the area and came across the Flash!! :)

Almost as fast as him!

Justice League of Manila (Batman seems upset!)

Now the introspective part....I cannot believe its been 3 weeks since I haven't seen a familiar face.... A sense of nostalgia did creep in around the first half of the day. I have this dilemma of dichotomy playing in my head- a sense of adventure of discovering a new place, meeting new people, trying out cuisines I never had.. or a sense of misery of not seeing family, friends, my country, my people around. Is this what the Indian diaspora go through.......?

I will never know!! 

Coz by the time I could conjure these thoughts in my brain, I was hungry and needed some grub. So how do you resolve the dichotomy of nostalgia vs adventure you ask? Simple. Order Indian food delivered by a Hispanic in a Filipino hotel. I'll tell you the biggest conflicts in this world can be resolved with a delicious meal of Bhuna Gosht and Chapatis... After a week of Korean, Japanese, Cantonese and Filipino fillings (they are not "Chinese food "; indeed very different cuisines just for the record), I had my share of India on my plate.

Something magical about onions and green chutney with gosht

That in many ways, sums up Week 3 for moi. Keeping my chin up for the days to come, and hope to continue riding the storm (literally, another typhoon hitting us in 2 days). Its 2 a.m. on a Monday morning and I intend to get to office early today. So stay safe, pray for the people of Philippines and some for myself. See you all next week.

Peace.