The Land of Tea

Enthusiasm and energy are so infectious, I pondered, amidst conversation with the General Manager, District Industry & Commerce Center (DICC). People with such tremendous zeal are an asset which we rarely acknowledge. We were talking about the need for better branding of the local tea and the conspicuous absence of confidence. He was confident of the global image of Assam Tea but was puzzled by the parochial underestimations. And to assert his contention, he narrated a tale from his past. 

He once went to Germany with his senior colleagues for the promotion of Indian tea at some Industrial Conclave. After tasting the exquisite flavors on offer when a person asked where the tea was grown, he promptly replied "Assam", unable to camouflage his pride. His senior nudged him and whispered "Say, India. They won't be knowing Assam".

Perhaps the whispers were loud enough to qualify as voices and the German replied, "Of course I know Assam. The land of Tea!"

Shades of Lachit Borphukan

Today Assam celebrates the birth anniversary of Lachit Borphukan, a celebrated military commander of the Assamese forces who defeated the crouching armies of the Mughals in the Battle of Saraighat. Today we remember his heroism and celebrate the spirit of patriotism. After paying tribute to his statue, one of the staff members was asked to say a few words on this occasion. His words are still resounding in my head provoking me to share it further. 

He said, "I would not tell you the story of Lachit Borphukon. You all know it or so I assume. But today we need that similar resolve, that similar aggressiveness and that similar heroism, to fight another enemy. The Mughals are long gone, the enemy today is Corruption, Procrastination and Bureaucratic Apathy. We all have little shades of Lachit Borphukan in us, lets bring them out, for good!"

सफर खूबसूरत है

हर सुबह जब सूरज की वो पहली किरणे अंधकार को चीरती हुई प्रतीत होती है और पुरे आकाश पर जब सूरज की लालिमा टिमटिमा रही होती है तो मन करता है की बस इस खूबसूरती को निहारता रहू। और जब आप इस बेहतरीन नज़ारे को ब्रह्मपुत्र पर पढ़ रहे प्रतिबिंब के रूप में अपने कक्ष की खिड़की से देख सके, तो उसकी बात ही अलग है।

सूरज की इस अद्वितीय शालीनता पर चार चाँद लगा रही थी वो धीरे धीरे चल रही ठंडी हवाएँ। और बस, साईकल उठाई और निकल पड़े हम कुछ अन्जान रास्तो पर। काफ़ी देर बाद विपरीत दिशा से आ रहे एक साईकल चालक ने पूछा , "कहाँ चले?" तब ध्यान आया की मंजिल के बारे में तो सोचा भी नहीं। सफर के नशे में इस तरह मदहोश हुए की दिशा को भी बेदखल कर दिया। और फिर हॉल ही मे सुने एक गीत के बोल समक्ष आए। 

सफर खूबसूरत है, मंजिल से भी !

Super Moon

There I lay, beside the highway, behind my bicycle, in those endless paddy fields, looking at the horizon with the dusk knocking at the door. As the mighty Sun called it a day, I unwillingly got up and faced the prospect of cycling back 25 Kms to Tezpur. Boy, I could use some motivation, I pondered.

Suddenly, my eyes fell upon that gorgeous and glittering Moon. And it's light starting to turn the yellowish green meadows into a different landscape. It felt closer, more than the usual. And then I remembered reading something to that effect. I hopped on my bicycle as if some hound had smelled a prey. As I cycled towards Tezpur, it occurred bigger and closer. I pedaled with such tenacity as if I stood a chance to embrace her. 

And in no time, or so it felt, I was home. And she was still that far, or so it felt. I do not know why I love the Moon so much. Perhaps because it is that shining beacon of hope in that darkness. Perhaps because it reminds me of those I love. Or perhaps because not all things can be reasoned or understood. Perhaps its just Super. Super Moon!

They have a soul

This Diwali, we were in Meghalaya for District Attachment. Among the several initiative by the administration, one that holds the key is the Basin Development which focuses on creating entrepreneurs and skill development. In the process we came across many success stories. They were producing lamps, candles and other handicraft items.

We thought it would be a good idea to buy their products and send them as gifts to our relatives and friends. Of course, the intention being to help them somehow. But on that festive night, when my mother sent me a picture of those hand made lamps and candles, something occurred to me. 

Yes, those were pretty beautiful. Maybe not as sophisticated and complex as created by mass manufactures and big industries. But still pretty damn beautiful. And the beauty is perhaps not in the aesthetics. They are much more than just commodities. Looking at them all bright and gorgeous, I recalled the smile of their maker who is now proud to earn bread for his family. I recalled the happiness with which he told me that now he can afford education for his children.

And ergo, I feel, and thou shall concur, these are no ordinary artifacts.They have a story, to tell. They, have a soul, of their own!

Jaago

So, the other day, we got lucky to listen to Farhan Akhtar live in Weekender Concert which is going on in Meghalaya which has a great culture of music and you would be surprised to see the talent here. Untapped, Unheard and unprecedented.

It was a great setup too. The lush green meadows of the state, the early winter fog and the flush of music lovers. But there are always some people who spoil it all. Those pseudo music lovers who breech into such crowds to grope women. Those ogling monsters who wish to exploit the darkness.

Perhaps they had forgotten that it was "music" that they came here to enjoy. Perhaps they should get a moral upgrade before the next time they go to such place. Perhaps they can learn something from that Farhan song and stop objectifying women.

Wake up, from that archaic evil. Wake up, from that historic injustice. Wake up and stop treating women like that. Jaago!

The Sound of Silence

To the extent of my vision, I could only see the lush green forests of Khasi Hills. I could only see small hillocks surrounding me. I could only see the milky waterfalls of Mystical Meghalaya. I could only see the enticing blue waters of the streams. And meanwhile we were halfway in our trek to the Root Bridge, someone innocently asked, "Shall I play some music?".

For a moment, I couldn't understand the question. Wasn't some music already on? I was sure, I heard it. I could hear the sound made by the rapids. I could hear the birds and insects chirping. I could hear the elastic melody of the swing bridges. I could hear, I did hear, the sound of silence!

Where there is will

Once upon a time, there lived a farmer with great ambitions in a small village of Meghalaya. He wanted to grow Pineapples & Lemons but he was landless and had no money to buy a suitable plot. But instead of giving up, he innovated his way out of it.

On a vacant rocky patch of land, he created some pockets or heaps of compost and planted seeds in then. For lemons he used banana leafs surrounded by compost which provided enough water for the seeds to survive. The idea worked and gave him a viable source of livelihood. 

But this is not just about the cute little innovation he did there. This is about not accepting defeat. This is about perseverance. This is about having an unshakable will. And where there is a will, there are Pineapples!

The joy of defeat

Highways are the best when you feel like taking a break from the routine. And ergo, there I was on my bicycle, speeding my way to nowhere. That old classic again, it's the journey we enjoy, not the destination.

Suddenly a teenage boy came from behind in his bicycle which seemed to be really old. Perhaps his grandfather rode it too. A family legacy. Perhaps he was returning home from his work site all covered in dirt.

He kept on looking at the gear system of my bicycle. Then he gave me that look, as if challenging me into a race. I sportingly accepted and shifted to upper gears. He fought back hard. He was putting everything into it. We were level again. And then i realised what it would mean to him. Sport for me, pride for him. I let him go ahead. He looked back and smiled. I gave him a thumbs up. We both experienced joy. He, the joy of victory, and I, the joy of defeat.

The Beauty and The Bliss

It was a long day and the heat had been cruel. Almost as if the Sun was a tad bit closer. But the dusk seemed kind as it had the august company of the clouds. Ah, that smell again, it must have rained in the mountains. And you could almost hear the rains descending upon the town. And there they were melodiously embracing us. I said to my driver, "These rains, such a beauty. Don't you think?"

And his reply was as deep and musical as the rain itself. "The summer here is terrible. The humidity is cruel. Water coolers do not work at all. Air conditioners we can't afford. The fans won't run either with electricity playing hide and seek. It's only when it rains that we have pleasant weather at night. It's only when it rains, that we get a good sleep. For me, these rains are a bliss rather, don't you think?"

It is a concert

Those who follow football regularly or those who occasionally turn to Football during the World Cup, would appreciate more the fact that I am putting across here. The England Football team, if you look closely, has extremely talented individual players who have proved their mettle earlier. But when they come to play for the national team, the result is often more than disappointing. It is not a one man show. It is a team-effort. It is a synergy-based showdown. 

Today we had an Office Inspection and the concluding remarks of the Inspecting Officer reminded me of this football analogy. He said, "You, as the Head of the Office may be motivated and putting up 20 hrs everyday but if you cannot get your staff/team to put in their best, if you cannot generate that synergy, then all this is of no use."

"It is not a one woman/man show. It is a team effort. It is a synergy-based showdown. It is a Concert."

The Colors of life

Like every other city, Tezpur also had these blank, dull and patchy stretches of boundary walls located in the heart of the city. And given their status, they would have been sooner or later transformed into urinals or garbage dumping spots.

We recently arranged for this Wall painting event where many local students participated and completely transformed these walls. To understand the impact made, I asked one of the vendors who operates in that locality. And I think, I don't even need to rephrase his reaction.

He said, "Earlier people used to litter around and urinate, but now they stop and admire these beautiful paintings. They don't litter here anymore. They don't want to ruin the hard work of kids. These walls now bring smiles on faces. These aren't just any colours, they are, the Colours of Joy!"

Against the dying of the hair

This phase of life, when you start to find a lot of grey hair on your head, is difficult, I tell you. Especially when you are not even married. Especially when your Mother in her sixties still has like only a couple of white stands. You avoid looking at the mirror. You try to pluck them out but soon they overwhelm you.

Today though, I gathered some courage to glance over them. And they pushed me into this thought chain. How fast time has passed. There was so much to be achieved by now. There still is. And the time is not going to slow down. We must get our acts together and rage. I guess I will keep them this way. They remind me of these powerful lines by Dylan Thomas. 

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Rage, rage against the dying of the hair.

Not without you

To promote the idea of Cleanliness and Personal health, we organized a Clean Tezpur Run on the eve of Independence Day. I am glad to share that more than 800 people participated in the run and thus pledged to promote cleanliness in the City. Like every other run, we had made provisions of Water stations at several points in the route. These stations were also provided with boxes to be used as dustbins.

In spite of the cleanliness fervor in air and the arrangements made, few participants littered the road, a chain reaction resulted and the rest need not be mentioned. This highlights the quintessential nature of Citizen's role in Good Governance. Logistics may be provided for, but your cooperation is indispensable. Take a moment and think about how important your part is.

Realization of Good Governance? Not without your activism.
Success of Welfare initiatives? Not without your volunteerism.
Improvement in present systems? Not without your feedback
And achieving the dream Clean Tezpur? Not without you!

This is where I belong

Years ago when I was working with Deloitte, some of my immediate seniors were soon to fly abroad to work for a fairly large period and with the possibility of settling there itself. The high standard of living, better opportunities and other perks were put on the table during our candid discussion. But when my turn came, expressing my disinterest to go out of India. I simply gave them this one phrase.

The other day, I was talking to this person who had to abandon his village as it is located in the low lying region and was flooded entirely. He along with his village folk had taken shelter in this relief camp. When the water receded, he was so eager to go back. When I asked him why not get relocated to some high lands, he gave that same phrase. 

This is where I was born. This is where I took my first steps. This is where I grew up. This is where I would like to be buried.

"This is where I belong!"

No no, not bureaucrat

Whenever people use the word "Bureaucrat" in their messages, it reminds me of a recent article where a Public Servant made an appeal for abolishing the use of the word "Babu" for government officials. I say the word "Bureaucrat" is no less an accusation. Now, on this note, some people might throw some Shakespearean philosophy at me and say,"What's in a name". Believe you me, there is lots in a name.

Sometime back in Chandigarh, they had a scheme for relocating the slum population which was titled "Slum Rehabilitation". No one wanted to be part of it as it carried the "Slum" stigma with it. Later it was rechristened as "Small Flat Owners Scheme" which evoked a much larger response. Just to put across the point.

The words in contention, "Bureaucracy or Bureaucrat" have flown from the Weberian idea of a hierarchical, rigid and iron-curtained organization. But this is not what I see when I look at the present generation of young, energetic and determined government officials. I see things in trance, for the better. Yes, may be at snail's pace, but at least we have moved past Status Quoism. So, may be a Civil Servant, or Public Servant, but no no, not bureaucrat!

The Torchbearers

Everyone is gifted in one way or the other. Sometimes one discovers on his/her own, sometimes one needs someone to show the light. In Tezpur, under the aegis of SSA and RMSA, special Remedial Classes and Career Counselling Sessions were organized through out the duration of the summer break where some of the Teachers volunteered during their holidays to help out students. On this auspicious occasion of Guru Poornima, I express my gratitude to all these Teachers who contributed. Lets hear it, for the Torchbearers!

Legend of Tezpur

Tezpur literally means " the City of blood" courtesy this legend. It says that Banasura, the Asura king of ancient Tezpur had a daughter who fell in love with the grandson of Lord Krishna. When Banasura came to know about this clandestine romance, he imprisoned her lover. And what followed was a ugly war and bloodshed.

But sometimes, the legends can be so different from what we see today. This is rather a place where the virtues of love and compassion are in abundance. People in love with people, people in love with nature. So much so that they all seem to be con sanguine. That way, it is a city of blood. That should as per me, allow me this historical sacrilege, be the new legend of Tezpur!

Eternal Rains

Remember those childhood days, when we spent most of the time loitering around the play grounds and looking at the sky hoping that the elusive rains would come down upon us. Every once in while the almighty did listen. And when it rained, I always wanted it to not stop. Like Ever. That cold embrace and those dusty fragrances made me feel so good.

And now here I am in Assam and with me are those forever desired eternal rains!

Let there be light

As the plane made the last descent to make the touchdown to Guwahati, it was already dark. I leaned towards the window to get a glimpse of the City Lights. Usually you get to see vast expanses of twinkling white and yellow lights forming a never-ending matrix. But this was rather dull with sparsely lit terrains. At the very first glance over the region, you are shaken by the historic apathy and neglect.

Hope the winds do change for the good. Hope someday we see the North-East region rise. And like the Rest of India, this beautiful place, also lights up!

Republic Day

On the occasion of Republic Day, a skit was performed by the kids of a local school depicting the grief of those who have seen their loved ones sacrificing their lives in service of this nation.

During this extremely emotional portrayal of the Pathankot terror attack, this old man sitting next to me in the audience was literally shaking. He couldn't take it anymore. Tears rolled down. I thought I must ask him if he is okay but then he realised my concern and tried to get his composure back but his eyes gave it all away. I could see in those eyes that perhaps he had lost a son who fought bravely for the country. Or perhaps a brother. Or a friend.

No one can understand the grief such people go through. May the gods give them the strength. And may the gods give us peace and no war.

Take a bow to those who made the sacrifice. Respect. Jai Hind!

Strange colours of life!

Two year ago, I came to Mussoorie to join the ITBP Academy as Assistant Commandant. In the very first week they made us run to LBS NAA to show us where the IAS probationers are trained.

Today as I enter the gates of LBS NAA, all that came flashing back. Strange colors of life!

Independence Day

As the beautiful Indian tri-colour rolls down and then embraces the wind, I get totally soaked into these glimpses from the Freedom struggle. Saluting all those who played a part, big or small. But then there are some voices in the crowd that pull me back. "This sudden burst of patriotism once a year makes no sense!". "Where is this spirit and fervour rest of the time?", they ask angrily.

To these voices, I say, dear you, why do you think this spirit and fervour only magically appears today? It is not so. We all love our country and fellow citizens. This very spirit and fervour comes out in different ways every single day through our actions and gestures. But what is wrong in celebrating it together on one designated day. It helps to reaffirm the faith of those, who have for some uncanny reason, started to doubt it. So if you think that you not going to the flag hoisting ceremony does not change anything, think again. It does.

Once again saluting those who fought for freedom. But now it is our responsibility to take forward the struggle. 

Taking the liberty to quote my friend Hrishikesh Utpat who has wonderfully summed it up

"Here's a (seemingly) simple request - if we really mean all that we say in our Fb posts, let us do this one thing. Let us all strive to be better and more responsible citizens. Let us be mindful of those around us. Let us learn to respect women. Let us care about the way we drive in traffic. Let us care about how much water & electricity we waste. Let us not litter in the streets. Let us care about our environment. Let us learn to be tolerant and respectful of everyone. Let us be more rational."