Saturday, August 6, 2016

All Work, No Play?!

Was listening to a radio program today on Swachh Bharat, while at my Swachh Ghar (aka spring-cleaning) tasks. While it is heartening to hear of how many people are doing their best, one part was quite annoying. All speeches referred to certain officials who had not availed a day off in the entire year. Kuch toh gadbad hai! Is this our idea of commitment to work? Work like machines? Even machines need rest!
On a lighter note, I remember an incident in school. The monsoon was in full force. One morning, the downpour was pretty unrelenting. I decided to stay put at home and revise some lessons and have some fun. Turned out that the whole batch did that. Except one guy! The next day, our class teacher blasted all of us for not making it to school the previous day. And praised the lone guy who had turned up, come rain or hail (literally!). I had mixed feelings about the praise. Was it school that made him brave the rain? Or something else? Was it not accidental that he alone made it that day? Did the rest of us deserve such a harsh rebuke? Tricky, tricky!
Coming back to the officials who worked all through the year. Are they real? If they are, is it correct to put them on a pedestal? Is the concept of a good work-life balance not applicable to them? Over years, such 'committed' folks may need expensive (read foreign) vacations to recover from the burn out!!! :D

Tuesday, July 5, 2016

Interesting Conversations on the Way to Work!

[Gosh! It has been a while since I have posted any scribbles here. Recycling one of my recent Facebook posts - because it is food for thought at many levels. Will perhaps start a series of blogs on random conversations: with strangers, service providers, et al! :-)]

I overheard my cab driver asking on the phone "did he hit you?" The speaker was on, so I could hear a woman's voice from the other end. Gist of the story - she was hit, she kept quiet, and locked herself up in her room. The driver mumbled some sympathy and told her he would call her back in a few.

I was in the middle of touching my make-up - it would have sounded very arrogant or flippant or even comical to chat about such a issue then! So I waited till I was done, and then asked him if there was a problem. He waived my question with a "nothing, minor things happen in marriages." I gently stated that hitting is not a minor thing; it amounts to domestic violence. He lamented that people like me would not understand. And according to him, domestic violence is about "drinking and hitting"! Whoa! He then steered the conversation towards his wife, who he said becomes defensive when she is wrong and thus, instigates him. So he slaps her hard. She calms down. And the cycle repeats. Hmm! He hits his children once in a while when they misbehave, so that they know what fear is. Hmm! What logic!
Coming back to the woman on the phone: his sister. Spends most of her free time on Facebook, talking to strangers (read men), much to the dismay of her husband. He repeatedly warns her of the perils associated with such virtual connections. But she is hooked, and gets on to these chats the moment he steps out for work. Yesterday she had done the same thing. Chatted with a young guy from an interior city, who then sent her his pics and asked her to find him a wife. She chirped about this chat to her husband when he came back from work. And whack!

Moral of the story - Not my monkey, not my circus! :D

P.S: This post does not mean that I support either of the men here in the way they handle their situations/spouses. It is meant to be a grim reminder of the reality of our society. More on this soon.

Friday, January 29, 2016

Dream Boulevard

(This is an old write-up on my army interview experience. What an enriching and fun experience it was!)

It was way back in 1999. I was enamored with the idea of working in the Indian Army. I had applied for a specialist entry in the Women's Special Entry Scheme in January 2000 and was shortlisted for the Services Selection Board (SSB) interview to be held in December 2000. Was so excited with the news of my shortlisting that I resigned from my three-month old content writing job, only because I was not allowed a week's leave! It was my first job and happened after a long wait but I did not think twice before quitting. After all, it was the SSB in question. That the dotcom firm crumbled within a couple of months is another story!

My elder brother volunteered to escort me to the venue, Allahabad. On November 29, we arrived at the New Delhi Railway Station (NDLS). It was quite a cold and windy night. While waiting for the train to depart, we saw other girls who were headed to the same place. Got talking and made friends with a few (Reema Sobty*, Neha, Pratibha, and Pratima).

When we reached Allahabad in the wee hours of the next morning, officials informed us that the army unit bus would arrive at 13:30 hrs to take us to the army campus. I got talking to more girls, and very soon, we were a self-organized group of girls, with my brother as our guardian. We checked in at a nice hotel, washed up, had a good breakfast, and were back at the station before 13:30 hrs.

As I boarded the bus, my heartbeat raced up. I saw girls of different age groups and from different states, all preparing for the challenge ahead, in their own way. Some looked like they had been there before because it was obvious in the way they gave tips (both solicited and unsolicited) to freshers. Some others also looked like they were there before, but probably did not want to share any information ;-). Interestingly, Reema volunteered to help place our bags on the top of the bus, along with my brother. Someone in the bus quipped that she would surely fetch some brownie points for demonstrating initiative power. From then on, I knew that we were watched, every single step!

As we drove through the city, I watched Allahabad from up-close. The narrow two-way roads, lots of cycle-rickshaws, ancient buildings, and simple people - it was a world apart from the metro I lived in. But the winter blooms were just as amazing as in Delhi.

We reached the campus in less than half an hour. The first thing we received was an apron with a 'number'. From then on, for all official purposes, our names were obliterated by these numbers (I was number 24 :-)
). We had instructions for the day and in general. After the attending Captain addressed us and spoke about a lot of mighty and inspiring things, we were finally allotted our dormitory. It had nice beds, a full-length mirror, a common cupboard, a side-table, and windows that looked out to a verdant area of the campus.

We settled down in the place and geared up for the next day, when the tests would commence. I spent all evening preparing for the written test and then visited the club area. In the mess hall, finally saw some men! It was a strange sight for me - men and women dining in separate sections of the hall. The warm food was simple but great and more than made up for the extra civil atmosphere. After dinner, when I played table-tennis with a group of men and came back to the girls, one girl asked me if I had made the first move to talk to the men. I did not even think about it! I realized then that even the girls were watching every step of other girls! :-)

Went back to the dorm, snuggled into my bed, went through my notes for the test and called it a day. But slumber did not come immediately. Some voices from a neighboring room, regular peals of laughter, Shahrukh Khan, Tom Cruise, lipstick shades, boyfriends …

Day 1- Woke up to a cold but bright morning. Everyone queued up for using the washrooms. The hot water system was tricky. You had to wait for a long time but when you turned on the tap, the water was boiling hot. And not much of cold water to mix! Despite such glitches, got ready to hit the mess at 5:45 hrs (it would close after 6:00 AM!). After breakfast and some exploration of the campus, sat down for the written test. It was a quite a lengthy one. The results were announced before lunch. The first day was through. I was into the next round. The ones who could not make it to the next round went back the same day.

Day 2 - All of us assembled in a ground and were briefed about our group activities. These were a combination of physical and mental exercises. In one activity, my team had to simulate crossing a ditch between two trees, using a rope. I volunteered to demonstrate how we could do a Tarzan jump. When I was ready to yell 'yohoooo', another team member pushed me from behind. And then the unexpected happened! Instead of swinging to the other side, I came sliding down to the ground, my fingertips bleeding profusely from grazing the thick coir of the rope. That was the end of my Tarzan’ing around! We completed the task without any other casualty. But I was incapacitated – could not lift a single thing or even brush my hair. Oh, the misery! Yet the pain was overshadowed by something else: I became a celebrity!! All interviewing officers were quite amused when I told them how I tried to do the Tarzan jump. J

Day 3 - More group activities. Involved group discussions, management and leadership skills.
(More on this some other time!)

Day 4 - Was the best of the lot for me. It was the day of the individual (timed) physical tasks. These tasks included:
  • A long jump
  • Walking across a 10-ft high by 10-ft long open plank without any support 
  • Balance-walking on a 3-ft high by 5-ft long rod
  • Parallel-walking on ropes between two trees
  • Jumping across a sand ditch
  • Crossing a Burma bridge
  • Crossing a length of barbed electric (simulated) wire
Every task would fetch a particular score, based on the degree of difficulty. Had to complete all the tasks in five minutes. I completed all tasks except the parallel-walking task. I scored the highest in my batch. :-) This was the only task where you could immediately judge and rate your performance with precision.

1:1 interviews were scheduled for the evening. There was a quite a flutter in the group. Everyone exchanged notes on their interviewing officers. The experienced ones knew all of them (and their idiosyncrasies) and tried to counsel the rest. But one thing was clear: this was the most important round.

My interview did not go too well. I goofed up on some questions. Captain of the Indian Cricket girls' team? Editor of Reader's Digest? Times of India? Indian Express? How do they differ in their ideologies? You would think these are simple questions but I had no clue then! The officer made sure that I spoke in length about my aspirations, core values, and my perceptions of the world. I loved this bit very much! And looked like he also enjoyed the conversation.
J

Day 5 - We were instructed to assemble in the volley ball ground. We were given a chance to meet all the interviewing officers in a board room and assess ourselves. This was the final chance. We figured that if we had done well and our self-assessment was also correct, it meant that we knew our strengths and weaknesses well. This would indicate clarity of thought and good analytical skills. But if we tried to be defensive in the assessment, it would indicate unrealistic thinking and stubbornness.

After meeting all of us, the officers were locked up in a room and consulted each other for the final chart. You can imagine the state of mind of all of us, waiting for the results with bated breath and seated comfortably in an adjacent hall. All of us were given our return train fare, just in case. And then the judgment was out: I was not in. I was furious and did not know how to handle it. Where did I go wrong? Oh, the agony! I stomped out of the campus with my comrades following me at a distance. They were somehow not disturbed. I understood the reasons later.

We took a rickshaw to the railway station and bought our return fare. In the cozy confines of the hotel that we checked into, we talked and attempted to analyze why we did not get in. I was slowly coming to terms with the fact that I was not meant to be in the army. And five years of bonded service? Seemed too long! And a natural acceptance prevailed, followed by “Oh no, not my cup of tea!” When I came back to Delhi, I started enjoying the break from work and looked forward to getting back to my 'content' world. And the joi de vivre was certainly enhanced by the SSB experience.

So ends the story of my Indian Army dream. I have no regrets. Instead, I am glad that I had an opportunity to experience a different world and to learn a lot by living with a bunch of girls for a week. And most importantly, I understood myself better. I will always cherish the memories of those days, as a dream that touched me and passed by.

*Reema did make it to the Officer’s Training Academy (OTA) in Chennai. The last I time I spoke to her parents in Delhi, she was serving from a nice remote corner of the country. I somehow knew she would make it, from the moment I met her at NDLS.
:-)