Tag: team

Is anyone listening?

Raghunath Thakur has resigned. The humiliation and harassment was too much for him and his father. An IT professional, he was pushed on the stairs by the SHO as if he was some roadside criminal and taken away by force without any cognizable offence committed by him. It is heartrending to watch him being pushed around in the CCTV footage on the stairs while being taken away ,for no crime committed except perhaps that of joining our company. He is just 24 years old.

Aparajita, a professional dancer par excellence was pushed around by three constables. Her mobile was snatched away. It was painful to see her being assaulted and thrown out of the SHO’s room. Her crime: She was asking the SHO the reason for detaining and arresting three of our team members. She is just 21 years old.

All the other team members were forced to sit and see the drama without retaliating or recording what was going on. They were threatened with lathis and verbal abuse to not move and to not react.

These are innocent young bright people. Is this the way they are supposed to be treated by the uniformed force? It is a shame to even call them uniformed.

We were all raped on the night of August 11, 2014. And not only us, all our families were affected too. After all they just wanted decent lives for their kids. Not harassment in a police station for no crime committed.

We want to know why?


Is the SHO the Lord of the jungle? To do as he pleases? To wipe out lives, careers, reputation. dreams, hopes according to his whims and fancies?

Mr. Solanki: Can you create one job, one career for any one life?

Then what right do you have to snuff out so many lives, destroy so many careers, so many dreams? What right do you have to treat educated professionals like petty roadside criminals and push and shove them as per you will. You also held many of them by the neck and their collars? How dare you? How dare you?

We need protection from the police. They are the biggest legalized gundas in our country.

We need protection from the SHO, the constables, the ‘lal batti ki gadi’ ‘the khaki uniform’. They are all symbols of uncontrolled power and its abuse.

Is anyone listening?


For better or for worse

If I could just run and if I could just hide. From people, from the fakeness of the world, from the lies in the relationships, from the constant need to prove one’s worth. If we could stop living our lives on visiting cards and bank statements for just a few moments. But that is like asking the earth to stop rotating. For as long as we live, this is what will matter to us, the titles, the turnovers, the cars, the houses. It is quite pathetic actually. Because at the end of all this madness, we have to stand naked in front of ourselves, in front of our maker, will all our faults and follies. Tab kya karenge? Where will we hide then? and from whom? and for how long?

After so many years of being alive, I finally shouted at my mother. She was playing the same old tune. That of her son being the most successful child amongst all three as he had made the maximum amount of money and property. And it always triggers me. So I reacted. I told her that she was uneducated and illiterate, that she cannot understand what I am trying to do and that she never could. I am not proud of all that I said to her. It does not beehove me to go down to her level. But she has been humiliating me and all that I have been trying to be that I just wanted to hurt her once. For her to feel what I feel every moment. The rejection, the pain and the constant loss of self esteem because of my parents’ abandonment. I guess it would have been easier to accept the rejection if they were dead. There is a finality in death. A sense of loss which can be dwealt with over time. But with life, there is always hope. A possibility that maybe someday they would be able to accept me and love me just the way I am.

So I reacted, shouted and walked away. From all that could have been but was not. From hope and dreams and illusions. To reality. To what is real in my life. To Appu and my work.

Challenging projects in hand. Lot of reading to do. We have bought many books, Thank God we have the money to do that. We have Document 8168 ( vol I and II), Annexyure 14, Annexture 4, Aircraft operation manual, Jeppesen Charts. Ab padai karni hai. Between the bills and the admin, accounts, client call,meetings, sleeping, time nikalna hai. Very tough. It is a fight every day. To just read and digest a few lines.

The TV in the pantry is quite a distraction for all the class IV staff. The cook, housekeeping boy ,guards and office boys love being in the pantry. The admin is proving to be tougher than the technical part. The story of our country. Satellite launch karenge lekin bijli paani nahin hai.

The technical team is getting stable ( fingers always crossed). They experienced flying in the simulator installed at the Delhi Flying Club and I think they are just beginning to fall in love with aviation and hopefully GC.

Hope is a good thing. Hope is all we have.

For better or for worse.








‘And why’

Work has begun in the newly leased office space. It is bareshell and a lot of renovation,fabrication,interior wok needs to be done to make it operational. Quite a job. Appu is coordinating with the architects and contractors and that is a major burden off my head. The biggest challenge facing us is that of building a good team. A team which has this ‘stuff of leadership’ one keeps hearing about. The stuff dreams are made of. We have a dream. A fantasy.

I think it is time we re-defined ‘poverty’. Poverty is not about having ‘nothing’. It is about having ‘everything’ and yet wanting ‘more’ by any means. It is about dis-respecting women and children. It is about hiding our true selves and presenting a painted mask to the world just to look good. It is about not confronting the truth for fear of loss of wealth or chair, even if it is staring us in the face. It is about producing bad quality work and getting away by saying that we are not educated enough. It is about selling our souls to make money fast. So the rich are sometimes poorer than the poorest. And the poor are often times richer than the richest. Bahut complicated hai.

We are also a country driven by bottomlines. Ten years ago it was ‘roti,kapda,makan’. And even today it the basics. The politics of this country is driven by the bottomline. Add to it ‘daaru’. So if the would be netas ( really?) offer khana,kapda and/or daaru, the promise of a few square feet of land, they get the votes. To achhi sarkar kahan se banegi? We are the ones selling our own futures so cheap. Whom can we blame? And the money to provide all this comes from the corporates. And hence politics becomes business. Based on M&M. Money and Muscle power. Mike par speech dene se koi neta thodi ban jaata hai. We have no leaders today. We have no one to look up to. That is a poverty that cannot be redeemed. Our younger generation is busy trying out the western culture. Whether it is clothes, lifestyle, drinking, smoking, girlfriends or easy money, they want it all and now. No spark. All plastic. I guess we are responsible. This is what we have created. Plastic people. Plastic money.

Where is the topline? What kind of a nation do we wish to be? What are the qualities we wish to live by? What do we wish to be known for? Can we just become clean for a change? Manage the garbage and drainage? Ensure clean water supply to all before creating more malls? Ensure enough parking space and open space before allowing more cars on the already overcrowded roads? Do good work in place of just trying to look good? We do not donate organs, we do not donate time and we certainly do not donate goodwill. Are we really human? The lawyers and judges are worse than prostitutes. Yes. The courts are worse than the so called red light areas where thousands queue up to buy and sell souls everyday.

More than money, we need to generate and achieve self-respect today. As a nation. As individuals.

So that our children do not turn around and ask us:

‘What the hell have you done?’

‘And why?’


‘The Poverty’

Could not win a case for a client at AAI.  The site lies in the Approach funnel and that overshadows all other justifications for increased height. The client got very upset and refused to talk to us after the presentation. It is difficult to lose a match and accept it gracefully. A thorough inventory has revealed that we did our best and that is enough. Cannot please everybody, I guess. Two other clients are following up with AAI on their own. Although their project has been cleared, they do not believe our words and are sending different people to discover the facts. The truth is only one. There are versions of it but the absolute truth is the same. Maybe they think that a team led by a woman cannot really carry a project through to successful closure.

The new office space has been finalized and the fabrication and interior work has to begin. Huge cost and time involved. It is scary. But our lease has expired and we need to move out fast. So we are taking necessary steps inspite and despite of our fears. Appu has taken it upon herself to get the office interiors designed and constructed. It is during these times that we dream of having our own space. But ‘thinking’ is all we can do. Where is the ‘money’ sweetheart? And pots of money to buy one square feet of land in NCR region. Kahaan se aayega?

We need a good technical team ( What’s new?). We need team members with an attitude of quality ( kabse dhoond rahen hain?). We are evergreen on the naukri site now with contiuous interviews. Do we really wish to win in this country? Do we really need a career or are looking for any job which can provide us with money to survive.

The election fever has begun. The poor are being bought by a ‘bottle of daroo’, ‘ garib ki rasoi’ meaning food for the day ( will it last for a lifetime?), promises, money and what have you. The poor, the marginalized, the guys who do not get any attention at all from the society suddenly get prominence. Jiski daroo, uske liye vote. Ek baar khana khila dene se jeevan kat jaayega kya? We are really poor. The biggest beggars are in the biggest chairs of the country. The beggar on the road is a king compared to them. Of course, we are all to blame. It will take too much effort to go out there and change the destructive pattern. Jaan bhi ja sakti hai. So it is easier to let things be the way they are. let the dysfunctionalities continue year after year, generation after generation.

My family did not invite me for ‘Rakshabandhan’. I guess they are complete without me. They cut me out long ago. And of course the happy family pictures of their get together have been posted all over facebook. Face book has become the commercial billboard for displaying sacrosanct emotions such as love, affection and beauty. Emotions which can only be experienced, not displayed.  Does it hurt? Of course. Like hell.

At some point we will have to understand that in order to be happy, everyone around us needs to be happy. In order to experience abundance and peace, everyone around us needs to experience it first.

That is the catch we fail to grasp.

That is the irony.

And that is the poverty.




Huge Chaos

Likhne ka time nahin hai. Sone ka time nahin hai.  Symptoms of living in Delhi. Of trying to be part of the mad race. Bhaag Milkha bhaag. Jab thak jaayoge to khud hi baith jayoge. Till then, all the best.

Overflowing garbage dumps near the glamorous malls and five star hospitals. Stinking water all over the roads due to bad drainage during rains with open nallahs, Of course New Delhi is the capital of India. No doubt about that. But you know about the co-existence of combinations, right: raat aur din, garibi aur amiri, gandgi aur mall, paise, daroo aur election. sab jude hue hain bhai. They are all connected.

Office mein abhi team hai. Aur bas bees minute baad, ab team nahin hai. That is the reality we live with. We are good or we are really bad. All extremes. We cannot perform a balancing act. Either we work hard and smart or we sleep. Barring the eating, there is pretty much nothing else that we do ( or are capable of doing with the hectic work schedule). The admin and accounts team is very sincere and hard working as of now. The techies ( technical guys) want the money, the easy and fast way. Just that there is none. There is no short cut.

Chal raha hai. I mean we are not running with a negative balance in our bank. That is huge. That is fabulous. Some time ago, we had to apply for an additional loan and nearly all the banks refused. All of them wanted to know how we could run a company despite being in the negative for so long? We tell them that we follow the spiritual laws, not the laws of the material earth. They did not believe us. We did not get the loan.

Rakhi, depicting the love between a brother and sister. Why does the love last only for a day in a year? I mean there are so many years and 365 days in every year. The love should last on an everyday basis. And for a lifetime. Lifetime? What a PJ (poor joke)? Lifetime ke liye toh kuch bhi nahin hota.  Specially love.  Talk about money. Get real. So me and Appu have decided to be at home, catch some sleep and some good home cooked food. That is all. No fake celebration of a love which does not exist.

We have work. We are employed. Just that the office has to be shifted. The new leased office space has to be renovated . Paise chhahiyen and time and effort. All scarce commodities. What has to be done, has to be done.

We just wanted to live a decent life. How is it that we have managed to create so much of chaos man?

Huge chaos.





And then ‘Cut’

So much of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

The furor over the ousting of an IAS officer. Naya kya hai? Thodi sachhai samne aa gayi toh dard ho raha hai? That is the truth behind the ‘lal batti ki gadi’, ‘ the illusion of power’, ‘the glamourous future’ that attracts people from all walks of life to choose to be an IAS officer. The ‘uneducated’ rule the ‘eductaed’ in this country. Kamal hai. Aapko pata nahin tha abhi tak? yeh to roz hota hai. Isme kya nayi baat hai? The IAS officers have no choice but to become ‘ specialized personal assistants nay slaves’ to the ruling political head. It is common knowledge. And he/she dare not affect the channels of money, legal or illegal flowing to the political coffers. Bhaiyya ‘crores of rupees’ ki baat hai. What is the career of one IAS officer before the crores and crores of rupees at stake?Kya bachhon jaisi baaten kar rahe ho? Honesty, imandari -yaar kitaab main achhe lagte hain yeh shabd.

I have been implicated in a false case of beating up an ex-woman peon just beacuse she came to ask for her salary. Not only that, she has alleged that I encouraged the guard of the office to molest her. I mean it is pre-posterous. Whereas the truth is that she came with four drunk men of the local MLA who assaulted me and the guard in our own office at night. Samajh nahin aata ki rona chahiye ki hasna chahiye. Or maybe both. So with everything else in the office, there is a false court case to fight. This is the poverty of our country. Not the lack of money, but the poor minds.

The office has too be shifted. Huge job. Of course not bigger than living. Just living is the toughest job. We have work. The team is building up. The admin is in place. So is the accounts. The technical is shaping up. The only glitch being that we work mostly in the nights now. In place of being a ‘once upon a time feature, it has become a daily routine. Very taxing. very tiring. Od course Appu is bearing the brunt of it. She is alone in the nights on all days. It is going to be difficult for her to forgive me for this.

I have a couple of questions for God. Actually many. Chakkar samajh main nahin aa raha hai.  Need a date with you God.

The rest as they say is history. The bills, the rations, the repair, the maintenance, the rents, the salaries.

So much of sound and fury. So much of drama. Action. lights, camera.

And then ‘Cut’.

‘A letter to Mom’

The day just gone by happened to be my biological birthday. Nothing great about it. I do’nt even think that I have had a spectacular innings or have broken any world records. All I can honestly say for all these years is that ‘ we survived’. Me and Appu. Appu and me. Whichever way.

But Appu thinks otherwise and she and ‘The Team’ at the office decided to throw a surprise party for me with lunch and it was very touching and inspiring. No fakeness. Just down to earth affection and caring. No huge gifts or glamour. A huge potted plant from a nursery ( because of my love for plants) and an illuminated portrait of Krishna( as they saw the Bhagwad Geeta) on my table. Very thoughtful. The best part was that that everyone from Sunita ( who cooks food in the office)  to Sana ( who takes care of the phone and various admin issues) to Rajesh ( the guard) to the technical guys, Rajat and Soma, all came together as a team. This bonding was beautiful. And the ‘sutradhar’ of course was Appu who also choreographed the show in anonymity. Myself, who claims to know every little event that happens in the office had no clue that this get together was being organized.

Thank you guys. For the team spirit you displayed. For the bonding. For the TLC (tender loving care).

My father called. Wished me. Asked me to save some money for the rainy days. So far so good. Then the same tape. My classmates were making so much more money than me. ( So what papa? It is ok. I have my dignity, work that I like doing and Appu. We have a decent life, we are self supporting). And then some more. You should not make friends ( what you mean is ‘men-friends’, right? But where were you when I was alone, without money for any treatment even when I was sick? Did you think then that I could get used or abused by men/women alike? Aaj yaad aya aapko? Aaj aap advice de rahen hai?). It is Ok papa. You could not be there for reasons best known to you. I have stopped judging you. Please stop judging me. We did our best, you and me.

What I also remember from the day gone by is that my mother never called me. I wish I could write to her and ask: ‘ Mom, would you have loved me if I had made more money? Or if I had been more successful in the world outside? Or had more name and fame? Would you have loved me if I had been more of a traditional daughter? Would you have loved me if I had stayed in my marriage despite knowing that it had broken up long ago? I tried you know. For a long time. To make you happy. Even if I was dying inside, I wanted you to be happy. And then somewhere I gave up. Do you even know when I gave up trying?

It was that moment when I had no money, no husband, no place to hide myself or my daughter. I called you. You came with Dad. And then you said that it was all my fault that my marriage broke. My fault that everyone left. And so I had to face the consequences on my own. You drove away with Dad and I was running behind your car. Till I was tired. At that moment I knew I was alone. For better or for worse. That it was just me and God. That you were never there. And it was at that moment I accepted that I had no Mom. I loved the title of Mom. but there was no one there. never had been for a long time.

So I guess you just gave birth to me and forgot. I do not know if I need to be thankful to you for giving me birth or resentful for abandoning me.

And so , I really do not know how to be a Mom to Appu. I just keep trying to not do, what you did to me. Maybe that is not enough. I do not know.

Maybe someday I will have the courage to write that letter or ask you face to face: ‘Why the hell did you abandon me’?

Someday, I will write.

A letter to Mom.


Finally have a few moments to write. Finally there are a few moments of peace. Of silence. The phone is not ringing (Thank God!). There is water in the office and the house. Most of the bills for this month have been paid. There is work and we are in the midst of completing three projects. Can you imagine that? From ‘No work’ to ‘some work’ to ‘so much work’! Unbelievable. But so much stuff in our lives is unbelievable.

Have not slept well for the past two months. There has been too much work, too much stress. Ditto for Appu. The admin issues, the team creation, the execution and completion of projects has taken up all the space in our lives. There is nothing left for anything else. No time, no energy to do anything apart from work. Our relationship is getting affected with this overload and yet I have no solutions, no alternative path as of now. It is just like a one way street with no end in sight. We are following a gruelling routine and there is no exit route.

There is no time to go for long walks in the park. No time to do normal things. To cook for Appu. To be with her. To be normal. Running GC has become a juggrenaut which has taken up all the space in our lives. And living in a city like Delhi is a very tiring task in itself. There are too many people, too many cars, too many masks, too many ambitions and too many male egos to tackle. Being a common man does not help at all. Being a woman on top of it is a complete disaster. We keep talking about the physical rapes happening in the city. What about the mental and emotional rapes happening in our own homes and offices all the time? What about them? The court metes out punishment based on what is written on the papers. What about the unwritten committments? The unwriitten committment when we take on a project or have a child or make love? Are we not supposed to follow it through till the end? And will it not be a crime to abandon the project, child or relationship midway?? Which court in the land can punish such crimes? It is so ironic. The biggest crimes are unpunished. And we keep fighting for money, property and all the other unnecessary stuff in courts. Ladte raho bhaiyya. Keep fighting. keep shouting. For all the wrong reasons. At all the wrong places. The Gods above must be in despair.

Mask utar lo bhai. Let us show our real faces to the world. Let us not be  poor in thought or action.

We have a team. A well paid one. For once we are capable of offering high remuneration to our technical team and we are very happy about it. It definitely takes us out of the realm of just earning dal roti or of meeting our basic needs and from being a part of the ‘aloo pyaaz ki GIS mandi’. We are doing good work. We are earning good money and we are very very grateful. To our Higher Power for this abundance in our lives today.

Thank you HP.



Thank you God.


Have been working nights. Continuously. There is a certain tiredness. Of the mind, body and soul. Part of the package deal I guess. The good and the bad. The beautiful and the ugly.

Appu has wished me Mother’s Day in the most innovative manner. As I went to brush my teeth in the morning, there were these lovely colored alphabets strung together in a wave over the mirror wishing me ‘Happy Mother’s Day’.  And there was this little cartoon with her and me on the left side of the mirror. It felt beautiful. This is true wealth. Real abundance. To be loved and respected by your child. Thanks bebzer. You made my day.

There is work. Which is huge. I mean we are not begging. We are not even marketing our sevices anymore. Yet we can safely assume that we are employed, at least for some time now (!!).  Wow. I mean we are employed employed. Not unemployed employed. You know what I mean.

We are still looking. For good team players. Difficult to find winners.

We are OK. Better than before. Barring the bills to be paid, a court case, interviews, looking for a new office space( as our lease is running out), the rest is OK. My father visited me recently (of course behind my mothers’ back). He suggested that I should get less angry. That I should practice acceptance. Valid point. He has forgotten the umpteen times that he got violent with me, my sister and mother. And his emotional absence in our lives. He was always there but never really there. These are the paradoxes with which me and my sister have grown up. And so it not news that my sister was beaten up by her husband a few days ago. Not just a slap. Violence which continued for an hour or more. And the roots are in our violent and abusive childhoods. How could we ever become confident or successful or happy as adults? But which court can punish this kind of crime? This emotional crime is the genesis of all kinds of other crimes, the mother of all crimes so to say. But there is no acknowledgement of them. Family hai. sacrosanct hai. No one wants to talk about it. kids get molested. Girls get raped within the family. Chup raho. Don’t talk about it. Push it under the carpet. Appear like a good family. But somewhere, some generation has to bear the consequences, the high cost of being silent, of the unspoken, of the abuse.

I ma grateful to the Higher Power for our life today. Me and Appu. We have a roof. We have food to eat and clotes to wear. We have work to do which is challenging and that we are proud of doing. More importantly, there is no viloence, emotional or physical. What more can we ask for.

Thank you God.

The ‘R’

Holi is over.

The best part of Holi this year has been the gujiyas made by Appu. All by herself. With no help at all.  Well done bebzer. Very proud of you.

Appu has gone to be with her grandparents and father to celebrate Holi. After a long time. I sincerely hope that she has a good time. Living with me has made her life very stressful. On all fronts.

The constitution of the Appellate Committee has ensured a certain transparency and consistency in the height clearance projects at AAI. Very welcome indeed. The work front is getting better. Of course the volume of bills are also increasing. And their amount. So I guess it is a constant crazy race to match the two.

Rishtey? C’ommon, you should have grown up by now. Economics ki baat karen?Care and concern. Which product do you wish to sell bhaiya? Care and Concern toh advertisements mein hi dikhta hai.What madness. Money. And more money. Quite a chakravyuh. And we are so happy enmeshed in it. We do not even wish to get out before we die.

Team. Oh yes, the team. The winning team. Pehle team to bana lo. Winning to baad ki baat hai. Why the hell are you so sarcastic man? Koshish kar rahen hain. Dekh rahen hain aap. We are trying. For a long time buddy. It has been years. There again, The sarcasm. Yaar time lagta hai. ATM machine to nahin hai. Ki kaam dalo aur success nikalo. Everything takes time. At least the good things.

At some point we wish to be out of this madness. How? No idea.

But we do wish to get out. Before it is too late. before we get completely sucked in. Maybe it is already too late.

very scary thought. Too late for what?

For restoration of the soul,mind,body. Foe resurrection. For recovery.

The ‘R’.





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