Yogesh Dawda – Award go to…?

 

I was very excited, thrilled and charged-up when I completed my first book THE ELEVENTH TERRORIST, every page I wrote thinking that my book will be the best seller, every incident I described thinking that I am the best writer, every character I introduced thinking that I have done best characterizations and the way I narrated my story I thought I am the best story teller in today’s world.

I remember that day when I got the first copy of my book, I was on the top of the world, I was flying over the clouds, comparing myself with the best authors of the world like James Hadley Chase, John Grisham, Jeffery Archer, Michael Crichton etc, I was feeling like some International celebrity.

My book was published and I did not go out for 2 days, I was practicing stylish autograph, I thought people will chase me for autograph. I went to beauty parlor for hair cut and I did facial treatment to look fair & lovely, thinking media will chase me for my photographs. I was jotting down the answers of most likely questions about me & my book, thinking that TV Channels van will be parked outside my house to take my interview. I was figuring out the price of my book if I have to sell the rights, thinking that film producers will phone me for making a movie on my book. I was preparing my speech, thinking that IIT & IIM will invite me to share my ideas & knowledge with their students.

It is now 15 months since I have published my book, everyday, stand in my balcony for hours, no one even looks at me, the door bell rings everyday but no media comes for interview, I pick up all my phone but no phone from film producers – I check all the posts and couriers expecting the invitation to receive the award of best writer, the compliments I got was only from the people to whom I had given complimentary copies. Nothing happens, I was very frustrated, upset, disturbed, discouraged.

My family had already knew my frustration and one day they made a scene at home like Award function, my daughter announced “Ladies & Gentlemen put your hands together to welcome Mr. Yogesh Dawda for his best book “THE ELEVENTH TERRORIST” and to give away this award may I call upon his wife Asha Dawda on the stage, she gave away the trophy, she hugged me, we both were crying, I was crying because I was receiving my first award, she was crying because she was giving her first award and my son sitting on the sofa was clapping & whistling to cheer us up.

Unlike to other recipients, I gave unappreciative & unthankful speech: I am unappreciative to all the avid readers who can become fan of Chetan Bhagat but not mine. I read newspaper, watch TV regularly, I show my loyalty towards SONY, ZEE STAR PLUS, why didn’t they give publicity to me and my book; I am unthankful to all my favorite film producers like Yash Chopra, Karan Johar, Sajid Nadiadwalla etc, although, I see all their movies on first day first show, why they did not come for the rights of my book?  Lastly, I hate God, I pray every day and he made me a prey – unthankfully – thanks

To receive the award whether from a big award night or from your wife at home, the feeling is same, that has recharged my energy to go for my second book which is scheduled to published by November 2012 – I am wishing myself a better luck this time.

Buy THE ELEVENTH TERRORIST on line www.flipkart.com free home delivery in India. International purchases click right side button on this page.

Sudha & Narayana Murthy – Secret of their Successful Marriage

Narayana and Sudha met in Pune through a common friend Prasanna, who is now the global head of technology at Wipro. Books were the first point of introduction between Sudha and Murthy and still play an important part in their lives. All the books that Murthy read were passed on to Sudha by Prasanna.

Though their romance, which meant going out to restaurants – where all bills were paid by Sudha while Narayana maintained a record with the promise he would pay it back, they confess they were never the hand-holding, gong for long walks-couple, but romance through enjoying shared interests in books.

Sudha say’s “Murthy never returned the money from those dates, I would read all the books that Murthy had read and they were passed on to me by Prasanna.” Sudha recalls her early romance with an awkward Murthy who confessed to her early on in their relationship with “he was only five feet four inches tall, had a squint, came from a poor family, had huge family to support and had no job” she shares “I liked his sincerity. He said to me “I can’t give you riches but I can give you comfort.” My father warned me that Murthy didn’t have a job and I had persisted saying that I was working. My father told me again that a woman cannot work all her life but I said “I will manage.”

Sudha shares the secret of their successful marriage, “For a successful marriage you have to understand the other person’s weaknesses and accept the person as they are. You have to lower your expectations. Marriages break when people have very high expectations of each other. I accepted Murthy as he was, even without a job.”

Murthy shares the same view of acceptance and believes: “Love is all about never having to say sorry to the other person, as Eric Segal defined it. The partner knows that whatever you do it in the best interest of one’s partner.” He says philosophically.

Murthy who quit his job at Patni Computers to pursue the Infosys dream insists that despite his emphasis on simplicity, money was always a focus and he did not stop himself ‘from making money hand-over-fist’. He elaborates, “For an entrepreneur money has to be the focus. If you company is not successful you will not be able to create jobs, but all the money should be made through ethical means, that is very important.”

Even today, they both lives in the same house which they inhabited before Infosys became one of the largest software empires in the country. In the early days their home was shared by Nandan Nilekani and his wife Rohini during the formative years of Infosys and its struggle while Murthy was away in the US making sure their dream project would take off to higher firmaments.

Ordinarily when people chase success, they usually run after big homes, big cars and first class travel but the Murthys have steered clear of any indulgence in luxury, despite it being easily affordable to them. “I am from a middle-class; rather lower-middle class background. I did not have to make a special effort to lead a simple life.

Fortunately my wife believed in the same way of life. Although she came from a comfortable background her mother had impressed upon her the importance of leading a simple life; it trickles down to the children as well” says Murthy explaining the contrast between what they can afford and what they choose to afford.  Sudha agrees with Murthy’s ideology. “I don’t connect success with money. And this kind of contentment comes from knowledge.” Both his children have settled down and Infosys can run on its own steam. His daughter Akshata married Rishi Sunak, a Stanford graduate while Rohan found his life partner in Laxmi Venu Srinivas, daughter of TVS Motors Chairman.

Akshata is a mother. Rohan has just received a rare honor from Harvard University. For an individual the cause of happiness varies from time to time – when one reaches the age of 55-60, it is primarily the successes of one’s children that give happiness. When I was in my 40s and 50s, success meant achieving things for Infosys. Today I derive my happiness from the success of Infosyians younger than me.”

India may produce many such multi-millionaires in the future. But Narayana Murthy will stand tall as one for creating capital to be shared generously. He is a rare in his thought for putting individual interest far behind the interest of the masses at large. “I have derived a certain amount of satisfaction from doing things that have a positive impact on society.” He sums up. Well from the glittering saga of Infosys, we know what goes around, comes around!

This post is inspired from Hello Magazine May 2012

A Prostitute, Pimp & Police

Prostitute:

I was born in a poor family, in a small village of West Bengal, my father died when I was young, my father’s elder brother looked after us, I treated him as my father, my protector, one day I was alone, he came drunk and raped me, he warned me to keep quiet or else he will kill me, I was so scared that on same night I took a train, I was not carrying any clothes, I was not having single rupee, I was travelling without ticket and not knowing where I was going. I met a stranger in the train who helped me to get my ticket and bought me some food, and he took me to his place in New Delhi.

Two years later – I was celebrating my 21^st Birthday with few of my girlfriends, as the candles were lit on my birthday cake, I took a deep breath before blowing out the candles, and laughter filled in the room, few minutes later, while my friends were still eating, my mobile phone rang. My response was very brief “Yes, yes, okay” – and I stood up and began to walk away from my half-eaten piece of birthday cake, I walked  out of the door and took a stairs down, got into a back seat of a Honda City waiting at the corner of the street. I got an address on my mobile through text message.

After about 30 minutes, the Honda City arrived at GK-II and stopped next to a cigarette shop in M-Block market. A young man in a long overcoat, who had come in a black Ford Endeavor SUV, stood at the cigarette shop, my driver rolled down the window and waved to the man in overcoat, who walked over the car “take a look” my driver said, and young man peered into the backseat.

“Excellent” he replied “Is she coming with me” my driver said “No I will drop her off” I spent on the first night of my 21^st Birthday with three different men. First, two hours in the private guest at GK-II a visiting Mumbai business man, who had dispatched the man in overcoat to check me out; next two hours in some Five Star Hotel with a Local business man and rest of the night with an Arab tourist.

I consider myself as high-end sex worker- an escort, I work for Delhi based escort agency, I work only 3 days in a week, my service charge is Rs 20,000/- for 2 hours and Rs 30,000/- for full night, my whole business is handled by the stranger to whom I met on the train, and his name is Karim.

During Common Wealth Games, there was massive demand, Karim tripled my fees to Rs 90,000/- for one night and I was booked for 12 consecutive days. I keep myself well equipped with an assortment of sex toys, lubricants, condoms and erotic novels for my clients. I give range of services like massage, blowjob, handjob, touching, licking, French kissing, full, no-rush session, soft-core, hardcore…etc

In two years, I bought myself a new Hyundai i-10, and a widescreen TV, rented apartment in South Delhi and sufficient bank balance, to keep myself fit & good looking, I do work out at fitness clubs, regular medical check-ups, I spent money for makeup and new clothes and hence I never have a lack of client problem, the clients always come, I had few of my regular clients which gives me fix monthly income.  Money is important, I either want to be extremely rich – or I want to have a different kind of life….I want to spend all my money into Girls Education and for the Women’s of Rural India…!!!

I got pregnant at the age of 19 when my uncle raped me, Karim helped me to do the abortion, he paid for the hospital and medicine to get me out of nightmare, he never forced me to do this kind of job, in fact I willing took up, as I had nothing to do – a women from rural India, illiterate, uneducated, without qualification, no family support, alone in the city like New Delhi, has got limited choice, either commit suicide or live unprotected life, as it is I had lost my virginity, what else I can do? I chose to become Prostitute…!!!

Pimp:

At the age of 21, Karim left his hometown of Lucknow and moved to Noida, where he enrolled at computer training institute that offered a one-year diploma for Rs 100,000/- he borrowed the money from his father, he planned to pay back after finishing the diploma and landing a job in the IT sector in Delhi. But two months into the course, the managers of the training institute disappeared – along with fees paid by Karim and his classmates, he determined to repay the debt to his father, later, he was found at Connaught Place, selling package tours – Dharamsala, Shimla, Goa to foreign tourist, he accompanied the tour groups on their journeys, stayed in decent hotels and ate and drank free.

Later, he met a Mumbai based travel agent who offered a job, if Karim would also be interested in “satisfying male tourist” – an additional service that would pay Rs 20,000/- per night, he accepted, after a week he found himself standing at Delhi Airport receiving a Frenchman, in day time he showed him Delhi’s site and at night he did the deed, he was scared on the first night, Frenchman wanted him in the bottom, it happened, he felt strange, he was sad, but Frenchman paid him well, thereafter he did few sessions just to repay the debt to this father.

He has no regrets about his chosen profession, in fact, he is proud of his success, he hires unemployed models and air hostesses who work for him safe and secure, as if he were a surrogate parent rather than a pimp. He takes 20 percent cut from the prostitutes who work for him, he used to take 30 percent but they happily give 20 percent, if he ask for more they don’t like it, he says “and in the end I earn it because of them” they are my boss, they pays me, I don’t pay them. I am just like salesman.”

He says “There are a lot of intricacies and expenses in this business, I have to take care of a lot of things – I pay the rent for three apartments, I pay for all the cars and petrol, I have to pay my other employees” who answer the phones, drive the women to meet customers, and also arrange booking on their own. The amount still seems far too low: with more than 20 prostitutes working for him, it seems likely that Karim’s monthly income even after his expenses – is easily more that Rs 1.00 lac and two or three times more in good seasons.

He is honest, he means delivering what you promise to the client – “to provide an actual 21 years old, not 40 years old pretending to be 21” he cheats a little bit when it comes to customer requests for women of particular nationalities; passing off a Russian woman as English, a Naga as Korean, or a South Indian as Brazilian. He says “You are forced to lie, because people have weird tastes, they ask stuff like, and “Does she speak Arabic?” Do you have a Spanish woman who talks while doing it?” Any Japanese girl who screams?” now you tell me where can I find such women?”

Karim has no plan to expand his business, he is aware of the limits to the game; the safest path is to stay below the radar of the authorities as he put it: “small business, small tension” he wants to settle down into a more traditional life. One day he proposed me for marriage and I accepted with a condition that after marriage I will not work, but be a house wife, he agreed and we both decided to get marry in next week.

Police:

To the police, prostitution appears to represent a kind of minor nuisance: a crime that becomes serious only with you do it too well for too long. “We have bigger problems to deal with – rapes murders – and prostitution comes under soft crime” says ACP Crime branch, Delhi. In fact to have sex for money is not technically illegal in India: the law only prohibits a series of related acts, including soliciting customers in public, having sex with a prostitute in or near a public place, and arranging transactions between prostitutes and clients.

A Prostitutes who conducts her trade privately, independently and voluntarily, in other words, is within the bounds of the law, though not necessarily immune to arrest or prosecution – it’s nearly impossible to prove a prostitute or a pimp guilty unless they’re caught in the act of negotiating a transaction “You can’t just arrest these women while they’re doing their grocery shopping” say ACP crime branch, Delhi.

To break up a prostitution racket, the police basically have one tactic; send a team of three officers – one decoy customer, and two shadow witnesses, who observes the deal being done.

It was my last call before I get married to Karim, police put a trap/decoy pays some money to Karim, and arranges to meet me. When decoy arrives for rendezvous, the two shadow witnesses and a dozen or more policemen barge in and arrested me and Karim.

In police station I saw my photo on missing list, a day later they handed me over to my rapist uncle, who took me to some small place in Gurgaon and raped me daily for about a week and then he sold me to some pimp in Gurgaon, in turn he sold me to Karim.

He did not accept me as his wife and I continued to be a prostitute – what else I can do? A woman from rural India, illiterate, uneducated without any family support….!!!

Moral of the story: Women’s education is our first priority – Women are Men’s Pride, love them, respect them, support them, do not hurt them….!!!

Women’s role – In War of Liberation…!!!

One of the greatest shortcomings in the perception of our fight for Independence is our consistent failure to recognize the role of women in Liberation War. In fact, the role of women is largely ignored, denied and misconstrued in our mainstream history. War heroes include those women who have supported the valiant freedom fighters with food, shelter, funds; who have nursed the wounded and hid weapons risking their own lives. They also include those who have willingly given their sons to war, who have lost their loved ones and even worse been subjected to sexual abuse and still survived to tell their stories.

Ferdousi Priyabhashini, who was among the lakhs of women victims violated by the Pakistani army during 1971 Bangladesh Liberation War…The horrendous memories of those dark hours are still vivid in her mind. She has witnessed mass genocide and slaughter by the Pakistani army and their associates.

She was then an attractive 23 year old single mother of three little boys and worked as front desk receptionist cum clerk at jute mill “I was divorced from my husband and had to support my three sons as well as my mother and siblings. I couldn’t manage to flee as I was the sole breadwinner of my family”

One day, she was randomly picked up by the Pakistani army on the pretext of interrogating a false murder charge. I was witness to that daylight murder. They just picked me up saying that I was accused of the murder and they would have to interrogate me. They also falsely branded me a Naxalite.” The army men were laughing as they drank whisky and spat some of the alcohol onto her face and eyes. She wiped off her face with her sari, her eyes brimming with tears. It was April 1971.

Held captive for a supposed interrogation, she was raped by an army officer. “His name was Gulzarin. As I cried my heart out, he told me that I was lucky to be raped and still be alive as he usually killed his victims. The Pakistani army mostly killed and mutilated women after raping them.” The rapist told her “I have spared you. You have a kind face and convincing eyes” He asked her to spend a few months with him as his mistress. When she refused, she was forced to sign a ‘bond’ with him, according to which, she would have to come to them whenever she was sent for.

She recollects the sordid saga “they would have killed me otherwise. I thought of my three helpless children. Who would have supported them if I were killed? After being captured, I was left with two choices; to either give in to the lust of the Pakistani army men, or die I opted to live, is that a crime?”

In the nine months that followed, she was forced to be a ‘comfort woman’ to the Pakistani army, regularly picked up by army vehicles that took her to various camps, “at times, I even had to entertain three to five army officers on a single day. I was used as an unpaid and unregistered sex-worker and my body was used and abused as a tool to satisfy the enemy’s lust. Sometimes, I wondered if life was better as prostitute in a brothel.”

Her woes only intensified when around June-July Ferdousi discovered that she was pregnant.”Obviously, I did not know who the biological father was. I aborted the foetus.”  Even after that, the raping continued. Her agony was at its peak when she was kept in concentration camp in the Jessore Cantonment for 28 hours at a stretch and gang raped.

According to Priyabhashini, there were couples of ‘decent and gentlemanly Pakistani officers’ who are humane towards her. One Major would sometimes urge her to eat properly and take care of herself and in fact, he even proposed marriage to her. Though she rejected his marriage proposal, he assisted her to flee from the clutches of the Pakistani army.

Unlike many of the tortured Bangladeshi women, who even lost their mental faculties, Priyabhashini was determined to rebuild her life. She would not let her ordeal crush her spirit. However, after liberation of Bangladesh, another battle had begun for her. She was ostracized and shunned by her own countrymen, “I became the target of terrible insult and humiliation. Though I was a victim of abuse by the Pakistani army men, people maligned me saying that I was hand-in-glove with them.”

She married to her good friend ATA Ahmed in 1972 and leading a happy conjugal life till date. My husband had to sacrifice his share of the ancestral property as my sisters-in-law were also against me. My husband has been of great support, we have three daughters” she says proudly. Today I am nurturing my creative urges; I created sculptures using wasted and unwanted natural materials like roots, tree trunks, bamboo, dried leaves and drift wood. I decorated my home with my creations.” – I became engrossed in my own work; I withdrew from friends and society. She is ardent fan of Rabindranath Tagore, his songs, poems, short stories and novels have inspired me and I have derived strength from his works. I am a die-hard romantic, beside Tagore I am inspired by the nature.

In reality, many women could actually derive inspiration from the grit and gumption of the remarkable Birangana (War Heroine)

Shakuntala meets Sachin Tendulkar

We got out of ultra modern, hi-speed elevator of Anitilla on the roof-top, the place was totally packed with rich and famous, I selected a dark corner, we can see all and no one can see us, I went in wash-room instructing Shakuntala do not move, when I came back I saw her standing at the same place, looking slightly nervous, sweat on her forehead, maybe she got a cultural shock, and to my surprise…?

She was holding a glass of red wine; I asked her what this is? she replied nervously ‘mala vatala ha Pepsi mahnoon, per ha toh kala-khatta hai” I wanted to bang my head on the wall, controlling my anger I told her “this is not kala-khatta, it is wine, alcohol” she did not understood and I explained her in Marathi “ha daru hai” she looked at me and said “Nautak” I nodded and she looked at glass and bottoms up, a smile on her face ‘me aani maja navra har shanivari ratri la Nautak pite, nantar toh bhi century marte, ratra bhar dhamaal”   she was getting naughty “ O Sahib tumhi kava century marli hai’ I took as a challenge and replied  angrily “I am like Sehwag and not Sachin I score double century” she nodded with praise and started clapping, then she warned me like some local Marathi goon ‘Sachin la challenge kartes, ho sahib ikun gya, jar tumhi double century nahi keli, toh aye sapath, me tumcha bocha var don phatke desil’ she stopped and continued ‘baal pakle per masti nahi geli’  as she had two quick wine looking bit drunk but more confident.

Our conversation got little louder and the crowed next to us were also busy drinking and talking, out of them one person looked back at us and suddenly Shakuntala screamed “Aamir Khan” and he smiled and waved at us, she was stunned, she picked up a glass of white wine sipped and fired the waiter ‘kai re baba toh pepsi nahi, aani ha Limca nahi, cha aye la, majak hai kai’ and she finished the glass she continued ‘kaun hai re caterers’

My heart skipped 3 beats, when I saw my NRI girlfriend Kanta Pushkar from LA, wearing purple sleeveless one piece, high-heel sandals, deep neck, revealing her cleavage, walking towards me like a model on the ramp, with a big smile over her face, I never knew that she has such a long and beautiful legs, she came and hugged me tightly and said ‘I am so happy to see you here’ I replied ‘same here darling’ she looked at Shakuntala and I introduced her “She is Shakuntala a die-hard fan of Sachin Tendulkar” Kanta gracefully hugged her and I continued “today she came here to meet him, can you please help her to meet Sachin Tendulkar” she smiled and said “Certainly but during felicitation ceremony’ and she said ‘excuse me I will see you bit later’ and walked calling “Hi Salman, how you doing?” as she was taller than Salman, she bend little and hugged him.

Shakuntala reacted “O Sahib ha kaun hai? I told her to keep quiet and not to tell my wife, we all started going down at banquet for the felicitation ceremony. At facilitation ceremony of Sachin’s 100 centuries, after the speech of Nita Ambani, Mukesh Ambani, Aamir Khan and the hilarious speech by Salman Khan, then the host Priyanka Chopra took over the mike “Sachin has millions fans in India and overseas, of all age and class rich & poor; rich people can meet Sachin in such gatherings or in stadium, but what about those poor people? How they can meet Sachin? What they think about Sachin? Today we have a die-hard fan of Sachin: Ladies & Gentleman put your hands together and please welcome Ms. Shakuntala Nandulkar” that was a surprise to both of us, I saw Kanta looked back at us and waved, Shakuntala had 4 glass of wine, she was looking confident, she got up and walked up on the dais with a big applause, Priyanka gave her a hand and she stood beside her “Here is a real woman of India, a daughter, sister, housewife, mother and more over she is working as a maid-servant helping her husband to run their kitchen; if Sachin has score 100 centuries than she has done fast after every century Sachin scored, I am very proud and it is my great pleasure to hand over this mike to Ms. Shakuntala Nandulkar to say a few words.

She took a mike, she was sweating, she wiped her face with her sari pallu and tied it around her waist, I heard a clap from the audience appreciating a very natural style of Indian woman, she started her speech in Marathi saying “Hello Mike Testing 1 2 3 4” and she ask the audience “awaz yeto kai’ and there was a big laughter around and she started: I am proud to be Marathi because Sachin is Marathi – I married to a boy just because his name was Sachin Nandulkar  – if not Tendulkar I am happy with Nandulkar so long his name is Sachin. I am very poor, my room is smaller than the size of those elevators and there are many like me who stay in single room, we all have a dream to meet Sachin in person, I am lucky to be here but what about others? I cannot afford to watch a match in stadium, I watch Sachin’s game on my neighbor’s TV or a photo in a borrowed newspaper, for me cricket means Sachin; if Sachin retires than his millions of fan will stop following cricket, I can’t celebrate so I fast when Sachin hits century, if Sachin retires I will commit suicide – she stopped, tears flowing out of her eyes, her throat choked, she was wiping her tears with her sari, It was very surprising that Sachin stood up went on the dais and congratulated her, she almost to touch his feet but Sachin did not allow her to do that, he gave her a bat with his autograph and kit of Mumbai Indians, she clicked photo of  Sachin’s from her mobile phone and Priyanka oblige taking her picture with Sachin.

Nita Ambani offered a free education to her daughter Surekha in Dhirubhai Ambani International School;  Mukesh Ambani offered a job her husband Sachin Nandulkar in Reliance Retails; Salman Khan offered her money to buy a bigger home from Being Human and many other dignitaries has gracefully offered her the help and by the end of the evening she became rich and famous. While having dinner she had 3 more drinks, she was silent, not talking, walking carefully, holding my arms all the way, in short she was drunk…!!!

I helped her to get into front seat of my car, my car sailing towards North Mumbai, I turned left from Blue Sea to get on Worli Sea-Link heading towards Sanjay Gandhi  Nagar Asalfa, Ghatkopar. Her mobile rang and her daughter’s voice came from other end ‘aiye tu kawa yesil, mala bhukh lagli aahe’ Shakuntala started crying ‘atta yete bala, tuja shathi jevan bhi ante, rovo naka’ and she disconnected the phone and continued crying, I understood her problem – I got a parcel of 3 plates Pav-Bhaji and gave her and she was looking at me  thankfully and I said her ‘do kai don phatke tuja bocha var!!! She reacted with smile ‘kava karsil double century’ I shook my head smiling at her, she got little shy, hidden her face with her sari…!!!

Sachin Tendulkar’s Fan – Shakuntala

I came home annoyed, irritated, frustrated, upset because trains were running late so I was late, no autos available again I was late, I changed myself into white pajamas and sleeveless banyan and sat on my new sofa, wiping my face and sweating underarms, my wife shouted from the kitchen “you have got an invitation from Mukesh” my mind started working faster than Dombivali fast local, I knew few Mukesh but no one so close who can send me any invitation, my wife gave me the invitation card, the moment I read the name it was like Tsunami over my mind, body and soul, I was  shocked, stunned, shaken, dazed,  I cannot believe that I was invited by Mr. Mukesh Ambani for the facilitation party of Sachin Tendulkar scoring 100^th centuries and creating a world record, I knew this invitation was by default like they sent me before for  house warming party, however, I didn’t want to miss this opportunity to meet Sachin Tendulkar in person.

I told my wife that we have an invitation for 26^th March 2012 to attend Mukesh Ambani party to facilitate Sachin Tendulkar on his 100^th centuries, she refused to come as she has to go out for satsang, I was thinking for the other options whom should I carry with me in this party, first name strike in my mind was my NRI friend Kanta Pushkar from LA who at present is in Lucknow with her parents and second was Suzan Braganza of Suzan Ladies beauty parlor. To make a choice between two, I would prefer Kanta though she is not beautiful but she is very stylish, rich, elegant, social to jell with such elite crowd compare to Suzan though she is very beautiful but that elegance and grace is lacking due to her middle-class upbringing.

Sitting on the sofa the chain of thoughts running into my mind to plan how and with whom I should attend this high profile party, suddenly my maid servant Shakuntala in her early 30s came out of the kitchen wiping her hands in her green cotton sari and tying her pallu around her waist, Mangal-sutra in her neck, big red bindi on her forehead ‘red signal’ No-Entry I am married. She stood in front of me and said in Marathi “sahib me yeto, mala Sachin la bhhetai cha ayehe” she is fan of Sachin right from her childhood, she does fast after every Sachin’s century,  praying, so that he hits another, if Sachin has scored 100 then she has done 100 fast. I told her you are well-deserved as a fan to meet Sachin, but not in this party, it will be attended by all biggies of Mumbai, I could see that she was little disheartened.

Next morning, I was reading my newspaper and having my first cup of tea, the doorbell rang, I got up and opened the door, I saw a lady in her early 30s wearing tight blue denims and skin tight pink T-shirt with loud make-up on her face, I could not recognize her, then she introduce herself “sahib me tumchi kamwaali Sakuntala”  I was about to faint, she continued “Sahib kasi diste, ek dum halwa, fatak” I could not believe how she could hide her asset from my beast eyes for such a long time?  I could not put off my eyes looking at her, I remembered the dialogue of film Sholay by Gabbar Singh “aare o chhamiya, tum Ramgadh wale kaunsi chaki pisa atta khat hai, bahut karari ho” she was shy and said ‘aasa kai bagat hai tumhi, mala laaj vaatate’  the song rang from film Race “Pehli nazar mein kaisa jadoo kar diya, tere ban baita hai mera jiya, jane kya hoga, kya hoga kya pata,is pal ko milke aa jile zara, mein hoon yahan, tu hai yahan, meri bahon mein aa, aa bhi ja”

My wife suddenly appears (always in wrong time) she took her into the kitchen, I don’t understand why my wife always doubt about my loyalty whenever I interact with other woman, maybe she knows that all men think same when it comes to women, inside the kitchen, I could hear the conversation, our maid-servant was trying to convince my wife to convince me to take her to meet Sachin Tendulkar, but my wife was adamant and said big NO to her that she cannot go to that party to meet Sachin Tendulkar.

My maid-servant walked out of kitchen in her jeans and T-shirt and she made the announcement “tumhi mala Sachin la bhetaila nahi gevon janar toh me tumcha kaam chhodte’ before she completes that sentence my wife started crying, immediately, she surrendered and permitted her to go with me in the party, I looked at her confused and told ‘how can I take her in such a big party’ she shouted ‘e mane khabar nathi, tame kai pan karo, pan anne party ma layi jaoo, mara thi aa badhu ghar-kaam nahi thai, kaamwali vagar hoon toh mari jais” and she ran into kitchen, my maid-servant was standing in front of me and smiling and I was sitting helplessly on my new sofa.

I put my hands on my forehead, thinking how lucky she is? The rich and elegant not good looking Kanta was out; simple and decent good looking Suzan is also out and my maid-servant poor and uneducated hot looking Shakuntala a true fan of Sachin Tendulkar was lucky to meet him in person.

On 26^th March 2012 Monday at 6 in the evening, I was standing in front of mirror, I was looking at my back to see how do I look from back, I was trying to ensure that do I look like a millionaire from any angle?  I was wearing my new cotton trouser just purchased from Mahavir Cloth Store, black polo neck T-Shirt from fashion street at discounted price and a blazer from Raymond (Complete Man)a black shoes which I recent bought from Mahableshwar with 10 year guarantee.

The door-bell rang the woman standing in front of me wearing green silk sari with big golden zari border, a half ghungat covering her head, golden ornaments, mangal-sutra, colorful bangles, gajra in her hair and of course big Red bindi on her forehead, she was dressed like typical Maharashtrian   bride, she was little shy, looking down and walked inside and a song rang in my mind ‘suhaag raat hai ghungat utha raha hun mein, tuhje zamin pe bulaya gaya hai mere liya’ and I sat on the sofa confused, bemused, mystified, baffled  how to carry this antique piece in that party…??

I pulled out my car and open the front door and my wife appeared closed the front door saying ‘Saku will not sit in front with you but she will sit at back away from you’ she came with full barat to see her off, her husband, small daughter, mother-in-law and few other neighbors, advising her ‘ghabharu nako, deva cha naam ghe, Sachin cha autograph ge ani sanghati photo pan ghe, tu shikhli na mobile varoon photo geaila” Shakuntala was bit scare and she was crying like newlywed bride cries in her Bidayi, a song rang in my mind “chhod babul ka ghar, aaj pi ke nagar, aaj jana pada” my car took-off  and I could hear her daughter’s scream “aai – aai – aai” and Shakuntala was sobbing and said “Sahib jara thamba ho….!!!’ I did not respond and my car was cruising towards South-Mumbai – the destination was Antilla.

To be continued…

India’s Dream & Reality…?

Infrastructure is critical to the fortunes of Asia’s third largest economy. Inadequate transport connections, electricity supplies and the like are often ranked by both foreigners and Indians as the biggest impediments to doing business in our country, which means by turn that every form a significant hindrance to growth. Poor infrastructure costs the economy US$65bn a year.

Urgent attention is needed to create more railways, roads, ports and power generating capacity across India, which is huge disadvantage compared with others. Bad road conditions, for example, limit trucks carrying cargo in India to an average distance of only about 250-300 km a day, compared with developed world’s average of 500 km. Similarly, turnaround times for ships loading and unloading in India’s ports can be up to four days, compared with only 10 to 12 hours in Hong Kong.

People are craving for infrastructure: Just 3 years ago when Bandra-Worli sea link was inaugurated millions flocked to admire the country’s very own marvel of modern engineering. People wanted to touch the smooth tarmac and many had picnics on the bridge, other blocked traffic to take family photographs, it is relatively minor engineering feat such as the Sea Link – which cuts 13 minutes off the daily commute – is treated like the moon landing.

The reality on the ground is indeed stark. The overall capacity of state-run ports has remained unchanged for nearly 20 years. Contrary to government claims airports – apart from those in Hyderabad, Bangalore, Delhi and Mumbai – have not been upgraded since the 1960s, though passenger numbers have soared by about 20 per cent annually to nearly 60m in 2011. Railways rely on track laid during the British colonial era, with no lines dedicate to commercial use. Roads and power have enjoyed significant investment in recent years about US$ 50bn and 100bn respectively.

India’s automotive sector was among the first to be liberalized in the early 1990s, and the entry of multinational and domestic players sparked a competitive transformation. Today, India produces nearly three million small cars a year, of which about one-quarter are exported. Today global carmakers Ford, General Motors and Tata to open factories in Gujarat; India’s biggest infrastructure success story is the liberalization of the telecoms industry. Despite a scandal in which a minister has been charged with conspiracy, cheating, forgery of documents, abuse of official position and abetment, this created the world’s second largest mobile market with 900m subscribers. While millions lack 24 hours electricity and water, they now at least have 24 hour phone connections.

Apart from a metro system in the capital, the country has also completed 3,600 miles of highway connecting four of its biggest cities – a project that cost US$ 6bn and took 12 years to complete. However Gujarat and West Bengal – large states lying at western and eastern extremities of India are separated by more that geography, as much as anything else, they are set apart by infrastructural developments. Gujarat state in past one decade turned into the nation’s most invest-friendly state and also of its paved roads, large ports, constant power supply and minimal red tape. Gujarat’s primary achievement is the easing of land acquisition – often one of the main hurdles to infrastructural development.

The formula is simple: the state government negotiates with landowners on behalf of businesses to acquire the land. A fair price is agreed and companies then move to expand a port, build a highway or construct a power plant. All this has translated into real economic benefits. In past decade Gujarat has recorded on average double digit annual growth. A lack of reforms and transparency in West Bengal means that a state once home to the nations political and trade capital has not enjoyed the economic growth recorded by other such as Gujarat in the past decade. Last year it grew at 6.3 per cent, significantly below the national average of 8.5 percent.

To travel about 2,000 km east to West Bengal is to return to the ‘real India’. The basic urban infrastructure of the state – under communist rule for more than 30 years until last year, when a more moderate leftist party came to the power -   is in disarray. Roads, the railways, and power stations are decaying. The only way to bridge the gap between Gujarat and West Bengal, is to build more infrastructure. Without it, the disparity between them will grow wider and wider. The roads in rural areas where about 840m people live remain shoddy, while power generation has been crippled by rising fuel costs. Thousands of factories have to rely on their own generators, and 40 per cent of rural households lack electricity. It is evident to the common person who comes here and looks around – there’s obviously the need for more infrastructure, but regulatory uncertainty and a lack of reform have deterred foreign companies from coming to India.

Nobody seems to know what might finally force the government to push through the reforms that will enable it to give the citizens the infrastructure they so badly need…!!!