Audacious Bankers

A teacher working in Maldives gently pushed open the glass door and slipped into the Anchal Branch of Canara Bank, together with his brother, a cadet in the Indian Naval Academy Ezhimala. They stood elegantly before the BM’s cabin awaiting the exit of another gentleman inside. Minutes passed as they signed and exchanged a few papers.

Both of them politely entered the cabin after the gentleman moved out. The B.M was looking down on some papers and only his head sprinkled with white hue was visible. They took their seats obeying the gesture of the downward looking man, and waited for his work to get over, so that they can talk to him face to face. But the pages were being turned over and over and his chin was still nuzzling his chest. Then a coarse voice that gushed down inquired for the purpose of their visit. The teacher said, “Sir, we came for two purposes. First to open an account in your bank and the next was to apply for an education loan”. “We can’t simply give educational loans. It is only for students who are admitted in the merit list” growled the downward looking man. “We have brought the credentials of the student, please have a look at it and decide” replied the customers. “I can’t say anything unless I see the student. Let the student and his father come here once” said the voice reflected upward from the table glass of the BM. “I don’t have time now, please don’t disturb me “, it continued, bringing an end to the discussion. The dejected customers calmly cleared off the cabin annoyed and insulted.

How audacious the public servants are!!!! We couldn’t see his face at least, they grumbled while starting their bike. And the disheartened teacher was this humble self.

Into the Blues

Yet another Holy Week is in progress; four days past the Palm Sunday; halleluiahs and hosannas have tailed off; the Maundy Thursday, the precursor of Good Friday dawns.

All my belongings were packed up; the bags were weighed and locked; name slips were stuck to; ticket, passport and work permit were checked okay. Phone bells rang; picked up and put down saying “thanks for the wishes and keep me in your prayers”.

The whole family had a prayerful gathering. Heart beats orchestrated the hymn. A few beads of tears rolled down the cheeks; splattered and splashed. Felt the warmth of the parental lips on my forehead. Got into the taxi throbbing outside; the doors were slammed and we headed towards Thiruvananthapuram. My journey into the blues thus began.

It was almost 12.45 pm when the taxi glided to a halt in front of the entrance of the International Terminal of Thiruvananthapuram airport. The big bag and the carton box were put on a trolley while the laptop and lunch hanged on my left shoulder. Attempt was made to move forward. But the trolley did not come my way. Left the disobedient trolley and dragged my luggage towards the entry door.

A stocky uniformed man with a long rifle stopped me and asked for the documents. A permitting nod was given after a quick glance of the passport and ticket. Airport door opened before me for the first time in life. I swaggered towards the Island Airways counter and got my boarding pass. As per the instructions got from the counter I moved towards the counter where my luggage was weighed and tagged. Being relieved of my luggage I climbed towards the waiting room.

The time was almost 1.30 pm. Another two more hours for the long awaited take off. The lunch pack was opened on my lap; had half of it and that sufficed. Excitement of the first foreign trip did not keep me on the seat for long. Moved from seat to seat; started pacing about; rang up a few friends and relatives to say a final bye. Time seemed to be longer.

Some others to the same destination were identified in the meanwhile. Their movements were observed carefully, to follow the suit. Imitation and emulation are ways out for the ignorant. A few minutes later I saw some of them taking their handbag and moving towards a door. Thinking that it is time to board the flight, I brought up the rear. But it was just another waiting room. Restlessly rested on a chair there for another long hour. No TV channel could grab my attention. Millions of thoughts flashed through the mind, filling it with hopes and fears.

It was 3.00 pm. The Island Airways passengers queued up at a bus door. The bus headed towards a little plane waiting at a visible distance. We could see the passengers getting down the bus and mounting the flight. The bus returned for the second trip. Together with the rest of my co-passengers, I boarded the bus gazing at the flight. The bus started rolling. The blue under the white top of the fuselage seemed brighter and clearer. The cavorting dolphins behind the nose of the aircraft caught my sight. The minute in the bus is over. We alighted besides the dolphins and had a curious round around the plane before embarking. A cute young hostess in blues welcomed me with a mechanical grin and looking at the ticket showed me the way towards the second window seat from the cockpit. I pleasantly occupied my seat with pride.

My eyes were always engaged in surveying the premises of the airport and the aircrafts in the vicinity. Calls were made to my parents and close friends to share my excitement while the propeller beside me started rotating. A few minutes passed before it moved. A few gigantic planes and airport busses drifted past the window. It took a turn and drone turned into a rumble. Finally we are in the sky above the Arabian Sea with in seconds. The Island Airways flight carrying us sped through the floating clouds heading towards Male International Airport in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

Reign of Numbers

0101101001……… the elements by which the modern world is made of. Pythagoreans are no more wrong. Time has proved that numbers are the only realities. Thanks to information technology and boom in business, world has turned to be digital. Hence all walks of life have begun their struggle for survival; first to fit into the digital world and then to be the fittest. Numbers alone are the criteria to evaluate the success of any enterprise. Digital technology is the best technology; the firm which has made maximum profit is the best firm; the employee who has brought maximum profit to the company is the best employee; the entrepreneur who has made maximum profit is the best entrepreneur; the student who is placed at the highest salary is the best student; the richest man is the most successful person……… Uncountable achievements never count.

So called abstract world of art and aesthetics is no exception in adapting themselves to the binary system. Dutch scientist Nicu Sebe from the university of Amsterdam, has developed an algorithm to dissect the enigmatic smile of Monalisa, with the assistance of researchers at the Beckman Institute at the University of Illinois. They have come to the conclusion that the classic smile consists of 82.67% happiness, 9.17% disgust, 5.81% fear and 2.19% anger.

A few questions that springs forth in my mind at this juncture are: Who is the best husband/wife/mother/father/brother/sister? How can we devise a software to dissect the conjugal/parental/fraternal love? How can we make it measurable? A time may come when a son/daughter makes a digital analysis of his/her parents’ love and says you loved me 35% which is worth 5 lakhs rupees and my duty to you will be over if I pay that amount back.

Bloody Kannur

‘March is the cruelest of months, breeding violence out of violence, mixing hatred and politics’ As the summer sun dries the brooks and rivers, blood streams springs forth. Two legged brutes run hither and thither desperately craving to quench their thirst for blood. Frightened preys flee with their life. Corpses scattered in the public places: sliced, chopped, stabbed. Blood oozing out from the soulless bodies forms gory streams beside the roads. Smiles disappear. Hearts throb. Sobs turn to screams and yells. Tear streams merge into blood streams flooding the roads. Twilight spreads; funeral pyres dwindles; plots starts anew; darkness thickens; hours pass; another gory day dawns…………………………..
Kannur= Name of a place in North Kerala. I wrote this in response to the political violence that was happening there at that time.

After My First Night in Mumbai

The lazy sun of Thane woke up very late. Its blazing rays peeped through the window panes of my hotel room and pierced my eyelids. I jumped out of the bed; grabbed my mobile. No missed calls, no message. Oh! It is 6:55 am. Discussing with my travel mate set a plan for the day. ………….. By nine we left the hotel for Dadar. It was my first experience of famous Mumbai Metro Trains. We managed to get a ticket to Dadar from Thane railway station. Thane, one among the first two Indian witnesses of rail service has gone a long way. The train awaited us in Platform 5. Boarded the train and occupied a seat. My friend opted to stand, entrusting me to keep his huge bag. Soon a crowd flowed into the compartment. The hissing python started accelerating with thousands of humans in its belly. It passed station after station with short pauses; spitting a few and swallowing another multitude. It cared for none; nor did my belly mates.

I was jammed to my seat. Struggled and wriggled to stretch my leg. Somehow I was on my feet. One small bag was passed to my standing friend; writhed, twitched and squirmed to move a few steps towards the door. Two bags trapped in the crowd made futile attempts to drag me back. My impatient attempts to move towards the exit too were futile. The heave of my little heart increased its pace. If not able to get down in Dadar ……..????? Several plans flashed through by mind. Suddenly the Python started decelerating again. It came to a halt. The sign board DADAR fell on my retina. ………… ………………………………………. I was on the platform carrying two bags. What happened in between? Tabula rasa. I was told by friend that I was pushed out by the mad crowd. Thanks to the automated urban crowd, I did not have to feel the weight of the heavy bags.

It was almost 11 am. Two more hours left for the arrival of my train to Hyderabad. Trains boomed in and whistled out. Crowds suddenly appeared and vanished with the trains. As the train whizzes out the crowd gets dissolved into the all embracing metro. As I watched the mechanized movement of the crowd Hyderabad Express hissed in and swallowed me.

Altruism: A Corporate as well as a Societal Necessity

Soft skill training, the corporate version of former personality training, is catching up the market with an unprecedented pace. Major companies spend huge sums to equip their employees with soft skills. At this juncture a clear and precise understanding of the term is necessary for any institution which provides human resources for corporates.

The term soft sills is often explained with the aid of a list of inter personal and intra personal qualities. Generally sufficient attention is given to the intrapersonal aspects like self-esteem, ambition, motivation etc.

When it comes to interpersonal level, only surface layer qualities like communication skills, leadership skills, negotiation skills and the like are dealt with. Altruistic attitude which is to be the basis of all interpersonal aspects of soft skills is either forgotten or taken for granted. A person with an altruistic attitude will naturally be serviceable and will respect and listen to others. It is natural for him/her to sympathize and empathize with the problems of others.
Once the trainee has become altruistic a major part of the job of the soft skill trainer is over. What the trainer has to do is to provide him sufficient and proper language to express him/herself and to train his thought process to make it more logical and lucid.

Hence soft skill trainers have to pay more attention to develop an altruistic attitude in the trainees. In the context of growing individualistic culture, more emphasis on the altruistic attitude has become a corporate as well as societal necessity.