Deepawali is that time of the year when one opens up the closed drawers and boxes to check what is to be retained and what to give away. It is also an opportunity for me to see the old photograph albums and relive those good days.
And so it happened that going through my NDA album, I chanced upon a photograph which has seen 28 Deepawalis pass. My kid did not recognise me in the snap.
The snap has Laxmi Narayana Sahu, Ashok Karadi and self in the foreground and some other cadets in the background. The occasion is Deepawali celebration in our Squadron.
Sahu was a good boxer and a very good cross-country runner. I remember that he used to help me in practising for the physical training tests, at which I was not good. Barely used to clear the mandatory tests. Sahu always encouraged me whenever I showed signs of giving up. He had got commissioned into the Madras Regiment. He died under unfortunate circumstances.
Ashok Karadi was a great athlete and he used to sketch as well. In fact I still have a sketch of Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore he made for me. Karadi joined the Navy and went on to become a navigator in Naval aviation. Karadi was in an IL38 which was involved in an accident with another aircraft during a flypast commemorating 25 years of their unit. He did not survive.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Monday, June 13, 2011
Adventures in the Culinary Domain
Cooking is great fun. More so if you are the 'experimenting' type. One late afternoon, my wife had taken the kids out to the market. The hot weather suddenly gave way to cool winds and the rain came lashing. The view from our balcony was beautiful. Sheets of rain being blown away by the wind. The poplar trees, in front of our house, swinging wildly enjoying themselves.
Spoke to the kids. They were likely to get delayed.
Ah, what an opportunity to impress them, again, with my sense of culinary adventure. Checked the refrigerator. Chicken breast pieces available. Other ingredients like onion,tomato and ginger-garlic not available. Scanned the cupboard for possible ingredients. Found mango and chilli pickle. Vodka available in the bar. The dish started cooking in my mind. Drunk Achari Chicken.
Ingredients
4 chicken breast pieces
4 tbsp mango and chilli pickle
Ginger paste
2 lemon
120ml vodka
1tbsp oil.
Zeera, rye, pepper etc
Oregano and red pepper
Salt to taste
Process
Mash the mango and chilli pickle together in a dish ensuring that the hard mango core is separated. Mix with 3 tbsp of ginger paste. This is the marinade.
Wash chicken pieces properly and rub the marinade on to both surfaces. Put the pieces in a hollow dish. Add vodka. Squeeze the lemon pieces and add salt to taste.
Leave aside for 90 minutes.
While the chicken is being marinated, pour yourself a large vodka in a glass. Add a dash of lemon, salt, a slice of green chilli, black pepper flakes. Pour chilled soda and 4 cubes of ice. Top it up with whatever is a available, a sprig of coriander or mint. Drink it leisurely while reading a book.
Repeat the process outlined in the above paragraph twicw, oops.. you can go slow and do it just once also. Wait for the rain to subside.
The chicken is marinated by now and ready to be cooked.
Heat oil in a pan. Add jeera and rye. Fry till red. Add chicken pieces. Let it simmer.
The kids call up. It has stopped raining. They are on their way back. Ask them to get onion.
Keep adding water to ensure that the masala does not stick to the bottom. Turn the pieces at regular intervals to ensure consistent cooking. Let the chicken cook in its own juice. Keep sipping vodka regularly to ensure that your drool does not fall into the dish while stirring.
The bell rings. Kids are back. Pour a large drink before opening the door. You have to make it appear that you have just made a drink. Do that, but the wife has a way of knowing the count.
The aroma wafts out from the kitchen. The elder kids sniffs and says,"Dad you are cooking achari chicken." I wonder how did she know. What the hell!! She should know. She is doing hotel management and watches all the TV programmes on travel & cooking.
The chicken is nearly cooked. Add oregano and red chilli flakes. Let it simmer for another fifteen minutes.
Since onion is now available, fry some diced onion.Serve the chicken on a bed of fried diced onion. Garnish with the leftover coriander/mint leaves. Serve with toasted bread.
Ask your wife to call up your sister to talk about this dish. Call up your M-i-L to tell her how caring you are.
Ensure that the kids also convey your culinary accomplishment to whoever cares to listen...
Spoke to the kids. They were likely to get delayed.
Ah, what an opportunity to impress them, again, with my sense of culinary adventure. Checked the refrigerator. Chicken breast pieces available. Other ingredients like onion,tomato and ginger-garlic not available. Scanned the cupboard for possible ingredients. Found mango and chilli pickle. Vodka available in the bar. The dish started cooking in my mind. Drunk Achari Chicken.
Ingredients
4 chicken breast pieces
4 tbsp mango and chilli pickle
Ginger paste
2 lemon
120ml vodka
1tbsp oil.
Zeera, rye, pepper etc
Oregano and red pepper
Salt to taste
Process
Mash the mango and chilli pickle together in a dish ensuring that the hard mango core is separated. Mix with 3 tbsp of ginger paste. This is the marinade.
Wash chicken pieces properly and rub the marinade on to both surfaces. Put the pieces in a hollow dish. Add vodka. Squeeze the lemon pieces and add salt to taste.
Leave aside for 90 minutes.
While the chicken is being marinated, pour yourself a large vodka in a glass. Add a dash of lemon, salt, a slice of green chilli, black pepper flakes. Pour chilled soda and 4 cubes of ice. Top it up with whatever is a available, a sprig of coriander or mint. Drink it leisurely while reading a book.
Repeat the process outlined in the above paragraph twicw, oops.. you can go slow and do it just once also. Wait for the rain to subside.
The chicken is marinated by now and ready to be cooked.
Heat oil in a pan. Add jeera and rye. Fry till red. Add chicken pieces. Let it simmer.
The kids call up. It has stopped raining. They are on their way back. Ask them to get onion.
Keep adding water to ensure that the masala does not stick to the bottom. Turn the pieces at regular intervals to ensure consistent cooking. Let the chicken cook in its own juice. Keep sipping vodka regularly to ensure that your drool does not fall into the dish while stirring.
The bell rings. Kids are back. Pour a large drink before opening the door. You have to make it appear that you have just made a drink. Do that, but the wife has a way of knowing the count.
The aroma wafts out from the kitchen. The elder kids sniffs and says,"Dad you are cooking achari chicken." I wonder how did she know. What the hell!! She should know. She is doing hotel management and watches all the TV programmes on travel & cooking.
The chicken is nearly cooked. Add oregano and red chilli flakes. Let it simmer for another fifteen minutes.
Since onion is now available, fry some diced onion.Serve the chicken on a bed of fried diced onion. Garnish with the leftover coriander/mint leaves. Serve with toasted bread.
Ask your wife to call up your sister to talk about this dish. Call up your M-i-L to tell her how caring you are.
Ensure that the kids also convey your culinary accomplishment to whoever cares to listen...
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Recently I read a news report that Godrej&Boyce have stopped production of the manual typewriters. Following this report were columns and more columns with elegies for this great device which witnessed great thoughts being transferred to paper for the consumption of the masses. The transfer was accompanied by loud clicks, clatter, grrs, whhrrs and what have you, depending on the vintage and the maintenance of the machine. Scribes went ecstatic over these sounds too. To some of them it was rhapsodical. For others, a noisy machine which disturbed one's afternoon siesta. To many in government offices it was a device which could not let you take a nap at your table. Others were lulled to sleep if the typist was an accomplished one. Guess why? Because his typing was rhythmic.
As a youngster growing up in Delhi and Calcutta of the seventies, I used to walk by a number of shorthand and typing institutes on my way to school. There were young hopefuls clutching their shorthand notebooks walking into the tin-shed with a sole pedestal fan whirring away, to pick up a skill which would give them access to some secure secretarial or clerical job. The 'awakening' of the middle class was yet to happen.
By the eighties, the young hopefuls of seventies had turned into seasoned secretaries and clerks.
Then came the 286 with DOS and Wordstar became the latest buzzword in all government offices. Computers were being purchased by truckloads. To train the huge army of clerks was a task in itself. Automation committees were formed in almost all organisations. Computer training became the favourite horse. Everybody wanted to ride it.
Technology was upgraded before you could even master the earlier version. Change was imminent. There were some who saw the inevitabilty of computers replacing typewriters and they gladly embraced the new machine. They became the cynosure of all officials. They would strut about the office like prize-cocks. There were others who believed in the invincibility of the typewriter and continued to hack away at it. There were also days of irregular electric supply and the UPS would soon be beeping in protest. The typewriters devotees rejoiced at such moments. The faith of the unfaithful in the Remingtons, Godrejs, Facits and Underwoods would be restored.
Come the early nineties, the typing institutes started yielding space to the computer training institutes on the streets. A number of small entrepreneurs, sold off what they could to invest in a computer and training and thereafter start their own coaching centre. The computers moved on from 286 to 386 to 486. Typewriters were still popular and continued to be produced. The complex commands to be remembered for Wordstar deterred many people from learning the computer.
The launch of Windows95 changed everything. It was so user friendly and the help menu motivated a large number of people like myself to learn how to use a computer. The power situation improved, be it by regular supply or back-up, the reliance on computers increased. The enhancement in allocation of IT funds saw computers being purchased instead of typewriters. The writing was on the wall in bold types. The typewriters were typing out purchase orders for computers.
To start with, all computers were kept in a computer room which was airconditioned. If you had to work, you had to go to the computer room.Or the boss's office. The computer room was like a holy shrine. You had to take off your shoes before entering. Talk in hushed tones to the operator. Cajole him to type your document or make your presentation.
As more ruggedised machines came into the market, the desktops started replacing the typewriters. The typing ribbon started going off the shelves and the dot matrix printer ribbons taking the vacant space. I remember the excitement when the first inkjet printer was bought in our unit. We all gathered in the CO's office and saw the logo of our unit printed on a paper, in colour, coming out noiselessly from the recesses of the inkjet printer.
The typewriter was forgotten.
As a youngster growing up in Delhi and Calcutta of the seventies, I used to walk by a number of shorthand and typing institutes on my way to school. There were young hopefuls clutching their shorthand notebooks walking into the tin-shed with a sole pedestal fan whirring away, to pick up a skill which would give them access to some secure secretarial or clerical job. The 'awakening' of the middle class was yet to happen.
By the eighties, the young hopefuls of seventies had turned into seasoned secretaries and clerks.
Then came the 286 with DOS and Wordstar became the latest buzzword in all government offices. Computers were being purchased by truckloads. To train the huge army of clerks was a task in itself. Automation committees were formed in almost all organisations. Computer training became the favourite horse. Everybody wanted to ride it.
Technology was upgraded before you could even master the earlier version. Change was imminent. There were some who saw the inevitabilty of computers replacing typewriters and they gladly embraced the new machine. They became the cynosure of all officials. They would strut about the office like prize-cocks. There were others who believed in the invincibility of the typewriter and continued to hack away at it. There were also days of irregular electric supply and the UPS would soon be beeping in protest. The typewriters devotees rejoiced at such moments. The faith of the unfaithful in the Remingtons, Godrejs, Facits and Underwoods would be restored.
Come the early nineties, the typing institutes started yielding space to the computer training institutes on the streets. A number of small entrepreneurs, sold off what they could to invest in a computer and training and thereafter start their own coaching centre. The computers moved on from 286 to 386 to 486. Typewriters were still popular and continued to be produced. The complex commands to be remembered for Wordstar deterred many people from learning the computer.
The launch of Windows95 changed everything. It was so user friendly and the help menu motivated a large number of people like myself to learn how to use a computer. The power situation improved, be it by regular supply or back-up, the reliance on computers increased. The enhancement in allocation of IT funds saw computers being purchased instead of typewriters. The writing was on the wall in bold types. The typewriters were typing out purchase orders for computers.
To start with, all computers were kept in a computer room which was airconditioned. If you had to work, you had to go to the computer room.Or the boss's office. The computer room was like a holy shrine. You had to take off your shoes before entering. Talk in hushed tones to the operator. Cajole him to type your document or make your presentation.
As more ruggedised machines came into the market, the desktops started replacing the typewriters. The typing ribbon started going off the shelves and the dot matrix printer ribbons taking the vacant space. I remember the excitement when the first inkjet printer was bought in our unit. We all gathered in the CO's office and saw the logo of our unit printed on a paper, in colour, coming out noiselessly from the recesses of the inkjet printer.
The typewriter was forgotten.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A Lesson in Sharing
The Navratras are a time for worship, abstaining from the good things of life ( read non-veg and booze). Two days, Ashtmi and Navmi also witness young girls carrying themselves from one household to another decked up in their finest. They are the 'kanchaks', representing the Goddess. They are worshipped by the lady of the house and thereafter served delicious food and sweets and sent off with Rs11 as a parting gift.
During one such Navratra, I happened to be at my parent's place. My mother had called some of these little girls. 5-10 year olds. As it turned out, there being no kids of that age group within the colony, the caretaker mobilised the children of housemaids and from a nearby 'basti'.
The girls came. Shy. Tentative. The younger ones holding the hands of their elder sisters. A few of them got their little brothers too.
After the customary 'puja', my mother made them sit down to eat.She served them the traditional fare. Puri, chana, aloo sabzi and kheer and laddoo in the paper plates. What happened next really amazed me.
The girls had a bite and then folded their plates with the food inside. My mother asked," Khana achcha nahin laga?". "Nahin Aunty, yeh ham ghar ja kar sabke saath khayenge", pat came the reply from the eldest. She was all of about nine years. We were amazed at this display of concern and the ethos of sharing imbibed by these kids.
And this was not all.
One girl, about four years old piped up. "Aunty, muzhe ek aur laddoo dijiye. Meri friend ko koi nahin bulata, uske liye le jaoongi". My mother asked, " Kya naam hai aapki friend ka?". "Nasreen", came the reply.
We were deeply touched. My mother made them sit down and eat and then packed all the food that had been prepared to be taken by them to their homes. And the four year old got all the laddoos which she carefully held in her little hands.
I could not help wonder how many of us have been able to instill this feeling of sharing amongst our kids?
During one such Navratra, I happened to be at my parent's place. My mother had called some of these little girls. 5-10 year olds. As it turned out, there being no kids of that age group within the colony, the caretaker mobilised the children of housemaids and from a nearby 'basti'.
The girls came. Shy. Tentative. The younger ones holding the hands of their elder sisters. A few of them got their little brothers too.
After the customary 'puja', my mother made them sit down to eat.She served them the traditional fare. Puri, chana, aloo sabzi and kheer and laddoo in the paper plates. What happened next really amazed me.
The girls had a bite and then folded their plates with the food inside. My mother asked," Khana achcha nahin laga?". "Nahin Aunty, yeh ham ghar ja kar sabke saath khayenge", pat came the reply from the eldest. She was all of about nine years. We were amazed at this display of concern and the ethos of sharing imbibed by these kids.
And this was not all.
One girl, about four years old piped up. "Aunty, muzhe ek aur laddoo dijiye. Meri friend ko koi nahin bulata, uske liye le jaoongi". My mother asked, " Kya naam hai aapki friend ka?". "Nasreen", came the reply.
We were deeply touched. My mother made them sit down and eat and then packed all the food that had been prepared to be taken by them to their homes. And the four year old got all the laddoos which she carefully held in her little hands.
I could not help wonder how many of us have been able to instill this feeling of sharing amongst our kids?
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Save Nationalism
An article by Lewis M Simons, a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist, in a recent issue of Newsweek magazine on the ascendancy of Islamic fundamentalism is extremely alarming, to say the least.
Simons, who has co-authored a book-“ The Next Front: South-East Asia and the Road to Global Peace with Islam” elaborates his observations made during his recent travel to the South East Asian region. He has observed that 40 years ago, the Muslims of SE Asia were renowned for their moderation. Today, there is a subtle shift towards radicalism. Fundamentalists, slowly but surely, are getting to impose a greater role for Sharia, or religious law, not just in family life but in the affairs of the nation.
Simons goes on to point out that he found the drift throughout the region’s five major Islamic cultures; Indonesia, Malaysia, the southern Philippines, southern Thailand and Singapore .
With Pakistan, to our west in a state of deep turmoil, and these conditions to our east, India is under a real threat of being caught in pincer by radical Islamism. How are we as a nation preparing ourselves to meet this clear and imminent danger. While the government of the day may evolve policies, it is our duty as citizens of the country to observe certain basic tenets to ensure that nationalism is not subverted by any form of fundamentalism.
Let us all safeguard indiscrimination by implementing it in our respective spheres of influence. Let us not fall prey to the parochialism being propagated by political bigots.
We have to ensure that the voice of moderation is not allowed to be suppressed and the fundamentalist voice is not given the amplification it seeks.
Let us all vow to keep our religious beliefs confined to our personal realms. And this would hold true for members of all religious denominations. Let us acknowledge and practice the primacy of nationalism in letter and spirit.
Let us also see through the diabolocal shenanigans of the political parties which encourage casteism by way pseudo-secularism and expose them for what they are.
Simons, who has co-authored a book-“ The Next Front: South-East Asia and the Road to Global Peace with Islam” elaborates his observations made during his recent travel to the South East Asian region. He has observed that 40 years ago, the Muslims of SE Asia were renowned for their moderation. Today, there is a subtle shift towards radicalism. Fundamentalists, slowly but surely, are getting to impose a greater role for Sharia, or religious law, not just in family life but in the affairs of the nation.
Simons goes on to point out that he found the drift throughout the region’s five major Islamic cultures; Indonesia, Malaysia, the southern Philippines, southern Thailand and Singapore .
With Pakistan, to our west in a state of deep turmoil, and these conditions to our east, India is under a real threat of being caught in pincer by radical Islamism. How are we as a nation preparing ourselves to meet this clear and imminent danger. While the government of the day may evolve policies, it is our duty as citizens of the country to observe certain basic tenets to ensure that nationalism is not subverted by any form of fundamentalism.
Let us all safeguard indiscrimination by implementing it in our respective spheres of influence. Let us not fall prey to the parochialism being propagated by political bigots.
We have to ensure that the voice of moderation is not allowed to be suppressed and the fundamentalist voice is not given the amplification it seeks.
Let us all vow to keep our religious beliefs confined to our personal realms. And this would hold true for members of all religious denominations. Let us acknowledge and practice the primacy of nationalism in letter and spirit.
Let us also see through the diabolocal shenanigans of the political parties which encourage casteism by way pseudo-secularism and expose them for what they are.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Understanding the client's needs
I was watching a movie on Julius Reuter, the news agency pioneer. He was the first one to use telegraph for transmitting news. He established the Reuters News service and approached the leading newspapers of the day in London to buy the news from him. A couple of the papers agreed to carry his news when he offered it free for a month on a trial basis. The Times scoffed at the idea. They said that it difficult to put the credibility of the newspaper into someone else's hands.
It so happened that towards the end of the Crimean War, the King of France was to make the announcement of a cease-fire. Reuter met the King and conviced him to give a copy of his speech in advance. He got it translated from French to English and while the speech was being delivered by the King, Reuter was having it transmitted over the wires to London. Moment the King finished delivering his speech, Reuter was handing over the copy to all his subscribers in London.His news agency was the first one to break the news of a ceasefire.
Now what Reuter did is a lesson in building relationships for all businesses. He gave a copy of the speech to The Times,whose editor had insulted him, also. He dismissed this action of his saying that it would have made a great paper like The Times look small if they did not carry the news. The concern for The Times' reputation greatly endeared him to the Editor and they went on to become great friends.
Lesson for all businesses is that we have to understand not only the tangible but the intangible needs too of our clients.
It so happened that towards the end of the Crimean War, the King of France was to make the announcement of a cease-fire. Reuter met the King and conviced him to give a copy of his speech in advance. He got it translated from French to English and while the speech was being delivered by the King, Reuter was having it transmitted over the wires to London. Moment the King finished delivering his speech, Reuter was handing over the copy to all his subscribers in London.His news agency was the first one to break the news of a ceasefire.
Now what Reuter did is a lesson in building relationships for all businesses. He gave a copy of the speech to The Times,whose editor had insulted him, also. He dismissed this action of his saying that it would have made a great paper like The Times look small if they did not carry the news. The concern for The Times' reputation greatly endeared him to the Editor and they went on to become great friends.
Lesson for all businesses is that we have to understand not only the tangible but the intangible needs too of our clients.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Enabling Environment
I wish to express my views about the fact that an 'enabling environment' brings out the best in people. I was discussing this in the context of a leading school with my sister.
She was telling me of this school which has a primary wing, a junior school from the IInd to the VIst standard and the senior wing.
The primary wing comes across as one full of fun where, the teachers despite having to work even at home to complete the school tasks are ever ready to take on new projects. They have great team work and understanding amongst themselves. Playing the blame game is not known to them.
The management felt that the 'life' which was there in the primary section was missing in the junior wing. The teachers were not 'charged' enough. So one teacher was shifted to the junior wing from the primary.
Now this lady who was a 'livewire' in the primary, has become 'earthed' in the junior school. She has lost that sense of 'joi de vivre', which was her forte. The management is now contemplating shifting a couple of teachers from the primary wing to junior school to achieve critical mass for enforcing a change.
I was sharing with my sister that it is the 'enabling environment' provided in the primary section which has led to teachers taking ownership of various aspects of school activities and driving them. While their boss drives them hard, they are free to vent their disagreements and it is taken in the right spirit and the boss also joins in the fun & banter. The teachers enjoy their work. The students don't want to miss school.
The atmosphere in the junior school appeared to be stifling. And hence over a period of time the spark had disappeared. The teachers were shy of taking ownership.
In my opinion, the management would do well to understand what makes the primary section 'tick'. Was it only the teachers or their head also. Or was it the fun environment/culture that had been created over a period of time. Or, was there a case for identifying the distinctive attributes required in a teacher for each level of classes and building a team accordingly.
To my mind, in any organisation, unless there is transfer of ownership, the organisation cannot flourish. It has to provide an 'enabling environment' to bring out the best in each employee.
Even roses can be grown in the deserts but the soil has to be prepared right alongwith climate control. We have also tigers breeding in the zoo. The jury is still out on whether it is a success or a failure.
She was telling me of this school which has a primary wing, a junior school from the IInd to the VIst standard and the senior wing.
The primary wing comes across as one full of fun where, the teachers despite having to work even at home to complete the school tasks are ever ready to take on new projects. They have great team work and understanding amongst themselves. Playing the blame game is not known to them.
The management felt that the 'life' which was there in the primary section was missing in the junior wing. The teachers were not 'charged' enough. So one teacher was shifted to the junior wing from the primary.
Now this lady who was a 'livewire' in the primary, has become 'earthed' in the junior school. She has lost that sense of 'joi de vivre', which was her forte. The management is now contemplating shifting a couple of teachers from the primary wing to junior school to achieve critical mass for enforcing a change.
I was sharing with my sister that it is the 'enabling environment' provided in the primary section which has led to teachers taking ownership of various aspects of school activities and driving them. While their boss drives them hard, they are free to vent their disagreements and it is taken in the right spirit and the boss also joins in the fun & banter. The teachers enjoy their work. The students don't want to miss school.
The atmosphere in the junior school appeared to be stifling. And hence over a period of time the spark had disappeared. The teachers were shy of taking ownership.
In my opinion, the management would do well to understand what makes the primary section 'tick'. Was it only the teachers or their head also. Or was it the fun environment/culture that had been created over a period of time. Or, was there a case for identifying the distinctive attributes required in a teacher for each level of classes and building a team accordingly.
To my mind, in any organisation, unless there is transfer of ownership, the organisation cannot flourish. It has to provide an 'enabling environment' to bring out the best in each employee.
Even roses can be grown in the deserts but the soil has to be prepared right alongwith climate control. We have also tigers breeding in the zoo. The jury is still out on whether it is a success or a failure.
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