Raghuettan's Shashtipoorthi

 Raghuettan's Shashtipoorthi

Wit and Wisdom finds a Perfect Blend ... in this Erudite Gent

Way back in Jul 1996, Manju (my wife) and I, with (then) two year old son, Shaantnu in tow, shifted to the Naval Base in Ghatkopar (West). I had been selected by the Navy, to pursue MTech at IIT Bombay, and the Ghatkopar base had the nearest Naval Officers' family accommodation. That was one posting, where we had the good fortune of meeting and interacting with a multitude of our KV family, in Bombay. The fact that lots of them were proximally close  - Kumari cheriamma in Ghatkopar (East), Aniyanman and Narayanman in Chembur, Devi vallyamma  in Sion - meant that the meetings would be fairly regular. My tryst with destiny (aka Raghuettan; R'ettan, for short) started around that time.

R'ettan was then working out of Boisar, living in Bombay and driving a red Maruti (if I recall all three of those aspects correctly). We used to  catch up during birthdays of kids, weddings, wedding anniversaries, etc., but as is so often the case on such occasions, the exchanges used to be minimal and perfunctory. As I moved on to Delhi, these interactions petered out. Then came the news that the gent in question, had decided to  move his profession seamlessly, from corporate to campus. Finding a calling, different from the one that you're pursuing, is a difficult proposition per se; acting on it, by drawing the courage to do so, is even more tougher. But our man did it, and in style. At an age when most people would be happy, consolidating on their experiences to climb the hierarchical pecking order in their workplace, R'ettan jettisoned the mundane, jumped out of a comfort zone and landed into a completely new and esoteric domain ... that of academia and research. TAPMI was the choice and a PhD in the arcane field of marketing ayurvedic medicines, the result (OK, I maybe wrong; the topic may not be as arcane as I make it to be, but what the heck!, can't an ignoramus like me take a few liberties).

The rest, as they say, is history. TAPMI gave wings to R'ettan; apart from teaching and learning, he flew into the azure blue of administrative aspects of the university's functioning. As a Dean, as an HR functionary, and perhaps donning several other hats that I am unaware of, with conviction and distinction. His role as a recruiter of interns, and as a selector of  candidates for the TAPMI programs, brought him several times to Delhi, and that offered me great opportunities, to meet up, and to discuss and chat about the nuances and intricacies of an academic life, both on and off campus. Having been interacting very closely with the academia myself, over several years, as part of my tasking in the Navy, I got deep insights from R'ettan, that have stood me in good stead. Thanks a ton for that, R'ettan

TAPMI also gave vent to R'ettans artistic bent of mind; his enactment of Lord Mahabali, during a forlorn Onam, beset with the pandemic, is still vivid, in the minds of all of us. That impromptu show of his, full of ad-libs and "Raghuisms", was a class act. We expect more of those histrionics, Sir.

Our interactions intensified in 2017, when Pratyush, my younger son, landed a BTech admission at the Manipal Institute of Technology. The two-storied villa of R'ettan and Anita chechi in Manipal, was our "War-Room" and "Operations Centre", for Pratyush's admission process. That, and a quick visit very soon later, prompted by some unforeseen circumstances, showcased to Manju and I, the very famous, large-hearted hospitality streak of R'ettan. His intent, was supplemented and complemented in content, admirably, by the suffused ministrations of his better half, the very dear Anita chechi.

It would be an understatement to say that R'ettan is full of life. He exudes a certain joi de vivre .... not overtly exuberant,  but with covert,  subtle ebullience (My apologies; I couldn't put it across, any other way). His sense of humour,  his one-liners, his repartees, his narratives in our Wapp group, etc., are enlivening and downright entertaining ... and he does most of that by underplaying himself, in a most self-effacing manner. That's his hallmark, the attributes of a modest, realised soul.

His fetish for, and repository of, husband-wife jokes are legendary .... and I daresay, he has been getting away with it, in our KV group, thanks to the absence of his lady love as a member there ... or perhaps, he has his insurance cover well-buttoned up with his beloved, with regular princely premium payments (exotic vacations, designer jewelry, wardrobe replenishments, etc.), . There's a lesson worth learning there, for the wedding hopefuls in our midst; the ol' warhorses, may also benefit from that wisdom. Can we expect the munificence of a piece of that, as a return Shashtipoorthi gift from you, Professor?

While his exterior persona may display an easy going attitude, there is a mind and brain, sharp as a whip, that's ticking away continuously, conjuring up an assignment for his students here, or wondering about the next breakthrough strategy in marketing indigenous _Arishtams_ there, true to his pedigreed Ivy League education ... IIT Kharagpur, IRM Anand and TAPMI. As you hit the milestone event of Shashtipoorthi, here's wishing that your grey cells remain tickety-boo, and you continue to be in the pink of health, for training, mentoring, guiding and leading a legion of your students into the path of enlightenment. Best wishes also go out to your consort, the charming Anita chechi, and to Kamala valymma, Anju, Anish and Arjun, who make your world and your cocoon in Manipal, a most enchanting abode.

Godspeed, fair winds and following seas to you, R'ettan.  शं नो वरुण:

Mothers Day Musings

 Sunday Shenanigans - 09May21

Does God Exist

It's not a rhetorical question, neither a philosophical one, nor incongruous

Am sure, the theists in our midst would nod an affirmation without missing a beat; but my query is directed at the atheists and agnostics amongst us. So, to this group of erudite gentry, let me list out a few attributes of our Gods, that I've gathered through my desultory dabbling of our religious scriptures, holy books and spiritual writings ... and see if I can shake their faith a wee little bit

Love ... for you  ... selfless and unconditional, to the point of self-abnegation 

Dedication ... to your cause

Devotion ... to your duty

Discipline ... at times akin to a martinet, to mould you into a great person

Patience .. to take on all your tantrums, and still love you

 Forgiveness ... of all your misdeeds and misdemeanours

Imperturbable composure ... in the face of your meltdowns, display of tempers, talking back, etc.

Ferocity ... to protect you, when harm stalks or strikes you

Knowledge ... to educate you and impart wisdom to you

Bravery ... to shield you from dangers

Organising ability ... to cater to your disorganized lifestyle, right from birth ...

Gourmet cooking skills ... to pander to your hunger and glut

 Supporting, motivating, inspiring, encouraging ... to your every aspiration, ranging from the nonsensical to mundane to the magnificent 

Flexible ... to adjust to your whims and fancies, 

Strict (but fair) .. to shape your persona into a disciplined one 

Putting oneself last ... each time and every time, to address your, oftentimes, unreasonable demands

Rarely, if ever, taking a break ... so that you and others can take theirs

And several others .... all of them, centered around you ...

Btw, God may not be able to showcase many of the aforementioned qualities (Gourmet cooking skills for one ... taking a break, for another ... Sunday is His day of rest, as per the Bible ), for, He is not a MOTHER.  At best, He can play second fiddle to the indomitable, irrepressible, industrious spirit of a *Mom*, and perhaps, never ever replace HER, in body or in spirit 

My love and salutations to all the moms of the world, and specially mine ❤

May your breed beget and multiply, for, you're our _raison d'être_, the reason we're there ... and the reason we're, what we are

PS. Of course, *my/ our God* has her foibles ... but let's save that for another day 😉😃

PPS. I trust, my treatise would have answered the existential question of the atheists and agnostics, in some measure ...

~AlphaAlpha

Cupid Comes Calling - Valentine's Day 2021

 Cupid Comes Calling - Valentine's Day 2021

One has reached a stage in one's life, when one is really hard pressed to discern the brouhaha over Valentine's Day. So, some Tom, Dick or St Valentine, with vested interest, unleashed this unsavoury, unctuous unction on the hapless souls of this planet, in some 200 or 300 AD. Suddenly, Cupid, who till then was placed in the back of the beyond in the pantheon, catapulted, like a long forgotten Pakistani Ghazni missile (whose booster had hibernated owing to poor quality of its ammunition), into limelight , and started hogging all the attention, a la Rihaana (or Mia Khalifa, depending on your devious choice)

Notwithstanding that, I've been informed by highly placed reliable sources, that VD is good news in this Covid times, for the economy and commerce, more so e-com (don't get me wrong here; am referring to Valentine's Day as VD, and not the dreaded disease, which btw, may be a resultant consequence of indulging in indiscriminate indiscretions on VD). With a raft of roses, loads of jewellery, piles of flowers, heaps of cards and tons of trinkets set to be exchanged for cash (ok cards, or digi-cash), the banks can go laughing all the way ... to the banks 

Be that as it may, I take this opportunity to wish all my Valentines (would be, wannabe, would've been, would've loved to be ... and of course, the one who pipped everyone to the post), the very best on this red heart day ... am sure, all of them have made their peace with their piece (just as I and my beloved have), and are at peace with themselves and their better (or bitter) halves (just like my good lady and I)

Nevertheless, hope springs eternal; therefore, here's wishing that Cupid showers his arrows on your behalf, and that it pierces the heart(s) of your sweetheart(s).

Gotta go now  .... that's the annual VD call from my ex of yore. I had unsaved the number, lest the wifey should get a whiff, raising her suspicions ... पर कमबख्त number मिटा तो सकते हो, पर भुला नहीं सकते हो ...

Full disclosure 1 - This piece was vetted and ratified by my lady love, prior to her clearance for publishing

FD 2 - All the content in this post is completely nonsensical, not related to anyone living or dead (GBH/HS), and any resemblance, whatsoever, to anyone living or dead (GBH/HS), is entirely cock-n-bull

~AlphaAlpha

Hands Call to Pipe Down - My Life and Times in the Indian Navy

 “HANDS CALL” TO “PIPE DOWN”

(An ocean of memories lie between two innocuous dates;  24 Aug 1988 – my date of Commissioning in the Indian Navy (IN), and 31 Dec 2020 – my date of superannuation from IN)

In the Navy, Hands Call, is the first, early morning pipe played by the Duty Quartermaster, from the fo’c’sle or quarterdeck of the ship (or wherever the gangway is located). Using a Bo’s’n’s Pipe, he transmits it to every nook and corner of the ship, on the ship’s Main Broadcast (MB). This daily evolution plays with unfailing regularity across all Indian Naval ships, to wake up the in-living officers and sailors out of their slumber, and make them limber-up for their day ahead

The nine words/ phrases in bold in the paragraph above (amongst several other esoteric nautical terms), signify the difference, between the Naval personnel (the braves of the waves, as they are known), and the world that the rest inhabit. My Naval brethren would of course, make much, of what may seem gobbledegook to the rest (unless of course, they are Alistair McLean fans). I offer my sincere apologies to the non Naval fraternity, for that unavoidable oversight. However, since this piece is about my Naval reminiscences, I request to be excused, for being unsparing with naval lingo and expletives, the latter, within permissible limits of decent behaviour

My personal “hands call” to the majestic and gallant Indian Navy, arrived in the form of a registered letter from Naval Headquarters, inviting me to join the Naval Academy (Navac) at Indian Naval Ship (INS) Mandovi, in Goa. Buoyed by the wave of the“President’s Commission” (which I fondly carry with pride and honour), I quickly checked off the items to be carried to Navac, from a detailed list, very thoughtfully (and no doubt, painstakingly) crafted by a mandarin in SouthBlock/ Sena Bhavan in Delhi. I bundled the goods-n-chattel (my entire worldly possessions, at the commencement of my Naval life), neatly into a hold-all and trunk, and embarked to sail on, what I presumed, would be an experience of a lifetime. The Navy didn’t disappoint one wee little bit; in fact, 32 years, four months and one week later, I must confess, that the exciting voyage of discovery, learning and serendipity, has been beyond my wildest dreams

The Navy allowed me the luxury of being a part of a most illustrious, chivalrous, valiant and considerate Service. Inspiring me and challenging me, my taskings and tenures in the Navy, helped me (I believe) elevate myself personally as well. The ethos, values, traditions and culture imbibed by me, and by my family and friends, owing to their association with me, have (I believe), stood all of us in very good stead 

Thanks to the Navy, I had the privilege and fortune of serving with several iconic leaders. Their guidance and mentoring had taught me cardinal skills, that now allow me the opportunity of experiencing yet another stimulating flavour of national security. I bow my head in thanks to each one of them, for nurturing me in into who I am today

“Swallowing the anchor” (retiring from the Navy, for the rest of us), is a deeply poignant event for a Naval officer. During the course of my career in the Navy, I was blessed by the magnanimity and emotional investment of a legion of Naval officers and men, especially my course-mates from Navac, my ship-mates, my peer officers, the officers and men and women that I led and commanded, and their families. I hold very close to my heart, this elite band-of-brothers and sisters. During a particularly traumatic event in my life in Aug 1993, besides my family, it was their concern and thoughts that nourished me, and helped me through. That, I could bounce back, and continue serving the Navy for more than a quarter of a century thereafter, owes in no small measure, to the large-heartedness of this special set of honourable men and women, whose love and affection, I acknowledge with profound gratitude

Protecting the integrity and sovereignty of one’s nation, in unarguably, the finest Armed Forces in the country, has been an overwhelming and fulfilling experience. The fascinating details of some of that may perhaps remain unwritten and unsaid, owing to its classified content. For now, it’s time for “Pipe Down” for me, from the Navy (for the uninitiated, pipe down, is the last ‘pipe’ sounded on the ship’s MB, to remind the in-living personnel, to wind up their nocturnal activities,and lull them into catching their beauty sleep). But, as in life onboard, so also in real-life, the party continues. In fact, some of the most unforgettable parties onboard, are after pipe down … when, from the imbibing at a party, you’re mildly sozzled (is that an oxymoron?), can get off the formal uniform, gulp down your choicest, and make merry, without the inhibition of making a spectacle of yourself in front of the guests; I am sure, you get the drift. Personally, I intend to let that tradition continue

On the professional front, as they say in the Navy, “any mission, anytime, anywhere … we are ready to go”. However, from now on, it wouldn’t be in the glorious and pristine whites (or blacks or blues, or the myriad other uniforms) that one wears with honour and esteem, while treading into harm’s way, when Bharat Mata beckons to protect her respect and dignity. The allegiance remains, only the attire changes; the fluttering tri-colour will still pump up the josh and fervour; the _*jana gana mana*_, will still tug at the heart strings and induce intense ardour; the roar of the guns and missiles will still cause frisson; the brackish aroma onboard our warships will still excite and perhaps haunt you, .... except that, I won’t be in my whites, my shining armour. Be that as it may, I want to thank Lord Almighty, for the privilege of permitting me to proudly don that uniform, while guarding the oceans and conquering the seas for my motherland. It has left me with an ocean of indelible, nostalgic, emotional memories, that I’ll cherish for ever

As I bid adieu to the Navy, I doff my cap in respect and regard, to all those who helped me navigate my own little frigate of life, through waters choppy and calm, pristine and pestering, and blue and black (and shades in between). I wish you fair winds and following seas; may the Sea God be benevolent on all of us. शं नो वरुण:

~AlphaAlpha

Do "Times Change" .... or is it that "Time Changes" ... or is both

The Times they are A-Changin'

 The byline to the title of this post is of course, borrowed from one of the greatest hits of 1964, belted out by Bob Dylan, the winner of the Nobel prize for Literature in 2016. The panoply of the 'lit prize' victors boasts such luminaries as Ernest Hemingway, Rudyard Kipling, Bernard Shaw, our own guruji, Rabindranath Tagore, and more recently, high-brow giants like Gunter Grass, Orhan Pamuk, et al.

Traditionally, the PRIZE has been the sole preserve of writings like novels, short stories, poetry, drama, etc., that represented literary expression characterised by lyrical beauty, poetic intensity, and artistic power; hence the big names in the Valhalla. The fact that the selection committee had the temerity to step out of its comfort zone, and award the lit prize to a plebeian 'song writer' signifies that both the selectors, and the prize have come of age.

For sheer talent with language, Bob Dylan has no equal; but for a folk-musician to rub shoulders and join the roster of the winners till date - it was assumed that the snobbery of the Nobel would never let that occur. That, it has indeed happened, is an acknowledgment of the fact that art forms can be varied, expansive and modern. Further, it is an endorsement that "times indeed are a changin'." The quintessential proof of the pudding, ... in this day and age, to access a literature Nobel laureate's work , you rush to Amazon; to access Bob Dylan's work, you hit YouTube or iTunes!

Whatever be the compulsions of the times, the award being conferred on Bob Dylan, whose prolific versatility spreads across blues, folk, and rock-n-roll, would definitely be music to the ears of all his fans - yours truly included.