Travel to happiness

There is a famous proverb: “Man travels all over the world looking for happiness, only to find it at home.”  The mystic poet Kabir Das had also said something similar about searching everywhere for God and then finding out that He resides in your own home.

I have always been a critical admirer of proverbs and quotes of famous men.  But I do not blindly follow and applaud them.  There are times when I find some very popular proverbs either irrelevant, senseless, or even exactly opposite of what I believe in.  When I identify such a quote, I just ignore it and move on.  But I find so many people who blindly read, repeat, forward and quote to others, without giving a deep thought to their relevance – more so if it is a quote by a “foreigner” with an impressive sounding Western name.

With due respect to many great people (who may often say great pearls of wisdom, but not always so), I think we should introspect and evaluate the relevance or usefulness of a quote.  Going again to the proverb at the top, is it necessary that we come back after our explorations and find happiness at home?  What if we have grouchy family members, or if we are going through stress at home for various reasons?  We can perhaps find happiness when we explore beyond and see how others are dealing with their life situations. 

Travel is a great education in itself and even a source of joy.

Where does Aab belong?

“Where do you belong to ?” People often ask this question to new persons they meet. Whenever someone asks this to Aab, he is puzzled. He would  perhaps be able to answer the “where” if he knew the meaning of “belong”. On the one side, he firmly believes that everyone and everything in this universe is connected. On the other, he wonders who belongs to who. When we cannot even own the air we breathe, how can places own us ?

   Aab sits on a patch of ground and wonders whether he can belong to it. He walks on a road and muses whether he belongs to it.  He walks on a road and muses whether he belongs to the path. He looks up at the sky and clouds and refuses to believe that he can belong even to a tiny patch in it. And as if to prove his point, the clouds move away, change shape, disintegrate – and disappear.

   He listens  with amusement when people talk proudly about their ancestry, their roots, their “native” place, and their possessiveness over it. There is such a strong need to belong as though by ourselves we are incomplete. We need to reassure our fickle minds and appease our insecurity by the reassurance that we are not alone and we need not fend for ourselves. But Aab finds a strange relief in not belonging. He has no home town, no mother tongue, no family tree. Every moment that he is with any friend or stranger, he feels belonged to that person. When someone reaches out to him, he holds the hand, when someone moves back, he moves on.

Where are they headed?

I was invited by Public TV to conduct a Career Guidance session at their Career Fest in Palace Grounds.  Though I was pleasantly surprised to see that there were hundreds in the audience (and I was flattered when some of them told me, “we came only to listen to your talk”), I was once again concerned about the absolute lack of awareness or knowledge about the immense possibilities and options that today’s world offers, and more so with the method they need to use to select their career. 

As adults we force children to go on studying for hours and hours, day after day, completing “portions” and facing innumerable exams. But we do not give them any inputs to actually make them successful and happy human beings.  We do not guide them and teach them how to take the right decisions.  Worse, we not allow them to follow their dreams and aspirations, and wish to make them robots by getting into routine and boring careers just because there is more “scope” in them. It is the responsibility of every adult to ensure that we allow children to blossom out and grow the way they want.

Aside: Western countries were spending more and more money making robots, till they realized that very intelligent third world youngsters are willing to work like robots at much less cost !

compete with yourself

Do I need to put the other person down to show how good I am?

We do have to compete in many areas, we have to win over to move on, and we have to face conflict from those who hold different views.  That is fine. But what I wonder about is…..

When facing any opposition or when there is a need to prove that we are right, why do we focus only on pointing out the negative aspects of the opponent, instead of highlighting where we are right or what we have achieved.  It is done by politicians (listen to election speeches), religious gurus, business competitors and even by family members.  A neutral person listening to such put-downers and criticism is not interested in the unpleasantness and wants to keep away from both parties.

I feel that if I am confident about myself I should stop accusing the other person and emphasize on what I have done or why I deserve better treatment or reward.  Trying to climb over others’ shoulders may make you go higher – but before you know it he or someone else will be climbing over your shoulder and you are back to square one.  Comparing oneself with others, trying to prove I am “better than thou” not only does not get long term results, but makes life a little bitter.

How about ignoring your opponents and detractors, and focusing on yourself, your progress, your skills and your goals?  How about competing with yourself?

Try it out, and make it a habit.

Cricket and Me

Cricket and Me

I was never been a sportsperson. The only time I played cricket was when a team had absolutely no choice but to make me the eleventh man, and I batted last in a match we miraculously won.  But my association with cricket was quite strong due to my eldest cousin who was a role model to me.

Mumtaz Hussain, left arm spinner, handsome, charming and brilliant in his studies, captained our school team and started playing for the Hyderabad Ranji Trophy team when he was barely 17.  I would follow him to the grounds and watch mesmerized when the likes of Pataudi, Jaisimha and Abid Ali spoke endearingly and encouragingly to him.  He was the “chhotu” of the team, but to me he was ten feet tall.

Along with him I watched in admiration the players who excelled, played to their full capacity, and made us proud of them.  We applauded our school team, our Club team, our state team, the South Zone team, and of course the Indian team – which played the rare Test matches which were occasions looked forward to months in advance.  The newspapers were our only source of information, and during the matches, the commentators, and the “expert” commentators kept us glued to our radio sets.  We celebrated when our state or national team won, we felt sad when they lost, but we never equated match victory to the capability of the players – they continued to remain our heroes.

Our cricketers did not get any national awards or cash prizes.  They mostly commuted on two-wheelers, sometimes borrowed ones.  Between matches they worked in banks or government departments.  They were thrilled giving autographs, and celebrations meant going to the nearby darshini for a dosa or indulge in a biryani in an ordinary restaurant. Many of them, like Mumtaz faded away when they could no longer play, and were happy being ordinary citizens regaling their grandchildren about their “good old days.”

Days went by, and cricket changed. Today players are ‘bought’, they are ‘auctioned’ and they play for whichever ‘owner’ pays them most. They earn in crores in the normal course, and more than that if they are into match-fixing.  Huge amounts are gambled in every match. Many people watch cricket on TV more to ogle at the attractive cheer-leaders than to admire the players. Politicians get deeply involved in cricket bodies, courts are made to spend valuable judicial time adjudicating scandals. Top cricketers get more honors and adulation than the most courageous military men or the ceaselessly toiling social workers.

Though cricket has a unique charm which is so different from other sports, and there are such thrilling and unpredictable moments in the game, what is happening outside the field has saddened me.  I wonder at all the stalwarts like my cousin who sacrificed their entire lives for the game (he worked as a Head Clerk in the bank till his untimely death, a benefit match in his honor got him the fabulous sum of 14,000 rupees). It was called a ‘gentlemen’s game’, which sounds like a joke when I see the behavior of today’s players.  However much I cherish and am nostalgic about the game, I somehow cannot bring myself to overlook its degeneration, so I change the channel and watch comedy serials.

29^th January 2018

New Jungle book

Jungle Book with a Difference

Dr. Ali Khwaja

Aditya Ganesh grew up in a very liberal environment.  Though his father is into international finance and his mother worked in the corporate sector for a while, they always allowed him to explore and learn on his own.  Shifting at an early age from Mumbai to the ‘green’ city of Bangalore gave him ample opportunities to get closer to nature.

Animals always fascinated him since childhood, and he inevitably looked for activities concerned with the outdoors and with animals.  He become a member of ‘Friends of Elephants’, he volunteered with ‘People for Animals’ and kept looking around for opportunities to be with wildlife. In his 11^th and 12^th these activities took a back seat since, like innumerable others, he was asked to prepare for engineering or medicine, and his grades actually went down for the first time since he could not connect with those careers. After 12^th he got back to his first love, and took up B.Sc. with Zoology in a reputed University.  Even when others were questioning why he did not take up engineering or medicine when he had good grades, he himself did not have any doubts or regrets.  Luckily his parents supported him fully.  Studying Zoology brought many things in better perspective for him, and he actually become one of the toppers in his university.  He kept attending many camps and involved himself in activities concerned with the outdoors and nature.

On graduating he wanted to get into a prestigious all-India organization for his Masters but just missed getting selected.  Since he did not want to get into a mediocre course just for the sake of getting a Masters degree, he considered the rejection as a blessing in disguise, because he could look wider with freedom.  He took a gap year, which was not the ‘done’ thing, but he was not scared what his future will be – and once again he was supported by his parents. He dived into various activities.  He went to Kochi as part of a team that was studying dolphins. He made a breakthrough with a couple of reputed professors of the National Institute of Advanced Studies (NIAS), who encouraged him to help out in research work.  For 8 months he meticulously studied the behavior of fresh water fish in lab conditions, feeding them and observing them closely. Subsequently he was selected by the well-known Prof. Anindya Sinha to go to Chennai and study the natural behavior of street dogs in their own habitat, without disturbing them. He was oblivious of the summer heat as he spent hours taking notes about behavior patterns of the street dogs, each of whom he gave a nick-name.

He has now moved on to Netherlands having obtained admission in a prestigious European university for a Masters in Ecology and Evolution, which he feels is tailor made for him. He wants to secure his academic status by studying animals in depth and eventually get into sustainable sciences.  He is not particular what and how he will achieve, how much he will earn, but he is sure his life is on the right track.

He recollects some fascinating incidents from his unusual life path: He was selected for an Elephant census which was conducted unofficially and was to be completed over 3 days.  The first 2 days there was no sighting of any animals at all, and his team kept trudging to exhaustion in the jungles.  In the last half an hour of his last day he saw not only 30 wild elephants but also a leopard.  This “unpredictability of the forest” is what fascinates him.

He has had occasion to rescue distressed animals in the most unexpected of places: he found an owlet on the tin roof of a shed, too young to fly properly, and exposed to predators.  Aditya recalls how he had to walk gingerly on the roof of the shed and quickly pullout the little fellow.  On another day he found that a snake had gone down the pipe of a public urinal and was stuck.  Needless to say, with Aditya’s rescue the reptile is happily roaming around somewhere in the jungle right now.  He also found a rare Golden Oriole bird in the campus of Christ University.  It was incapacitated due to resin from flowering trees which had stuck its wings shut.  Aditya had to heat up water to apply to the wings and melt the resin, so that the little bird could fly free again.

Working without stress, enjoying every day and every experience of his life, Aditya is happy being on his own, befriending four legged creatures who get fascinated with him (some are seen to fall in love and drool when he is around), and is happily walking literally on an un-trodden path, merging into nature and giving back to it in some way or the other the innumerable blessings that nature gives us but many of us take for granted.

He is also very clear that wherever he may go for learning, he wants to definitely come back to India, because he believes that this is the country that worships nature and its creatures will welcome him back with open arms.

Horsley Hills

Horsley Hills

Dr. Ali Khwaja

Barely three hours of smooth drive from Bangalore, via Hoskote, you enter Andhra Pradesh and the small town of Madanapalli (of Rishi Valley fame).  A slight inconvenience of narrow market roads, and once you are beyond the town, you can stop a little beyond to admire and buy some clay artifacts made by craftsmen in the small villages along the way.  Another half hour, and you turn left, stop at the junction if you wish for a cup of tea at the thatched roof restaurants on the corner, and you are climbing the not-so-steep hill road after paying a nominal entry fee for the hill station.

Unlike most other ghats you barely feel the journey and before you know it you have entered the tiny resort called Horsley Hills.  On inquiry some people said the name was derived from horses.  Even the craftsmen below the hill sell different types of clay horses on the roadside.  I carried my skeptical mind to the office of the Andhra Pradesh State Tourism Corporation – and found the answer most unexpectedly.  There is small enclosure, almost unnoticeable, with a granite slab covering a grave, and the inscription that the hill station was founded by the then Collector of the District, Mr. W. H. Horsley.  The lack of attention to this great soul is confirmed by the fact that his tombstone has a plaque mentioning the same date and year of his birth and his death!

Those seeking a sprawling luxurious hill station will be in for a disappointment, for the entire place is so tiny you can walk around it in fifteen minutes.  No lake for boating, no sprawling gardens, no shopping mall, no spas and resorts, no fancy games or luxury restaurants.  But what it misses out in luxuries, it makes up in abundant nature.  Almost any point in the hill offers breathtaking views of the plains below.  There is even a spot from where one can see a natural ridge formation that looks like a map of India!

Yes, there is a swimming pool, and there is also a small nature health facility, which includes getting your feet nibbled by tiny fishes who can take away the dead skin and tiredness from your limbs – at prices which are a fraction of what you would pay in a fancy resort.  There is a stately Governor’s Bungalow with its own beautiful canopy at the edge with a lovely view, and it is open to public.  Food is restricted, particularly off-season, and you have to make do with the meals served there. 

The Andhra Pradesh Tourism Corporation offers large rooms in colonial bungalows and cottages which have been renovated with modern fittings and are fairly well maintained. For those willing to pay higher rates, there is a private Holiday Resort offering a little more luxury.

Almost unnoticeable is a little zoo with a spattering of crocodiles, fishes, birds and assorted animals.  Of course the monkeys roam free all over the hill un-caged.There is a very quaint Guest House of the Forest Department inside the zoo, but obviously you need governmental contacts to stay there. As expected, there is a small temple for the spiritual minded, and near it are a couple of tea stalls that offer chairs in their courtyards, and if you are lucky they may be willing to serve you rotis and chicken depending on the crowd on that day.

Though Horsley Hills becomes quite warm and uncomfortable in the summer, a visit from November to January, when the rain has brought back the lush greenery all around and the mercury has dropped, is quite fulfilling.  In fact you may need to wear a sweater even during daytime walks.  The real pleasure of such tiny resorts is to go there off-season when the day-time visitors come and go by sunset, and you find the entire place calm, quiet and serene, surrendering itself to the sounds and smells of unadulterated nature and you can take leisurely after-dinner walks in the hazy moonlight.  When the rush of human beings recedes nature teaches you to live life at its own slow and measured pace.

With my student and friend Dr. Priyam who runs a clinic for the poor at the foothills