Unexpected end to a stormy night

(This post is part of the weekly Blogchatter Blog Hop. The prompt: A taxi driver picks up a ghostly passenger in a storm who leads them towards an unfinished business. This is a work of fiction.)

The city had been receiving incessant rain for a few days now, and today, there was a storm. Never had the wind howled like this. 

The impact was terrible. Streetlights were twisted into grotesque shapes, trees uprooted, low-lying areas flooded, and houses inundated. 

The downpour and flooding had already claimed a few lives so far. This was not the sort of rain the city was used to at this time of year — a clear-cut and catastrophic reminder of the wrath of climate change.

MYSTERIOUS APPARITION

Caught in all this, quite unexpectedly, was Chris, a middle-aged taxi driver. Driving at night was not unusual for him, but the severity of the storm and the flooded roads certainly were. The sheets of rain splashing on the windscreen made driving a huge challenge, so much so that Chris was contemplating pulling over to a dry stretch until the storm passed and the rain abated. Just then, he saw someone apparently hailing him.

He couldn’t ignore what seemed like a mysterious apparition. In the low-beam of the car, the figure looked truly ghostly. Chris wasn’t someone who believed in ghosts. Pragmatic and realistic as he was, he thought this must be someone in utter distress needing help.

His professional instincts and genuine human kindness made him pull over. However, his heart was thumping, as he remembered someone once telling him, “Don’t be scared of ghosts; it’s people you need to be scared of.”

Chris cautiously rolled down the passenger window. The man stated his destination and asked if he could take him. Chris noticed that the man’s raincoat was not just soggy but had mud all over. He had a terrifying look about him, with a seemingly fresh scar on his face. Though Chris was scared, he gestured to the man to enter.

The stranger removed his raincoat and dumped it on the floor of the car before settling onto the passenger seat. Just then, Chris saw something more terrifying: there were what looked like blood stains on his trousers and shirt. Wondering what lay ahead, he began driving towards the destination.

RACING AGAINST TIME

“Thank you,” the stranger whispered gratefully. He introduced himself as Stephen, or ‘Steph,’ and Chris returned the introduction. 

While still focussed on the road ahead, Chris, through the corner of his eye, saw something ominously metallic on the stranger, resembling a small knife. He hesitantly turned his head to get a better look, but it seemed to have slipped under his shirt.

“We should get to safety as soon as possible,” Chris muttered. But Steph corrected him. “Safe or not, we need to get to Ann’s house. I must meet her within the next hour,” Steph said, checking his watch with desperate urgency. “I must deliver a signed document for a crucial business deal. The deadline expires at midnight.”

Chris didn't press for details. The unsettling combination of the man’s panic, his appearance, and the presumed weapon kept him silent. His sole aim was simply to drop the unsettling passenger and get home.

THE DESTINATION, FINALLY

As they drove, the storm seemed to be behind them and the rain had eased. In about thirty minutes, they reached the destination: a modest but well-kept suburban house.

They rang the bell. The woman inside, Ann, peered through the window but clearly did not recognise the desperate figure of Steph. In fact, she was frightened, and, not surprisingly, she didn’t open the door.

Steph thought of calling Ann on his mobile, but the networks were down thanks to the storm. Maybe he could have just shouted out who he was, and that would have convinced Ann. But that thought simply didn’t occur to Steph, who was overcome with the frustration of the possibility of not being able to deliver the document in time, resulting in all his efforts being wasted.

FLICKER OF HOPE

Just then, Ann caught a glimpse of Chris standing slightly away from Steph. His face seemed familiar to her. But she couldn’t recollect when or where she had seen him. That prompted her to open the window slightly so she could speak to the two men.

“Who are you?” she asked. Steph identified himself. Ann understood who he was but remained deeply wary of his terrifying appearance.

After he provided necessary details about the business deal and the vital document, her fear was finally replaced by professional urgency. She opened the door, and the two men got inside.

But before getting into any business conversation, Ann, who noticed the red stains and the scar on his face, asked him, “What happened? Why on earth do you look like that?”

“I will explain it all later, Ann,” Steph replied, already ushering her towards a table to finalise the crucial business papers. They both settled down and began discussing the nitty-gritty of the deal.

It was not just Ann who thought Chris looked familiar. He, too, felt that he had seen Ann somewhere, but couldn’t place her.

UNFORESEEN OFFER

Once the business deal was done, Ann turned to Chris. “I am Chris Smith,” he said. As he introduced himself to her, the veil of mystery lifted slowly.

“Now, I remember,” said Ann. “A year ago, I was looking for a driver, and you had applied. But you were just a few hours too late, and I had already recruited someone else.”

“Exactly,” Chris nodded in agreement. He looked at his watch. “It’s already too late; I need to get home before the next round of rain starts pouring.”

But Ann gestured to him to remain seated. With a sombre expression on her face, she said, “That man, whom I had hired, was tragically among those who lost their lives in the heavy flooding here over the past couple of days.”

She looked at Chris straight in his eyes. “I am now looking for a replacement, Mr. Smith. It’s a respectable, well-paid position. Are you interested?”

Chris was taken totally unawares. It took a while for the whole thing to sink in. He knew it was a very prized opportunity, much better than running the taxi all across the town ferrying people — sometimes ghostly men like Steph!

After a brief contemplation, Chris muttered a yes, totally convinced by the potential of a stable and better future. It would have been downright discourteous if he left immediately. A grateful Chris decided to stay for a while longer. Over cups of warm tea, the three chatted away.

With two business deals sealed, the topic was obviously the weather, the destruction, and the grim future of those severely affected.

NEEDLESS SCARE

Now relaxed and relieved, Chris finally mustered the courage to address his fears. “Steph,” Chris asked, trying to sound casual, “You have a knife on you?”

Steph looked genuinely surprised. “A knife? I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

Chris described the object he thought he saw. Steph said gently, smiling, “Yes, it was just that, a thought!”

Now, Chris pointed to the dried red marks on the clothes. “And these… are those blood stains?”

Steph laughed. “Oh, no! These are paint marks! I was at a client’s flat and was trying to get it all done before the weather turned rough so that I could be here well in time with the document. And in the hurry and carelessness, I got some of that on my clothes. The damp weather just gave them an ominous look. That’s all.”

Chris felt an absurd wave of relief. The terrifying look, the muddy raincoat, the blood, the knife, the fear, the worry; all were just needless! The ghostly passenger was merely a frazzled businessman who had nearly ruined a precious and major deal.

The catastrophic storm was unbelievably troublesome but had a serendipitous twist. A lucrative business deal for Steph and a life-changing job for Chris, who dared to pick up "the phantom of the night".

Looking back, moving forward

This post is part of
Blogchatter Bloghop

Ageing to me is like seeing through the rear-view mirror while making course corrections in our journey. 

The more one travels (meaning, the more we age), the greater the distance covered — and that distance is filled with experiences of every kind: good, bad, and everything in between. And we learn from all our experiences. 

It's like a teacher — but only if we’re willing to pause, introspect, and learn, as we move forward.

CROSSROADS AND CHOICES

Over the years, I’ve stood at many crossroads, moments where I had to pause, think, and choose one path among many. My life might have been very different had I taken another route. But that is true for everyone, is it not? Each decision shapes the journey, and ageing is simply the accumulation of those choices.

THE NOSTALGIA TRAP

With age, one tends to become cynical about the present and glorify the past. Don't we hear some people say, “During my days, things were much better. Everything has deteriorated now.” They dismiss youngsters and criticise everything that is new.

I consciously avoid falling into this trap. I may not agree with everything happening today. But it's not for me to give unsolicited advices and dictate what should be and should not be done. I must now let the young and smarter folks lead the way. I definitely don't want to look like a square peg in a round hole. But at the same time, if someone wants my suggestions or active involvement in something, I am always there.

LETTING GO OF FOMO

FOMO (fear of missing out) wasn’t an abbreviation back then, but it certainly existed. I always wanted to be in the know. In the media career I chose, it mattered to know something of mostly everything. If I didn’t, I felt upset.

Now, I’m happy to let go. I don’t mind if I don’t know something. 

Still, old habits die hard. Chasing news was a childhood instinct, it became my profession, and it continues even now — though not with the same passion.

LEARNING TO SLOW DOWN

More than 20 years ago, on
the Marina Beach in Chennai.

People say with age, one mellows down. But I was always calm and relaxed. With age probably I am slowing down. It doesn’t come naturally to me, but I’m consciously trying. My job once demanded speed, urgency, with deadlines staring at me all the time. Now, there are fewer deadlines, and plenty of time to meet them. Slowing down feels less like a loss and more like a gift.

A COMPANION

Ageing, I don't think is about years piling up. It’s about, as I mentioned earlier, learning from the rear-view mirror while keeping my eyes on the road ahead. It is more like a companion that nudges me to adapt, to understand, and to keep moving forward, probably with a little more patience.

Seasons in my life

Back in school in Kerala, the teacher taught us the four seasons.

I understood summer and winter, but not spring and autumn. And I didn’t know which one of them came after summer and winter! (Also, I could never get the spelling of autumn right!)

In my home state, we had only three seasons — summer and two monsoons (southwest and northeast). The month of December was neither hot nor rainy, just cold early in the morning!

Tabebuia rosea in Bengaluru.
Photo: K. Murali Kumar/The Hindu

LANGUAGE OF SEASONS

Much later, after my school years, when I developed a love for the English language (and a bit of literature as well), I came across Shelley’s famous poem Ode to the West Wind, the last line of which is the oft-quoted, “If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?”

The English professor’s explanation of the profound meaning of the poem, and more specifically of the last line, not only painted the world in front of me in brighter colours but also settled for good the confusion I had regarding the order of the seasons.

After spending the first 23 years of my life in Kerala, when I went to North India, I learnt what real winter was. I bought my first blanket in Bhopal in 1988 from a Khadi Bhandar for ₹100. He had asked for ₹120, but agreed to give it for ₹100. I still have it, and I still use it. It’s so thick, good, and warm. 

(Khadi Bhandar is a store where hand-spun and hand-woven cloth and cloth products are sold.)

CULTURE AND COLOUR

Seasons have shaped our local culture. Many of our festivals are so intricately tied to seasons. For example, Holi and Vasanth Panchami mark the end of winter and herald the arrival of spring; a time to look ahead to a bright and colourful future.

The best time of the year, as far as the natural beauty of Bengaluru is concerned, is January to March. The famous Tabebuia rosea (Pink Trumpet Trees) and similar species spring into bloom, bathing streets, parks, and neighbourhoods in colours of pink, white, and yellow.

Though in the north, that’s also the time when sweaters and other warm clothes are stacked away and forgotten for the next six months, that’s not exactly the case here in Bengaluru, which has been my place of residence for the past 26 years. The temperature here is almost always pleasant (in comparison to many other cities) but cool wind and rain bring the temperature down so much that we need warm clothes.

SUMMER OR WINTER?

Winter, which comes at the end of a year, is often characterised as a metaphor for everything that is gloomy. There is very little daylight time, with the sun hardly seen.

This post is part of Blogchatter Blog Hop

But I can manage the cold better than heat; and I prefer winter to summer. This is, of course, in the context of India. I don’t know whether my preference would be the same if I were in Europe or Australia, Canada or the US. At least in the places that I have lived, summer has always been more intense and difficult to manage than winter.

The cold season does have several bright spots. The comfort of curling up under the blanket is unrivalled. Any food is too tempting to ignore. The streaming rays of sunshine are a virtual invitation to the outdoors.

SONGS OF THE SEASONS

When you think of seasons, invariably many songs come to mind. There are plenty of them in English, Hindi, and in my native language of Malayalam that celebrate seasons. It’s difficult to choose the best one.

I will go for Thandi Hawayein Lehrake Aaye from the 1951 film Naujawan sung by Lata Mangeshkar.

It is all about cool breeze, moonlight and stars; and youthful longing and laughter. Lyrics are by Sahir Ludhianvi and music by S.D. Burman. It's considered one of the earliest productions of the duo and Sahir's breakthrough into mainstream cinema.

Here it is:

Get new posts by email

Powered by

A coffee spill that nearly ruined an interview

It was one of those interviews in Delhi after my college days for which I had gone all the way from Thiruvananthapuram. It was for the Junior Research Fellowship (JRF) granted by the University Grants Commission, a prestigious scholarship that opens doors to research careers. That year, 1987, was the first year when JRF was being offered for research in journalism too. Until then, it was only for mass communication.

On the important day, just as anyone would do, I spent quite some time deciding on the outfit for the interview. Finally, I chose a formal shirt and trousers and set out. On the way to the venue, I met a friend; he was a friend of my host in Delhi. He was on his two-wheeler.

Through his friend, he had learned that I was in town for an interview. But we didn't expect to run into each other. He asked me where I was headed. I told him. It turned out that he too was going in the same direction. When I told him about the timing of the interview, he came up with the idea of having some tea or coffee on the way.

I said it was fine. That would allow us time to talk and catch up. And it would sort of take my focus away from the interview too. We settled down at a corner table.

TEA OR COFFEE

Then came the usual question: tea or coffee? I thought for a moment. Coffee isn't quite as popular in the north. Usually, it's only instant coffee (Nescafe or Bru) that's available and that tastes the same anywhere in India.

But the flavour of tea in north India is quite different from what we get in south India. So, I chose tea. But my friend talked me out of that idea, saying that the tea in that particular place wasn't good at all, and that they had multiple varieties of coffee.

I was surprised that they had (my favourite) 'filter coffee' too, though it wasn't specifically a south Indian restaurant. Sipping our drinks, we chatted away.

THE CRISIS

While talking, something distracted me, and I spilled some coffee on my shirt. More than the shirt, my thoughts immediately turned to how I would now go for the interview!

We quickly thought about what could be done. There was just about an hour for me to present myself for the interview. Either buy a new shirt, go home and change, or borrow a shirt from my friend.

We abruptly ended our restaurant rendezvous and quickly looked around to see if there was a store where I could buy a new shirt. No, none. Instead of wasting more time, I went to my friend's place, which was closer to that spot than where I was staying. Luckily, there was one shirt that fitted and suited me. I quickly changed and went for the interview.

THE OUTCOME

What happened to the interview? I qualified for JRF. But it's a different matter that I picked my first job (in Bhopal in 1987) when that came my way rather than go for research, which remains an incomplete entry in my educational qualifications on my résumé! I know it's never too late to start anything. But I don't have the energy for something which I should have done nearly 40 years ago!

COFFEE PREFERENCES 

Mostly, I prefer coffee to tea. That's because the taste of tea varies widely, unlike that of coffee. So, when I'm not sure and I don't want to take the risk, I choose coffee. The taste of filter coffee gives me a unique sort of contentment.

I don't like strong coffee. It tastes bitter for me. I prefer it slightly light. That has prompted some of my friends to comment: "If you drink coffee, you should drink it strong. What you drink is not coffee!" 

This post is a part of the Blogchatter
Blogchatter Blog Hop

My usual choice is "filter coffee" (also called drip coffee or brewed coffee) if that's available. Otherwise, instant coffee. Or, the one that is made by adding coffee power to boiling water and milk.

I'm not a regular visitor to upmarket, specialty coffee shops like Starbucks, Third Wave, Barista or Café Coffee Day. I'm very happy with the local eateries that are commonly called "Darshinis" or "Udupi restaurants" in Bengaluru.

I'm not a compulsive coffee drinker either. I have a cup early in the morning, just before going out for my walk, then after breakfast, and then in the evening before I go for my walk. Very rarely, if I feel like it, I have one sometime in between. I'm not in the habit of having a cuppa whilst working, nor is it my go-to when I'm stressed.

Even though I don’t down cups and cups of coffee a day, the few that I have bring in a sense of comfort and familiarity. They help me settle into the day’s routine, and keep me going.

It’s not the dream, it’s the drive

Those days, we kids couldn’t drive cars with a tap on a mobile phone. So, what did I do? 

I took my trusty tricycle to a corner of the house next to two windows, and tilted it. One of the two rear wheels was the steering. The window in the front was the windscreen, the other my side window. I leaned out with a hand signal at every ‘turn’. There were also those dramatic vroom-vroom and screeching-brake sounds. It was all in my head, but it felt so real.

Even today, when I’m actually at the wheel of my car, it’s those images that fill my mind.

Dreams are the map and the destination. They are somewhere far away, and urge us to keep going. They pull us along.

Back when we were growing up, we were asked, “What’s your ambition?” We had our favourites; mine was 'train driver'. Decades later, for my son it was 'astronaut'.

HOW THEY EVOLVE

Dreams aren’t static. They change with time. My father listening to the news on All India Radio (now Akashwani), quietly kindled another dream in me. I pictured myself “right where the news happens”, and being part of all those big and small moments I heard about on the radio. 

When I used to tell my friends what I had heard in the news, I was in fact well and truly on my journey to the destination, though I hadn’t realised it then. I made it in due course. Maybe not as a foreign correspondent, as I had fancied, but surely as someone who was always close to words and stories; even today.

It’s rarely just one dream. It’s many; one leading to the other. For a tennis player, it's playing in a Grand Slam. Then, it's winning just one. Then, it's aiming for more. 

For me, it was initially the dream of driving. I let it grow from tricycles to cars, from storytelling to journalism.

THE PLEASURE OF CHASING IT

There are still plenty of dreams. They don’t end, do they? But what I have learned is: it’s not really about the dream as a shiny trophy locked away in a glass case. It’s about the journey: the hope, detours, tiny moments, those emotions.

They don’t have a form. They can’t be displayed for everyone to see. But that’s what gives the journey its colour, and fills the heart, as you look through the windscreen, imagined or real. 

They are actually bigger than the dreams!

Get new posts by email

Powered by

From office deadlines to travel timelines

I've always loved to travel, but while I was working, it was a challenge. Getting time off was tough, and even when I did, it was usually for only a few days. The thought of returning to the office was always on my mind.

Now that I'm retired, I have all the time in the world. In June I did a two-week tour of four places in Maharashtra, and the next month it was a road trip through Kerala.

THE WAY I TRAVEL HAS CHANGED

While on our way back from Mangaluru to Bengaluru in 2019

When I was working, any trip that lasted more than a day was usually by flight to save leave days. Now, it’s by train. I don’t mind however long the journey is.

Train travel requires a lot of advance planning. Bookings open 60 days in advance, and, unless you plan that many days ahead, chances of getting a ticket are slim.

The IRCTC website and app are good enough. Some third-party apps are helpful if you are waitlisted. They use AI to predict how probable it is to get a reservation against cancellation.

A few months ago, while planning my trip to Maharashtra, I hit a snag. My original plan was to visit Pune, Thane, Shirdi, and Sambhaji Nagar (Aurangabad), starting and ending in Bengaluru. But I realised there wasn't a direct train from Sambhaji Nagar to Bengaluru, so you'd have to go back to Pune. This made no sense. So, I reversed my plan: Bengaluru - Pune - Sambhaji Nagar - Shirdi - Thane - Bengaluru.

My seven trips abroad were solo official ones. Two personal trips, and the domestic ones have been with family. While some people love to go solo, others hate them. I'm flexible. Both have their pros and cons.

GETTING READY TO GO

The build-up to a trip is always exciting! The bookings for travel and accommodation, getting and packing the essentials like clothes, toiletries, first-aid kit, and ensuring adequate cash, though there is always the option of online. For foreign trips, it's a travel card and forex. If it’s multiple cities, then the entire sequence has to be planned to make the most of the time.

Before a trip, I do my research. I used to travel without much preparation and would later regret all the things I missed. Reading up on a place doesn't spoil the surprise; it only enhances the experience. Being there in person is still a whole different ball game with its own surprises.

I'm not a big fan of shopping. If I buy something, it's a unique souvenir or memorabilia. I especially love collecting fridge magnets or something that represents the place's unique character.

At the Museum of Goa in 2018

I always carry a book, either a physical one or an e-book, especially if I'm travelling alone. However, I rarely get a chance to read. My days are packed. I'm usually out by 7 or 8 a.m., visiting as many places as possible, and I'm back at the hotel by 7 p.m., exhausted. There's hardly any energy left for reading or listening to music, leave alone watching TV in the hotel room!

I don't make playlists or shopping lists, but I do create a "tour list" on Google Maps. I save places of interest to this list. It's incredibly helpful because it gives me a visual picture of which place is where. This makes trip planning much easier.

WHY I TRAVEL

The biggest reason I travel is to learn about local customs, traditions, languages, food, and landscapes. India is so vast, and each of its 28 states and eight union territories is incredibly diverse and multi-cultural. I still have 11 states and four union territories left to visit. Hopefully, I will get there soon!

This post is part of the Blogchatter Blog Hop

My favourite places are historical monuments and museums. They put the present in historical context and help me better understand the world around me. I also love landscapes, beaches, and mountains. They are great for taking photos and are perfect for relaxing and unwinding.

Travel is more than just a break from the monotony of daily life. It's a brand new experience that broadens our understanding of people, places, and cultures. 

There's a well-known quote attributed to the American writer Henry Miller: “One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.” He believed our perspective, not the place itself, shapes our experience.

This is why you don't always need to travel far. Our own neighbourhoods often hold surprising treasures just waiting to be discovered!

Get new posts by email

Powered by

The spirit of sports and games

Leave alone Insta and TikTok, there wasn’t even television then. There weren’t T20s or ODIs, either. There were only the five-day Test matches, and we, a bunch of cricket-crazy friends in school, kept track of the scores by listening to radio commentaries. For that, we even had to learn the numerals in Hindi from zero to 100, since the commentaries were alternately in English and Hindi.

India registered its first Test win overseas in Dunedin,
New Zealand, in 1968. Photo credit: Indiatimes

There was no need for TV. The descriptions of commentators like Anand Setalvad, Suresh Saraiya (he frequently used the phrase ‘as well’), Sushil Doshi, Ravi Chaturvedi, J P Narayan, Jasdev Singh, Skand Gupta, Akash Lal, Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi (mostly as an expert commentator), Murali Manohar Manjul, and others were so vivid that we could visualise the match in our minds.

There was also the famous team of BBC Radio's Test Match Special commentators: Brian Johnston, Don Mosey, Henry Blofeld, Christopher Matin-Jenkins, etc. TMS still there on BBC Radio, but it's not available online -- on YouTube or radio apps -- for overseas listeners because of rights restrictions.)    

I even had a pocket transistor, which probably came in the late 1970s or early 1980s. When a portable transistor radio itself was a piece of wonder (the earlier valve radios were so big one couldn’t even lift them easily), the fact that we could carry a small version in our pockets was simply unthinkable!

WINDOW TO THE WORLD

We knew not only where Dunedin is located but also how the word is pronounced! We also became familiar with places like Old Trafford, Port of Spain, and islands such as Antigua, Trinidad and Tobago. We learned what a county in England is. (These are all places where India play cricket matches.)

We even picked up the time difference between India and various cities of the world, including the one-hour gap between local time in England and GMT. Cricket taught us a lot of geography, in fact.

When India won the World Cup in 1983 (a clichéd topic now), the headline in The Hindu was “India at the pinnacle of glory”. I didn’t know what the word pinnacle meant. I looked it up in the dictionary and learned a new word.

All thanks to cricket.

SPORTS AT SCHOOL

In Sainik School, Kazhakootam, Thiruvananthapuram, where I studied, sports and games are compulsory. Cricket, football, hockey, basketball, volleyball, tennis – all of them. Besides, there were athletics like short- and long-distance running, hurdles, high jump, long jump, pole vault, and also boxing, gymnastics, and cross-country races.

Though I have done them all as part of the school curriculum, my favourites still are tennis, cricket, hockey, badminton, and athletics, though of course I follow other games as well.

The feeling one gets during and after a match or event is one of accomplishment – of having pushed oneself to the limit and given one’s best. It often surfaces in the form of beads of sweat running down the body. The tiredness is strangely relaxing as well as invigorating.

MORE THAN JUST A GAME

Sports and games are not just about the competition. They teach soft skills such as perseverance, endurance, teamwork, camaraderie, and, most importantly, sporting spirit. We pick them up while playing.

Sportspeople put in so much hard work through gruelling training schedules. They are constantly trying to do better and better, forever. Some of them have had surgeries, raised families, battled mental health issues, and yet returned to training and worked their way back on to the field. After all that, they have shown amazing agility and athleticism, and gone on to win matches.

Hats off to their indomitable spirit. Sports and sports personalities are truly inspiring.

THE PAIN OF DEFEAT

P T Usha misssed a bronze in 400 m hurdles by
one-hundredth of a second in the 1984 Los Angeles
Olympics. Photo source: Getty Images/Olympics.com

If, after all the hard work, it was a win, it was all hunky-dory. But when it was a loss – and worse, when the margin of defeat was the narrowest – that was never easy to reconcile with.

Imagine days, weeks, months, and years of hard work not bearing the fruit one dreamt of. One famous instance that comes to mind is the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles, when India’s PT Usha missed the bronze by one-hundredth of a second in the 400 metres hurdles. That was the narrowest miss one can think of. Yet her timing of 55.42 seconds was a national record.

(Unlike now, in those days, our teams didn’t win so many medals at international events. So, you can imagine how disappointed we were with Usha missing a bronze in the Olympics.)

Sports and games teach us the golden rule: be gracious in defeat, applaud the winner, and move on.

A rule applicable to every aspect of life.

GROWING OLDER, STAYING INSPIRED

This post is part of the Blogchatter Blog Hop

Today, age has caught up with me. I can barely do 20%, or at most 30%, of the intense physical activities I once could in my younger days. That’s a reality I have learned to come to terms with.

But I haven’t given up on following sports and games on TV – whether live action or, when I miss them, the highlights.

They continue to infuse in me so much positivity and energy – to always do my best and move on.

Get new posts by email

Powered by

The city that went back in time

There wasn’t anything unusual that night.

There was heavy rain. That was normal here, in the city of Ruganuleb, during this season. The bustle of traffic had slowly faded as the night crept in.

But there was something unusual the next morning.

AI-generated image

Though the overnight rain had stopped and daylight was gently streaming in, not all the lights in the house were switching on. The few that did had very dim brightness.

As always, I switched on the Wi-Fi and mobile internet on my phone. Neither worked.

Had someone switched off the router? No. But not all the lights on the router were blinking.

For all the 5G connectivity that internet service providers boast about, this is what I get in the morning! Hopefully, it will be fine soon.

Perhaps yesterday’s rain had wreaked havoc overnight. Let me check the news channels on TV.

Oh! The TV runs on Wi-Fi. No hope there.

Radio? None of the stations were playing.

What’s happening? It looks like some real havoc.

My first thought was to call someone on the mobile, but that was out of the question.

I opened the apartment door and stepped out. A few of my neighbours were already outside, looking puzzled.

Everyone had the same question: why is nothing working? No one seemed to have an answer.

THE FIRST DAY OF BREAKDOWN

One of the engineer-neighbours called it a major CTF (Connectivity Tech Failure). It looked like all connected devices had stopped working.

There was electricity, but the voltage was low. Water was still flowing in the taps.

Could it be a cyberattack?

No one knew whether only this city was affected or if the whole country was under the same shadow.

A few people with landlines tried calling friends in other cities. The calls didn’t go through.

By 9 a.m., when I was about to drive to the office, I was warned that none of the traffic lights were working, and that there was chaos on the roads. Better to stay at home.

But what about office then? What about the project I had to send to Helsinki?

Work from home? Impossible — no way to inform my colleagues, my manager, or anyone at all.

I parked the car back. People were gathering outside on the streets, still whispering about a possible cyberattack. But by whom?

By evening, the situation was clearer — and grimmer. Still no mobiles, no radio, no television. News travelled only by word of mouth.

Children stayed home. Parents didn’t risk sending them to school.

A college student in our building walked the 2 km to his campus. He reported chaos on the streets. Offices were open but not working.

No trains. No flights. The city had virtually come to a standstill.

AFTER A WEEK

Friends and relatives showed up at our doorstep unannounced (no way to contact us). They were curious about the strange blackout. From them we learnt the truth: the “connectivity tech failure” was only in Ruganuleb. The rest of the country was unaffected.

Their mobiles too stopped working the moment they entered the city.

One friend showed me a news clip from YouTube he had downloaded. It said engineers were trying to restore the network, but each time one section was fixed, another went down.

It was as if a virus had invaded the system, one they could not trace or neutralise.

This was a pandemic of a different kind.

During Covid, people kept apart out of fear. Now, there was no fear — but plenty of confusion.

At least during Covid we knew the cause. This time, no one knew why Ruganuleb alone was suffering such a collapse. Even the best global experts had failed to fix it.

TWO WEEKS ON

A friend drove five hours to his company’s branch in Nehncai. He couldn’t find space in the office, so he worked from his friend’s house instead.

AI-generated image

Schools and colleges reopened slowly. Bus services returned in a limited way.

Traffic lights still didn’t work, so policemen stood at busy junctions, directing vehicles — like in the old days.

Radio and TV stations were trying to revert to older systems. Not easy, but maybe in a few weeks.

Newspapers returned. That was now the only source of news — even old news was welcome!

Ruganuleb had become the biggest story in the country; and the world.

Rumours spread — a cyberattack, nature’s way of restoring balance, it was supposed to happen as predicted in a “What the Stars Say” column.

AFTER A MONTH

They say every adversity is an opportunity. During Covid, we discovered remote working and institutionalised WFH. This time, the breakdown pushed us in the opposite direction.

People met face to face. Families sat together for meals. Children played cricket, football, and badminton outdoors, even basketball with improvised hoops on trees.

No UPI payments. Only cash.

Banks brought cash in from other cities. Special counters opened, with queues forming from 7 a.m.

Cinemas were shut, as there were no projectors or reels. Some even began searching for old 70 mm projectors.

The good news: landline phones began functioning again, in phases.

AFTER TWO MONTHS

This post is part of the Blogchatter Blog Hop

It was a whole new life. Had we adjusted? Yes. Easier than during Covid.

Tourists began arriving, curious to see life without devices. They stayed with friends, relatives, or in hotels, and went back with tales of wonder and resilience.

Word of mouth became Ruganuleb’s new advertisement: Come here to experience life from 50 years ago!

But was a solution found?

No.

The Head Minister of the State held a press conference, not to promise restoration but to celebrate Ruganuleb’s new global fame.

For the first time, a city’s population decreased because people left in search of better opportunities.

Here, tourism replaced technology as the government’s top priority.

Plans were even announced to give residents identity cards and to introduce visa-like permits for outsiders, to preserve the city’s new “non-tech” environment.

SIX MONTHS LATER

The Head Minister and the the city's Chief Administrative Officer declared that all efforts to restore connectivity had officially been abandoned.

A new city had been born.

Even if there was a "virus" in the system, they said, it would have “starved to death” by now.

“This may or may not have been a cyberattack,” the Head Minister announced. “But it is surely a change for the better. And we are glad for it.”

Welcome to Ruganuleb — the city that turned back the clock.

Fiction, non-fiction: Why I read what I read

Image source: Pixabay

I have always enjoyed fiction. Yet it feels like ages since I last read a novel, to the point that I am embarrassingly out of touch with the latest authors.

The writers who come to my mind are Arthur Hailey, Stephen King, John Grisham, Somerset Maugham, Arthur Conan Doyle, Thomas Hardy, and Indian authors such as Anita Desai, Kamala Das, Shashi Deshpande, R K Narayan, Ruskin Bond, etc.

One of the more recent novelists I read was Paula Hawkins, whose The Girl on the Train I found quite engaging.

CONTEMPORARY RELEVANCE

One reason my fiction reading has reduced over the years is my preoccupation with work, which has largely revolved around real-life events, people, and issues. Naturally, my inclination shifted to reading non-fiction books or watching programmes related to current events or history which provide a context for understanding the present.

What I enjoy most about non-fiction -- like travelogues, biographies, books on contemporary or historical issues -- is its immediate relevance. It adds to my general knowledge and often helps in work-related situations. Whether it’s a book, an article, or a documentary, I value what it teaches me about the world around us.

LEARNING THROUGH FICTION

Fictional stories are often read for relaxation or entertainment. But good fiction can also educate. Though the plot itself might be imaginary, the details through which it unfolds are often grounded in fact.

Take Arthur Hailey, for instance. His novels are among my favourites because he researched extensively before writing. Each of his books is set in a different industry. For example, cars, tourism, finance, media, medicine, and so on. His stories are not only entertaining but also informative, giving readers insights into how different industries operate.

This is what makes storytelling so powerful: even when the theme or plot is fictional, it illuminates the real world.

STORYTELLING: THE COMMON THREAD

Whether fiction or non-fiction, storytelling lies at the heart of it. After all, both forms narrate something that has happened, or could have happened.

That’s why news reports are also called “stories” in journalistic parlance, though they are based on real-life events. Storytelling, in any form, aims to inform, educate, and / or entertain.

Image source: Pixabay

WHAT MAKES ME PICK A BOOK

If I am familiar with the work of a particular author, that makes choosing the book easier. But if it’s the first book, then I tend to be a bit sceptical.

For me, the plot or the theme should be appealing, something that I can relate to. Even if the plot is unreal, really far removed from reality, I should still be able to connect with it at some level. 

However, what matters to me the most is the clarity of narration. Even if the plot is really good, if I am not able to understand the way the story is told, I tend to lose interest. In a crime thriller, for example, one might not even understand what is happening, but if the language is clear and impactful, that’s enough to keep me turning the pages.

THERE IS NO TEMPLATE

Creative works don’t have a template. It’s very difficult to establish why a book or a movie has been liked by a lot of people. It’s difficult to define “a good plot or a good theme”. It’s a lot about emotions, how one relates to the central piece of work. Each person has their own preferences and inclinations.

It would be nice to know what your reading preferences are.

(This post is part of Blogchatter's Blogchatter Blog Hop)

Get new posts by email

Powered by

Real-world lessons from younger folks

Image credit: Pixabay

The other day, we visited a friend. They shared an interesting observation about travelling with their two grown-up children. 

"If the kids are with us, we have no problem finding a good restaurant or booking a hotel while touring," they said. "But without them, we just depend on tour operators. It's so difficult to figure out which places are good; all our time goes into research. These kids just look at their phones and find everything in a jiffy!"

That made me think about the capabilities of younger folks.

*** *** *** 

Another day, a neighbour dropped by. We were discussing social media, disinformation, misinformation, AI-generated videos and so on. 

She shared a story: "My 11-year-old son asked me a question. I had no clue. I then quickly Googled it on my phone and gave him the answer. His immediate reply was: 'You looked that up online. Are you sure what you're saying is correct?'"

The young boy was questioning the reliability of information, from a trusted adult! 

That was a pointer to the sort of digital literacy and critical thinking that people of my generation are still struggling with!

*** *** *** 

Image credit: Pixabay

A few months before my retirement in April, tenth-grade students from a well-known school in Bengaluru visited our media house. I was tasked with giving them a short talk about a typical day in the life of a journalist: how news is gathered, processed, and how the next day's newspaper is brought out.

After my presentation, I took questions from the students. Here are just two of the questions: 

"Why do news reports say 'according to a source'? Why don't you tell us who the source is?"

"I was watching news about the Ukraine war on TV. Isn't it risky for journalists to be in war zones? How do they manage to get there amid all the firing and shelling?"

I was left wondering if I am talking to 10-grade students or J-School students! 

The questions revealed not just curiosity, but also an understanding of journalism which took me by surprise.

DISPELLING MYTHS ABOUT YOUTH

These examples run contrary to some common assumptions about the younger folks: that they lack understanding, they are disorganised, or they aren't ready for life's challenges. 

On the contrary, I think, there are a lot of things we can learn from them. 

Their curiosity, confidence, and ability to work around ever-evolving technology are quite remarkable. More importantly, they know new ways of doing things and they are determined to follow their passions.

NO EXPERIENCE? NO PROBLEM

We traditionally associate wisdom with experience. True, younger folks lack that. But they have plenty to make up for it.

Their engagement with technology is an eye-opener. 

The typical older generation response is often: "Oh! We managed perfectly well without these modern gadgets." 

As a senior citizen myself, I've had similar thoughts.

While that may be true, it's neither progressive nor positive. 

What strikes me most about younger minds is their curiosity and willingness to experiment without the baggage of the past.

Unlike my generation, they don't spend too much time planning. They begin with a rough sketch of their path forward, then tackle challenges, improvise, and course-correct in real-time.

QUESTIONING STATUS QUO

Even with traditional social norms, they look for newer methods. They have the conviction to prioritise convenience and adaptability over restrictive conformity.

A mother once told me about her teenage daughter's response to being asked to do housework: 

"Why are you only asking me? Why aren't you asking my brother to do the same?" 

The typical older generation argument is: "This is how it has always been done."

The younger generation responds: "Why should it still be done that way?" 

They don't just question; they often propose alternatives.

They're more conscious of equity (not just equality, which a college student once told me is outdated), as well as saving time, using resources efficiently, and achieving better outcomes.

REAL-TIME ADAPTATION

Young people are like natural innovators! 

Look at how they start YouTube channels with nothing but phone cameras, or launch philanthropic or community programmes through social media accounts. 

One example is Shraddha Jain who moved from coding (in information technology) to comedy. This is her YouTube channel.

As she says in this 2022 interview with ET Now's Brand Equity, it wasn’t an easy transformation at all.

 SHOULD WE WORRY ABOUT YOUNGER FOLKS?

I don't think there's anything to worry. 

Just as we expected our previous generations to have faith in us when we were young, we need to pass the baton and place that same confidence in the next generation.

However, there is one legitimate concern. It is not about them. It is about us: the absence of enough good role models among elders.

Are we setting the right examples, at home and outside? What about public servants like politicians who are always in the public domain dominating news programmes? 

REAL TEACHERS

This post is part of
Blogchatter Blog Hop

Learning is a two-way process. 

While we focus on teaching young people about life, they're quietly showing us ways and means to live that many of us have forgotten or never developed.

They grow with their curiosity. They display honesty with their questions. This uncertain world finds a way forward with their adaptability.

While we wonder whether they are ready for the world, the moot question is: are we ready to learn from them?