TO LOSE OR NOT TO LOSE

“To Lose or Not to Lose”- that’s the name of my team.  A team we formed in the office. 

The organisation I work for holds a competition annually.   A competition amongst the employees for losing weight. It is called “10K Challenge”.  The participants form teams with four members in each.  The duration is 40 days.  Parameters like Height, weight, BMI, fat %, visceral fat etc. are made note of before the competition starts.  Every participant is given a pedometer to be worn, that records the steps a person makes in a day. Every participant has to register at least ten thousand steps a day, throughout the competition period. Successful weight/fat losers are rewarded both as teams and also as individuals.

The competition started with great enthusiasm.  110 teams were formed.  Every team had a unique name, viz.,

Flab to Fab, Fitizens, Fit Appa, Kozhuppula Gandam, Belly Twisters, Kuchi Mittai, Fat Assassins, Fat Luck, Ennamma Ippadi Weight Koraikka Sollureengalle maa etc.

 As mentioned above, our team’s was “To Lose or Not to Lose”.  Two of my colleagues and a colleague’s wife were my team members.  Both my colleagues are slim. In fact, they have no fat to lose.  But they joined to motivate me and my colleague’s wife, who was also little obese.  Our organization created a separate module for monitoring progress of all the participants on the intranet and the team leader was given access to enter the steps registered by the respective team members. Since my team leader was busy and touring often, he shared the password with me and I became the de facto leader and started monitoring the steps of my team and feeding the data into the system.   For the first few days, my team members were enthusiastic and recorded 10000 + steps.  Still our team was in 70^th position, as the other teams were very aggressive.  There were two/three teams, that registered 1,50,000 + steps collectively, which means the average was 40000 steps per member per day.  The entire office discussed “steps” & “weight” at every possible opportunity.  We also discussed it in the train and most of the co-passengers came to know of this program.

My fit and slim team members, slowly lost interest in the competition and were not regularly registering “steps”.  My colleague’s wife who also had some medical problem was walking sincerely initially, but then, unfortunately, she was hospitalised for a surgery and so I was the only member who registered the minimum steps almost every day.  Due to this, our team slowly drifted to 104^th position.  I did not give up.  Though there was no chance for our team to win, I was not demoralized.  I wanted to try sincerely and give my best and win in the individual category.

I reduced my food intake.  I went for long walks twice a day - once in the morning and once in the evening.  I walked in the stations.  I walked in the office during tea and lunch breaks.  My colleagues guessed that I would have lost a significant weight.  But after 20 days of commencement of the program, there was an intermediate assessment and the readings were not very encouraging.  My weight reduced by 900 grams, fat loss was 3.3% and 2% loss of visceral fat.  Still, I was not disappointed.  I keep reading a lot about weight loss and I know that, when a person exercises vigorously, the fat gets converted into muscle and since muscle is heavier than fat, there is likely to be no reduction of weight or in some cases, increase in weight.  My fat loss was of course encouraging and I constantly dreamt of losing at least 10% of fat by the end of the program.  My program co-ordinator was also very optimistic.  He motivated me a lot.

I did not discuss about this competition with my best friends Murali, Anuja & Prakash, with whom I was regularly in touch on phone, which is very unusual.  I wanted to surprise them too.

My family members were not very happy.  They could not comprehend as to why I was so obsessed about weight reduction at this stage of my life. 

Till a week before the conclusion of the program, I had recorded my daily steps.  In the last one week, I was little busy and did not log on to the module and thought I can record them on the last day.  Appointment for my assessment was fixed on the last day.  I was very eager to know my results.  I started for my morning walk on 27^th July with the pedometer tucked.  Hardly would I have walked 200 steps, I felt someone coming very close and hitting me from behind.  I thought some chain snatcher was at work.  But even before I could ascertain as to what was happening, I fell down, with my legs under an auto-rickshaw and I was dragged along the moving vehicle.  The driver was either drunk, or was under the influence of a drug or was just sleeping while he was driving and did not notice me at all.  Probably, some part of my dress was hooked to the vehicle as I was falling down and I got stuck under the chassis of the vehicle.  The driver did not realise even then and dragged me along and stopped after I screamed.  Some passer-by helped to lift the vehicle and get me out and as I took my phone to call the police, the driver fainted.  I could not lift my hand.  With great difficulty, I called my brother, who was getting ready to drive his children to their school and informed him about the accident.  My brother, a firm believer of Karma Siddhanta, rushed to the scene and without even questioning the driver, rushed me to the hospital, as he thought medical-aid was most important and secondly felt I too was responsible for the accident, as I walked in a road without a footpath, in the same direction of traffic. 

I had a shoulder dislocation and it had to be set right by “reduction” technique.  There were injuries all over my body, and there was a large abrasion starting from my thigh to my foot as I was dragged on a rough surface on the road.  The abrasion resembles the map of North America and South America.  Since the dirt got tattooed, fearing infection, the Doctors advised debridement, due to which, the skin on my leg is yet to be formed. Even after a week’s stay at the hospital and a month’s stay at home, I am yet to recover fully. 

Life is funny. The pedometer that recorded my steps and was part of my body for more than a month, got smashed in the accident.  I could not attend the assessment. The competition co-ordinator, not aware of my accident, called me when I was in hospital to check as to why I had not attended the assessment.  I don’t know how much of weight and fat I lost.  Based on my intermediate assessment, and the steps I entered in the system, I was in 214^th position in the individual category and 104^th position as a team. 

Since I was confined to bed, for almost a month, I think, I would have gained the weight I have lost during the 40 days period. I am eagerly waiting to recover fully, so that, I can start my walking sessions again.

Though I am sad that, I am suffering for no fault of mine, my family members are very glad that, I have survived.  They keep reminding me that, I have not had any fractures because of my fat and also I did not get crushed under the tyres of the auto, as I got stuck under because of my size and advise me not to complain about my weight.

I planned to post a blog on 27^th July with the same title.  But I could not.  Had the accident not taken place, the content would have been very different.  I would have flaunted about the little weight/fat I would have lost.

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN

I love banana trees.  I like the light green colour of the leaves, the smell and structure of the plant and more than anything else, eating in a leaf.

I have always wanted to have them in our backyard, but for vaastu reasons, my parents objected to the idea of planting them.  My desire to have them in our garden became very intense a few years ago and I suggested to my mother two places, where water stagnated i.e., near the corporation water pump and the kitchen drain outlet for planting plantain saplings, so that the water is not wasted (Banana trees need a lot of water).  As usual, my parents strongly opposed the idea.

But, miraculously, exactly in the two places I suggested, banana plants sprouted during a monsoon.  I don’t know if the roots from a neighbour’s garden reached ours with the flood water, or the plants sprouted from the seeds dropped by birds (banana plants can also be propagated through germination, which was not known to us).

Initially, when the plants sprouted, we thought it was a variety of grass.  Then felt, it could be Turmeric and a little later thought it could be Canna indica, but once it took shape, we understood it is my favourite banana.  They are such beautiful plants, my parents too could not forcibly remove them quoting vaastu reasons. 

Every time I see them, I feel so happy because, the plants have grown exactly the way I imagined them and wanted them to and the fact that I too have experienced a miracle.

ART OF GOOD WRITING

CREATIVITY IS CONTAGIOUS. PASS IT ON – ALBERT EINSTEIN

All of us wish to express.  All of us long to be heard.  All of us look forward to be appreciated.  It is very natural. 

I am not an accomplished writer.  Except for my blog and for a few radio programmes, I have not written much  In fact, I am not even well read. But my friend Divya, considers me good enough to give her tips for writing and I dedicate this blog to her.

I have always been a storyteller.  But never dared to write.  I had inhibitions. "Will I be able to write?  How would people receive it? What if there are errors?  Will my perception and the readers’ perception be the same? Will I be criticized? Will I be ridiculed?"  These were some of the thoughts that bothered me. 

In the mid 90’s, in one of the episodes of Cadbury’s Bournvita Quiz Contest, Vir Sanghvi was the guest.  His brief speech after the contest for the budding writers was so inspiring, I started writing. I don’t remember the full speech.  But he mentioned that, writing is all about organizing one’s thoughts.  So let me start from there.

It is very important for the writer to think clearly and organize the thoughts in a logical sequence.  There has to be an introduction, the main part and the conclusion.

Maintaining a uniform rhythm is important.

ABCs of communication viz., accuracy, brevity and clarity have to be taken care of.  This helps in retaining attention span of the readers.

The story, essay, report or the article has to be error free.  Grammar and punctuation have to be taken care of.

Information, phrases or even words should not be repeated.

Usage of appropriate quotes, idioms and phrases will add value.

Read a lot.  It not only improves vocabulary, but also opens many 

avenues.  . 

The hints of the basic story/essay have to be jotted down and 

 then developed. A rough draft to be made and read again and 

again for modification.

Every person is unique and the originality should always be maintained.  More important is passion. 

GHOST STORIES

Today at office, during the coffee-break, some of my senior colleagues shared some interesting information.

A couple of years ago, a bank functioned in our present office premises and an employee had committed suicide and his ghost still haunts the ladies’ toilet (of all places).  It was discussed with sincerity and great belief. 

Though I laughed at them, like everyone else, I am curious to know about the “ghosts”.  When I was young, I was afraid of many things and based on the ghost stories I have heard and the way ghosts are projected in films, I developed fear, but as I grew up, with my scientific temper and rational thinking, the “fear of the unknown” slowly vanished.

The first ghost story was narrated to me by my eldest brother.  It was a story he had read in a magazine.  The story goes like this; a photographer took photos of an old deserted building for its aesthetic value and when he developed the negatives and printed photographs, he was shocked to see the image of a nun standing near the gate of the old house.  After listening to this story, for a very long time, I was scared of every nun I saw.

My brother later shared his personal experience as well.  When my brother was in his early 20s, he lived alone and worked in Hyderabad.  He usually spent his weekends with our relatives in and around Hyderabad and one weekend, late in the night as he was walking towards my cousin’s house in a remote suburb, a westerner along with his gigantic dog came close to him and asked for time in chaste Urdu and both the person and the dog vanished within seconds of my brother replying.  My brother was very surprised with this incident and on an enquiry, he was told that several years before, an Englishman, who had a dog, lived and died there.

My friend too, narrated his friend’s experience.  My friend’s friend, when he was young, had a friendly old man in his neighbourhood.   The old man greeted the boy in reference every time the boy walked past his gate.  The boy went on an excursion for a few days and upon his return, the old man stopped the boy, greeted him as usual and discussed details of his excursion.  The boy returned home cheerfully, only to learn that the old man had died the same day the boy went on an excursion and that the funeral too was over by then.

(It is always better to hear from the horse’s mouth and as and when my brother and my friend share this information in their respective blogs, I shall share it)

A couple of years ago, while I was asleep, I suddenly woke up due to a very uneasy feeling and was very confused.  The next day, I woke up at the same time and experienced cross-ventilation of chill air.  I can rationalize my experience thus.  However, I am very eager to know more about the existence of ghosts.

LIFE IS A JOURNEY

Life is full of surprises.  We do not know what is in store for us.

In the last decade and half, I have been commuting to my place of work on my two-wheeler (scooty/scooter).  The moment I get on to my vehicle, irrespective of my moods, I start singing or whistling (yes I do).  But the rides are not always pleasurable, particularly in traffic jams.  I avoid riding through the main roads to escape traffic and keep discovering new routes through residential areas.  Many such roads are narrow, bumpy and crowded.  Driving on main roads is more pleasurable than driving in residential colonies, due to speed constraint.

Last monsoon, while I was returning home from work on my vehicle late in the evening, I was caught in a bad traffic jam on the main road.  To escape, I entered into a quasi-residential colony.  My God!  The road was flooded and all vehicles were stranded on the road.  I was completely drenched, stuck and could neither move forward nor go back to the main road.  The water level on the road with several potholes was rising due to continuous and heavy rain.  After a while, the vehicular movement stopped and there was a rumour that a live electrical wire was snapped.  I was so scared and worried how I would reach home safely.   Though I don't have any desires in life, I don't want to leave this world while I am still productive, particularly before my parents.  Though I am agnostic, at that particular moment, I remembered the “Gajendra moksha” episode from the Bhagavatam and addressed to God; “the same manner in which you saved Gajendra, grant me moksha from this situation, from this traffic, from this route, from riding the vehicle and from this organization. I am fed up.”  I was at that stage very unhappy at work and was looking for a change desperately.  I somehow reached home that evening safely.

Soon after this episode, a new organization came up near our house and I contemplated to walk-in and look out for a suitable job for me. Surprisingly, I got a call from their office inviting me to attend an interview, after they saw my profile on a job portal.  I was so happy and started day-dreaming; going to the office by walk, coming home for lunch and reaching home before sunset.  They were very impressed with me and after several levels and rounds of interviews, sought time to give a formal offer.  I thought, God had heard my prayers and was creating an opportunity for me to work close to my home. I waited and waited for the offer and one day, I received a call, offering me a very low salary and I could not accept it.

I continued with my efforts to get into another organization and I landed in my present job. This monsoon, I am not riding on my vehicle to work.  The location is very far away from my home.  I need to travel by train to work and travel to the nearest railway station by bus or an auto rickshaw. 

Life is funny, still beautiful.

The journey continues.......

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

A colleague of mine has been demanding a cake from me for quite some time.  The reason behind his demand is not so interesting and so I am not discussing it. Bored with his demand, I decided to buy a few pastries for him.  Last week, on a fine morning, I went to a bakery in our neighbourhood.  Most of the shops were still closed.  The counter at the bakery too was not open.  There were two teenagers in the bakery, who were busy attending to the chores.  While one was sweeping, another was cooking something in a large vessel. 

Out of curiosity and nothing else to do, waiting for the counter to open, I observed what was being cooked.  I wondered, what can be cooked in a bakery!  I thought everything is baked there.   A large aluminium vessel, which probably was never washed, was placed on an indigenously designed gas stove in front of the bakery, on the road.  The vessel too, was not covered with any lid.  The water in the vessel was very dirty.  Dirty is not the appropriate word.  It was muddy.  Potatoes and carrots were being boiled in that vessel. (Probably, the root vegetables were not washed)  I also saw a thick polythene bag inside the vessel that floated partially in the boiling water and I told the boy sweeping the floor, assuming that it was dropped into the vessel along with the vegetables, inadvertently.  While he maintained silence, another boy who brought a tray of eggs and dropped one after the other into the boiling water replied that, he had dropped a sealed cover containing peas into the water.  The eggs were not white and bright like the ones I have seen in the provision stores or the supermarkets, but were off-white and dirty.  Some eggs were stained. I just could not digest the scene and it troubled me a lot. (It continues to haunt me).

I discussed it with some of my colleagues at office and a lady, who lived near a bakery in her childhood, told me that, they boil eggs for making puffs (egg puffs).  But why potatoes, peas and carrots was my question?  She replied; they are for the veg-puffs.  “OMG” was my reaction.  “Is this the way they boil vegetables for veg-puff?”  Another colleague asked me; “can you guess how oil is replenished in roadside eateries?”  Even before I attempted to answer, she said, “oil sachets are just dropped in to the wok and after a while, when the plastic cover melts and the oil spills into the wok, the plastic cover is removed”.  Why on earth should they do such things?  Is cutting a sachet and pouring oil such a difficult task? I discussed the same topic with several people that day.  My brother, who had worked with a firm manufacturing poultry feed and had visited several poultries during his tenure told me that, the dirt on the eggs I had seen that morning could be bird droppings.  Yuck.

I am not satisfied discussing this with just my family and colleagues.  I want as many people as possible to know how unhygienic the bakeries and roadside eateries are.  Kindly share this information with as many people as possible.

LOVE AUR DHOKA

I wrote this blog a few months ago.  I was little skeptical about posting this. I shared the draft with my close friends and sought opinion. Surprisingly, while my male friends advised me against it, my female friends encouraged me to go ahead.

My perception about love, courtship and marriage are all idealistic.  I observe couples and try to understand their love and loyalty for each other.

Several years ago, a colleague rushed to my table immediately after she entered office in the morning and sought my permission to use the phone.  I had a direct dialing facility whereas she had to seek the operator’s assistance. 

She picked up the phone and asked the person on the other end “Are you fine?  I am so scared. Please don’t ask me any questions.  I can’t explain. Just listen.  Don’t drive to your office.  Please hire an auto.  Am I clear?  Call me after you reach.”

As she spoke, tears rolled down her cheeks. Wiping tears, she thanked me.  Looking at her anxiety, I asked “All is well?” In an emotional tone she replied; “The flowers from my plait fell down as I was on my way to office and soon after I reached, my bangle broke and I consider these bad omens.  I am very sentimental about these things and I foresee a danger, so I have cautioned my husband.” she replied.  I was very surprised with her sentiment.  Being single, I could not comprehend her feelings. I had never seen my mother, sisters-in-law or sister, expressing such sentiments at home.  This episode reminded me of a discussion I had with a prospective groom years before.  He was of the opinion that a working woman can never be a faithful and a committed wife.  I was very offended by his statement and argued with him that people carry their values wherever they go.  To be honest, looking at my colleague’s anxiety and concern, I was very happy that Sati Savitri kind of women still existed.

Over a period of time, this colleague in reference flirted with every Tom, Dick and Harry.  There was also a rumour about a serious affair. It was very shocking to me as I had formed a different opinion about her based on the telephonic conversation she had with her husband and also I thought only men philander.

During all these years of my professional life in different organizations across industries, in my social circle and neighbourhood, I have met several Savita Bhabhies disguised as Sati Savitris. There is something common in all these women.  They are all very expressive of their love for their husbands.  They never complain about the husbands in public.  They wear all religious symbols like Sindhoor, kumkum, mangalsutra, rings and toe-rings.  They fast for their families, particularly the husbands, but simultaneously get involved with someone else and have fun. I am really curious as to how they manage things so well; their men, emotions and guilt pangs if any.  Surprisingly, not many discuss about these kinds of affairs.

What two consenting adults do with their lives is nobody’s business including me.  I am just thinking aloud.  

Is love temporal? Or can it happen several times or it’s just a concept like many other things?