The Weather up there!

'Boredom' is the cause of this post coming today! Nothing on earth, but that experience itself can describe what I felt up there in my first ever tandem skydive! But I decide to write about it today, as I lie here on my bed, with nothing to do - enough of googling and ogling (!!!) has led me to reach this state; just decided to get back to some writing today!

After about two months of contemplating, complaining and convincing, the day finally came! Three of us room-mates could gather the courage to go ahead with the idea of jumping from 12000 feet up in the air - no strings attached! Yes, You heard it right! It was a jump from up there, from a Cessna aircraft that didn't even have a door!

We reached the Umm-Al-Quwain Aero Club, UAE (about a 45 minute drive from International City, Dubai where we reside!) at about 10:45 am, on the hot (@45 degrees Celcius) and sunny morning of 20th of August, a day before my birthday. We were there just over an hour before the slotted time for our jump. Ready to welcome us to the club was the receptionist, who didn't bother to react to our enthusiasm! It was as if only the three of us, Adi, JD and I were excited about the whole thing. Well, we spent the next hour or so filling out some forms, a few disclaimers, making the payments (I'll come to this part later) and clicking a few snaps of previous 'SUCCESSFUL' skydivers and the airplane models hanging from the ceiling. Believe me I was hungry, but for once, was scared to eat! I had no idea what it would feel like (inside the stomach) during a freefall from 12000 feet!

It was time for our jump when the man behind the counter led us to a door and directed us towards the training room, where we would be trained before the jump. We went through a high fenced area, something that looked like an ultra-high security region. After a few signatures, we passed a door that opened straight onto a small runway - probably where our aircraft wold be taking off from. A few clicks more, and we were inside the training room. Eugene (spelt Yevgeny - Russian origin, but bred in London) welcomed us who was sitting comfy on a couch watching a Mallu flick with his mate, Sujith, the souvenir shop caretaker. We were informed by Eugene that Steve, the videoman would be arriving only at 12.

Anxious to gear up and get out in the open, we got going with the training of each of us with Eugene, the tandem describing to us what to do when and at what indication from him. Man! You can bet anything on earth, I was listening to him when he said 'At 12000 feet, you won't be able to hear me! The only indication I will be giving you, will be a pat on the back and that's when you have to.....' And the instructions continued for a brief 15 minute minute rehearsal!

And then it happened! With JD going in first and then Adi, my turn came in last! Both of them had had a ball in the air! And they were back single piece! But for me it was 'my balls in the air' at that moment when Steve announced 'You're next'!

The jump...

In the small four seater plane, after ascending for about 10 minutes, I looked at Steve while he didn't seem bothered, kept playing with his photographic gadgets in his hand. I looked out, thinking that this must be close to about 10,ooo feet, so it must be about time for me to get ready with the parachutes. The adrenaline started rushing a li'l faster as I thought. But something changed that when I was told by Steve that it was only 3000 feet high! We had to go up by about 4-times the height before we jump! That, I tell you was the scariest moment mid-air! Didn't I dare look out of the window after that!

Well, it was time now. 12000 feet up in the air, The videoman, Steve hanging out on the wheel of the Cesna, ready to jump. I was made to sit at the doorstep with my tandem tied to me!

Three... Two... One... And Go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!!!!!

Wooooooo---haaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!! There I was!!! My life came to a standstill for those few seconds! Out of the aircraft, toppled for a second as if lying on my back in the heavens, I could see the aircraft go higher n higher as I descended. Then something turned me back to face the ground again. The skin of my (skinny) hands flapped like those in a Jackie Chan's classic! All I could hear was a continuous LOUD gush or air rush past me!

60 seconds of freefall till we reached a height of 4000 feet and then a joy-ride on the parachute opening!

I must say that anything I write now will be just under-stating the adventure!

See it to feel it, to believe it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iz2cSIr6T6c. This video brings the chills back even today!!! You can also watch this video at the side panel of my blog page!

You can check out the pics as well of the whole adventure at: http://picasaweb.google.com/Akshat.Dimri/Dubai_SkyDiving

1000 Dirhams for the jump including insurance plus 400 dirhams for the videoman to jump alongside, his skill of maintaining himself at the same height and taking the video and pics all along the way plus a few bucks here n there is what we spent! But believe me folks - every penny that we spent on it was worth it!

And what better a birthday gift could I give myself!

Speeds of upto 250 kilometers an hour mid-air, free fall for majority of the distance and a safe landing at a ground speed of 60 kms an hour left me speechless!

And now I can say; the weather up there was just fine :)

Sivaji The Boss. (of... ????) - Take # 2

I happen to be a regular visitor at the CNN IBN website's blog section. Just about a week ago, I was going through Anuradha Sengupta's latest blog on Sivaji the movie, which she had (well, not-so-aptly) called 'Sivaji! The Boss. of CRAP'. I suggest that you go through the blog to get a hang of the whole situation. Well, even if you choose not to, here's an excerpt of her views on the movie, which pretty much summarizes it. I quote: "Except for some quirky graphics and some stylish sequences - one song in particular that I am going to refer to as the GORA song - which was crazy, funky and scary, Sivaji was the boss. Of crap. And I am the pig. Who followed the herd." Well, comments to the post said it all. As I remember that day (about five days ago), there were close to 165 people who had voiced their opinion to Anu and Boy! They really had voiced it in print! As an after-effect of the comments, most of which said that Anu does not have the right to post such 'personal' views on a media as big as CNN IBN, she promptly started her own "personal" blog, senguptaspeaks.

This blog happens to have a staggering 1769 comments as of now, probably increasing as I write!

'Thank you Sivaji' and 'Life after Sivaji' were follow-ups on CNN IBN by our dear Anu that you would want to read if you haven't already!

Well, so far was a brief of what happened! My take on this is pretty simple - As a global mass media website, CNN IBN website should have refrained from posting that piece. Now that it has happened, I feel Anuradha has done her bit quite well in starting her own "personal" blog and in strongly emphasizing that it's her personal viewpoint that is highlighted and not a public opinion or a movie review. I feel this was where the whole issue went out of control; the fact that readers sub-consciously linked Anuradha's viewpoint with CNN IBN, which again, I think was not wrong! If you post a blog on CNN IBN, it is taken as an official view, and this being a post about a movie, it came out as an absolute film review than a personal viewpoint! But she was prompt enough to highlight this in her response - 'Thank you Sivaji's, point # 1. (What an end to that post - Anu, the pig with balls - a must read for those who haven't!) But here's what I have to say to Anu - I completely and very strongly reject your use of the word 'crap' on a public forum like the CNN IBN. Even if it was, as you say, your personal viewpoint, I do not appreciate your usage of words like 'crap' and 'The pig that followed the herd'. Such lingos may qualify for usage on your personal page, but certainly not on a CNN IBN page, immaterial of what! I think that was devastating for the fan following out there! I feel that as long as folks enjoy the movie, it's a hit, and there are no second thought about it being good as well! Immaterial of its content, of how much 'crap' it has and how much of 'shit' it contains! As long as the 'pig follows the herd', I think the movie has made a mark! And in this case, I feel that Sivaji has done wonders! And I'm sure the fan following grows as we speak. For a fact, I am a huge fan of Amitabh Bachchan but I don't really appreciate / support any form of comparison between the two biggies - the 'Big B' with the 'Boss'. I myself haven't seen the movie, but looking at the reviews and the responses to Anuradha's post here makes me believe that Rajni is no less than Amitabh for me - both are the 'baaps' of all actors.

Come on, Anu - how can you call him or the movie 'crap'! If Rajni is crap because of the many 'unrealistic' acts of his, then I have a few thoughts in mind:

1. Superman is crap as well: How the hell can a man fly!!! 2. Spiderman is crap too: How on earth can a man throw a flurry of cob-webs from his fists! 3. What about our very own Harry Potter: Is it realistic for someone to fly on a broom? Is all this wizard-thingy not crap? - This one can still be exempted, as it's a wizard, and is meant to be unnatural! 4. Isn't the Matrix fame Neo - 'The one' crap too then?

For someone of the stature of Anuradha Sengupta to have opined on a public media channel was, at best immature, I feel! Should I call that a hunt for publicity? I reiterate that as a personal view, she is dead right; she has the right to express anything she wants to, but all that on CNN IBN? - A big NO-NO.

Coming back to the comparison factor, I have here for you a few facts that I could manage on a little bit of a research on the internet, “If I am King, Amitabh is the emperor” were the famous words from the South Indian superstar himself. Now how humble can one get! After a petty comparison by one TV channel, Rajnikant revealed in public that he happens to be a dedicated fan of the Banarasi Babu and that never in his dreams can he appreciate even the slightest of comparisons being made! I personally don't feel there is a need to bring out the statistics for either of the two. They have been Bollywood demigods for me and many all along. But since a comparison is the order of the day, for the benefit of the readers, lets indulge into some of it! ;)

After all, what is it that makes an actor the best in class? Is it his acting? His popularity? His good looks? His height? His voice? His celebrated background? What is it that brings us to a verdict on an actor being the best! This is what makes me think twice when I want to come to a decision on 'Who's the best'!

Rajni and Amitji! Well, is it Rajni? Is it Amitabh? For a few facts on both, attached below is a collated list that I could get to after a little googling and blogging! (I take these as trusted sources, so cannot really question the credibility) Having been an ardent Amitabh fan all my life, statistics like this make me think more than just twice when it comes to a 'Who is the best?' scenario! That question, I guess will remain unanswered for a lifetime.

But at the end of the day, back to where I started, and the whole purpose of this post, I would like to commend and applaud Ms. Anuradha Sengupta for her guts and her style of writing! If you feel for something, go out there and say it! Keeping CNN IBN out of the whole picture, I completely respect Anu's view and at the same time, I add a little fuel to the fire by saying (as a "personal" viewpoint!!!) that I frankly find Rajnikant's character a little 'annoying' at best, but I am silenced by the facts and figures that I myself find hard to believe. I find these figures speaking for themselves. But Anu - not in a lifetime do you owe any apology to the mass for expressing your viewpoint. Just that there could have been a little extra care taken regarding the medium used for the same.

Rajni needs no introduction, nor does Bachchan. Both of them deserve to be there, right at the top and both of them deserve the accolades on their respective crowd-pulling power. Not in the remotest of dreams should we think of comparing the two demigods in their own way. It's like comparing an apple to an orange!

To (B/T)ollywood and all the BOSSES, I doff my hat!

Murphy's Law explained!!!

Now this is a fairly big post - might as well become part of a book some day! Try reading until the end in one go! I hope I'm able to hold you until then. This comes from one of those ‘once-in-a-lifetime’ experiences that I had just over a month ago; the 25th of June, 07'. And what better setting could it possibly be, than the Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport, Mumbai!

All I can remember of that day now when I look back is the famous Murphy’s Law:

If SHIT has to happen, no matter what, it will happen!!!

In short, Shit happens!

This was my version of the law! Well, 'shit' started happening a night before in Kanpur, when the handle of my 30 kg suitcase gave up and I had to drag it from the sides. Looking at the journey staring right into my face (Kanpur --> Delhi --> Bombay, in the middle of a rain-storm --> Dubai, probably in the middle of a sand-storm and God-knows-where in Dubai), I had reason enough to believe it wasn't wise to continue with a handle-less suitcase, and hence came about a spot decision to order a new one at Delhi! Well, this was just the easier bit of the ordeal - to call up my friend, Rajvir uncle, who happens to be Papa's work colleague, but more of a friend to me, and ask him for a favour. And you bet it was one wise decision I took. You will realise how this decision made my life a lot lot easier down the lane.

Well, back to where I started writing this post, Delhi saw me leaving with a few tears in Mummy's loving eyes and the proud look on Papa's face! 'Take good care son, and beware of the wrong people and the wrong habits! Do your best and God will take care of the rest' were the usual departing words, which have always and always meant the most to me. The 'I'll miss you Dad, Mom' apart, I was looking forward to this new place called Dubai. As it happened, I was to catch my flight from Mumbai the next morning at 1300 hours - an Airbus A320, Air India flight it was to be.

After the night with a darling old friend, Chahana and family at Lokhandwala Complex, thanks to the Mumbai rain-premonition, it didn't take me much time to figure out that taking the earliest auto rickshaw would be a good idea to make sure I reach well within time for my flight (the international reporting time for Air India being 2 and a half hours). I was expecting to see a couple of friends there, Srikant & co., who were on the same flight. And as it always happens, when you have all the time in the world to spare, there is no traffic, there is no rain, you tend to find all the traffic signals green and all the positive things! Well, so far I seemed to be well on way towards my dream destination.

The auto dropped me at the airport at 0830 hours, a good two-and-a-half hours even before my reporting time. Although realising the over-punctuality, I headed straight to the check-in counter, assuming I was right on time, ignoring any side-glances from the airport staff, who knew that the first Dubai flight was only at 1330. And no irony here, I was promptly told to report to them not before 1100. Having nothing to do for the next 2 and a half hours, I wandered around, checking out the place, checking out the people. All of a sudden, all the beautiful women seemed to have disappeared from Bombay. Well, at least from the airport! Absolutely dry it was inside there, as compared to the heavy rains that I could see through the clear glass gates! Who could've imagined that I would be out there getting drenched with my luggage (yes, including my new suitcase) in a few hours from now in the same rain!

Well, the next two hours were quite uneventful as I had, by then, scanned through all the shops, couldn't even check-in so that I could've gone to the better ones at the duty free shops! I had some extra Indian rupees, about Rs. 700, part of which I thought would be good to spend on a set of Tantra tees at the one of the shops. I did have a safety stock inside my big suitcase, so there wasn't much hesitation in spending that amount then. The balance , I spent making a few phone calls - friends and home. Did I mention that Mom n Dad had just reached Chandrapur and did not have a contact number, that being their first day? The only way I could connect to them was Papa's old cell phone, which would be with him for a few more hours. I, having stayed in India only for 10-odd days, did not have a local sim card.

1105 it was, when I made my fourth trip to the check-in counter and finally she agreed to take me in! The usual stuff, an uninterested glance at my face with my passport's photograph-page-open in her hands, she asked, 'So, first time Dubai?' I said with an assumed smile, 'Yes Ma'am', trying to build up a rapport instantly as I knew I was well above the luggage limit by about 7-8 kilos. She smiled and then, for some odd reason, her smile changed into a grin. Quizzically I looked at her and then at the seemingly senior officer who was standing behind her across the counter. And so did even his expression change to a grin! I had no clue what was so un-funny in my passport that un-smiled them both instantly. And the next five words from her that now make me laugh, were, 'Sorry Sir, you cannot take this flight!'

'Ha!!!' is exactly what my expression was, on her seemingly stupid remark! 'Sorry Sir, you cannot take this flight!', I repeated in my mind. I didn't know she was not kidding! What I gathered from our next conversation was that I needed an ECNR (Emigration Check Not Required) stamp on my passport. Now this was a shock to me. I clarify my stand here that I'm not as stupid to be at an airport traveling to Dubai without an ECNR stamp. It was one full day that I had spent standing in the queue to get the same stamped at Pune Passport Office, Senapati Bapat road, only to be told by the CPO that the system had been scrapped and that no country needs an ECNR now! I had not bothered to ask anyone about it after that. But this woman behind the counter, and the 6 immigration officers I talked to after her claimed that all gulf countries still needed the stamp. They were obviously doing their job, but it was a disgusting situation where they say flat on your face something like 'Sorry Sir, you cannot take this flight!' Ridiculous!

Even though I'm not a believer of breaking the system to get things done, but at this moment I desperately thought if there was a way! In the desperation to catch the flight, I went to the extent of asking the chief immigration officer (CIO) if there was an "alternative" that I could get away with, but only to be given a shrewd stare and a 'Kid, d'you have any idea who you're talking to' kind of a look! I backed out. But there was a legal way of getting out of this mess. About 20 kilometers from the airport, in Santacruz (E) was this place called Khiranagar where I could get a temporary stamp. According to the locals and my dear CIO, it would take me at least an hour and a half to go, get the job done and come back. Now when he said this, there was that expression again on his face which said 'Kid, that's the only thing you can possibly do, or you better find a hotel in the city to stay overnight!' And not to forget, he had a clear hint of 'you will have to pay a "little extra" here and there to beat the system'. And boy! Dead right was he! Plus there was this added burden of carrying my luggage with me all around the city in the heaviest of rains it had seen after the famous 26th June floods!

Well, it would have been defying the Murphy's law if I had to make it back to the airport on time! One thing that definitely went in my favour was the brand new easy-to-carry suitcase :) With the 350 odd bucks that I had with me in my pocket, and with no cash machine nearby, it seemed impossible to arrange for the to-and-fro trip with the 'little extra'. Srikant, one of my classmates came to my rescue here who could manage Rs. 900 and his sim-card (which never worked eventually) out of his pocket. That made it about 1250 that I had in all. One phone call to Dad describing the situation, 4 autos, a taxi, bribing 2 brokers and two and a half hours of the Bombay rain saw me return to the airport at 1320, about 5 minutes after the aircraft gates had closed! Needless to mention that I had wasted about 5-10 minutes bargaining with the taxi driver and a broker - not because I liked bargaining, but because I did not have any cash! In fact, the latest auto driver had to be consoled with my last 2-dollar (Singapore) note that I had kept as a memento. That was the only option I had, when my cash fell short of the meter reading by about 70 bucks!

All this while, Dad had been trying his pull at the immigration office. There was no way I could contact him during my auto / taxi / bribe / rain bash. It was only on coming back to the airport, now with nothing to loose, I got in touch with the airport authorities to learn that there had been about 17 announcements on my name, with my Dad trying to get in touch! And Papa's voice on phone said it all; 'Where were you all this while!!! I've been getting announcements made for you! That ECNR thing could've been done in three minutes at the immigration desk itself!'.

Well! The expression on my face would've been best captured and preserved! Murphy's law! 'Shit' had just happened!

*** A 15-minute wait at the airport and I would've got Papa's announcements!

*** Had Srikant's sim card worked, things would've been a lot different! But hats of to that man, he did the best he could to help me! Will be ever so thankful to you, mate!

*** A 5-minute discussion with the Pune Passport Office officer 6 months ago (that was in my last India visit from UK) would've saved all the trouble!

*** A few more bucks in my pocket, a Tantra t-shirt less and I would've saved a good 10 minutes to be on the flight!

*** An old suitcase would've left me with 4500 rupees extra in my pocket, again giving me those extra few minutes to be in time for the flight!

*** Can't see why the check-in counter lady couldn't tell me all that she did about an hour before she actually did?

Yes, I saw that flight take off right in front of my eyes through the same gates from that showed me the rain in the morning. The same rain that me and my new suitcase were drenched in! It just had to happen that day!

All said and done, it was just a matter of Rs. 9745 and another 5 hour wait when I caught the 6 o'clock Air India flight via Delhi which had no air conditioners - a so-called technical snag!

(SH)it just had to happen! But the positive part - I now have a brand new VIP suitcase and a Tantra T-shirt!

Celebrating Womanhood!

This one is not something that came out of the blues! Well, thanks to my Mumma, who had this speech to make, addressing the Ordnance factory Board, Calcuta. Right in the middle of my GMBA (Global-MBA) here at Dubai, I get a (so-to-say) nervous phone call on a sleepy Sunday afternoon from her telling me about the speech! Needless to say, there was an expectation and dependance in her voice "My dear son, can you come up with something on 'Womanhood'? And I want it ASAP. I'll be leaving for Calcutta the day after tomorrow!" Given that Prof. Navneet Tandon from Raqmiyat, a local Consulting firm here had given us enough time for the week to plunge into, and ponder about our personal lives, I decided to take up the challenge! With a little research on the epics and a bit of googling, this is what I came up with - 'Celebrating Womanhood'. At places, this might sound like a school-boyish essay on 'Women', but I thought it to be worth posting! It does reflect my true feelings to a great extent! I must also give all due credit to the sketcher whose piece I have used here - the anonymous artist from the IT department of SPJCM, Dubai. So friends, this is how it goes...

Sitting under the 'Tree of Life', in is solitude was Maschya, the First Man. Depression, melancholy and misery were all that one could think of, to best describe his state. The modern world had only turned his solitude into oppression and tyranny. Man! Did he dread life to the core! He cursed his existence.

It was now, when kind-hearted Spenta Mainyu, created Maschyani, the first woman, who turned out to become Maschya’s wife, together with whom, he set up the first human household upon earth. Hence, evolved homes! And hence, evolved mankind!

When Spenta Mainyu first made man, he was noted in the heavenly world as a great designer. With the softer and finer clay and with his extraordinary craftsmanship, when he made woman, he was hailed by all as the best – an unparalleled moulder of all times.

Woman is the spectacle of creation. In this world wide web of the seven zones, the ‘Yugas’, she is still unequalled and unmatched in form and beauty. Breathing fragrance all around, she is the blossoming flower in the gardens of life. Woman is she who teaches man refinement. In ethical elevation, it is her who helps man grow. If there is a sole sustaining power of the man’s life, it is her. It’s the woman, who showers man with manhood. And that is when man becomes a MAN in his true sense. She is all that life is, for man. In the virtues of the heart, she excels man by-far. With loads of patience and endurance, far more than man can imagine, she silently bears the pain and hides her sorrow in her bosom and overwhelms her own tears. She dispels the gloom of the disheartened spirits around her. There is sparkle and there is charm, where woman steps in. Be it a darling baby sister, or an adorable girlfriend, a loving wife, or a caring mother. Any role she plays, a woman is a woman! She will always remain a woman. She will forgo her own comfort for the kind-hearted love of her dear ones and trains her siblings to virtue. This, friends, is what I feel a woman is! Man would be incomplete without a woman. This world would be incomplete without a woman. Long live the woman! The quote below (courtesy Google!) expresses it beautifully:

The right to love whom others scorn, The right to comfort and to mourn,

The right to shed new joy on earth,

The right to feel the soul's high worth,

Such woman's rights a God will bless,

And crown their champions with success।

I have the Power!!!

Cops, conmen, politicians, maybe a few of the great leaders from our past; I thought of them all, even going to the extent of Sophie Nevaeu or Prof. Robert Langdon for that matter in trying to think of a perfect example of restraint of power impressing people. But immaterial of what came to mind, there was some element missing. A missing link that would convince me of the fact that there are instances to prove that power, when restrained in its use brings out the best.

We happened to discuss the topic in the subtle yellow lighting of the living room of my house ‘We’ here refers to the three of us including my roomies - Kamal and Naveen. Kamal being the kind of a guy who would hit more keys on the laptop through the day than the number of breaths he takes, was busy chatting trying to put up a brave fight with some old mate, who didn't seem to be in agreement to his last post on the blog segment. Naveen, on the other hand was busy Orkutting, trying to figure out who this pretty lady ‘Lavanya’ is and how the hell is she related to one of his friends; I must mention that they happened to be first cousins, which they realised later – this case deserves a separate blog!

As part of the chat with his mate, Kamal happened to put across a small word asking him if he could think of an example of Restraint of Power best used. And a small seemingly innocuous line that he got back as a reply to it shook us all. For a moment there was complete silence in the room. Understandably not to remain for long, it was a silence that was soon followed by a rush of blood right through the hearts of the brains. It was like a sudden inundation of thoughts that just didn’t seem to stop. Whoever said that there’s always a silence before a storm, was correct, and all three of us knew that. We were experiencing it.

And I’m sure by now you must be wondering what was so impressive, or rather perplexing about the reply. It was just a line; a short and sweet definition of what Kamal’s mate, who later on turned out to be a role model for at least two of us in the room, thought about Restraint of Power.

“Every delicate piece of art is an example of restraint of Power”. At first heed, it really sounds like a casual remark passed by someone who doesn’t care a s**t about replying to what the one on the other side is trying to ask and replies just for the heck of it. But as we discovered, it wasn’t meant to be so. It was only later on, after a few moments of derision and silence, did we realised the depth and the hidden meaning of that harmless little one-liner.

Think about it. It’s not all at once that you’ll realise the immense profundity that this quote reflects. After it has sunk in a little, try and come back to the normal world and think about art in its entirety.