The Haddi Mode

2013 : Let me Lead...!

Many of us believed and thought that 2012 was one of the longest and toughest years in their lives. Some of us even took life changing decisions in the year and realized the ways to the real journey beyond the meadows and against the tides. Some of my friends were shattered in the first 10 days of the New Year and thought the 2012 cataclysm hasn’t deserted their lives.

Let’s stop winding the clocks back and ring in the New Year with some fresh pieces of music and few liters of wine.

So, the next question gets fired: ‘Huh! What is it that you got new?’

I don’t have anything new but I would like to share with you an inside story about people management in the leading institutions and industries in my country and abroad.

It is going the ‘Haddi’ (Read: Bone) way.  

The Haddi Fight

Recently, one of my close friends and advisor to life decisions was boarding an overseas flight to his work place. Every Business Unit Leader wants him to be the lead in his team. In interesting course of events, he coined this term when I asked so what does the Big Boss (Business Head) wants you to do?

And he said nobody knows what is to be done. But everyone wants the Haddi. And I was startled and said him to repeat the lexicon. Then he said in some clearer diction. HADDI He said everyone wants him in their team but no one bothers what and where the ‘Haddi’ wishes to go. We shared a good laugh and then the flight untwined its wings and kissed the clouds to the deserts of dates where oil is cheaper than milk…!

The Haddi and the Boss

Every working guy is like a Haddi today. The top administrators wish to have a multi-toothed gear with them who can shift numbers as the terrain changes. It is same as now an engineer (or an accountant) and then a logistics guy; Now a researcher and then a procurement guy. Every second organization including the art Industry is hunting Haddi. He sings well may even act, so take him on board. Here is a B.Tech with an MBA, take him board; may solve some shop floor problems.

So, when people come to me with their logic saying Multi-tasking is the new thing on the dash board, I smirk and say, “Do hell with the domain expertise and let the fire clouds from the oil tankers of some oil company shake hands with the clouds in the skies!!!”

Let’s come out of our offices and observe the Haddi thing in some personal arena. Your own sibling or you would be the haddi of the family if you or he/she is successful and single. Every aunt, neighbor or some distant relative would come to you with marriage, business or even career proposals and would like to get the haddi on their platter and precisely in the same order…

If you are not contended with whatever state of affairs you are onto and someone is coming for you and trying to pull you in his/her business, just smile and activate the Haddi Mode in your life…!

Sing aloud and join me:

Ek rang guniyo ka nirala,

Ek rang agyani...

Rang Rang me Hod Lagi hai,

Rang Rangi Manmani…

(Song : Des Mera Rangreziya Babu, Peepli Live, Composer : Indian Ocean)

Amit Purohit

The Lone Soldier

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Life has come too far...

My mind has been monotone these days as blunt and plain as a spread sheet I just saved and mailed to my boss. I planned to write an article about love; life and dreams. I ended up writing some poetry over it. Life has been changing all the times. It became evident to me when I found some old friend’s mail in my so called professional mail box. Life has come too far and changes undergone are too swift to be felt. The hustle and bustle of traffic around just seems to swell as days pass. The rivers either go dry or ruin every nook and cranny coming their way. People around me change before I switch between my SAP windows. The red color meant love before and now it signals some sort of delay in some junk of my project. The gliders I see today never kick me to be a pilot as it did when I was 5. Love too succumbed to the pace of life. The black berries are bitter than the cherries I used to relish on. The money in my salary a/c gives me a kick of joy for some seconds. But the pangs are endless when I see my neighbor making his son do geometry and trigonometry.

Life has really come too far. Some set of rules and an alien feeling of getting freed tends to be apocryphal all the time. The loop is set and we are in. Mice are ready; Cats keep chasing. Money and expectations go with the same nick. The only thing that remained the same is my old radio. It is playing now a track from Dev D:

‘kudrat muskurati hai meri nadani pe; Sarghoshi khud se karti hu main herani mein…!’

I deem of an article in motion…!

Life has come too far…
With memories to cherish and money at par
The old photographs make me cry
I used to sit next to her; no matter the teachers pass by
My old algebra textbook and the Shakespearean plays
Life shaped as spreadsheets with formulae at play
Those changing clouds and honey bees sting
With butterflies around; Ringa Ringa roses sing…
Dreams dwell as I see the glider go…
My pants all wet as I find the only coin in muddy row
My father’s fingers; my sister’s palm
And I miss my mother’s warmth…
Life became a station; trains come and pass
Tickets cost me more as I go far
Table clocks; Presentations; Mail boxes
Schedules; Bosses and some more taxes
Cheque Books; Wallets; Blackberries
Travel; Itinerary and some sundries
Love was on the way to loss
With the salary slip shooting beyond no cause…
Time kept running; Dreams keep playing
People keep moving; The smoke does the chewing…!

Amit Purohit The Lone Soldier
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My Old School

MY OLD SCHOOL


                                    We all love our alma mater. Isn’t it? And even some one who is left and lost in our alma mater. It may/can be our first love/infatuation. This ode is all about those mesmerizing thoughts of my old school. The blurred memories of the first day of my school are still in this engineering mind. Every one of my porpoises wept, but it was I who confronted the school gate with a smile on my face. I was fervent to learn the ABCs. The origin of the arduous feeling was to read those fancy advertising boards all round. I still remember the hand that kindled me with the knowledge of English and Mathematics. I was weak in performing subtraction, but my Mathematics teacher was no naïveté. She tried hard to imbibe her knowledge in me. The steps of my old school were not leveled properly. We always slipped to one or two of them and ended with a bruise on our knees. Still our peon personified that the faller is the real winner as he/she learnt a lesson every time he/she falls. There was a boy in our class who once rang the school bell exactly 5 minutes before the lunch break. It was the time of our academic era when we were neophytes in looking at watches. Lastly, I only miss the angel seated on the second bench of the girls’ row. Whenever I roll the cavalcade of time I always end it with this rosy chapter of my verve. We were good friends and I used to guide her in Algebra and Geometry. However I was a novice in the calculative crusade still I managed to challenge the tide. I am still in juxtaposition rendering the fact that was it my love or infatuation…?!?

There lies my old school where
I learnt my ABCs
There lies my class where
I learnt those tongue tizzies
My teacher taught me
To subtract and to add
To read and to write
To face problems with glad
Those cozy class rooms
That became the place to gloom
When the exams surround
With the chilled supervision around
There lie my school steps
That taught me never to regret
Even when you fall in a bet
As the faller is destined to get
There lies the ringing bell
That we use to bell
Always a minute before the recess
To get that extra minute in excess
Finally we come across the row
Where I met my first lady love
We used to rhyme this bow:
To be together in any flaw...!
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