Warning! Long post…read at your own risk.

When we were being taught about management skills and principles we generally snorted at team work, coordination and cooperation. I have often seen government officers following autocracy, like they indulged during colonial rule. I have seen software professionals; some of them are capable of doing the work of three to four persons alone. I have never seen them staying in office beyond 5:30. Sooner or later they are given the recognition due to them. That they meet the deadlines without overstaying. Where does that leave for team spirit and team playing? Most of the time, a PL or GL are hovering on your head, asking, “Hun, now what? How much progress?” If this PL or GL is satisfied with you, your requirements are taken care of. Otherwise you will be doing insignificant projects, your PC will not be updated and what not……..And the less is said about HR people the better it is.

All this made me very skeptical about team spirit. I never knew, watching a programme on TV will leave a positive impact. I was watching “Moonwalk” on history channel. They were showing Neil Armstrong and his walk on moon, and then they followed it up with the story of “Apollo 13.”

Apollo 13 was launched on April 11 1970. It was the third mission aimed at landing two astronauts on the Moon. After 55:55 minutes into the mission, the crew reported hearing a loud ‘bang’. This was followed by a rapid loss of oxygen and power. From this point onward the mission was no longer about landing men on the moon; it was about returning the three astronauts safely to earth in a spacecraft that was slowly abandoning its friends.

It seemed the crew members were about to be condemned to a journey till eternity, orbiting the universe, just like an inanimate satellite. But what unfolded in front of the TV screen was the finest example of team spirit, courage, cooperation and coordination. The very concepts I kept ridiculing till date.

I felt a little guilty and ashamed of myself. If there were not hundreds of engineers, flight controllers, programmers………………what would have happened to the crew members? What we know and see are few astronauts!! How each and every one was interested in the safe landing of the crew. How the whole of America’s technocrats were putting their heads together to find a solution to the problem. (After that “successful failure”, some of them asked, “Don’t you have a suicide capsule for such situations!?”) Most of the ex-NASA staff was there, just to ask if they could have been of any help.

They were determined to maintain the record, that NO American life was lost in the space.”

What the leader of a country (a sworn enemy of USA at that time) did and said? “Premier Aleksei N. Kosygin sent a message saying: “I want to inform you (U.S. Government) the Soviet Government has given orders to all citizens and members of the armed forces to use all necessary means to render assistance in the rescue of the American (Apollo 13) astronauts.” And here, what our own Foreign Minister is doing and saying! Its another example of team work perhaps!

What I read in “The Asian Age” about out esteemed Foreign Minister Mr. Natwar Singh.
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New Delhi, July 26: India has been singled out for a strict warning from the captors of the seven truck drivers, including three Indians, not to make any irresponsible comments against the mujahideen battling US occupation forces in Iraq if it wants to save the lives of its nationals. The warning is a clear reference to external affairs minister K. Natwar Singh’s statement on Saturday that the kidnappers did not appear to be a political group, “but some irresponsible persons who are doing it for monetary gain.”…………………………………………

The brother of hostage Sukhdev Singh told The Asian Age in Chandigarh on Sunday that the family had become even more concerned about the safety of their kin after Mr Natwar Singh’s statement that the captors were petty criminals. The brother asked, “To what purpose is the mantri making such statements?”

At a time when our minister should tread every step very carefully, by his irresponsible (but when does he act responsible?!) utterances he is not only making the task of the negotiators difficult, he is also jeopardizing the lives of the hostages.

I see this plant,
Made up of non natural fibers,
When I switch on the light,
It starts spreading its beauty.
People call it a fancy lamp,
But it�s my nylon tree.

I plant it in an electric socket,
Instead of soil.
When the connection is exact,
It sparkles and circulates
Romantic dim lights,
Lulling me into a sedative slumber.

Last night,
I had trouble sleeping.
I looked up to this synthetic tree,
To soothe me.
Welcome me, entice me into a sleep.
But it had done nothing.

I looked at it accusingly,
Quelling the strong urge to fight
With it, for not fulfilling the promise.
Its antennae picked up
My infra fighting signals,
And it laughed aloud,
Mocking me openly.

I glared at its audacity,
But he answered my unasked question,
�Listen Lady, have you ever asked questions to yourself?

�What?� inquired my eyes.
�Why you never say –
I am bored stiff of this blue sky?
I am tired of the wind.
I am sick of that banyan tree?
I am weary of that river?
This moon has lost it�s glory?
That rose garden has become irksome?�

�Why you very easily say,
I am fed up of this TV.
I feel nauseous of this DVD.
I am bored to death of this lamp?�

BECAUSE…….
�I am the creation of a mere mortal, Like you.
I AM NOT THE NATURE�S CREATION.
Go back to the lap of
The good old MOTHER NATURE.
SHE will sing you lullabies,
AND LURE YOU INTO A CHARMING SLEEP.�

I have gone for shopping. I have purchased my stuff. I am about to make payment. Just pulling out money to finalize the deal between a shopper and shopkeeper. But wait, someone, from my Goan (village) spotted me, and started canvassing, “Didi, please purchase these things from my store. I provide better deals in the same price.”
My heart melts. What if he is unmindful of the professional ethics? He must be benefited if I belong to the same place.

When I was reading this, “Italians push AJT sale even after Hawk deal signed”, New Delhi: An Italian company Aermacchi has written to defence minister “Pranap Mukherjee” offering to supply the M-346 state-of-the-art new generation advanced jet trainer to India even though New Delhi has signed and sealed the deal for the British Hawk. Indian pilots are already in the UK for the first round of training but Aermacchi, in a letter written on June 22, is given to “understand that a decision on the acquisition of an AJT has not been finalised yet.”

My heart went out for Italliwallah. He must gain something. Shouldn’t he?
Don’t worry if it does not happen even in a street’s Paan shop. Central Government should not be questioned on from where the Italians derived such audacity to canvass when the Indian pilots are already in England to get the training ? Shouldn’t they be called back and sent to Italy for training? That is the least, we Indians can do for a great family, who had made so many sacrifices for us. And still, they are ready and willing to serve us, the mere mortals.

I watched a movie few days ago. Suddenly I remembered reading something very good on Pinocchio. After few searches, located the article.
==============================================
Heartwarming Tale of a Puppet’s Search
By Marguerite Theophil

The magical, almost otherworldly streets of Florence are lined with shops selling Puppets. Pinocchio is everyone’s favorite. Wide-eyed and long nosed, his fixed bemused smile suggests he is not too sure of his much-publicized desire to become a ‘real boy’ – he seems to beg you to take him with you. And many do. Over a hundred years after he was ‘created’, Pinocchio’s dream of being wanted, of belonging comes true – again and again. What is it about this simple story that has caught our fancy?

Disney’s version of the story begins with a lonely carpenter Gepetto, longing for a child. He carves out a wooden puppet-child for himself. The book itself starts out somewhat differently, with the carpenter discovering a block of wood in his workshop that talked, laughed and cried like a child. According to psychiatrist Gaylin and Lorenzini this beginning is simpler, yet ultimately more sophisticated: a metaphor for a parent who is given a newborn with potential within, but still hidden. The Disney fantasy of the human creation of life parallels the everyday miracle that is human development.

Margaret Blount, an authority on children’s literature, points out that Pinocchio “fall from grace with the monotonous regularity of most humans”. His failings and blunders are allegories for the slow and painful process of ‘growing up’. The underlying theme of Pinocchio’s desire and attempts to ‘become human’ replicate every human being’s journey. He has to learn to hear the voice of conscience and ignore outwards distractions, which are symbolized in the story, by the character, Cricket.

On his journey, Pinocchio, learns his limitations. There are moments of helplessness – he sleeps too near a fire and his feet being wooden, get burnt. He learns the value of work when he turns into a donkey and must work like one. His nose, which grows uncontrollably whenever he tells a lie, teaches him the power of lying as well as its painful consequences. The environment acts on him as much as he acts on the environment, and the exchange slowly provides him with the clues to becoming truly human.

The blue-haired fairy plays a very special role in Pinocchio’s life. She teaches Pinocchio about love in its many forms. The wooden one first meets the fairy when assassins are pursuing him. He sees a house in the distance, runs towards it and knocks wildly with fear. A window opens and he sees the fairy, in the guise of the beautiful child. She, however, shuts the window and the assassins capture him. Her role is not that of rescuer here; she leaves him to fend for himself so that he can learn to be independent. She later takes on a more maternal role, and acts particularly tough when it comes to his lying. Though she seems to forgive all, and her compassion serves as a model for her charge, she still has to get him to learn that being loved is only one of loving. He must still learn to change enough to love in return. Pinocchio wonders why fairy changes so much from encounter to encounter but he never seems to change. The fairy tells him that it is people who grow; puppets never grow, they are born as puppets, live as puppets and die as puppets. In one particularly poignant moment later in the story, the puppet recognizes the fairy despite her unfamiliar appearance. When she wants to know how, he says, “It was my great affection for you that told me.” Pinocchio too, it seems , is changing.

It is Pinocchio acquisition of a ‘good heart’ that brings about his transformation. Pinocchio continues to do good and bad, because he becomes human, not a saint, but his newly developed capacity for love and empathy, and above all, hope, is what finally makes him real.

Showering his transitory love
On anyone,
Who catches his fancy,
For a while.

Methodical enough,
To divide a whole into
A pair of Lips,
Whose touch captivates him.

Another whole into
A pair of Eyes,
Which enchants him.

Another whole into
Brains,
Whose intellect baffles him.

Another whole into
36-24-36,
He cannot get enough of IT!

Another whole into
A pair of globes,
Those tempting lumps
Drive him wild!

Very innocently
He says,
My body belongs
To anyone,
Who has nothing to offer,
Except good looks.
My heart to you and only you.
And my soul to someone else!
A cherished one!
Yet he declares
The presence of great harmony
In his life.

I was returning back to a place you crave for when you stay away from it for long. My legs were moving to a destination called home. I was jostling with crowd at this big metro station. Heat and tiredness was killing me. The pollution in the city makes sure that if you pick up somebody at the airport, take her home, and then see her off at the railway station again in a short span of few hours, you don’t look as if you have been breathing the Alps air. I could visualize my room and a very inviting bed from the railway bridge. This imagination hastened my steps.

Suddenly, I spotted a child. She was wearing a cute orange dress, sporting a Mickey Mouse like spectacles and her cheeks were totally pink. A sudden smile played on my lips, but not for long. I froze on my tracks, if it could be called my track with thousands moving at the same railway platform bridge. She was crying horse, “I want my mummy! I want to go to her!” She was running like a caged animal, though the whole bridge or platform was open for her to roam free — an exciting option for her in totally different circumstances. But she was sprinting making a cross, not leaving that self inflected short space.

I took a few steps towards her; a small logical part of my brain cautioned me to mind my own business. Just like others, who were minding their own businesses and moving ahead. My legs tried to obey that voice for a while, but soon I lulled that logical part into sleep. But my heart was heavy with grief; why my legs listened and obeyed even for few seconds? But at that time, I was not allowed that luxury to delve into the depth of reasoning. But I was late by a fraction of a second. She was being talked to by two strangers. One can be termed smart by this world’s yardstick. He was wearing the right kinds of clothes and shoes and sporting right kind of hairstyle. His complexion was right too — it was sun-kissed brown. Another person, who was asking her something, was looking horrible. He was dark-complexioned; his hair was curled in every possible way. He was wearing glasses with dark blue lences. I was afraid, suddenly.

The trio started moving. In the meantime, the child was howling continuously, but it could easily be mistaken for pushiness for a treat of candy or ice-cream, unless you were close by and could hear clearly, “I want my Mamma.” A wish that might never be fulfilled, if she had chosen a wrong escort.

It was hard to keep pace with them in the vast ocean of humanity. I was trying to match steps with them, and continually wishing to catch sight of an RPF personnel. But like endangered tigers, they preferred to be invisible that day. But I needed one desperately. What if they were part of a gang and howled the child in a waiting vehicle. What would I do then? Ok, I could hardly afford to be a disappointed tourist of Corbet National Park and blame it on my ill luck that I could not get a glimpse of a tiger. I was making mental note that I will shout with all my might and jostle down the number of the vehicle. Now we were descending the steps. And the man wearing the offending spec was taking two steps at a time, swinging the girl in his left arm.

We were on platform no 1 now. It seemed as if I had been taking a walk since the time immemorial. But it ended and when I read “Service Center” I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I was at par with them now. The two guys were not part of any evil design but were concerned for the safety of the child. A great wave of relief engulfed me completely.

I took hold of the girl’s delicate arm and asked about her mom and dad’s name. Sensing a female presence and hearing a female voice distracted her for a while. I was greedy enough to fill in the baby’s head with some soothing talks like everything will be alright and her mom and dad would be here soon. I asked about the train she was supposed to board, and it turned out to be the same one by which my cousin was traveling. I rang her mobile immediately and asked her to talk to the guard to delay the train. Meanwhile, I patted that fellow wearing “nice blue colored lenses” verbally. The hunk was asked by the RPF personnel to wait. The fellows sitting at the reception were not the usual insensitive type. They offered the little girl a chair and a glass of water. The announcer was relaying the message regarding that beautiful small wonder.

I could not keep track of the time. But sometime later a decent looking but haggard fellow, slouching slightly, appeared inside the announcing booth. Before saying anything he spotted his apple of eye. I could sense the unshed tears and relief in his voice. “Beta, I was looking for you everywhere.” But she was distracted by something and could not listen those magical words, she was dreaming to hear. An officer immediately restrained him. He could not go near his own child. In this deceitful world, he had to furnish some proof. By some mystery his girl turned and gave a delightful cry, “Daddy!!!” It silenced the need for further proof. He immediately hugged her close to his chest as if to never let go of her.

I don’t know where I kept the hidden reservoir of tears. They were threatening to spill out. But that would be stupid. So I controlled it. But it was not a good idea. My body started shaking, as if it were a bitingly cold December night, and not the start of June. Someone asked me, “Are you related to her?” Shaking my head I came out and starting walking to my destination. When I was within the safe confines of my boundary, I cried to my heart’s content, remembering my mother, her scoldings and threats that she would slap me tightly, if I tried to let go of her hand in any crowded place. How I scoffed at her then!

Why couldn’t I keep pace with the rest of the three? Was it a male strides and female strides thing? NO. I am not a slow walker. But that day, I was wearing yellow sandals with high heels, like a totally stupid person. All of us can witness true India on a railway platform of any metro city, including its great asset: the human resource and the greatest liability too – the population SIZE. I was hoping a smooth and speedy sail in that turbulent sea called humanity. All of these factors made a speedy walk with those high heels almost impossible. I made a silent promise to myself, “ I will NEVER wear high heels where I am supposed to walk so much carrying not so light a luggage.