Withered Rose IV

Indran was not the shy guy; he was the life of the party. Anitha’s presence had drastic changes in him least of which was his fluctuating grades. He was just different; he found the flowers to be fresher and the sky to be brighter and it all seemed to be a beautiful life. He seemed like one of her soft stuffed toys! Their first coffee was quite a scene, Indran had convinced the can
teen owner to wear an outfit and take his order in French. He later confessed that it was the only way he could tell her he knew proficient French. They seemed to be a couple but Anitha was just not ready to be in a relationship again. She fought through her inner demons. She liked Indran, but not romantically; just liked him the way pe
ople like to go to a beach in summer or drink hot chocolate in winter. She was definitely confused and it was this confusion that was the stem of Indran’s hope that she was THE one! She in never gave him any verbal signs ever expect suddenly saying, “I wish...“; and then stopping or flirting with his eyes. He was completely lost in her.

Indran had recommended [& extensively lobbied] for Anitha to be placed it the student committee and she appreciated the fame & popularity that came with it. Now he had even more excuses to spend time with her. She also loved the amusing and lively chatter with him. Indran could talk about

diffusion of inorganic waste in amoeba with as much enthusiasm as discovery of life on mars.

Anitha was several people at the same time. She was no eye turner but she was intelligent; care free and bubbly, and cheerful and impatient. At times she felt even she did not know who she was. Indran melted like butter to her 1000MW smile and people were beginning to notice h

er effects on Indran.
Indran had been extremely popular in college, and he had his own little network of spies who did his dirty work; from organising a flash strike in college to informing him the change of Dosa’a price in the canteen. He found a friend, who knew a friend who studied at St.Bede’s, Anitha’s School; Salman was filled with awe at the presence of Indran, it was out of respect that he accepted his invite for a party that Saturday. He found it strange that he was taken to Toxic, the most happening club at Chennai for free with Indran & his friends; and he felt uneasy on the barrage of questions Vishnu and Nazim were throwing at him about Anitha. He answered them dutifully. He noticed that Indran drank only orange juice and many people seemed to be gesturing hello’ to him. Vishnu Nambiar and Nazim Khan were the wingmen of Indran, one is junior and the other his batch mate. High on the free booze Indran offered, th

ey did not like it one bit when he walked out with Salman alone; they sat puddle in their alcohol. Salman broke news of Tariq and he could see that Indran did not like what he heard. He called Vishnu on his phone and asked him to drop Salman;

before which he looked straight into his eyes and said, “Not a word, Salman, Never again!” Salman wanted to caution him but was too unsettled to think further.

Irrespective of how drunk he

was the thought of his father sobered Vishnu Nambiar instantly. He was the grandson of MN Nambiar, the famous south Indian actor known for the Villain Characters he essayed. His father Mohan Nambiar was a prominent businessman at Coimbatore. Vishnu was an only son and was lavished from an early age yet taught to be a good Brahmin; being a strict Brahmin home ‘the idea of chicken’ had not penetrated him till college. The pudgy smart boy was saved from an awkward pole dancing session in the name of ragging by Indran and has been his lieutenant since then.

Nazim hailed from a poor family & lived on the outskirts of the city. He lost his father at a very early age and his mother was unwell now. He had a sister who lived in Bangalore with her husband; and it was debts from the marriage that made Nazim work every evening. Indran supported him several times with money and that was the first time Indran bought loyalty but would never be his last.


“This is not right, Anitha”, Arati screamed! “This will end up really bad!”
“What? I am not doing anything, we’re just friends!” Anitha retorted.
“Friends? Which friend does what he does for you? He may even do you assignments if you ask him to!”Arati was known for her sense of justice. She could not stand the presence of Indran though. It was not anything personal but general hatred for his being. Her family was Indian with roots in every part of the country. Her mom was from Assam and Dad from Rajasthan and they lived in Delhi, Pune & Hyderabad which made her more Indian than others and also a strong believer of Karma. She warned Anitha to explain the dynamics of their friendship to Indran before it becomes awkward.


It was Indran’s final year of law and Anitha’s third of journalism; and that was that fateful day, February 14, 2008 Indran walked into ‘Media Laws & Ethics’ class in a crisply ironed white with a red rose in his hand and called out:
“Anitha Basu!”
Everyone smiled at the look of a possible romance blossoming, and it had to be a yes; because Indran was asking. Some girls by the window shed a silent tear while the guys gasped in relief and also excitement. Arati was shell shocked and had the most bewildered expression, she covered her face; she didn’t have the guts to face what was next.

Indran continued: “There’s nothing in the entire world I want but you--and your precious love--All the materials things are nothing. I'd just hate to live a sordid, colourless existence-because you'd soon love me less--and less--and I'd do anything--anything--to keep your heart for my own--I don't want to live--I want to love first, and live incidentally...

”

Brain freeze!!

Withered Rose III

Julia Silverman was smoking hot by any standards. Her golden hair hung across her round face and she wore a pinstripe black business suit. Julia waited excitedly at the lobby of Mal’s Manhattan Penthouse & was awestruck at the beauty of the place. She was wise beyond years and loved the chase in the corporate Cat & mouse game; not many wondered why this 37 year old feminist she had worked her way through an MBA from Havard and come to work for some very rich Arab as his PR manager in the United States.

“Good Morning, Ms.Silverman”, Mal said with a grin and walked over to the dining table and gestured her to sit. Paul stood beside him.
“Hello Mr.Malik, It’s so kind of you. I have heard a lot about you!” She tried to make it sound genuine but Mal could sense her deep dislike of men. Mal took little notice of her nonchalance and continued as they ate breakfast. She sat opposite him in the balcony facing central park and explained that her client regarded this matter of

utmost importance and expected Mal to understand the secrecy of her visit. She also went on to explain the legal hassle her boss was entwined in and what role she expected Mal to play;

“Oh! Ms. Silverman, I’m sorry. I don’t know if this interests me and I’m not very likely to be involved lobbing for big corporations; on the contrary I’d love to sue corporations”, He laughed! Julia was not one to let go easily. She looked into his eyes, and put her hand on his wrist; “Please, call me Julia; I also have to say that you would never regret having this meeting with my boss.” She appeared desperate and Mal liked that; people around him wanting his mercy and grace but more so due to her initial repulsiveness to him. He always said the air of humility he cultivated around him was a tribute to his school; deep inside he was just a megalomaniac, he only knew it too well. Mal agreed to meet with her boss on the Saturday after. She thanked Mal and assured him he would not regret it.

Mal liked to put a price tag on his time and Paul did a great job at telling people how busy his boss was.
Mal had a busy week; his recent success had caused a lot of influential men on Wall Street to sit up and take notice and he played this waiting game so well; it’s said he once made the Mayor wait on the phone for almost a minute; but that’s how Mal got his daily share of sadistic happiness.
Friday night Julia picked up Mal and Paul and took them to the airport. When Paul told Julia, that his boss would only fly first class, she simply smiled and said “I know”. Mal was puzzled but had a calm appearance on his face till he saw the car pull to a stop next to Gulfstream Private Jet. He couldn’t help but smile. Julia saw that and she knew he was impressed.The 12 hour flight to Abu Dhabi aboard a private jet was exhilarating for Paul Simmons. He had worked for Mal for the last 4 years and knew his boss inside out. He knew of his ill tempered tantrums and steered clear of his ego and at times even helped stoke it gently.
On landing, Mal and Paul were escorted to the Presidential suite in the Palm Jumeirah. Mal slept the jetlag away while Paul chose to go swimming.
The next morning, Mal dressed immaculately in navy was escorted to a conference room. He liked it and told Paul to find the one who designed it; As Paul was writing it down, an Arab Sheikh walked in with Julia. Harvard had not taught Paul how to say hi to Arab Sheikhs! Paul was excited and whispered to Mal’s ears, “His Highness Sheikh Mansoor Al Nahyan, he’s brother of the president of UAE and also owner of Manchester City!” Mal was stunned for a moment; Julia had meant what she had said; now he knew why it was such a big secret!
“Marhaba! I finally get to meet you, Mr.Malik, I trust Julia had taken good care of you!” He winked. The Sheikh was a tall man with a beard and looked alarmingly powerful. He was extremely well mannered. Mal wanted to turn him down just to see what the sheikh would do; but he didn’t dare. Their meeting went well and the Sheikh invited Mal for a detailed discussion in the afternoon.
Mal was about to stand up and take leave when the Sheik summoned his secretary, “Anitha”, the Shiekh called out.
Anitha Basu, clad in a black suit walked into to the room. Paul had never seen Mal this petrified. Mal who stood frozen; time seemed to wrap around him.

Withered Rose II

And she stood there in tears! This was not how she pictured it; she had foreseen a life of togetherness headed towards forever and now two years and a whirlwind of a romance later, it was all over. She sat beside him probably for the last time on the beach. She told him it’s time they moved on but it was she who was hurt most.

It’s one of those things Tariq admired about her. The free spirited and ‘in the moment’ living Anitha Basu; who until a moment ago was his girl friend and wife to be. At 17, it did seem like they had it all planned out. He would go to medical school, become a doctor and then comeback for her; then they would get married et al. In the mean time she would stay and go onto to finish her BA in journalism and also convince her parents that Mohammed Tariq was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Tariq stood there frozen as he recollected the way she smiled with those dimples when he professed how madly he was in love with her. He had even met her parents and found favour with them; had they known his intentions they would have clobbered him though.

Anitha’s parents had moved from Kolkata to Chennai years ago; she had gone to St.Bede’s Higher secondary from Standard VII onward. It was then that she met Tariq, the fat rich kid from Chennai. He always reminded her of ‘rasagulla’, her favourite Bengali sweet; he was like plum pudding with thick rimmed glasses. Tariq was an intelligent kid and was always a topper in class; the roundness of his face was testimony to the successful leather business his father and elder brother ran. They had known each other since the year she joined but it was in XI that she began seeing changes in Tariq. How he laughed at her dumb jokes and looked away each time she looked at him. She liked him alright; he was everything she was not. Anitha was a strong girl; her love made her blind. She truly loved Tariq; but in time she grew up and he did not. After all how many ‘high school’ sweet hearts stay together.

She went on to attend the Queen Mary’s college in Chennai. And she had begun to enjoy the life there. She missed Tariq very much; he had gone to a Medical School in Canada. Though he called often too, she rarely answered his calls. She wanted to begin anew. And then one day in college he came, initially he was some random senior at her college...

Indranil Malik had the most awkward hello she had heard. He fumbled many time over, she found it funny. And when she called him, Sir; like all seniors were addressed he blushed! She found him to be amusing. It was later that she heard of Indran and how he was the ‘goody-goody’ icon of the college. He was just a year senior to her. The awkward hello soon turned in a coffee and then one day he blurted it out...

Withered Rose

"Young Indian takes Paroxy Pharma to the cleaners", screamed the New York times; it also went ahead to describe the career contour of Indranil Malik, the only son of Indian Business tycoon, Soumitra Malik.

Mal, as his American admirers called him had just effected the largest ever payout from a Corporate giant in the history of corporate America. He bled them of 1.2 bn USD as compensation to his grieving clients.

The sun flirted with the Manhattan Skyline and its rays had just hit the square handsome face of Mal. The sheet on the bed lay so perfectly still; and he sat there lost in thought; of a life time spent in pursuit ... He sought solace in those moments alone and away from the limelight. He always said NY had made him a loner, though he secretly admired the status of celebrity he was bestowed. The gossip magazines loved him; for he was definitely unlike any other man; for none was as loved but perplexing as he was. He was the man every woman wanted to take home; Standing an inch lesser than 6 feet, he commanded an army of people at his suede office on Wall Street.

Mal stepped out of the shower and drops of water trickled off his sculpted chest onto the marble covered floor; looking into the life size mirror, his mind seemed to ask; “Mirror mirror on the wall, who might be the most handsome of all?” The grin on his face was proof of the work of Alisha Keys, the fitness trainer he flew in every week from Boston. Mal was also feared on Wall Street. His tongue was most sought after by several law firms across NY to speak for them in the court of law.

Raghava KK

As he stepped out from the shower into a closet that would cost any New Yorker an annual pay check; he looked at a masterpiece from KK Raghava, his favourite Indian Artist. He admired the woman painted whose face could not but be seen. It was a girl who looked away... Mal had commissioned for it for an exorbitant amount then; but then what was a man to do with so much money anyway, he had retorted. Money was never his first love. He was lost in the picture when his mind raced back to August 23, 2006...

The college election campaign was at the height of insanity. Indran was sought after by his comrades. The boy who used the pen to swiftly turn the tide in favour of his party, the SFI; his was a magnetic personality. His teachers spoke very kindly of him as the good natured son of the Malik.

And it was then that he met her... In his words: “She descended down the stairs into my heart! “

The owner of those big black eyes was Anita Basu. And that was it. He had no idea who she was but it was like she slammed open the door of his heart and camped in there. It took him a week to tell her hello; to which she smiled and walked. He loved the feeling, that helplessness he felt drove him mad!

Buzz! His blackberry was going haywire; as he fixed his grey pinstripe Astor & Black suit. Mal looked around and picked up the phone. His press secretary Paul Simmons, was on the line.

“Mal, She’s here...”

TBC

Neil Vincent

Withered Rose

Ripples of a Stirred mind

Ripples of a Stirred mind

Ripples of a stirred mind

Life at times gifts you beautiful surprises at the most opportune moments. The last week has been a through intellectual slug fest for me. My thoughts were running wildly from trans-humanism to new management principles, and then I had this profound conversation with a friend from work which was a culmination of the entire process. It was the moment frozen time and also frozen due to the ice cubes that were falling into the Old monk. That moment stood alone, that moment when the universe was talking to me. Life is in the moments!

I want to live a full life; a life of fullness! The dream we all share: the perfect job, the perfect spouse; the perfect house; the perfect family... I sought perfection in mental & material comfort .. That is until I realized a life without challenges is the curse you wouldn’t want to live. Smooth seas never make good sailors. Life is in the imperfections; our mistakes define us. Though the idea of comfort is soothing, a life without challenges is death to destiny. Your life is a measure of experiences you have lived through. When you are comfortable you don’t actually challenge yourself and you don’t grow. Simple example: Muscles grow when you work them out; they tear and grow back stronger! Same thing here; dare to challenge yourself for a fulfilling life!

David would not have been of this value where he a sold block of marble free of any blemish. The marble would have been a great potential piece of art, but those blows that went into that marble created this invaluable piece of art.

David (Michelangelo)

Potential is not always of value. It’s what happens with potential that matters in time. We all are potent beings. So potent that we are called onto to the many wonderful things life has to offer us. In time we have become slave of riches and this rat race that we run. Can you dare to stop the rat race you are living? Life is about moments; have a different day everyday and enrich your life. Imagine everyday a new day. You are called to live not survive! :)

Every day is magic; you cannot recreate it but you can relive the moment. Rock stars relive the moments when they perform and that’s when they get applauded and fans go crazy when they see creation again but when rock stars try and recreate the moment, they get brickbats! You cannot recreate you can only relive and that when the rock star relives the moment, the crowd sees creation; it magic to everyone else.

Whatever makes you happy is what you were called to do! Whatever that be do it! If you like it do it again and stop the day you don’t like it! And that's living! Act on your ideas or give them away, lest you help someone else! You will never lose anything with an open heart! Never give people things! When you give you are losing out. SHARE and embrace the gift.

Financial independence is not the end of all your problems! Kolkata is not THE economic power house but it’s the place of India's cultural renaissance! From Tagore to Anurag Khashap our culture is heavily indebted to Kolkata and its creative people. The vibrancy of Kolkata can be attributed to its mentally stimulating environment. Economic independence is not linked to their egos. Our ego, the layered wall that protects us, but this protection is also what kills you. You will never grow unless you fight! So challenge yourself and create those moments where you could be humiliated but you dare to go on and take the risk. The idea of staying silent is proposed by your ego since it’s safer but if you can suppress your ego and courage to cause a ripple then you will be on the fast forward to your destiny.

Idea becomes you

An idea is how it starts and then you act on it; if you get happiness from it then you do it again and again; slowly, it evolves into a habit and then it defines you! It becomes you!

You were born into a society’s perception of reality; not reality in itself! The older we grow the stronger our sense of perceptions and our belief in them. And when we break away from those perceptions we become free. Most of the time I was living under the boundaries which society has set for me. These boundaries are protected by the word, ‘impossible’. Impossible is a big word proposed by small men who chose to live in the comfort of the world given to them than dare to challenge possibilities. Any act, by virtue of it sounding outrageous or has never been attempted before does not mean it’s impossible; It means it’s new! And new is where the life is!

Many roles; One man

How many people can you be? How many lives can you live? With as many lives you intersect you write your own story. Destiny is written every minute; every moment is the paper that destiny's ink fall on! You are Destiny's child. And you actions determine how much you reach. Destiny is now! Live in the moment! God is in the moment. Live now!

Who is God? What is God? God is you; see God is each other! Every being is his creation and I find beauty in everything and that is why I love you and that is why I find you beautiful. God is not in the idol but higher above, inside you. God is you. I see the perfection that you are and ‘am lost for words. My love may be my weakness but it’s also the source if my greatest strength, Faith! I don’t need confidence, I just need faith and that faith will spur you to more.

I find beauty in the perfection of my God's creations! How beautiful this planet is? How my senses have learnt to interact with you...Gratefulness engulfs my soul and my thoughts are filled with glee as I find calm in the perfection of nature.

How are you? How many times have you asked the question out of curiosity than concern? I had never cared for the responses! It was a question of curiosity that concern; that has changed now! I'm learning to care for people and their needs. I have understood that business is also about people and that I will not find happiness tomorrow with expensive toys but my happiness is now, it is in now; in this moment. Grateful to my parents whose love I cherish, to my friends, to God.

Every thought I act on, I’m living my beliefs; The Neil my father sees in me is not the Neil my wife sees or the Neil my friends see; the many people that I call me; I become one. I believe in perfect confusion you will find perfect focus just like in the absence of order nothing can exist but without chaos nothing can evolve. It’s a paradox just like life is!

We live in the best time in history. In no other time throughout history has so much been possibly with so little. Every day is a gift a beautiful priceless gift that no amount of money can buy! It’s a moment to cherish and it adds to the definition of the person that is you. So many times in life I found that there is no meaning to the happenings my life until I realized, there was no meaning to be found. I just had to live the creation of that moment and the universe in all its intelligence would provide me the answers. The time is now. Seize the moment. Think of what you want to do with life and keep pushing the limits a little each day! :) Believe!

When I see God in others, I cannot but help love them and see their perfection in the beauty of the Master's work. It’s in the imperfections that God lies. And he is perfection at its brim.Power to you

Yours is the earth & everything in it! You are the owner of limitless energy that is this universe; you are the result of 3.7 Billion years of evolution, live the truth!

Now my thoughts are directed toward my destiny and every moment I live to be the man I want to be. A little each day and that is the journey through the ripples...

Sincere thanks to Vinay Sharma

Neil Vincent