A proud New Yorker

Resilient and strong, with a will of steel and a heart of gold, these are the people around me. My New York.

NYC, today, is the epicenter of the Coronavirus epidemic. And what amazing things are happening here! We have come together as a community. At 7pm every day, everyone leans out of their windows and terraces to come together and cheer for those on the front line. We clap, bang drums, shake a leg, ring bells, hoot at the top of our voices, wave at our neighbors and it is one big celebration of the strength of the community we live in.

Nobody needs to be forced or reminded. Each one knows their responsibility to distance, stay indoors and protect ourselves and those around us. Within a matter of days the world changed around us and people who could never imagine staying indoors one whole day have now been home for seven weeks and going strong.

Are we alone? We are together more than we were before! Parent groups and school groups are bringing people together. Children virtually share their creations, proudly showing off recycled materials converted into robots and art. Friends and colleagues check in on each other and everywhere the message is "Take care, stay safe."

As a part of one of the most brilliant investment banks in history, Sep 15, 2008 was one historic experience for me, having been through it first hand at the Seventh Avenue headquarters. That experience shook the very core of the financial markets, but largely left day to day life unchanged.

Since then, these last few weeks have been the most profound for me in New York City. Being in the thick of it, it has been incredible to look at the scale at which the Big Apple is handling this epidemic.

Tall orders on sanitizing the entire subway system every 72 hours to providing three free meals a day to all New Yorkers. Free hotel rooms at Four Seasons for medical professionals and Michelin star restaurant suppliers selling food to locals at wholesale prices. The mighty USNS Comfort sailing past our home docking in the Hudson to help the city expand hospital bed facilities. Tesla setting up in Central Park building ventilators out of spare car parts. And most recently the Marines and Air Force doing an air show to honor medical professionals and those on the Frontline. Right here before our eyes. This has been quite something to witness.

May God keep us and our loved ones safe so in the years to come we may share stories of this unprecedented time and the way it brought people together.

Effervescence Unstoppable

As I walk along Broadway, the streets of Downtown Manhattan, I breathe in the culture and history of this part of Manhattan. The cobbled roads, carvings on the old buildings, speak of its magnificent past. Bronze signs scattered around the little nooks and curving allies, now somewhat obscure, point to significant milestones in time. This is the original City of New York. This island was bought by the Dutch from the Red Indians sometime in the 1600s, laying the foundation of what is now Manhattan, arguably the center of the world when it comes to finance, fashion, music, and much more. Who would have thought at that time that this small island would become what it is today. The City of New York started in what is now downtown, and went only up to maybe Canal Street. Everything north of that was an undeveloped marshy land. Then later was created Central Park and the beautiful buildings surrounding it. The Dakota is a fine example of one of these buildings. It was called the Dakota because it was so far from the heart of downtown that people used to jokingly banter why anyone would go up there – it is as if one was going up to North Dakota! This building housed various celebrities from time to time, most memorably the Rolling stones, whose lead singer is now buried at Strawberry fields across the street in the park.

Coming back to Downtown, this area has a story that goes back years and years. The streets all have names; it just feels more real, more organic, than the rest of Manhattan. I love walking by the water, the Esplanade, as the cool breeze brushes my face, I look beyond to the Statue of Liberty, her robes flowing as she takes a step forward, as if she is enjoying the wind as it blows over her flame. The greenery in Battery Park City is a treat to the eye, it is very residential here and I totally love living here, as I watch families with children playing everywhere. It is such a pleasure to explore this neighbourhood. Walking to the gym one day, I happened to pass by this quaint little area which took me all the way to Europe. There were wooden benches laid out on the cobbled road. An Irish pub, a Creperie, a bunch of lovely restaurants cradled the little area, which was buzzing with charming couples and families seated around, some with a big bowl of punch, or was it Pimms ;), some with yummy looking finger food, everyone having a great time. It was towards the evening, and as it got dark and the warm fuzzy lights came out, this place felt like pure bliss.

The center of the whole area is the Trinity Church, which dates back to before the time of Independence, when America was still under the British colonial rule. The church was then under the Queen of England. It has witnessed a tumultuous past, and here rest some of the most notable people in American history. Imagine walking past the church, which is just next door to me, and as I happen to glance over my shoulder, I see a stone engraving saying “Alexander Hamilton” going back to the 1800s. I am speechless. One of the founding fathers of the Constitution, he was a great personality. The doors of the church open down into Wall Street. It feels like the financial powerhouse of the House of Morgan and the NY Stock Exchange are paying tribute, showing respect to the spiritual powerhouse, as if surrendering to the ultimate faith. As with any instrument of power, there is a fine line between the good and the excessive. A couple blocks away is the handsome Bull, always surrounded by excited tourists waiting to take a picture with the cute symbol of the Financial District. Such surprises and more are everywhere, just waiting to be discovered. One day I was walking by South Street Seaport, and I came across a beautiful engraved building. I stopped to take a look and by the side of it I see a metal seal saying – “Here was laid the foundation of the first Electric network in New York City, conceptualized and developed by Thomas Edison”. WOW. Isn’t that how you feel? I did!

I admire the enthusiasm of the people here. This area was shattered by the attacks of ruthless fundamentalism. Ten years later, this place is alive again, the people are back, the heart beats one more time in this place. The Tribeca film festival, the numerous concerts, the summer fun, there is positivity and life here all over again. Full of infectious energy and a zest for life, it is as if the whole area is singing - “I get knocked down, but I get up again, you’re never gonna keep me down!”. A teaching for all of us, to keep our head held high and spirit alive, in the face of adversity.

I hope I keep writing more. Tulips surrounding the Shake shack at Madison Square Park, the weekend hikes to upstate NY and New England, squash games at the NYHRC which make me fly, a coffee with a little Madeline at the Financier Patisserie, and indulging myself on a hot chocolate brownie sitting by the water at PJ Clarks, there is so much to say about this place . It is summertime, and the daylight smiles down till past 8pm, feels like there is so much more one can do, the cool air sprays me with water from the bubbling fountain on Bowling green, and there is a spring in my step as I walk these streets. I can stand for hours watching the wind blow ripples over the water, the people laughing and having a good time drinking their beer at the pubs next door, the music wafting through, the disciplined runners, moms and dads taking a walk with their children cosy in their strollers, Frisbee, skateboards, kites on the horizon, and the little sailboats bobbing into the sunset over the towering skyline.

“These streets will make you feel brand new, these lights will inspire you, let’s hear it for New York!”

Mumbai Meri Jaan

Magical Bandra, rolling waves at Bandstand, vibrant energy and lights that inspire. The stretch of Skyline, earthy Chowpatty, bustling Marine Drive, and a comforting breeze at Worli. The cobbled roads, with the canopy of Banyan trees speaking of the years gone by. I am mystified by the streets of Colaba, transported back in time by the Gateway, enchanted by the lights of the Queen's necklace, romanced by old British architecture at Fort and Fountain, and quite in love with the City of Dreams.

What does Mumbai mean to you? I see a flash of a city constantly on the move, rushing with contagious energy. The food is a delight - Panipuri, Pav Bhaji and a whole dinner's worth of Bhelpuri for as much as Rs. 8. Some places that are a must visit are Cafe Mondegar, Britannia for 'Berry pulao', Theobroma for amazing brownies and Only Paranthas. Go to the Dome, right on Marine Drive, or to Out of the Blue in Bandra if you want to feel glam, Escobar in Bandra for a good party or Polyester down south to dance the night away. Also try South indian at Banana Leaf close to Juhu and crepes at the Creperie near Carter Road.

On my first day here, I set out on foot to explore a bit of Worli and Prabhadevi. As I walked, I felt myself merging into the hustle-bustle. It seemed as if noone was looking at me or making me feel like a stranger not knowing her way around. Everyone was going their own way, not time for nonsense, not bothered that there was a clueless newcomer among them. People were friendly on the street, to the point, in a very professional sort of way. No inquisitive glances, no uncomfortable stares. In the evening, there were hawkers sprawled beneath the Siddhivinayak temple, selling jasmine flowers. There was the kulfi wala, and no dearth of street side goodies. Walking along the Worli Seaface, I felt at home.

The next day I decided to explore a bit of South Bombay. I was amazed at the ease of being able to move around here, be it the cabs, autos, or the ek chaalis ki last local. I flagged down a cabbie, and the next thing I knew I was speeding away past Haji Ali. As the cool breeze hit my face, I felt thankful just for being there. There is something for everyone here. For the history buff, the British architecture at Fort and Fountain, the cobbled roads. All these have been witness to a tumultous past, to ages of sweat, struggle, and to new beginnings, graciously bidding farewell to those who have come and gone. I curled up with a book at Tea Center, sipping my steaming Kawa Chai, after a long walk admiring the Elphinstone, the Flora fountain and the Bombay university.

There is ofcourse, the not-so-bright side to Amchi Mumbai. The little boy cleaning the local train, the city bursting at its seams with the slums, and yet, home to one and all. The city where billions are lost the way sand castles are washed away at the beach. And yet, forgiving, all including, and accepting everyone.

Mumbai is a treasure of experiences. From the boulders of Bandstand, to the sands of Juhu. From tea for Rs. 5 at the local tea stall to Cappucino at Rs. 50 at CCD, all within walking distance of the other, the city never ceases to amaze with all its diversity. I will remember always the Jazz music, Naturals icecream, Squash games and long walks on Carter road, watching the Sunset, with the soft romantic glow of lights and the soothing sounds of the waves.

PGP2, Semester 6 and the Time of my life.

'I'm leaving on a jetplane. Don't know when I'll be back again.

Oh babe, I hate to go...."

As I sit in my office, my day's work done. The papers checked, assignments reviewed, final grades submitted. I sit back contentedly and reminisce the beautiful days gone by.

The sun is streaming through my office window, the time is 5:30pm, and there is a lovely evening breeze outside. A flowering tree smiles into my view, spreading its branches to hug me and say hello.

30 sessions with the brightest of the bright. Those friendly faces smile back at me, every time I think about them. IIM has given me so much more than just the learning experience - some wonderful friendships, the warmth of being respected and loved. What more can one ask for.

It is a pleasure to teach a bright energetic bunch of youngsters, the sharpest of minds, most eager and full of wit. There is this amazing connect with my students. I share my experiences with them and enjoy the vibrant discussion that follows. I feel proud when my students do well and achieve. A sense of belonging, a desire to help them in their endeavors and an ethereal sort of satisfaction when I see them appreciating a new point of view.

I have started to understand the power and value of the relationship between the teacher and the taught. Education is a gift, and we are fortunate to have had access to the best temples of learning. I now have a chance to give back to my country some of what I have learnt as well. This experience will my most cherished for a long time to come.

"And so I taught them, and I tried to make them happy. I was their playmate, their companion. I shared their life, and I felt that I was the biggest child of the party" - Rabindranath Tagore, on Shantiniketan.

Ticket to Bangalore

When one feels low, one looks for that solace and comfort that can calm the soul. The sound of the waterfall, the shower of rain, the dewdrops on leaves, little things.

Just the thought of the lush green IIMB campus tells me that there is beauty in life. The campus is an oasis, nestled away from the hustle bustle of the city. The quiet atmosphere is soothing as I close my eyes and feel at one with the natural surroundings around me. Bangalore is full of flowering trees - Bouganvillae - all colours - purple, pink, white, orange, red. Tikoma - a blanket of golden yellow flowers, the red Bottlebrush, and a whole lot of varieties that I do not even know the names of. It is as if the whole painters pallette is sprayed atop the trees everywhere - pink, orange, yellow, purple, blue, red, white... you name it.
The food here is light and healthy, the coffee and nariyal paani a must have. As my time here comes to an end, I shall miss this place. Thank you Bangalore, for everything.

The Journey Home

Delhi to Chandigarh on the Shatabdi is always a treat. Since I left for college, and later work, this has been my beat, the last leg of my journey home. Home – where I keep returning, where my heart belongs. No matter how much I travel the world, I will always be that simple kudi from Chandigarh, with my hint of Punjabi accent, colourful Phulkari Dupattas and Churidaars, and my love for Chai and Lassi.

As I pass by fresh green fields, dotted with white, yellow and orange marigolds, a splash of yellow mustard now and then, I drift into my thoughts. Home brings images of the lights at the Gurudwara, the soothing Kirtan, the Chaatwaala anchored right outside where I have been treated to the best Golguppas and Papdi Chaat since I was a kid in school. The bustling market, enthusiastic youngsters circling the Gedi route, disciplined runners off to the Sukhna, Mom and me walking the Leisure Valley, Papa with his foursome of Golfers and my sister and I with a giggling group of university students going to Stara sector for Hot Millions and Tokri Chaat. Evening songs from the temple, the orange Prasad at the Hanuman mandir on Tuesdays, lovely scent of jasmine floating by from the flower wala’s perch, and the tinkling of bells. I also hear the sound of prayers from the nearby Mosque. Yes, that is Chandigarh – every place close by, small and sweet, nestled beneath the Shivaliks, the City Beautiful.

The train chugs along. I have often travelled this route by bus – the GT Road is smooth. Those were fun times, travelling on a rickety Haryana Roadways bus, with my IIT seniors, when we were too broke to afford the train ride. Gossiping, joking the whole way, (Yes! The typical IIT PJs), snacking at some Dhaba on the way, braving the occasional bus break down too, finally reaching Chandigarh at some wee hour in the night, much to the concern of our parents.

But the Shatabdi has never failed me, never disappointed. As I sit contently, gazing out the window, the expanse of greenery takes me to another world. I respect the labor of the farmer who tills these fields, admire the abundance of the earth that feeds us. Cow dung cake thatches nestle comfortably lending a rustic look to the scene. Two little girls in red and white salwaar kameez are running along happily though the fields, effortlessly bouncing over uneven patches. An occasional brick kiln adds a splash of burnt orange. Some of the older stations roll by, still showcasing the storybook look – the old station master and the solitary bench.

Sunset over the horizon, the sky turns  pink and amber, leaving behind the afterglow. The afterglow is the inspiration for the inception of my blog. It is the word for the way the sky looks just after the sunset. Looks as if a fairy sparkled gold dust all over the clouds and the whole earth below basks in the soft light. Night falls and the lights come out. Like glowworms peeping out of the bushes just after a hearty shower of rain.

Another hour or so to go, and I will be home. An excited Tuffy jumping over me, a big hug from Mom and Dad, and everything around me smiling to me as if to say – “Welcome home”.

Love the rain

I fondly remember the monsoon. I remember the drive up from Chandigarh to Baddi (Himachal) in the rains. Last August, I was teaching some students at Baddi, and used to drive up every Tuesday and Thursday. The road is broken all over the place and it is a complete roller coaster ride all through. The entire journey takes a good two hours, when ideally it should take 30 minutes if it were a good road. With the torrential rains we saw last monsoon, the road was almost non existent, and it was more like the car was splashing through pools of water one after the other, and I think it was the pure momentum that let the car move forward. The dilapidated road was eroded more in the process and every time the drive was to start, one had to brace oneself for an eventful journey. The funny thing is that all this is not enough to dampen anyone's spirit! Trucks, buses, cycles, rickshaws galore - everyone is out there on the road, and so what if your four wheel drive ends up almost scraping by on two wheels while tilting to let a truck go through - its all fun anyway!

I for one loved it. The rain battering down on my window. A few times I even gave in to the temptation of rolling the window down, and managed to get myself and the car seat completely drenched in the process! The weather would be amazing - a cool breeze, the cloudy sky, the majestic gray in the distance, telling you that more rain is on the way. The rainbow right after a hearty cloudburst. What I loved the most was the fact that the drive was through lush green rice fields. And the freshness of the green around me would lift my spirit. Every blade of grass seemed to stand up so strong and tall. Happy, just being there, enjoying the shower of water, soaking up the sunshine, and rejoicing in the company of its folks around it. It seemed as if it was smiling back to me, conveying to me that there is life in the smallest of creation. Be at one with nature, it can make even the most difficult of journeys (pun intended) more pleasant.