POST RETIREMENT MUSINGS

It is just over three months since I retired. Before retirement I had made plans as to what my routine would be after retirement. No, it has nothing to do with taking up another job. I had decided that at least for some time I would not take up a job part time or full time. So I had planned a routine which included walking and exercise in the morning, and other activities such as reading the dailies, dropping wife to her office, stock trading, Sudoku, listening to music, reading, watering and tending to my garden, networking in the cyberspace, and watching TV (only musical reality shows and comedy for me, no sops). That is a huge list and difficult to do all that in a day.

Frankly I have never been able to stick to this routine even for a day. The first month (March) there was some maintenance work at home and I was busy supervising that and was seldom able to stick to the above schedule. I was also away on LFC for about 10 days. In April I was away in Bangalore to be with my daughter who gave birth to my second grand child, a baby girl. Then we came back to Trivandrum along with my daughter and the two grand children. Since everyone was busy with the new baby my grandson (IN PICTURE) who is just going to be four in July was put under my care. Being a hyperactive kid, I would be fully exhausted by the end of the day playing with him. But it was lot of fun playacting for the kid. Sometimes I am a cop, sometimes a lion, elephant, mouse and anything that catches the kid’s fancy. God, the things grand parents have to do. At times they drive you nuts, make you angry but you enjoy most of the time. The next day you want to be with them again.

I am now an expert in holding a baby (SEE PICTURE) and I spent a lot of time with my granddaughter too. I even put her to sleep once or twice singing lullabies. New born babies hardly communicate except crying for their periodical shot of milk. But after a month they begin to communicate with their eyes, their limbs and whatever sounds they can make. It is fascinating to watch them and try to figure out what they are trying to convey. But just when I was beginning to enjoy life with my grand children, it was time for them to go back to Bangalore. I miss them a lot now. But the good thing is I now have time to do many of the things in the above list though not all in a day.

Now I realise that it is best to go by instincts and do what you feel like doing at any point of time. This policy has been working fine for me for the last few days. So I would be watching a movie sometime, singing Karoake, dabbling with the keyboard, doing Sudoku and anything that catches my fancy. Incidentally I have started taking piano lessons, being interested in music right from my childhood, but never getting the time to seriously learn music.

I watched some fantastic movies these last few days. Here are some of them I liked.
PATCH ADAMS (1998) : About a Maverick doctor directed by Tom Shadyac and the lead role played by Robin Williams.
DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) : About an English professor who encourages students to be non conformist . Won an Oscar and three other nominations including Robin Williams for best actor. Incidentally Fazil’s film “Life is beautiful” might have borrowed some ideas from this movie such as the role of Mohanlal who is also a teacher in the movie who encourages the students to think differently.
PHILADELPHIA (1993): About a homosexual AIDS patient brilliantly portrayed by Tom Hanks, who gets wrongfully dismissed and gets a homophobic lawyer (Denzel Washington) to fight his case. Tom Hanks won OSCAR for best actor and Bruce Springstein for best song.

Watch this space for more such reviews. Till the next blog which will not be long adios amigos.

THE CASE OF THE MISSING VOUCHER AT SBI TRIVANDRUM

It was the time that I just passed out of Sainik school having cleared my ISC examination with a first Division (Just about managed) and was trying to decide on a career course. The options normally discussed by Sainiks (as students from Sainik school were generally referred to) were IIT, Merchant Navy, Marine engineering, and Medicine, not necessarily in that order. Well, I chose IIT (aimed rather high) with very little hope of making it. Let me also clarify here that every student from Sainik school need not necessarily join the armed forces. Only those who get selected for admission to the National Defence Academy join the armed forces.

I got the address from the newspaper ad for getting the prospectus for IIT (No internet those days). I was to get a demand draft for Rs.100/- drawn on SBI, IIT Madras and send it to the given address. My father gave me the money and sent me to SBI, Tvm to get the draft. Till then I had never entered a Bank branch and had absolutely no idea what happened in there excepting having a rough idea that Banks accept deposits and grant loans. I also knew that a draft constituted some kind of money transfer but didn’t know what it looked like. My father knowing that I would not be able to manage on my own asked me to meet one Mr.Kesavan Nair, who was our neighbour and was an employee of SBI. My father had already put in a word to him. Since I was in boarding school I did not have the opportunity to know this Kesavan Nair well. I could only identify the person and that was easy because he had a huge moustache almost resembling that of “Veerappan”. If father hadn’t told me he was working with SBI, I would have assumed that he was a policeman. From here on I shall refer to this person as “Veerappan”.

I went to SBI, Tvm (It is the same building which houses the branch now) and looked around for “Veerappan”. I didn’t have to look for long as “Veerappan” was manning one of the counters facing the customer enclosure. I went to him and introduced myself.

“Paisa Adacho?” (Have you remitted the money?), He asked in a gruff voice, which very much matched his “Veerappan” Moustache.

“Illa”. (No), I replied meekly.

Hmmmmm……grunted “Veerappan” and pulled out a red colored long printed form (I didn’t know what it was then, but now I know that it was the DD application form.) gave it to me, and began to attend to the next customer.

I really did not know what I was supposed to do with the long red chalan form. Not wanting to show my ignorance to “Veerappan” I took the form and sat down in one of the sofas meant for the customers. I must add that customer service was of least priority to Bankers in those days and the facilities provided to customers were very poor. The sofas were dirty and uncushioned. Airconditioning was never heard of.

I read through the DD application from left to right and from front to back and came to the conclusion that it was something that I had to fill up. It was then that I realized that I did not carry a pen. There was a long queue for the only pen kept for customers, which was tied to the writing table with a long string so that no one could pinch it. The only other option of approaching “Veerappan” for a pen made me shudder. However I gathered all my courage and approached him.

“ Oru pena tharamo?” (Can you give me a pen?), I asked with a lump in my throat.

“Penayonnum edukkatheyano bankil vannathu?” (You came to the Bank without taking a pen?) asked “Veerappan”, as though I had violated some IPC code in not carrying a pen to the Bank.

All I could do was show my teeth and smile sheepishly.

“Veerappan” fished out a pen from his drawer and gave it to me with another grunt.

I sat down again on the dirty sofa and filled up the form taking care to see that the details were as per the requirements given in the ad, a copy of which I had carried with me.

I went back to Veerappan with a facial expression, which clearly conveyed to him the words, “What next?”

“Aah counteril poyi paisa adakkanam” (Go and remit the cash at that counter), “Veerappan” said with a body language that indicated that he was losing his patience with me.

I went to the cash counter and joined the queue for receipts. My turn came in about 10 minutes. The cashier took the chalan and the money from me, counted the ten 10 rupee notes, stamped the chalan and gave the stub to me after initialing it.

I went back to “Veerappan” with the same expression of “what next?”

“Veerappan”, who was by now an expert in interpreting my facial expressions said, “Korachu neramavum” (It will take sometime). I went back to the dirty sofa and waited for about half an hour during which time I got a feel of what transpired inside a Bank branch. I could see that “Veerappan” was continuously busy attending to customers. No wonder he was so irritable. It was so unlike my father’s Govt. office where people sat behind huge piles of Govt files, some sleeping, some reading magazines and very few people actually working.

About half an hour later (total time since I came to the Bank must have been more than an hour; so much for customer service despite having somebody to help)I saw “Veerappan” looking around. I stood up so that he could take notice in case he was looking for me. He saw me and waved his hand asking me to go to him. As I reached the counter he pushed a piece of paper in front of me. It didn’t take me long to realize that it was the same chalan which I had filled up and handed over to the cashier along with the money. Only, now it carried a seal and some initials. “Veerappan” sat down and began to attend to another customer.

“Oh! So this is what they call a demand draft”, I thought examining the paper in detail. The “cash received” seal indicated that the money has been received by SBI who will then be passing on the same to IIT. My brain was working overtime trying to figure out the mechanism. I deposited the chalan safely in my pocket and walked out of the building. Only when I was half way I realized that I had neither thanked “Veerappan” for his help nor bid good bye to him. But the images of “Veerappan”’s angry face and his tough stance with me made me decide that it was as well that I didn’t meet him before leaving because he didn’t deserve such a refined response.

I came home and got busy filling up the application form for IIT. My father who came home for lunch from office asked me whether I had got the draft from the Bank and whether Kesavan Nair helped, to which I answered in the affirmative.

Later that evening I was sitting on the Verandah reading something and I was surprised to see “Veerappan” coming into the house. When he saw me he veered towards me and increased his pace. He looked a bit agitated and I was sure that it was for my not telling him before leaving the Bank.

“Iyyalentha draft medikkathe bankinnu poyathu?” (Why did you leave the Bank without collecting the draft?) He asked, with his hands on his hips, as though he was going to beat me up.

“Njan draft medichallo. Ningallalle draft enikku thannathu?” (I had collected the draft. You only gave it to me.) I said, fear very much evident in my voice.

“Njan draft eppo thannu? Itha draft ente kayyilundu. Njan Iyyade kayyil thannathu challananu. Draft receive cheythunnu paranju sign cheyyan” (When did I give you the draft? What I gave you is the challan for your signature acknowledging receipt of the draft.) “Veerappan” said, clearing the air.

Hearing the commotion my father who had already returned from office came out and on seeing Veerappan said, “Ah! Kesavan nairo? Va akathu kayari irrikku” (Ah! Kesavan Nair! Please come in.)

“Sarondayiruuno? Sarinte mon karanam innu njangade day book tally akan koreh padu pettu. Draft vangan vannittu draftinte chalanum kondu allu sthalam vittu. Njanum ikkaryam angu marannu. Vaikunneram day book tally akunnilla. Oru 100 roopede cash voucher missing. Piinne nokkumpazhannu 100 roopede draft ente counteril kidakkunna kandathu. Appo enikkorma vannu. Idhehathinnu njan voucher “draft received” ennu paranju sign cheyyan koduthittu pinne iyyale kandilla ennu. Iyyalu draftannennu vicharichu challanum eduthingu ponnu.” (You were here sir? Because of your son we had a tough time tallying the daybook today. He came to get a draft but left with the draft chalan. I had also forgotten about it. In the evening the daybook did not tally because one cash voucher for Rs. 100 was missing. Then I noticed this draft lying at my counter and remembered that I had given the voucher to him for his signature for having received the draft and after that I had not seen him. Apparently he came home with the chalan thinking that it is the draft.) “Veerappan” concluded with a mocking expression on his face and with the satisfaction of having solved the mystery of the missing voucher. (Elementary Mr. Watson, the boy ran away with the voucher instead of the draft.)

“Who did I see this morning when I woke up?, I wish I was never born, I wish I was away in Antarctica” These were some of the thoughts that passed through my mind at that point of time. I knew I was minced meat. I knew my father’s outburst would start any minute then. It didn’t take long.

“ Idiot. Oru bank draft enthannennu polum ariyatha nee enganayada IIT ezhuthan ponne? Blah..blah.. (Idiot! You don’t even know what a Bank draft looks like and you are going to write IIT?) It went on for about five minutes after which my father apologized to “Veerappan” and invited him to come in for a cup of tea. “Veerappan” politely excused himself saying he was too tired and would like to go home. He left after handing over the draft to my father and collecting the missing voucher from me after my due signature.

PS: Years later after I passed out from IIT, GOD appeared in my dreams one day. He said, “ You shall pay for your mistakes.”

“What mistakes my Lord?” I asked.

You did not know what a Bank draft looked like though you had passed ISC in first Division and you were appearing for the IIT entrance test. You made “Veerappan” spend late hours in the Bank tallying the daybook.

“How shall I pay for my mistakes my Lord?” I asked.

“Though you are a B.Tech from IIT, it is evident that you know nothing about Banking. You shall therefore pursue a career as a Banker and not as an engineer.” GOD said and disappeared.

A lot of people have asked me why I joined the Bank after getting a B.Tech from IIT. I have not told the truth to anyone. Well, now you know the truth.

PATRIOTIC DREAMS IN INNSBRUCK

It was way back in September 95 when I was the Chief Manager (C&I) of Mumbai branch of State Bank of Travancore, that I got this opportunity to go abroad. I was selected to attend the Cambridge Seminar on Risk Management organized by the Chartered Institute of Bankers, London. Six Bank executives were selected by the Indian institute of Bankers to attend the same, after being nominated by their respective Banks.

It was a one week seminar held at the Christ College, London where the famous poet Milton is said to have had his education. The mulberry tree under which he is said to have sat and wrote his poems is still there in the beautiful Garden in the college campus.

After the one week seminar I went for a 11 day European tour touching about 8 countries and saw many places of interest in these countries. It was a conducted tour by “COSMOS”, one of the famous such tour operators in London. The following is an extract from my tour diary.

We started the tour from London one morning and reached Dover. After crossing the English Channel from Dover to Calais, we boarded an extremely comfortable bus (by Indian standards) in which we were to travel the next 11 days. The bus took us through the French countryside, passed through Holland and reached Brussels by evening. We did some sight seeing in Brussels and stayed overnight there. Early next morning we started off and after a brief stopover in the tiny city state of Luxemburg, we reached the “Black Forest” in Germany, by evening. I couldn,t really see any difference between the Black Forest and our Forests in Thekkady except for the difference in Flora and Fauna. But these Europeans, they really know how to sell their tourist spots.

Before sunset we continued our journey, passing through the Alps into Austria. The pristine countryside of Austria was a treat to watch. The Autobahn (European expressway) passes through a number of road tunnels some of which are the best and longest road tunnels in the world (some as long as 24 kms). The tunnels are well lit and cuts through the mountains like a knife which doesn’t make you feel that you are driving through a mountain (A far cry from the hairpin curves leading up to some of the Indian hill stations). On the Swiss side it is said that they have built self contained shelters inside these tunnels, which could sustain thousands of people for nearly a month in the unlikely event of a nuclear war. One could say that the Swiss are the only people fully prepared to survive a nuclear war if it happens, God forbid.

Just after sunset we reached Innsbruck, the second largest city in Austria which has a very fine Ski slope where the 92 winter Olympics was held. We spent three nights and two days in Innsbruck. The second day evening, there was an optional item (An item not included in the general itinerary of the tour and has to be paid for separately) called “A Tyrolean evening”. Among the five Indians in the tour I was the only one to opt for this event which I thought would enlighten me on the local culture.

Tyrol happens to be an area in Austria rich in tradition, and having a distinct culture of its own. In India we can compare this to regions like Vidharba, Telengana, Travancore etc. The evening consisted of folk dances and music of the Tyrolean region whose economy was mostly agrarian, mainly consisting of dairy faming.

It was really fascinating to see the Tyrolean men and women foot stomping in perfect rhythm to music created by absolutely local instruments, consisting mainly of cowbells. The cowbell played an important role in the lives of the Tyroleans, being a symbol of the main economic activity viz. dairy farming, which is also the main economic activity in Switzerland. There was one musical item using only cowbells of different sizes which reminded me of the “Jaltarang” back home.

Like I mentioned earlier the Europeans really know how to sell tourism. At the end of the show, the group played the national anthems of all the countries represented in the gathering which consisted of at least 10 different tour parties. They went in alphabetical order starting with Australia. There were quite a few Australians who sang along “Advance Australia Fair” holding their wine glasses above their heads.

As each anthem was played the tourists from that country stood up and sang along. I eagerly waited for the Indian national anthem. They played the anthem of even a small country like Fiji. Then came Holland. I braced myself for the next announcement which in all probability I thought should be India. Then the lady compere announced, “I understand there is one person from India in the COSMOS group … (I almost began to stand up, a bit nervous knowing that I was the only Indian in the hall of around 200 people, (so much for the interest of Indian tourists in other cultures)) …but I am sorry we are not familiar with the Indian National Anthem, so we go on to the next country”. I almost dropped dead into my chair. What a let down and what a shame for the nation, that when they know the national anthem of a small country like Fiji they do not know the national Anthem of the biggest democracy in the world. The indignation weighed on my mind for quite a while and I was totally unaware of the happenings around me for sometime, till I realized that I was back at the hotel.

I went to the room with a heavy heart. Some of my tour mates sympathized with me and said some things to pep me up. But I was in no mood for any conversation. That night I could not sleep for quite sometime. It must have been at least midnight when I finally managed to sleep. It was a disturbed sleep.

And there I was, back in the hall and the national anthems were being played one by one. It came to India’s turn. The lady announced, “ I believe there is an Indian National................but we do not know the Indian National anthem.” Before she could finish her sentence I was up on my chair and I shouted, “Doesn’t matter; I will sing it for you” and I started singing aloud, “Jana Gana…….
Jaya Jaya Jaya Jayaheh”, I concluded.

There was pin drop silence in the hall. Then suddenly somebody somewhere started to clap. It caught on and soon everyone was standing up and clapping, giving me a standing ovation. It was then that I realized that I was standing on my chair. I tried to get down and lowered my legs but there was no floor, I lost my balance and started falling. I could hear the crowd still clapping. But I was falling, falling ..falling into a bottomless pit. The sound of the clapping became less and less audible. Finally I touched bottom with a heavy thud.

I woke up to find that I was lying on the floor of the hotel room.

THE PRICE I PAID FOR THE SAURASHTRA BHAVAN PURI

The mention of Saurashtra Bhavan brings to my mind memories of an incident that happened during my IIT days. I had come home in connection with the demise of my father in 1972. After all the ceremonies were over I was to go back to Madras (for me it is still Madras and not Chennai) by the evening express train, which used to take 24 hrs. to Madras and reach the next day evening. I had got the booking for the train with great difficulty. The train was at 5.30 p.m. As it was quite normal in those days, to walk the distance of just 2 kms from my house in Palkulangara to the Central station, Thampanoor, I started from home by about 4.15 p.m with my younger brother and a cousin. I had only an airbag to carry. When we reached overbridge, it was only 4.30 p.m and there was still one hour left for the train to start. Just when we were wondering how to kill one hour I got this sudden urge to go to Saurashtra Bhavan and have puri. The other two agreed that nothing could be better to spend the time at hand. So we walked down to Saurashtra Bhavan and had few rounds of puri. One round consists of 4 puris and the accompaniments. Though Bala mentioned Rs.5 as the cost of one round I remember the time when it was less than a rupee per round.

It was 5.00 p.m when we got out of Saurashtra bhavan. We leisurely walked towards the station, crossing the foot overbridge in front of Sakthi theatre (now Kripa). When we were on the bridge we could see that a train was already on the main platform. Some green flags were being waved indicating that the train is about to start.

“Now this train has to move out and only then your train will come into the platform”, my brother observed.

(In those days there were only two platforms at Tvm central station and invariably all trains leaving Tvm started from platform No.1.)

So we continued to saunter towards the station chatting about this and that. We entered the station at about 5.15 p.m and could see that the train we had earlier seen lying on the first platform, was just chugging out. Almost concluding that the Madras express is going to be delayed, we enquired with a TTR at the entrance as to when the train is likely to start.

“ You mean the Tvm-Madras express?” Asked the TTR with a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes”, I said and added, “I am booked by that train”
“You see that train going?” Asked the TTR pointing at the train, which just left the platform.

All of us turned and could see the last vehicle of the leaving train, with the big letters LV and the red crossed lines in the distance slowly disappearing from our view as the train gained speed.

When we turned back to face the TTR, he said with a mocking smile on his face, “ That is the Madras express”

“But it was supposed to start only at 5.30 p.m”, I protested.

“No, from last Monday the timing has been changed to 5.00 p.m, didn’t you know?

“No.” I said in a choked voice.

Missing a train in those days was something quite serious and I knew I just couldn’t go back home and the thought of facing my elder brother who was in charge after my father’s demise made me shudder. No, there has to be some other way, I thought. My brother and cousin who knew the implications of my predicament were speechless. I went to the same TTR and sought his advice for a way out. He suggested that I cancel my ticket immediately in which case I would lose only 40% and book a ticket by the night passenger train to Madras which starts at 8.40 p.m and takes 36 hours to reach. I jumped at the solution and immediately went to the counter to cancel my ticket.

I could reach Madras only the third day morning. But the fact that I didn’t have to go back home and face my brother made me happy.

And that is how I had to pay a heavy price for my love for the Saurashtra Bhavan Puri.

First blog

I have started a blog called gopes' musings. I am just posting as a test.