Sunday, October 27, 2013

Discovering USA - 1st November to 1st December 2010

30 days. 1st November to 1st December. What a trip it has been. It was a rush when I started the trip and it took every ounce of my energy and sought every spare bead of motivation I have ever had in me. It demanded the very best from me at all times and pushed me to my mental, physical and emotional limits. Landed in Cleveland after a gruelling 24 hour journey and without even time to overcome my jetlag, I was all set for my first set of meetings with a Prof. From a college and a presentation to a group of 10-14 years at a local school. Wow! That's a beginning I thought. Next, College of Wooster – A beautiful college set in the small town of Wooster, meetings with professors, classes, networking with the administration, public talks, and dinners and finally ending up with a lunch with the BIG People of Cleveland. Managed to even squeeze in a quick tour of the college, watching a field hockey game, doing a ropes course and even going to the Village of the very weirdly popular Amish. Prof. Moledina deserves a big thank you for getting me to the US and ensuring I managed to start my trip with a Bang! 

A weekend in Milwaukee with lovely friends, which involved just a whole lot of driving to Chicago and everywhere else, getting introduced to WII and Netflix and off I was to Boston. Boston – My favourite city no doubt and Arjun Dugal had set the stage for me. Meetings, lots of them, Talks – quite a few of them, even a session for a class at Harvard and a very successful Dream Evening to moot. Interspersed with a night of clubbing until the wee hours of morning, I knew I was pushing my limits. The large fundraising Gala was an eye-opener with the wealth that existed in the Indian Diaspora and also reflections on the "Dance of the Wealth" – Why the wealthy give only when they spend a lot and a lot more to raise that money. The homeless on the streets surprised me, wanted to talk to each of them and come up with an idea to get them off the streets. The public libraries amused me as they were mostly filled with the homeless escaping the bitter cold outside and getting some warm place to sleep. I wondered if a country like America even deserved the homeless on the streets and wondered how societies across the world continue to be insensitive to the needs of their own communities in their backyards. A panel discussion on Startup Leadership had me standing alone on the ethics of entrepreneurial ventures amidst talks of VC funding, buy-outs, becoming millionaires and finding cofounders through a scientific formula connected to valuations. I sat there, wondering whatever happened to trusting someone to start something new with you, whatever happened to the love for a new idea, for solving a problem, for creating a world-class business, for creating a legacy. Whatever happened to the "Pursuit of Greatness" that prompted great human beings to embark on risky businesses staking their all? 

Spending time with Year Up, Peace First, and Big Brother-Big Sister Program was a validation of the depth of quality and thought that we had in our work with children. 5 years back when I attempted to meet BBBS, we were too small for them and they didn't want to meet us. This time around, they wanted to learn from us and this was validation of the work we have put in to make our programs truly world-class. Year-up was a program that spoke to me from the heart, it had DreamConnect all over it and I believed this is the program that the youth in India strongly needed and needed fast. 

I was truly humbled by the support that Arjun, Neha, Aman, Karina, Aamir, Mike gave – from helping me build connections, helping me meet people and for just looking out for me and ensuring I was well taken care of. Especially Arjun and Neha, who worked all day and spent all evening coming for meetings with me, discussing ideas with me, giving me strategies and also making me smile. I remember Arjun and myself walking out of the Harvard class and while we were both physically very tired, there was a jump in our step, a pride in our gait and as we looked at each other we smiled and acknowledged the journey that we have embarked upon with 10 others and where that journey had taken our dream. We felt proud, happy and content. We graciously accepted each other's acknowledgement. 
I have to mention Raj Melville – The man, the connector – He sent out nearly 20-25 emails introducing me to people all over the US and getting me meetings from anyone to everyone. He reached out and told me, you are doing well, keep doing it and we will stand by you. 

I was still reeling under the after-effects of Boston and DC hit me with a vengeance. The people in DC were all out to prove to me that DC can do better than Boston and they came very very close to beating Boston. A Brown Bag at Global Giving, Global Fund for Children and Ashoka was all that was needed to get me going again. Starting at 6 am, my first day in DC went on till 1 am and that set the trend for the rest of the week. A panel discussion with 2 other Ashoka Fellows for the staff of Ashoka was enough to send me on a nostalgic, emotionally charged, reflective journey of my life as a leader, as an individual and as a social entrepreneur. The panel had a 32-year old me, a 40-year old and a 50-year old and what fascinated me was how our journeys have been so similar and how uncannily we had to meet today, now when we were going through the same reflections and questions with our inner self. 

Another super successful Dream Evening thanks to Raj and Smita Trivedi who went out of their way to make it happen for Dream A Dream in less than a week. It was phenomenal to see how people would turn up at the end of a busy work-day just because they believed, they wanted to help and support. What's more, I also ran into an old-timer from Dream A Dream and suddenly felt very much at home with her support by my side. DC would not have happened without the support of Raj and Smita, my angels and Roshan who so graciously gave me his place to stay and Usha – a very special person who I connected with on Food, Travel and community work. When she was keen to show me the sights of DC, I told her – I want to understand why there is poverty here and what is one doing to change things. She took me to a Central Kitchen where families come to feed the poor and homeless. Good, cooked, healthy food. Families serve the homeless and also sit with them; children included, and eat the same food. While, I was humbled with seeing this sensitivity, I came away very disturbed thinking, If I ever had to beg for good, live on the streets, eat from a central kitchen – would I be able to? Is there dignity in poverty? Do we continue to let poverty exist and thrive so we can feel important and worthy about ourselves? 

DC was also a place for some old connections, meeting an old-time Dream A Dream volunteer, reconnecting with Ashoka and its inspiring staff, meeting an old school-mate whom I had not met for 16 years and reconnecting with old friends from the US. Food was big on the agenda in DC as I tried Ethiopian, experimented with Japanese and Chinese new cuisine, Spanish tapas and Sangria and the super traditional American Chilli Hot Dog and finally finishing off with a traditional all American brunch. Managed to capture an interactive play called "Shear Madness" at the renowned Kennedy Center before I dashed off the San Jose on the West Coast.

San Jose was completely unlike DC or Boston, a small town set amidst mountains in a beautiful valley; it was stunningly beautiful but completely inaccessible without your own transport. Guneet Singh Bedi was my knight in shining armour taking me to all my meetings and being the man-Friday ensuring it was worth my while to have travelled thousands of miles. He went out of his way to again open doors for me with interested companies, individuals, and also a talk at Berkeley. This was interspersed with meeting an old AIESEC friend and her lovely 2-month old bundle of joy, meeting old Dream A Dream volunteers, spending the thanksgiving evening at the only open Indian restaurant and staying up all night for the infamously popular Black Friday sale after Thanksgiving. I had also come to my journey's end and also my strength was giving way. The sense of wanting to be back in India amongst friends, colleagues and family was creeping in, the overbearing realization that the work has just started and I need to very quickly follow-up on all my meetings to ensure we don't lose the momentum and that there was a lot I had to remember about my trip was completely over-whelming me. I forgot to call a few people I was supposed to meet, I forgot a scheduled meeting and I was sleeping less and less. Guneet came to my rescue with some amazing drives in his classic convertible and a day spent amongst wineyards at the very stunning Napa Valley trying out different kinds of wines. It helped me relax my senses and let go for a day. 

It was time to go back. But, not yet. My last leg was supposed to be a winding down 3-days with friends and family at Milwaukee and Chicago. Ended up being super hectic with catching up on work from India and more meetings at Chicago. A visit to Kellog School of Management for a potential partnership and a final push presentation at Asha, Chicago is all that my soul could take and I was done!! Catching with a Dream A Dream first employee - a very dear personal friend and an inspiring colleague; spending time with cousins and their adorable 4 yr old was just what the doctor had ordered to ensure I survive the last 2 days. 
The trip has been that of a breakneck speed juggernaut, of not letting go of opportunities, of reaching out to people, of sharing a dream – a million times over and of going back to believing in what I have always believed in. People across the world are wonderful and want to help; all it takes is to reach out with honesty and with your heart. 

It has been a tough one-month but I feel blessed that even across the seas, there are people who believe in what we do, who believe in us and who really want to reach out in their own ways – small and big. My body feels battered, my mind is numb but my spirit seems rekindled with the "Power of One"! Sometimes, when I have felt empty inside or lonely, I look back at the people who have being with me through this whole month and I don't feel alone again. 

I feel blessed! Thank you all who made this happen.

Honour

Call me an Idealistic fool or a Naïve person but words like Honour and Commitment to one's word are values I grew up with and values that I chose to embrace. As I child, of all the values that were presented to me, a few stuck more than others and Honour was one of them. I remember my Grandmother telling me stories of my Grandfather that for him, Honour and keeping his word were more paramount even at the expense of great personal sacrifice to him. More recently I remember my dad sharing with me stories of his dad and how he honoured every commitment he made. Even in difficult times, he would skip a meal but keep his commitment to a debtor or a poor man he fed or a poor family he supported.

Of all the values that life offered me, I was drawn towards the stories of people who lived their life on the commitments they made, in most cases verbal and that was enough.

As I reconcile to the decision we took yesterday, I do so with a very deep sense of pain and loss that I did not stand by my values and that I let me values down. I kept thinking of an intelligent reason to make the decision work for me. However, the only reason that still remains is that I would like to honour my commitments. I am deeply pained that Honour was  chosen to be important if it was a donor but not important if its a consultant and I wonder if Honour can be discriminated based on who it is for. I wonder how a consultant, also a human being, is not an important enough person to  honour our commitment to but a donor is. I wonder how we chose to differentiate?

With a deep sense of pain, I accept this decision because most important of all I did not chose to stand by my values. For 14 years, the organization and me have not been separate and I realize that they never will be because we have each shaped the other and our values have been deeply intertwined. To be told now that I am naïve to mix my personal values and equations with the organization is being naïve is new, confusing and disrupting to me. In the objective world, it is probably right but in my world, my personal has always been my political.

I accept the decision because I failed to stand for myself. I failed to just say that it has been because of my personal values and my personal approach to building an organization that both me and this organization stand tall today. The world might accuse me of any flaws but can never accuse me of having values different from the organization or vice-versa.

I wonder when I will find the strength to stand for what I believe. I wonder if words/commitments have no meaning in this world anymore. I wonder if values can be distinguished between the rich, so called important donor and a not so important consultant - that one becomes more important in our exercise of honour and the other doesn't (that we can pay off someone's deep sense of commitment to the cause as a not so important effort). I wonder if I will ever find the courage to stand for and break this dual value system in my world or if I will be a perpetual failure.

I don't think I will ever be able to give my word to anyone ever again.

Moved my Poetry to a New Blog

Hi Friends,

I have decided to move my poetry and keep it in a new blog - http://mysoulstirring.blogspot.in/. Do follow me there.

Thank you,
Vishal

Thursday, September 12, 2013

Redemption, Seeking my Forgiveness

I didn't do much when I first heard the brutality
I didn't join the protests
Neither did I sign petitions.
I prayed for strength to help you get through
I watched in disbelief as the politics unfolded
I went into a shell when friends spoke about it.

I shivered and shuddered at the gory details
shared in magazines and newspapers.
I tried to imagine how horrifying it must have been
to go through that night
but it was too painful
just to imagine and I left it there

I felt raw anger at the perpetrators
On many nights, I imagined buying a gun
and shooting them down
just to release my own pain.

I felt guilty
I knew I had failed you
I knew I was as guilty
just as the four who committed the crime
I didn't know how to forgive me
living in my own guilt
day in and day out

Today when my loving girlfriend
drives home late
I am on tenterhooks
till she reaches home safe
I know I have imagined
following her home
just to be sure
she is safe

My world has changed
as your world changed
Yours more brutally
mine more subtly
Change it indeed has.

The verdict was passed yesterday.
They got a punished
Arguably not enough by many
One got a lot less
He happened to be a few months
younger than an adult.
I saw their pictures.
I looked into their eyes
I saw the brutality
I felt a shiver down my spine
as I imagined
how innocent their faces looked
and how brutal their intentions were.

Yet,
I search for the child.
The child that lives
Inside each of them

The child
with a smile to melt a heart
taking their first baby steps
the chuckle
the gibberish as they learnt to speak
the twinkle in their eye
when they discovered the world
the curiosity with which
they embraced the world
the laughter, the chitter-chatter
the hugs and their selfless love.

I saw my 2-year old nephew in them
the confident and wavering first steps
the curiosity to take on life
the fascination with everything new
the obsession with learning, absorbing, soaking in the world.

I wonder when that innocence was taken away
Why that innocence was taken away
Was it the rejection, the neglect, the abuse?
Was it the beatings, the admonitions, the environment?
Where did love replace so much hatred
When did love replace so much hatred
Was there love ever?

I am aching to feel, to understand
their first seed of hatred,
the brutality that took over the sparkle,
the abuse that took over the twinkle,
the beatings that replaced the love.

I hear that child cry
incessantly and infinitely
helpless and hopeless
I see that child die
the day their brutality overtook them
The child cries for help
Is anyone listening?

Words fail me
I attempt to weave their life
meet their innocent child
meet them at that place in their life
where hatred met them
and show them the path of love
I so wish I was there when they made the choice
I so wish I could show them the path of love

I know the child wanted it
the child craved for it
the child needed it
yet we failed.

We failed you
We failed that child living inside each of them
We failed your faith in humanity

I make a promise
Not of justice
but of commitment
to reach children like the four
and fill their life with love
weed out their brutality
Ensure it never makes home again in their innocent heart.

I will
tirelessly
bring love
into the life
of every child
that I possibly can

In that
Nirbhaya
I may find
my forgiveness.

Sunday, August 18, 2013

The many hues of Delhi. 11 Aug - 16 Aug 2013

Travel to any new city comes with its share of experiences, funny incidents and adventures and a visit to Delhi last week was no different.

There was falling ill with the infamous Delhi Belly over the famous roadside Gol Gappas. The adventurous late night trip to Karim's at Nizamuddin to try their signature meat preparations and then having to call a cab because friends were worried that we weren't being cautious enough. The thousands of multi-coloured kites donning the skies on Independence Day while young and old took processions in their neighbourhood shouting the same old slogans of Freedom and Independence.

The conscious decision to not spend Independence Day at Red Fort but to be on the streets to capture the flavour of the locals. The blaring bollywood music with item numbers at Khan Market, biting into the Kakori Kabab at Khan Chacha inspite of the Delhi Belly and listening to comparisons with speeches made by PM and a particular CM made up our day. Fights over flag hoisting, slogans against out neighbouring country and watching a man go about his day of labour was the Independence I saw.

Being stupid enough to leave my debit card in the ATM Machine and thanks to the system of messaging my transactions, watching some of my wealth erode as a good Samaritan decided to use my debit card to buy chocolates and gifts before I could block it.

Spending a day in the notorious Delhi rains traveling from Faridabad to Connaught Place to JNU to Airport with a fascinating and very talkative cab driver from Rajasthan, Shiva. He started off complaining about the rain and how he has to take a passenger on a rainy day when all of Delhi roads are jammed and flooded to insisting on having coffee with me at Costa.

This turned out to be the most fascinating part of my day as he shared with me his story, his childhood, his dreams and how we got to where he was in life. Born in a Rajasthani Family, he didn't enjoy school because he found it difficult to understand what the teacher was saying, got into bad company and dropped out of school. Ran away from home to prove that he can be on his own and will come back only when he has done something concrete with his life. Met a mechanic younger than him who tool him in and taught him the trade and also taught him many a life lesson. He then asked him to leave and he has never met his Guru (teacher) ever since. He has gone looking for him but his Guru is nowhere to be found. That experience changed his life and he decided to reconnect with his family, get married and started working as a cab driver. He has no children of his own but has taken on the responsibility to take care of his brother's children as his own. He believes he wants to make the children skilled and talented and that will help them make the right choices in life. He believes education is needed but its not the most critical, skill is a bigger need.

He shared his views on politicians and the government and the general sense of anger, unrest and apathy that people have towards the government. His cynicism that nothing will change and it will just get worse for the poor people was disturbing and also telling of the sentiments of a population that has been betrayed a little too much and too often.

Catching up with many friends and missing some others, spending time being inspired by the finalists at the India NGO Awards 2012-13 and spending quality time with Suchetha as we shared our life together made our trip to Delhi a memorable one.


The many hues of Delhi: Uncleji at Sumitra Inn

It is not often that I travel to Delhi and as with any new place, it throws many new experiences my way. This trip, however, had more than its share of fascinating experiences that has prompted this post.

We stayed at the Sumitra Inn at Safdarjung Enclave, a Bed and Breakfast run by an elderly gentleman who everyone referred to as Uncleji. For some reason, he took a liking to Suchetha and myself and decided to share his experiences and wisdom with us. It was fascinating to hear stories about his marriage, about his wife whom he lost a few years back and about his approach to life. There were many nuggets of wisdom which young people like us sorely need as we take on journeys of togetherness and he was more than willing to share them.

During the early days of marriage, he used to give all his earnings to his wife. His lovely wife requested him that he clear all pending payments and then give her the remaining money. He didn't understand her reasoning for it but after much persistence relented and then one month, paid his bills, cleared his debts and then gave the remaining money to his wife. She then told him that this is the money she now has to run the house and will plan her month accordingly. She had this amazing ability to run the house with whatever money her gave her.

Once, he had to travel to Bangalore on work and wanted to buy a couple of new shirts. When he asked his wife for some money (Rs. 7 in good old days to buy 2 shirts), she flatly refused. He was angry and upset and when on his trip without the new shirts. A few weeks later she gave him the money and he was surprised. He said he didn't need the money or the shirts anymore. His wife explained that in her monthly budget there is no space for additional expenses so she could not give him the money. However, she realized that her husband needs shirts so over the last 2-3 weeks she has saved money little by little and now has the money to give him. He realized that day that his wife would always take good care of the family's needs and trusted all her decisions.

His eyes welled up when he spoke about his wife and we felt deeply moved by his love for his wife in whose memory he put up this Bed and Breakfast so he could continue to live a full life, feel grateful to have her in his life and meet new and interesting people.

Uncleji was deeply committed to service and playing an active role in the community. He helped setup the Arya Samaj centre in the neighbourhood where amongst other things they run a free dispensary for the poor and also get poor people married. During his youth, working at a public sector company, he shared many stories of selfless service. Once, when riding his scooter home, he passed by a construction site where a young lady was trying to take a break to feed her new born child. Her employer was shouting at her for wasting her time. He stopped his bike, went upto the contractor and told him that he will do the work while the mother can feed her child. He told the mother to take her time and filled in for her.

Another time, when he was driving his car, he saw a van ahead of him carrying pots. The pots fell on the road, broke and created a mess. He stopped his car and decided to remove all the broken parts from the road and put them on the side. While people honked and shouted at him, no one stopped to help him. He knew that once he cleared the road, it will ease the traffic and not cause any accidents. In the process, he cut his hand but didn't realize it.

We heard him complain about the growing anger and unrest amongst the people, the failure of the government and at the same time recognize the goodness in people. He belief in being good always and helping where he can and his experience of having understanding and tolerance in a relationship made him very endearing. Recognizing that he came from a patriarchal society, he admonished child marriage, dowry system and did not believe that girls are any inferior to men.

Uncleji gave us a gift of his wisdom and experience and we were grateful that Uncleji came into our lives, even if briefly. I have always believed that people come into our lives for a reason and we might not know that reason then but someday the dots will connect.

Meeting and spending those fleeting moments with Uncleji were definitely a highlight of our time in Delhi. 

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Navajo Nation - Caught in a Time Wrap and Keeper of Wisdom?

It's 2.27 am on Thursday, 13th June and I am restless and wide awake. I watch my city sleep as darkness has completely engulfed it. Dogs bark in a distant and there is a cold nip in the air. I am taken back in time to my visit to the Navajo Nation, a sovereign country in the United States. I visited the country and interacted with people as part of my Eisenhower Fellowship Programme. I remember coming away more disturbed than hopeful, more angry than optimistic.

You can read more about this fascinating sovereign country at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Navajo_Nation. It is a Nation within a Nation. It considers itself sovereign and free to rule itself but it appeared more like a prison within the larger nation called United States of America.

It's recent history is filled with memories of injustice and trauma that people are still struggling to move on from. In my interactions with local council members, teachers, exchange visitor officer and a marketing officer at a Casino, my eyes welled up a little too often at the kind and level of atrocities committed on them and their parents in the not too distant past.

Less than 30 years back, there was a rule to send every child to a Boarding School to learn English so that they can become civilized. It was a conscious process to ensure the following generations did not know or understand their native cultures and embraced the modern american culture and its values. Young children were forced out of their homes and forcibly sent to Boarding Schools away from their Native American parents. I heard stories of trauma and helplessness of when the kids came back from a whole year in Boarding school, they could not talk or interact with their parents because they had completely forgotten the language and had already embraced a very american lifestyle. The lovely lady from the Exchange Visitor office came to tears as she shared about her growing up years. She mentioned that she and her dad used to pick up kids from boarding schools during the summer breaks and take them back home to their parents. They used to help translate between the kids and their parents and the parents felt completely devastated that they could no longer talk to their own children. The raw wounds of that injustice lives in the memories of people of Navajo Nation today. One might say, its been long and gone and maybe its best to move on. Maybe it is and maybe they are, in their own quiet way but I can't imagine if I could ever overcome the trauma of not being able to connect and communicate with my own family.

I wonder why History is always selective and gives us always only one lens of the story. The people of Navajo Nation continue to live on charity from the United States because of sanctions and limitations imposed by the Federal Government. They are not allowed to choose which Industries they can build and invest in for this socio-economic growth and this limiting their ability to break-out of the cycle of poverty.

Yet, in all my conversations, I felt a deep sense of pride of being part of an independent nation and upholding their values and culture. Someday I hope I can understand honour like this, pride like this and people like the ones at Navajo Nation.

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