Asocial Media

Social Media, I am beginning to see, is also about voyeurism. Wanting to see what is happening in another person’s life. And I am beginning to find it a bit odd!

Such was not always the case. I found a lot of solace in Social Media for a very long time. Reasons could be many – to be in touch with lost friends (that’s good), to see what is happening in the other person’s life (why?), to feed one’s own addiction of perverse voyeurism (??) and the need to be accessible to the whole world. And be accepted, of course!

Now a few questions do come up in my head like what the need may have been to put myself out to the whole world? Was it to be acknowledged and to seek their approval? I guess so. What drives a person to seek approval from the virtual realities they call friends or connections.

The motives, if primarily are to network, to find work, is still acceptable.  Many marketing strategies have been adopted worldwide that teach professionals to use social media to build on their businesses and to reach out to the masses so that they get work. There is an integrity in this “in your face” marketing. The motive is clear – to be in your face.  Its honest at many levels.

Its when a person wants to be known and be famous wearing the mask of wanting to help the world, supposedly, by sharing quotes is where I am beginning to feel a disconnect. The makings of a pseudo intellectual; I have been there too. It worked for the time it need to but it doesn’t titillate any sense any longer. I didn’t help anyone. I just got X no of likes and comments. Some things that rung a bell with people may have been imbibed but whose credit is it?  Obviously theirs. Then why did I feel a sense of narcissistic power?

I guess media in every form has a common goal under the garb of educating and entertaining – to instill a deep sense of fear about the world that we live in. Pick up the newspaper and the news that catches your eye first is about an explosion, murder, obituaries, rape etc. Switch on the TV and the channels with the maximum TRP are the “saas bahu” serials where in every episode there is crying, deceit, anger, jealousy.  Change the channel to see a channel on animals and what do you see? A channel where the Tiger or Lion is killing its prey. And our eye balls are clued till the time the poor antelope or deer is not ripped apart by the biggies. Switch to a supposedly holistic channel and you will have a “guru” give some “gyan” about to improve your life by wearing stones, rings, metals etc.

Have we lost faith in God and our own humanity that we need to keep feeding into our fears by interacting (hardly interacting because response time is slow) with gore? All this is gory.

I attended a lecture about Obsessive Compulsive Disorders and Addictions a week back and one of the strongest addictions that were spoken of were the internet and technology. And it scared the shit out of me because it made me think of all the times, I chose to be on the internet pretending to work so I didn’t have to help in the kitchen. I hid from the true realities of a beautiful life to beat something that lacked within me – the confidence that its all great. That is what happens when you break the connection with your heart and just use the mind.

There may not be anything wrong in being a mind thinker – lots of great people are. The problem may begin when the connection with the heart is not restored and renewed from time to time. To give benefit of doubt, sometimes a situation demands, like prolonged sickness, to shut the connection with the heart because I find that it is extremely difficult to be a caregiver by being emotional. Life becomes about rules and regulations, procedures, maps, directions, duality etc. For the time, it works; it is great. But then the heart is where the beat is – the rhythm is. And if you are essentially a heart thinker – this switch if not regulated properly, can create havoc, if the switch is not put back.

Sometimes an electric shock is required to realize that the heart doesn’t need the internet or the social media platform which have the ability to consume you. Sometimes, you need a jolt to hear your heart beat. Sometimes, you need you.

Percussion Workout

HT Horizon - an article on leaderhsip facilitators and training.

A mandir of Life

Its happened again! Another face to face with death! In the last 6 days since Mandir fell down, all possible belief systems have resurrected. All theories from the seers across time have been remembered and thought about. "its always the right time", "whatever is happening is right", "who can change what God wills", "Death is the logical conclusion to life", "Who are we to say what is right or wrong?" etc and many more.

But I am still hurting! I am hurting because I never saw him awake. I saw him a few hours before he was pronounced dead, lying in the ICU with many pipes and drips sticking into his smiling face and body. His body was warm because of the ventilator and the drips, yet he was lifeless. His energy, it seemed, had left him a couple of days back. He was dead! And it sucks.

Knowing Mandir for a decade and a half was good enough for anyone to fal in love with the laughter, with the magnificient cooking and the zeal for life that he exuberated. I cant forget his laughing face and noone can whoever saw him that way. He introduced me to the Didgeridoo 10 years back. Everyone used to keep ticking him off for playing a hollow wooden branch. I saw the didgeridoo with him and was completely fascinated and then my journey with the instrument started. He taught it to so many of us but only I stuck to the instrument and have been playing it for a decade now.

I met Mandir 2 years back again after he returned from Canada and we jammed again. He pointed out that he is happy that I carried on playing the didgeridoo. And immediately after that we ate. Eating is also what connecting Mandir and me. During the month of Ramadan, years back, in the freezing Delhi Winter, Mandir and I would leave around 3:00 AM for Jama Masjid to eat Nihari. We did that so often. We travelled to Pushkar together for New Years and sat on the dunes and laughed and enjoyed. That was Mandir for me! I used to pick him up at 1:00 AM couple of times a week to go and check the security guards. That used to be a bonding session between us. We used to talk, laugh, crack jokes as if it was the last day on earth and there was a competion on who could laugh more.

And now he is not there! Because we burned his body on August 24th, 2010 after the great soul donated his eyes. He was pronouned brain dead at 4:30 PM. Reason: a Grade V Brain haemmorage. Was this the end of him? I dont think so because his legacy will live on through his eyes which will give light to a blind person very soon. There will be someone who will wear our friend's eyes and see the world through them. I am hoping this man would love the colours of life in the same way Mandir did.

What I saw in Mandir's family has left me speechless. How his mother controlled her tears throughout the agonizing 24th of August. She shed two tears when I reached the hospital from the airport and shed 2 tears when she saw off her son while he was being taken for cremation. His wife of not even 2 years, Deeksha, was still, in a daze, almost looking drugged. She accompanied her husband on his last journey. Abir, Mandir's brother, who stood like the Rock of Gibraltar, unmoved, unphased, still, composed while he informed his family about his brother passing away and then performing the last rites with the same calm. Hats off to the family! I couldnt hold myself, i cried from time to time, moreso because I was left speechless.

Mandir's death brought all us friends together. Devjeet and Subro left from Calcutta, a night before. Trimon, Ronty, Soumya, Jaya, Neha, Manish and I reached on 24th. Chetan met us there. Damyant, Priyanka, PS, Himanshu and Abhishek couldnt make it but were with us in spirit bleeding and crying just like us. We connected, laughed about memories, about the same incidents that we laugh about everytime for the last 15 years, remembering him as a person of infectious laughter.

Dear God, I am not here to blame you for taking him away from all of us, because he hasnt gone. He is there in our hearts, now and for ever. His molecular structure has been burned but he exists at an atomic level here on earth. Dear God, I am upset but not angry with you because you know what is best and life and death are two rules of your game that you play with us. Dear God, I have one single request, gift Mandir one thing. Free him of the cycle of life and death and let him gain divine freedom.

The Week July 2010 edition - An article on self help people

Kashmir - the chained paradise

When the aircraft started to descend from the clouded leviathonous skies into Srinagar, the first thing that came to my mouth was “Janaat”. I wasn’t lying. After Jahangir spoke his words marking Kashmir as paradise, the impression stuck. It deserved to. As the aircraft was about to land, another reality struck my head. The green roofed make shift huts and buildings. It doesn’t take too long for an army child to figure out that the defences were a very much a part of Kashmir’s reality. The green meant the military. It was everywhere. After the plane landed and we disembarked, the aircraft was surrounded by stern looking defence personnel with sophisticated plastic butted weapons. For a stranger, this is strange. For me, the stranger, it wasn’t. Maybe, being brought up in the army for as long as I remember, seeing weapons gave me a thrill – a rush. Iqbal came to receive me. Obviousely he is known in Srinagar. A lot of the airport staff were hovering around him trying to catch his eye. He runs one of the biggest travel agencies in Srinagar. His father is politically connected and have been one of the old families in Srinagar. Although all the importance was being given to him, it was a pleasure to stand next to him and receive the residual ego massage. After he instructed the airport official to get my luggage before it actually arrived, we left for home a drive through the city that took about 40 minutes. I was quiet with my eye balls scanning through what it could. The security was intense all over with weapons being pointed carelessly at all passing cars. It was all part of the drill. Iqbal showed me beautiful bungalows soon after we left the airport and claimed that they belonged to barbers, maids and the laundry man. 2 storey bungalows being owned by not very economically sound people. One cannot forget the riches of the Kashmiri pandits being left to the masses when most of them left Kashmir almost a decade and a half back. Honestly the beauty of the houses, the landscapes kept making me forget the enforced military reality time and time again. Even though the military was placed every 50 meters.

I fell in love with Iqbal’s house. Once you have turned into the Bakshi Manzil – a complex with many bungalows all belonging to the Bakshi family and its extensions, his house is the one tat catches your eye. The Chinar trees, only found in Kashmir, with its leaves resembling a mix of the maple and marijuana caught my attention. The trees are huge and old. Every spring, Kashmir tunes orange. The leaves start shedding with its leaves turning into the colour of the sun at dusk and the paradise is given a new face all ready for winter. I believe it is another world all together. Iqbals house, when we arrived, was flooded. There was a make shift sand bag blockage to guard against the water that was looking at a countless ways to enter the house. Kashmir this year has had incessant rains that would almost always lead to flooding houses. Once we concluded the voyage of hopping on bricks to reach the main entrance and jumping aross the sand bag bridge, his mother was there with the most pleasant and graceful smile and lunch. Although I wasn’t really hungry, the thought of having Kashmiri food in Kashmir was too tempting. Goshtababas – meat balls cooked in a white sauce along with Haak – a special kashmiri spinach preparation. What else can a person ask for? I have been very fond of Iqbals’ mother since the first day I met her. The grace with which she talks is something that is rare in today’s world. She is 60 plus but has flawless skin reminding me of my maternal grandmother who had the same complexion till a few years back. She is gorgeous and the sweetness in her voice makes my knees quiver. After food, the brains stop working for me. This is not new. Everytime I have a feast in front of me, my gustatory senses work overtime. And post the meal, siesta strikes. But I forgot I was with Iqbal. I have known this guy fro ever a decade and realised in the past few years that he loves attention and hates being ignored. After we relaxed, not slept, for a while, we moved out to the Dal. The Dal Lake offered the best view of the cloud covered mountains. It is the very beauty of the lake that has captured people’s imagination and creativity for centuries. In my mind when I was younger, srinagar was the Dal with shikharas with colourful upholstery. It was true. We went for a shikhara ride to a small island called Char Chinari in the middle of the lake. Char Chinari has four Chinar trees hence the name. There is a house boat run by J & K tourism where we sat and had toast and butter with Kashmiri Kahwa and regular tea. Yes, this is janaat. So real, so accessible, so ignored!! A road called the Boulevard runs along the lake with vendors selling bhutta and tuji – barbequed mutton pieces on skewers. Awesome!! We ate again. And once the corn and mutton were mixed well in the stomachs, we headed home. To eat again!

Iqbals’ father usually comes back from work and bride around 9 pm and that is when dinner is laid. I am always very weary of fathers in general because I know my own father very well. We have always thought that our parents are fools but contrary to popular belief, it is otherwise. His father has a very pleasant personality but the fathers will be fathers. I guess this fear goes back to when we were in college. At our naughtiest and rascaliest best. But there was nothing much to worry about now. We were grown ups, kind off, and were working, hardly, and had learnt to speak without fear, sometimes. The dinner was another orgy of meat. His father was tired so he went up soon after dinner. Iqbal and I retired to his room. My bed was laid there and honestly, I wasn’t wanting to sleep anywhere else. I always knew about certain presence in Iqbals’ house. His mom had mentioned that they saw an old lady in the attic the night before. In the four days that I was in Kashmir, I never went to the second floor. This was strange for me because I like to put my fingers in all this jazz. But something more exciting happened while I was in Srinagar. There are a few photos that were clicked with a digital camera and there are circles of light that have appeared in the photos. Most of the orbs have appeared over Iqbal, Omar and my pictures. Aamir has been left out of all this excitement. I think it has something to do with him being a chartered accountant.

Jaagte Raho!!!!

Jaagte Raho!

Remember the scene in old Bollywood Films where the chowkidaar in a khakhi dress, dangling the “lath” on the ground making a rather jarring sound kept shouting “Jaagte Raho, Jaagte Raho”.

They still do it in some parts of the country.

But in the big cities, dare you not call them chowkidaars! They are Security Guards wearing fancy uniforms with lots of logos.

I thought that TOPS Security – one of India’s largest security providers, also always in Commercial Bollywood films, would do a good job of letting people know that security guards do know their jobs. Models wear Security uniforms when they want to show an efficient worker.

But when they want to show the ugly side of a security guard, they will show, like in the recent, “Atitihi, tum kab jaoge?” the security guard had half his shirt out, unshaved, untrained; basically a bad chowkidar with a uniform. Or in the Detective Series CID that comes on Sony TV, why is that the security guard is always hand in glove with the crooks or has been instrumental during the crime? Why is he always shown as being drunk or sleeping? What perception does this impression come from?

Every perception has an iota of truth in it!

So how have security companies run till 2009. Like companies that deploy not security guards but “darbans”. Darbans who would open and close your gates, sweep the drive way because the clients will pay them some extra tips, drink with the clients and then obviousely would be in a drunken state to do their job well. Then the security companies get blamed. Why not! Why couldn’t the security guard hold his horses? Why does he not respect the uniform of the company that provides for his food and his family’s well being. Jis thaali mein woh khaata hai, usee main who chaed kyon karta hai? Why does he leave without informing the office? Why does the client want the security guard to clean floors or garages or houses? Why do they not want to pay the security company minimum wages laid down by the state. Why are the clients being feudal?


There are a lot many questions which cross my mind since I took over Progressive Security Services – a firm started by my father, Col. Lalit Badhwar( Retd.) 13 years back after he retired from the Armoured Corps after serving the Indian Army for 40 years. He did not want to take a job listening to some youngsters orders. So he started a security firm. By default, after serving in the Army, one knows about security procedures. But my father went a step further. He registered for a course with the Directorate General Resettlement and got its membership only after clearing his examination.



And Progressive Security was floated. The firm has run very methodically ever since with personalized, professional and prompt service. There are always glitches – like mass exodus of guards 3 -4 times a year, big payments not reaching us in time because the client doesn’t have money, cheques are lost, government baboos need some liquid motivation with some greens so that there fingers can move; the glitches are many like I said, but the work always goes on.

As I am also a behavioral, leadership and communication facilitator and have run Syngrity Consultants for 9 years, the skill had to come in to Progressive Security when I decided to come in. for the first One year, I learned and observed keeping shut not suggesting any major changes. How can you change a system without being a part of it? That is what I have taught senior leadership and managers who are chronic cribbers. As fate would have had it, the organization was handed over to me in precisely 10 minutes, when my father was detected with malignancy. I thought a hand over took some more time – atleast a day! Not 10 minutes for sure. But then, sometimes things happen so fast sometimes, that there is no time. I have the BPO industry to thank for this fire. BPO’s run like that. Something is on now, it changes in 2 hours. Also, my discipline of martial arts and body emotive therapies came very handy – kept me grounded. And my family – which is always encouraging.

One of the things that I have always believed in is good customer service especially in 21st century India. I wrote about it in “ I am Customer Service” - a book I authored 4 years back and trained 4000 people on it. Customer Service is an extension of who you are. If 5 minutes of a chat seems like a gigantic task, then customer service is not in you. Go home! Mahatma Gandhi besides the many wonderful things that he shared and taught this country made a little mistake – by declaring that CUSTOMER IS GOD. Thankfully in Hindustan amongst the Hindus, there are millions of Gods. If Customer is one God then the service provider is another God. In a Feudalism thriving India, having Customers be Gods is a bit of a disaster. For some strange reason, a country that boasts of many cultures, a rich heritage and a huge socio-cultural support system, people still like to be in Control. Look at all the movies from the 80’s and 90’s and earlier than that. If someone hired a worker, that meant that the hired became a servant. The hirer had all the rights to use, abuse the hired. Customer was God. I would like to see which God abused the service provider. But thankfully now service providers are Gods too; thank God to the fact that Hindus like to worship everything and everyone.

Another thing I hold very strongly is dignity and respect- irrespective of what strata of society you come from. I must also confess here that sometimes, I have had to physically shake a guard to get him out of his stupor or If a guard has been involved in some unruly activity. But dignity is a must. I also realized that dignity comes with basic needs being fulfilled. One of the things that I was and am interested in was to increase the salaries of my guards but that was only possible if my clients paid my well. Dealing with the uneducated amongst the educated lot is a tough one. I have had clients who would spend 25k at a dinner but would not pay me enough money so that the guard can be paid well. The usual excuses that I have got are that other companies provide guards for 5 or 6 k, why should I be charging more?

Ill tell you why. Because these other companies pay their guard 2.5 – 3 k. Their guard has no training, no supervision, no sense of uniform, was maybe a rickshaw puller or a loader at a booze shop. The rest of the money is bagged.

Why should the client pay a little bit more? Because if he pays the company well, the security organization of some character will pay the guard well, as per the minimum wages, will earn the guard’s loyalty so that he can do his job properly. If the security personnel is paid well, he will want to work.



At Syngrity Consultants, I have dealt with so many people from different backgrounds. They are open to holistic teachings and are open to develop themselves personally because they have their basic needs fulfilled – roti, kapda aur makaan. The unskilled and semiskilled guards ( the government recognizes guards as unskilled????) that I deal with want their basic needs fulfilled first and then they will think of other things, as I am told. Fair enough!

Mrs. Sheila Dixit w.e.f Feb 2010 increased the minimum wages by 33%. A very good thing for the security guards et all. But shouldn’t the money come from the clients?

The Private Security Agency Regulation Act 2005 (PSARA) became effective in Delhi w.e.f Jan 1st, 2010 which has put a lot of pressure on security organizations to train their guards for 170 hours, charge only minimum wages etc etc. I look at this as a positive move on the part of Ministry of Home Affairs but somewhere very soon, they will need to give us rights and just not adding regulations. Security organizations and guards have no rights! If They are deployed at a particular post and someone tries to forcibly enter the premises, the guard should not try to stop him but should call 100. This was told to me three days back by a Police Inspector at the Hauz Khas Police Station. If he tries to stop the intruder, he is taking the law in his own hands. Is he talking sense? I told him, that we are not darbans, we are security personnel and he can’t reprimand us for doing our job right. He obviously didn’t want to listen. Why cant the police and security companies’ work together all the time? Why does the beat constable have to collect “hafta” from security guards. 10 – 20 bucks is what is collected at times.

Coming back to the PSARA 2005, there is still no office set up by the Ministry of Home Affairs. So where should security companies go to get a license? Where do mid range players go to get trained guards? Top end companies like Group 4 Securicor, TOPS, Securitas, 24 etc etc are big players and have or can afford to have their own training facilities. The low end players ( the ones who are charging 4-5k per guard) will hopefully go out of the market. If not, at least their market share will reduce. But what happens to the mid range players such as Progressive Security.

Eureka!

We have Central Association of Private Security Industry (CAPSI) – an apex body at State and National Level for security industry. CAPSI has signed MOU’s with various state governments to provide trained security personnel to security companies registered with them. They are trained not for 170 hours as required by PSARA but for 2 months and then they pass out where Progressive Security can go and hire them directly.

God bless CAPSI for the brilliant work they are doing. They have one requirement though. They want the security organizations to pay them minimum wages – a fair reimbursement for a security personnel. A tip for better security - pay the guard well.

Security Organizations need to start hiring correctly, need to deploy properly trained personnel. Unless that happens, the chowkidaars and darbans wearing uniforms with fancy logos will keep doing Jaagte Raho. The attitude of security should change with people around the country. Security means to be safe and safety is everyone’s right. The guards need to understand that wearing a uniform is a lot of responsibility and this responsibility does not entail sweeping floors, changing job for 500 bucks extra, drinking on the job irrespective of who serves them and to be vigil. This is an attitude shift. It will be a while till the security organizations, clients, security personnel understand this shift in attitude. At least I have sowed the seeds.