Well-written Letters

Recently I read a book called English August. I loved reading that book, after reading it, I browsed through it again to re-read the underlined paragraphs and remarkable pages. It was at this time, that I noticed how awesome the letters that characters of the book had written to each other were. Indeed I like well written letters and emails, and the ones I found in this book were just the perfect.

Most of these letters are just conversations between the protagonist, and his father, they clearly have the shades of being written by men standing at two different points of the time scale. There are couple of letters which are from Agastya’s friends also. The first letter in book appears as a reply from Agastya’s father, it starts with an apology for being late, but as he wrote, “He wanted time to compose his reply.”   He further writes that he had received a letter from Agastya on 4^th Afternoon. “I read it immediately and once again in the night. I am unhappy at your unhappiness. You have not mentioned it specifically but it is palpable in every line of your letter.”  This letter from his father ends, gently nudging Agastya to write regularly and assuring that he too, will try to be regular. A line in the book says Agastya read the letter, and once again with a half smile on his face as he pictured his father writing it.

In the letter that followed from Agastya he kept it brief, terse and clear. He accepted the impression his father had got about his being unhappy and requested him to call a family relative and ask him to offer another job. He also mentioned that during a holiday break, he will be going to Delhi instead of Calcutta, without citing any reason.

Another interesting letter, a little different than that of, Agastya’s and his father’s, is from a friend of Agastya called Dhrubo.  Here is a first line of the letter followed by its description in book, “Renu that Punjaban I was fucking, has gone to America. (So began the letter, without a date or a hello. But that was Dhrubo’s style, abrupt and ashamed of emotions)”  

The next letter is again from Agastya’s father, as he responds to Agastya’s request of putting him in touch with a family relative that can help him find another job. He expressed his surprise at Agastya’s decision, however has done as directed. One of the most powerful lines of this letter goes like this “Ogu (Agastya’s nickname), don’t choose the soft option just because it is the soft option, one cannot fulfil oneself by doing so. Yet it is also true that it is your life and decisions have to be yours.”

The last letter that book contains is again from Agastya’s friend, named Neera. She writes in opening lines that she had written to inform him that she lost her virginity. And asked how he liked her formal announcement.  Strongest lines from this letter are “My other feelings are very confused but I am unequivocally, relieved. I have taken a plunge, so to speak.”

All these letters are written in different context environ and mental makeup of these characters writing them, however one thing that cuts across all of them is an honesty of expression. I believe it is this honesty that makes an expression transcend from the sender to the receiver of the letter.

When was the last time you took time to compose a letter? What different tones your letters have had, request, plain bickering, care, concern, love, confession? When was the last time, you could read something more in a letter than plain content it carried?  Writing a letter is like putting a part of your mind and heart on paper and show it to your reader, it’s not just about an ink on white paper, it’s a lot more when done well.

** Italicized and emboldened lines are taken from a book "English August" by Upamanyu Chaterjee

If I met Rahul Dravid today

Would you still say that a captain is just as good as his team?  I would not, perhaps.  As a man at twilight of your career, is it harder for you than us mere fans to face this horrendous treachery of your team-mates?  Considering the fact that the ones, who cheated, were the ones on whom you had rested your faith, as a captain to win you games, does it hurt more? I am sure it would, it reflected in a statement you read at the press conference.

I am sure you remember the vicious bouncer he bowled to Kallis when we were in South Africa. From first slip, it would have been so fascinating seeing him bowl the way he does, sporadically. You would also, perhaps, recount back in 2006 when we visited West Indies under your captaincy, he had bowled so fabulously.

He was also a lucky mascot for Dhoni, or so it seemed to us fans – at least. T-20 World cup final against Pakistan and the catch he took, almost shakily. Only two games he played in World cup of 2011, the first and the last. The kind of cricket India played in both those competitions is still a source of pride, happiness and solace for us Indian cricket fans.

And of the other two young guys of your team, well what to say. Did you take their loyalty, spirit and passion for granted? Did you, any time, think that they will go so out of the aura of your presence as a captain? I hope your presence, besides instilling cricketing sense, inspires some moral sense too. In fact, the inspiration you provide for work ethic far supersedes the cricketing skills you inspire. You are my idol in work ethic.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not trying to tell you that you are, in any way, responsible for this moral failure of your team-mates. In fact if there is anything that can save a team from going into complete mess it is a presence of a player like you. I know you are more than capable of putting this behind and play even better cricket, just to ensure that cricket wins over all these stupidities and absurdities.

What I wish to highlight Rahul, though, is the common thread that you now share with most of us. A thread of being cheated, back stabbed, weakened, defeated by those whom you considered as not only team mates, but also family members – as you stressed again in your conference.  

It hurts when those with whom you wish to win, defeat you, your purpose and presence.  Small and out of focus as we as common people are, it’s easy for us to develop our defence mechanism, and find a way out of any such mishap.  I believe it will be more difficult for you, as you need to pull an entire team out of it, and that too under the extra critical eyes of media on you all the time.

I wish you bat, next time, not with anger and sense of vengeance or to prove any point to anyone, you don’t need to do any of that. Just show us how to rise above all such treacheries, wrongdoings and immoral practices.

Show us how the cover drives still flow; the square cut still lacerates the ground, an on drive that bisects mid-wicket and mid on perfectly and a flick that’s as sweet to the ears as it is to the eyes. Show us that while there is corruption, deceit, treachery and much more that we wish never existed, there is a kind of people, a kind which rises above all of it, and lifts all, like us, who pin our hopes on you.

I know I am perhaps asking a lot, but you are the best wall I have ever known. 

From Musaddi To Mahatma - Travails of Passport -Part two

Officials at the passport office accepted my suggestion, and finally allowed me to pay a penalty and gave me the closure letter of that application.  When I got this closure letter, it had been 11 months to my stay in the new city, so I decided to let one more month pass before applying afresh so that I have to only provide the proofs of my present address.  

Now I had entered the last quarter of the extension that my employer would grant me to continue without submitting this document. I was not in a position to afford any other slip, so I checked every letter of my application twice, before submitting. After the online submission, the next step of challenge was to get the online appointment, I had heard that getting this appointment is almost as tough as getting a tatkaal ticket from IRCTC website.

The slot to book the appointment opens at 6 in the evening, so I had taken my place from 5:30 in front of my laptop in order to take the appointment. I had even switched off my cell phone in order to avoid any call at the crunch time. As a practice I also entered the CAPTCHA a few times just to get my fingers moving swiftly. Every time I entered a letter wrong in the CAPTCHA a few drops of sweat would trickled down the forehead, and I would tell myself to focus more.

At 6 suddenly the site slowed down, I realized that the battle had begun, scores of people chasing a few coveted slots. It was a time for the hefty payments behind high speed internet to finally pay off, some sort of return.  It was like beginning of a 100 meter sprint, any slip in the first step would close all chances of making it over the line first.  And I slipped on the first step; vital most icon at the right bottom of my screen told me sadly that the connection was “Local only”.  I quickly went away from my laptop for its safety.  Not only did I walk out of the room, I walked out of my apartment and went for a long walk.

On coming back, I checked for the time when the next slot for appointment was to open, the website told me it was to open on Monday.  I was still feeling agitated, and called a friend of mine to vent out the agony. He told me not to worry about it till Monday and try afresh on Monday.

Next Monday, I went to a cyber café, hoping that a change in venue will bring a change in luck. It did, I could manage an appointment.

On the day of the appointment I went to the Seva Kendra and submitted my application. By the time I came back from there to my home, I had got an SMS from the local police station for the verification. I called at the same number and asked if I could come right away, the police official agreed and off I went there for the verification. The official nudged me to give him something, and swiftly I took out a paper containing photograph of the man most revered. Quietly handed over to him from below the table. All of it happened in a span of 3 minutes, I stood in disbelief. I asked him if there was anything else to be done for the verification, he replied saying it was done.

Was he saying that the process that had drained me off completely in last one year had been finally over?  I wanted to re-confirm so I asked if I needed to go there again or any formality was left. He declined and assured me that it was over.

15 days later, I got my passport, during these 15 days I had that same nightmare couple of times again that things had taken a rude turn again. But luckily this time, I got my passport. (With a smiling photograph)J

Now when I look back at the whole thing, from a distance, many different thoughts run through the mind. Did I adopt a wrong approach? Did I dishonour and disobeyed the very principles that the man whose photo is on every currency preached?

I acted selfish, and raised no voice because I badly needed that document. Someone had recently remarked that it is this kind of selfish behaviour that is a root cause of some of the most heinous crimes in our society.  

So was I also, through this episode, somewhere weakening our society?  

***Title of this post is inspired by a famous satirical TV Serial Office-Office’s character Musaddi Lal, who is always shown caught in the quagmire of bureaucracy and finally has to pave his way by offering bribe. 

From Musaddi to Mahatma: Travails of Passport

I applied for my passport around a year back. At that point of time, I had recently moved to a new city and hadn’t found myself a suitable place where I could think to stay for considerable amount of time.  So I decided to apply for a passport from my home-town.

This seemingly innocuous step turned out to be a beginning of one of the longest, dreaded and draining chapters of my life. What made matters worse was that my employer had a policy which linked a passport to my professional progress, hence the pressure to get this document increased a little bit more.  

Once I applied from my home-town in a matter of few weeks a police inquiry was initiated. Of several questions that the police has to answer in Yes or No; one checks whether an applicant is staying at an address from where he is applying. The police official sent a negative report requesting passport issuing authority not to issue me the passport. Not only did he send a negative report despite my repeated requests, he also insulted, bullied and threatened me of consequences of this mistake.  His rudeness made me realize that any discussion with that man was going to be futile.

I moved back to work and decided to wait for the passport office to send me a notice for clarification due to the negative Police Verification Report. This wait went very long, so I decided to fly back to my hometown and check with the passport office as to why they had not sent me the notice. I also enquired with them if I could myself pay the penalty and close my application so that I can re-apply from the city where I worked. However they rejected this request saying that without a notice, they could not accept the penalty. I had no option but to wait for the notice, in order to pay the penalty and close that application.

 Couple of months went by, but the notice still did not come. So I went again, to check why I had not been sent this notice. On enquiring this time, I found that the Passport office had received an electronic report, but they had still not received a hard copy of it from the police department. They told me; again I had to wait till they receive a hard copy of the report.  By this time, I was angry and frustrated by snail like pace of this process so I decided to check with the police authorities for status of the hard copy of report. Unfortunately, state elections were going on during these days, and I was told all cops were busy with duties for it, and I should check post elections.

By this time, I was exhausted both economically and emotionally. I had started having nightmares that my passport will perhaps never come, that in this slowing economy, I may lose a job (where I was doing quite well) due to such a stupid and unfortunate accident called -- Bureaucracy. On the other hand my bank account was depleting due to repeated trips to my hometown!!

Post elections, I went back again – this time I had taken a leave of full three days and had resolved to get this application closed at any cost. I had told one of my close friends that this time I had come with a same kind of resolve that Gandhi had made when he left Sabarmati Ashram. Looking back it seems hilarious how a small piece of document had become so important to me! J

This time, I first went to the police officials and took a dispatch number through which they had sent my report to the Passport office. Having made me sit out for entire day, police official obliged in the evening by giving me dispatch number and date. I left his office after profusely thanking him.

Armed with this lethal weapon, I went to passport office again. Giving the dispatch number I had thought I would almost order them to find my report, generate a notice, accept the penalty and give me a closure letter.

However in span of three hours my vigour had fizzled out. Even with the dispatch number they could not trace my report. I suggested them same thing that I had told them, again and asked if I could pay the penalty basis my own submission.

While all these events were happening, my employer was also constantly enquiring about the status of my passport application. Although they had given me a timeframe of one year, nobody likes the constant sword looming on one’s head. I had already started feeling a second class citizen because of not having a passport.  

What happened to my suggestion???

To be continued in next piece