The One Minute Manager: A Book Review

Author(s): Dr. Ken Blanchard & Dr. Spencer Johnson, Country: United States, Language: English, Genre(s): Business/ Self-help/Motivational, Publisher: William Morrow & Co

                 'The One Minute Manager' is written by Dr. Ken Blanchard and Dr. Spencer Johnson both being internationally recognized authors. Through this book the authors want to help people experience better health and lesser stress through better communication. 
                 The facts will tell you that it has sold more than 13 million copies and been translated into 37 languages. And that's what this book talks about 'facts' about behavior and 'truth' that is inevitable. The truth which will hold good universally, be it in a circus, at home, at school or at any organisation.


SUMMARY:
                 The story revolves around a young aspiring manager who wants to know  the secret to efficient man-management. And after analyzing so many 'autocratic' and 'democratic' managers, he comes across 'quite a guy' who calls himself 'a One Minute Manager'. Who tells the young man to know the secret to his 'productive yet supportive' organisation from his subordinates. And when he finally lands up on 'the secrets' he finds himself nothing but amused at how simply and quickly he learnt a great deal about how to come across a Win-Win situation in case of producing results and winning over the people just by making them feel good about themselves and also being honest and upfront about the tasks in hand.

WRITING STYLE:
                 Also what is fascinating is the charm in his writing. We often come across 'managing mantras' which will bore you to death but this hundred odd paged copy is a reader's delight and with no uncertain words and to the point metaphors which leave you with a knowing smile on your face. The author ponders upon keeping things simple, short term and efficient leading to greater productivity. And yes! he double underlines on 'Implementation' part. And how well does he implement in his writing skill. The language is simple and the vocabulary is so easy on you that you will hardly take a peak into The Oxfords or The Collins.

MY THOUGHTS:
                 You just cannot put it down till  you turn the last page And by the end of it you yourself feel like a One minute manager yourself. But don't forget! learning is half the part, implementation is the key. Just like i tried to fill you in with this 250 word review but alas! I failed, just because 'The One Minute Manager' is that very good, and I am still learning (*wink*).

                 This whole review may look very one-dimensional but it really is 'Quite a Book' just like the One Minute Manager! And I am sure you will hit the Wheeler or Crosswords soon!

-V. V. Talavanekar

Think about it!

             We all here are very ordinary, All we do is sit, watch, analyse and talk; about those people who never paused, who never just watched and let things happen but they thought of it and did what they felt was right.
             The point I want to make is, STOP this thing! STOP judging a person! Get on with your lives! Because the truth is, the man you are talking about, the man who is looming so large in your thoughts, for him you were never there. So spare yourself the misery of misconceptions and start towards your own day.

             Only one in a million live a life worth writing about, to be more precise 'worth' debating about. And many historians, observers take a step forward and start penning down an image, an image they wish to portray, 'A Biography'. But in my opinion what they end up portraying is a frail blurry 2-D projection on an old ragged cloth based on beat-up ideologies.
             You know why?
             because one can never find a Neutral historian if he ever exists he will never be a historian but a helpless little 'reporter'. Historian is never a neutral, He always has a stand. In his stories there is always a God And there is always a Goon. And he never sits as a chair umpire he will always be on either side of the net. If he sees the protagonist as 'Goon' Then the tale will be of treachery and sins, and 'The God' will be dressed in heroics and glory.
But lets try this for an instance,
Ask a mother/father and a teacher to share what they thought of their kid, then go to his most passionate lover and his most devoted friend, set a meeting with his Accountants, lawyers and Personal secretaries, And then a testimonial from his most fears enemy. And to bind it together take a sneak peek in to his letterbox and a few drafts which never got published.
             And now what you have is, a little bit sketchy but most nearest 3-D sculpture you can get. And above-mentioned are the components of your 3-D Projector. Because these are the people who ever mattered to him. . .
. . and the rest of the world?? Well, It never existed! not in his eyes, neither in his thoughts and yeah! nor in his biography!
Think about it.

-V. V. Talavanekar

Sissy, You Rock so Awesome

Well, Sister! I mean you always rock!
And I Don't always say it !
But When I fail at something. .
and you still come up with something to bling,
No matter how stupid it is! Even If it isn't legit,
coz You just know that I will love it!

You know Sissy You rock so Awesome,
When I am stuck in problems,
And with you often do they come,
Leaving me clueless of the way ahead,
You would come up with an idea so stupid. .
And the problem would hide forever under the bed.

You Girl, is the darling I love,
You Ma'am, is the lady I respect,
Coz I know you will be there for me always. .
No No! not for those sad-senti days. . 
But to mock the ones with serious-sober face. .
Just me and you together. .
The Rockers with god's grace ;)

-V. V. Talavanekar

It's simple, It really is!

               For the complications of unknown, we spend most of the time over-thinking and make the most fatal errors at the fork. Why force a winner when you can enforce a stale-mate doing the basics? Just sit back and ride on your path, Enjoy the jolly good surroundings and make a simple yet beautiful world of it.

               Just keep it simple, till you get your bearings back. And believe me, It is quite Simple!

 

Its a simple thing, living.

With lungs that breath,

a heart that beats,

and eyes that speak without needs,

Sipping in the freshness,

Looting The Fridge while your mum busy cleaning the desk,

Talking for hours with buddies with a charm,

and a bit of laughter will do you no harm,

From a seldom shredded tear,

To a tender touch of caring,

Under starlit skies at fortnight, A well-wisher,

Who like always. . . got it right.

Listening to mumma's gossips

and papa's words of wisdom,

a night out with friends,

and their rendezvous to freedom.

Its really simple my friend

For we are good for trillions of relations. .

Its the over-thinking that brings in the complications,

Its the only thing which does all the undoing,

Otherwise its a simple thing my friend, This living. .

-V. V. Talavanekar

धागे-दोरे

             रॉनीने वाईन शॉप समोरच्या सिग्नलला गाडी उभी केली. सिद्धार्थने फक्त 'रोज का ना? ' एवढंच विचारलं नि दार उघडून निघाला. पाठून रॉनी काहीच बोलला नाही म्हणजे 'हो!' हे त्याला काही वेगळं सांगायला नको होतं.

             रॉनी समोर ये-जा करणाऱ्या गाड्या पाहण्यात गुंग होतं. तेवढ्यात खिडकीवर एक चिमुरडा येऊन थबकला. 'साब, खिलोना ले लो! साब!' 'पच्चीस का एक है साब'! त्याला पाहून रॉनीने नकारार्थी मान हलवली. तरी त्याची 'साब लेलो ना, ले लो ना' ची सरबत्ती चालूच होती.

रॉनी तुसडेपणाने हात भिरकावत खेकसला 'जा ना मेरे बाप. .' आणि म्हणता  म्हणता मध्येच थांबला. कशाने तरी त्याचं लक्ष वेधून घेतलं. तो स्वतःशी थोडासा हसला आणि पोराच्या खेळण्याचा झोळीकडे बोट  दाखवत म्हणाला, 'वो गुडिया देना. कितने की है?'

             'पच्चीस रुपये. इम्पोटेड है साब.' पोर म्हणालं. 
             'हं..' करत रॉनीने dashboard वर ठेवलेले पैसे त्याला दिले. पोरगा गेला. सिद्धार्थ आत शिरला, बॉटल आत ठेवताना बाहुली पाहून चमकून गेला. 'आता हे काय नवीन?' रॉनी ने हसून पाहिलं आणि त्या बाहुलीच्या गळ्यात असलेली मण्यांची माळ काढून घेतली व ती किलकिल्या डोळ्यांची बाहुली तिथेच सिग्नलवर फेकून दिली. आणि गाडी ब्रिजकडे वळवली.

             ब्रिज वर बसून chill करणे हा सिड आणि रॉनी चा दर शनिवारचा बेत. आज रॉनी काहीसा वेगळ्याच मूड मध्ये होता, रॉनी ने ती माळ का घेतली? याचा सुगावा काही लागत नव्हता पण तो अगदी आनंदाने ती माळ त्याच्या हातात नाचवत होता. पण सिद्धार्थ काही बोलला नाही.
             रात्र चढत गेली. हवेत गारवा होता पण इथे मात्र रॉनीचं मस्तक खणखणत होतं.
             'साली लाईफ ची पण ना सरकार झालीय! काहीच कंट्रोल नाय आपला! पब मध्ये गेल्यावर जसं DJ जे वाजवेल त्याच्या बिट्स वर मुकाट्याने नाचायचं, ओला घसा कोरडा होईपर्यंत 'DJ SUCKS!' 'DJ SUCKS!' किंचाळलं तरी काहीही इकडचं तिकडे होत नाही आपल्याने.'

             सिद्धार्थ अनिमिष नजरेनं पाहत होता, तसं रॉनीच्या अशा बोलण्यात नवीन असं काहीच नव्हतं, दर वीक-एन्डला दोन बिअर डाऊन झाल्यावर बाटली उघडल्यावर जसा फेस फसफसत वर येतो तसा रॉनी नित्याने आठवड्याला आपला कोटा रिकामी करायचा. पण एरवी संथपणे वाहणारा प्रवाह आज एक निराळीच उसंत घेत होता, सिद्धार्थ एक गोष्ट उमजून होता, शब्द खेळतात लपंडाव पण डोळ्यांना मात्र शब्दच्छल जमत नसतो. म्हणून तो रॉनीच्या आडवा गेला नाही त्याला बोलू दिलं.

             'काहीच नाही काय रे करू शकत आपण? आपली कुठेच नाही चालत काय रे? आपण आज असे 'vulnerable' कसे झालो रे? एके काळी मेहफिलीत उठणं बसणं असायचं आज हे असे इथे दर शनिवारी या सडक्या नाल्यावर ब्रिजला टेकून आपल्याच पैशाची दारू पिताना, मंदिरातल्या दानपेटीतून आठाणे उचलताना जशी फिलिंग यावी तसं काहीसं वाटतंय आज. . . '

             रॉनीचं बोलणं ऐकता ऐकता सिद्धार्थचं लक्ष सहज त्याच्या फोनच्या वॉलपेपर कडे गेलं. फार जुना फोटो होता, गोव्याच्या रोडट्रिपचा. रॉनी, शेखर, नचिकेत सगळ्यांच्या हातात रंगीत ब्रेसलेट होते, दिसायला अगदी हुबेहूब आजच्या त्या माळेसारखी. सिद्धार्थचा गुंता सुटला, त्याच्या चेहऱ्यावर एक कठोर छबी उमटली. त्याने हातातली बिअर घट्ट आवळली.
             '. .साला आपल्या पंटर लोकांची आठवण येतेय रे..' रॉनी बोलत होता, पण रॉनी पुढे काही बोलणार तोच सिद्धार्थ ने त्याच्या खांद्यावर हात ठेवला आणि चिअर्स म्हणून बॉटल उंचावली. . . रॉनीला बोलायचं होतं पण एका हातात माळ खेळवत त्याने पण बाटली उंचावली, 'चिअर्स!!'

             थोडा वेळ असाच शांततेत गेला, रॉनी नाल्यात पडलेलं स्ट्रीट-लाईट चं प्रतिबिंब पाहत बसलेला. हातात ती माळ अजून हि होती. मधेच त्याला कसलीतरी चीड आली, त्याने मूठ घट्ट आवळली, हातातली माळ तुटली, माळेतले मणी रस्त्यावर विखुरले अंधारात दिसतही नव्हते कुठे गेले ते, वैतागून रॉनी ने उरलेली माळ हि भिरकावून दिली. सिद्धार्थ काण्या डोळ्याने सर्व पाहत होता, मधेच कोणाचा तरी मेसेज आला म्हणून त्याने फोन खिशातून काढला आणि परत ठेवला. आपली उरली सुरली बिअर संपवली व रिकामी बॉटल नाल्यात भिरकावून दिली.

             सिद्धार्थने मागे वळून पाहिलं. रॉनी जमिनीवर पाय पसरवून बसलेला. रॉनी जोरजोरात गात होता 'यारों दोस्ती बड़ी ही हसीन . . है . . ये न हो तो. .' सिद्धार्थने त्याच्या पाणावलेल्या डोळ्यांकडे पाहिले.

रॉनी ने डोळे वर करून सिद्धार्थ कडे पाहिलं. सिद्धार्थ मागे फिरला, रॉनीला खांद्याने धरून उभा करून घट्ट मिठी मारली नि गाडीत नेऊन पॅसेंजर सीटवर बसवलं. मग तो रॉनीचं पाकिट आणि फोन घ्यायला ब्रिजवर परतला. फोनच्या लाईटच्या उजेडात त्याने बसल्या जागी पाडलेला फोन खिशात ठेवला, एका हातात पाकीट घेतलं व निघता निघता राहिलेली बाटली लाथेने नाल्यात लवंडली आणि परत गाडीत येऊन बसला.

             सिद्धार्थच्या डोक्यात रॉनीचे शब्द व त्याचा तो विखुरलेला चेहरा गुंजन करत होते. त्याने रॉनीच्या नजरेस नजर मिळवायचा मोह टाळला कारण; सिद्धार्थ जाणून होता रॉनीला कसलं दुखः खात होतं ते. रॉनी गर्दीत रमणारा, मस्त-मौला, मित्र म्हंटला कि त्याचा जीव कि प्राण, त्याच्या priority लिस्ट वर मित्र नेहमी अव्वल क्रमांकावर असत. तो प्रेमात बेजार होणार्यांपैकी तर कधीच नव्हता. पण मित्रांसाठी येडा होता साला! ज्यांनी दगा दिला आजही त्यांच्याच नावाची माळ जपत होता.

             'बघ तुझं दुखः मी जाणतो, मला ठाऊक आहे तुला मघाशी काय बोलायचं होतं ते, शेवटी तू आणि मी काही वेगळी नव्हे, एकाच माळेचे मणी आपण. जे काही झालं त्याची झळ मलाही सोसावी लागली नाही का?' सिद्धार्थ सरळ शब्दात म्हणाला, त्यांच्यात 'एक सांगू का?' 'राग नाही ना येणार' असले सोपस्कार नव्हते. सिद्धार्थ बोलत होता नि रॉनी ऐकत होता.

             'साला सच बोलू तो दोस्ती यारी मे पैसा आ जाये ना तर सगळ्याचीच गोची होऊन जाते रे.. चुकलोच आपण . . पण आता आणखी नाही सडायचं. .  का म्हणून सारखी तीच माळ तेच मणी आणि तेच धागे दोरे कवटाळून बसायचं?....'
रॉनी ने खिडकीबाहेर नजर वळवली, त्याच्या डोळ्यात कैफ नव्हती तर स्थैर्य होतं आणि तो हे हि जाणून होतं कि सिद्धार्थ नशेत येऊन बोलत नव्हता.
             'आपण ना माणसं जोडायची, आठवणी जमवायच्या, त्यांची माळ गुंफायला तो बसलाय कि वर..'
             रॉनी ने सिद्धार्थ कडे वळून पाहिलं आणि हसला.

             'काय झालं?' सिद्धार्थच्या कपाळावर प्रश्नचिन्ह होतं.

             रॉनी गाडीची चावी फिरवत म्हणाला, 'चल निघूया आता. .'

-वि. वि. तळवणेकर.

ज़िन्दगी

 

बस युही इक रोज किसीने किया ख़याल है ज़िन्दगी,
इक अनसुलझा-सा सवाल है ज़िन्दगी,
किसी की खलती कमी का एहसास है ज़िन्दगी,
किसी की ख़ामोशी में छुपे अलफ़ाज़ है ज़िन्दगी। 

 

किसी की बातों से झलकती इक मिठास है ज़िन्दगी,

सपनों के टूटने पर चुभती वो खटास है ज़िन्दगी,

इक टूटे दिल से निकली बेआवाज़ चीखती तान है ज़िन्दगी,

किसी ने प्यार से बढ़ाये हाथ को थामी वो मुस्कान है ज़िन्दगी।

रात बे रात महफिलों में छलकता जाम है ज़िन्दगी,

सिर्फ अंधेरों में पढ़ा जाये ऐसा पैग़ाम है ज़िन्दगी,

कुछ बंद कमरों और खुलती आँखों के मंज़र है ज़िन्दगी,

हर दम अपना बसेरा बदलती इक मंजिल है ज़िन्दगी,

रात के अंधेरो में नदारद रास्तो पर होती सुनहरी सुबह है ज़िन्दगी ।

कुछ नामी, कुछ बदनाम, कुछ शातिर, कुछ अनजान . .

तरह-तरह के चेहरों के साए में घुलती . . बेनाम है यह ज़िन्दगी,

हर किसी को अपनी निराली तारीफ पेश करती . .

. .वास्तव मे ग़ुमनाम है यह ज़िन्दगी। 

-वि. वि. तलवनेकर

The EVE

           It was a festive time all around, and he had taken her to the local art fest for which she had been waiting for days with a list of things to grab.
           She was wearing a royal blue Salwar with small white polka dots on it. And only a Black ear-rings to round it off. He just put on a Denim Blue Jeans, Polo T and a Titan Edge and he was up and ready. They both were carrying it off quite well looking quite imposing as a couple.
           They walked to the maidaan, she was being very cozy grasping him by his arm and her flaunting hair were cuddling with his right cheek with an occasional breeze. She was so chirpy, full of energy. But obvious! as shopping and arts were her favorite longings. All the while she talked and talked intently and he sipped in each of her word soothingly. As he was well aware that she liked it when someone listened to her expressions and come up with a clever inserts that had always been a turn on for her. So they discussed food, debated over movies and arts. And he was quite ardent when it came to debating as he would always quite wisely put his point that she would have nothing in return but a meek nod.
           Then there was some quiet period as they approached maidaan. He could see her face brighten step by step. It was not just the flood lights but the whole aura from the maidaan seem to have put a spring in her steps, as she was almost dragging him behind her.
           As they walked in under the craftily structured archway they were greeted with host of stalls across the perimeter of maidaan and at the center there was a stage for mythological plays which were to begin late that night, People wearing funny, scary masks had gathered, kids were being amused at a magician showcasing his guile. Painters, sketchers were in a corner with some fragile looking stools arranged in a semicircle around them, maybe they were giving away some easy hand tips and tricks for the enthusiasts. And the whole quarter of the maidaan was accommodated by stalls with variety of clothing of different traditions, glistening ornaments, necklaces etc. Then there was pottery, Literature and a parade of musicians setting up an enchanting ambiance.

She asked him, 'Toh, kahaan se shuru kare?'
'Books' he replied with a grin and pointing towards a stall to the right.

           Then they scanned through every stall. Checked out every single thing, asked him for opinions and finally stood firm on one of them, then bargained for it, with her nonchalant smile. She always won these duals with anyone on any given day.
           He was just like those 'Bhaiyya-ji' standing across selling their stock to the ladies with utmost grace and without uttering a single word just letting her do the talking and choosing but also chipping in between with a little inserts on something. But yes, being with her for shopping, taking her around never bored him. He always looked for a way to give her some time from his 24*7 busy schedule.
           Right then an announcement was being made, "...Kuchh hi palo me pesh hogi khudaa ki kaarigari ki misaal deti daastaan. . "
           As soon as he heard it, he told her about it and started towards the stage to occupy the best possible place with bags full of things in hand. She followed him right behind carrying some of the bags.
           He was mesmarised at the stunning dialects and plush costumes of those actors, and the set so gaily painted. He was looking at their expressive faces with keen interest and admiration.

"isn't she adorable?" He asked with affection pointing to a child artist, and she awwwed in agreement.

           Everyone was so animated in the audience. There were cheers when the king would take the stage and loud sighs when Evils made their mocking laughs, Moments of silence and tension when the princess was running away from the troops of hell and loud claps and whistles when the Prince came for the rescue. 
           People were so engrossed in the play, just when a loud scream broke through the crowd as a lamp fell over a tent setting up a fire and a mild explosion took place as one of the small stove caught fire and people were running helter-skelter not knowing what to do, not sure what actually took place they were just responding to the waves from one end and heading opposite to it.
           He looked around and saw she was not besides him, He felt a sickening chill, he panicked, but quickly caught his calm. He looked around for a high vantage point to search, after spotting a podium he started towards it. He stood atop on it, surfing through the fussing crowd, his eyes numb shouting for her, calling out to her. He became restless by every moment, and he was shaking and sweating.
           It had been about 5-6 minutes and his mind already began to make unpleasant conclusion 'what if she. . ' 'Is she. . ?' and he just couldn't hold himself upright on that podium and just when he was about to collapse in a sob He heard someone screaming to top of their voice and calling out his name. He wiped his tears and looked up with hazy eyes he saw a Blue image approaching and just as she reached him he saw her beautiful face shoving in his chest embracing him with all of her force, kissing him on his cheeks, smiling and crying and again collapsing in his arms till she felt completely soothed.

           On the other end he was just left motionless, his face was pale as if just out of a nightmare, not knowing how to react. He slowly took her out wrapping an arm around her, feeling lucky but in reality there wasn't as much as to concern in their but it hit him like a thunderbolt . . 
. . .and He just stared and stared, going deeper and deeper in her eyes, feeling the warmth of her tears, thinking over what happened and thanking his goodness.
           He visualised that moment over and over again, saw her approaching towards him, melting in his arms, she was feeling so much at peace, feeling homely and safe made him wonder on that eve . . 

'I may not be her Adam, but this most certainly is MY EVE.'

-V. V. Talavanekar.

All that is left now . . is the memory of you

         I tried to hold on to you, just like any other person would, I refused to accept that you were no more around.

         But now the time has winged its magic, now i don't feel the emptiness, I have stopped cursing fate, I have stopped looking back at those events with regret, Now I know, there was nothing I could do, there was nothing you could do, It just happened, And now . . I have moved on.

         And All that is left now is the memory of you. . .

Though I don't see anyone filling that everlasting gap,

I don't see the day when you'll be coming back,

For so long in my heart

. .resided the emptiness so bitter and true,

But everything that has left now is. . .

. . Just the memory of you.

Now I look around in search of somebody just like you,

But who else than me would be knowing?

at there are hardly so few,

I am out of it now. . The Past, Coz I need no more clue. . .

To the fact that,

All that is left now is the Memory of you.

Nowadays whenever I rush past your door,

The meager sight of it would kill me to core,

I would look up to the heavens,

But then. . I would laugh at the view,

Coz all that is left now. .

. . Is the Memory of you.

-V. V. Talavanekar

गर्व नाही, माज आहे मला म्हणून सांगतोय !!

       काही वर्षांपूर्वीची गोष्ट हि.
     मी 6वी 7वीत असेन. हम्म! 7वीतच. कॉलनी मध्ये नवीन नवीन फुटबॉल खेळायला सुरवात झालेली, सर्व मोठ्या मुलांनी पैसे गोळा करून बॉल विकत आणला. मग दररोज संध्याकाळी टाकीवर (आमच्यासाठी ते मैदान होतं, चांगली सव्वाशे मीटर लांब सिमेंट ची टाकी) जमायचं. मग एक-एक करून सगळे महत्वाची अशी (वट वाली) पोरं जमली कि त्यातला सर्वात सिनियर संघ निवडायचा.

       खरतर टीम अशी नव्हतीच, ज्याचं ज्याचाशी चांगलं जुळायचं तो एका बाजूला बाकी सर्व लिंबू टिंबू दुसरया साईडला. मी लहान होतो, पण नाक्यावर पोरांत उठणं-बसणं असायचं म्हणून मला नेहमी चांगल्या टीम मध्ये खेळायला मिळायचं. कच्चा लिंबू म्हणून का होईना, पण मी नेहमी त्याच टीम मध्ये खेळायचो.
ते मला 'बॉल आला कि गोलमध्ये ढकल कसातरी, फाउल करू नको फक्त' अशी ताकीद देऊन समोरच्या टीमच्या गोलपोस्ट च्या शेजारी उभे करायचे 'शो-पीस' म्हणून. पण त्यातही मी फार खुशीत होतो (नेहमी जिंकणाऱ्या संघामध्ये उभं राहायला कोणाला नाही आवडत??).

       एकदा मी उशिरा आलेलो, दोन्ही टीम निवडून झालेल्या, समोरच्या टीम मध्ये एक जागा रिकामी होती.

एकजण बोलला, 'ए त्यांचात जा, आमच्यामध्ये जागा नाहीये.'

       मला फार वाईट वाटलं, full रडकुंडीला आलेलो, पण आता आलोयच तर खेळतो म्हणून त्यांच्यात खेळलो. . पण मज्जाच येत नव्हती काही, बॉल आला कि सोडून द्यावासा वाटायचं.

       रात्र झाली, बॉल दिसायचा बंद झाला तसा खेळ पण बंद झाला. मी तसाच रडवेला चेहरा करून बसलेलो, ते पाहून माझा फार चांगला मित्र वयाने मोठा आहे पण आपण त्याच्या खास पंटर पैकी एक; तो जवळ आला आणि म्हणाला,

'बघ, तोंड बारीक करायचं नाही, नेहमी लक्षात ठेव ज्या टीम साठी खेळशील त्या टीम साठी जीव तोडून खेळायचं, असं खेळायचं कि समोरच्याला पूर्ण कावरा-बावरा करून सोडायचं'

       बास्स आणि मी तेच करत आलो. आजवर जेव्हा जेव्हा मैदानात उतरतो, ते त्याच भावनेने, त्याच जिद्दीने, त्याच निष्ठेने कि आपले प्रयत्न कुठेही कमी पडत नाही ना याची नेहमी खबरदारी बाळगतो. .

आणि आज या सर्व आठवणींना दुजोरा देण्याचे कारण असे कि,

       सध्या एक वाईट. नाही! वाईट नाही, वाईट म्हणण्यापेक्षा किळसवाणी पद्धत निघालीय, फुटा-फुट करण्याची पद्धत निघालीय. प्रत्येक गल्ली-बोळात एक नवा संघ उभा राहतोय, एक नवीन टोळी चालू पडतेय, एका दिशाहीन ध्येयप्राप्तीपोटी!

       एक परंपरागत चालत आलेला संघ असतो, दिवसागणिक त्या संघाचे पंटर वाढत असतात. मग एक नवा शहाणा येतो. त्याला या संघामुळे चार-चौघात स्थान मिळते. पोरं-टोरं त्याच्याकडे आदराने बघू लागतात. नाक्या-नाक्यावर समोरून हात दाखवला जातो. पण हे सगळं कोणामुळे असतं?? तर संघामुळे!!

       आणि तो शहाणा मग दीड-शहाणा होऊन बसतो. स्वतःला संघाच्या वर समजायला लागतो. आणि मग ती जंगलातली जनावरं कसं आपल्या आवाक्यात असणाऱ्या झाडावर मुतून आपलं वर्चस्व जाहीर करू पाहतात, अगदी तस्सच हे दीड-शहाणे चार नवखी पोरं जवळ करतात आणि एक 'टोळी' उभारतात. पण ते हे विसरतात शेवटी जंगलाचा खरा राजा हा एकच, "THE LION KING" तो एकच.

       त्यांना या गोष्टीचा विसर पडलेला असतो कि त्यांची हि नवी टोळीने कितीही व्यापण्याचा प्रयत्न केला तर शेवटी त्यांच्या कृत्याकडे पाहणारे तिला घाण म्हणूनच पाहणार.

       हो, कदाचित त्यांना ते एकीचं, संघभावनेचं, एकनिष्टतेचं बाळकडू मिळालं नसेल, कदाचित त्यांच्या कानावर हे कोणी घातलं नसेल, कदाचित ते अजूनही त्या अर्भकाप्रमाणे असतील ज्याचे डोळे पूर्णतः उघडले नाहीत अथवा त्यांच्या डोळ्यावर तो मानपमानाचा मुलामा चढवला गेला असेल, आणि तसं असेलच तर आत्ताच सांगतो. . म्हणजे पुन्हा कोणाच्या मनात हा पोरकट आणि विकृतीकडे नेणारा विचार येऊ नये म्हणून: लक्षात ठेवा, पाहिजे तर मनात कोरून ठेवा-

"जे मानचिन्ह, जे नाव, तुम्ही तुमच्या छाताडावर मिरवता, ते तुमच्या स्वतःच्या नावापेक्षा कैकपटीने श्रेष्ट असते."

 -वि . वि . तळवणेकर 

Why Do I?? (Part - 3)

            Although that tweet did not go down well with her, she barely flinched. In last few years she was used to his link-ups. and she never seemed bothered at all. She knew he was too awesome to be hers alone. And she had lived with it.
            The next day Newsrooms were full of praise for him. And yess there were those spoof reports (spoof?? she preferred it in that manner only). She subsided all the buzz about it and went to kitchen to prepare dinner.


            He returned by evening that day. She greeted him as if nothing had happened with a hug and placed a kiss on his cheek. He went in got fresh. She was still busy doing the arrangements.
            He was in study room when she called for dinner.
            It was beautiful..!! not only the room or the ambiance but also the arrangements and food dished out on table, the wine at one end. He barely looked up And she walked in.
            He was unmoved, he was flattered. He really was. By her serene beauty, and by seeing what the previous day meant to her. He was deeply touched.
            He got himself seated. She served him the dinner and later joined him in. He was numb by now. He loved it when she cooked for him. He was muted by everything happening around and she had pursed her mouth knowingly. They both ate in silence. Then She poured wine for both of them.
And she rose to toast for his achievement. He smiled and raised his glass.
            The drink broke the ice and he flourished in with memories and stories of last eve. and a few selective ones from past.
            The dinner had gone nicely. She felt the warmth in him after quite a while.
            They both tried to keep the check on everything but spirits had sprinkled its magic. They were being lured into each other. And soon they were entangled as one. They made Love that night. They both lay their for a while staring at nowhere.
            She got up to get washed.
            He lit a cigarette and was staring out the balcony.


            She was drenched now, with emotions that had been concealed deep within. She broke down and let herself out, sobbing heavily.
            He could feel the burn. The burn which was swiftly spreading like a wildfire. He felt gutted at the thoughts of being a cheat.
            By now she was well aware of what must have happened last night after the award ceremony and on many such occasions in past, And he was in no doubt that she was trying to act as if she knew nothing. But she was sure about herself and her devotion towards him.
But what triggered them both was "WHY??"
            She was wondering,
'Why am I lying to myself??' 'Why don't I get raged at, him being a cheat??' 'Why do I still hold on to him even though I know he will again sleep with someone and will come back to her with his chin up??' 'Why do I look out for answers then??"
            At other end he was summoning himself in guilt,
'Why can't I face her?' 'Why does she never gets Angry on me??' 'Why don't she leave me when she knows it all??' 'At the end of the day Why do I go to her?? not anyone of my girlfriends??' 'Why does she make me look frail with so many questions to answer without even uttering a single word'


They Both knew it...!! with a puff of smoke and that falling droplet. . .
            'coz she loved him . .'
            '. . .and coz he loved her'

~*~

-V. V. Talavanekar

Why DO I?? (Part - 2)

            He reached the bend and glanced at rear-view mirror, to catch final glimpses of her. And he sped off.


            It was surprising for her that he went all alone 'cause generally he prefers a company while on long drives. Everything he did amused her that morning.
            She was checking out herself in mirror, thoughts swiftly darting over her past, HIS past and now today the joy HE felt at the news and thinking over it and approving of her own lean and slick body she found herself saying,

"During major course of our living, We all strive for admiration more than anything, don't we?"

and she smiled at it for a moment; then shrugged it in air and got back to work.


            The drive to the hotel must have been hard on him, but he was so engrossed with a blissfulness that he felt no effect of it. He quickly checked into one of his favorite hotel in town and headed straight to the shower.
            As the water started sprinkling down his body, He felt the sudden emptiness. He wasn't happy anymore nor did he felt the sorrows that he had submerged deep within. He could not feel anything, all that remained was an inert soul being washed free of everything.
            Still not knowing what he was up to, he got dressed, looking classy as ever with a Royal blue blazer with a glossy shine to it and boot cut pants with tar-black shoes to announce his arrival. He had arranged for a make-up artist who arrived just in time to make him look like a prince charming of fairies. Ready to steal the show for the night.


            She tried to keep herself busy all day long that day, helping out her 'baai' with small little things, doing of bookshelf, study room and other works. while doing so she also kept a check on the Awards ceremony via Twitter. going through the latest tweets every now and then. Let alone his nerves she was on verge of breaking down if he did not win it. She had thought of all sorts of ways to welcome him. Amid all this she was calm. She seemed assured.


            And here, He was greeted at the event with Journalists waiting with anticipation at the entrance, he didn't give much of the bites on his part. He went straight in, passed his regards and wishes to his well-wishers, he aroused smiles of approval from many around, some shrugged it as if they never noticed. But he certainly was at the focal point of everything. He settled down at his camp opposite to his co-stars.
            The Show had begun and the mood of the night was electrifying. He was looking nervous but was optimistic about himself. because for once he was their more with anticipation than with hope.
The Best Lyricist, The Best Music, The best supporting role. . minutes passed and the it turned more and more tense.
And now came the moment which HE was waiting for. For which he had toiled for so many years. . The moment when those magical words showered upon him, for him. . "THE AWARD FOR THE BEST ACTOR GOES TO . . . "
. . . He sunk into his seat praying.
            And as his name echoed everywhere around him and all over the world wherever the media reached He was elated to a different place. . People cheered and clapped for him. There were handshakes all around and as he rose to his feet the lead lady came across the table and gave a warm hug which did not go unnoticed from the camera lenses. 
            He went up the stage received the trophy and gave a thanksgiving speech and returned with a wide smile on his face which was everlasting.


She went over to her Desktop.
"one new tweet"
@MovieManiac:"He hs done it!! bagging d Best actor award n ri8ly so. . ."
She half-read it and was so filled with emotions as the tears of joy came rolling down her cheeks. .
but it lasted only for a while as another tweet came up with a photo suggesting HIS getting bit cozy wit the Lead-lady and later their exit in same car.
'@MovieManiac: . . . uhhmmmm. .Sumthin's cookin ;) '


. .The tides of her mood shifted ferociously.

To be continued . .

-V. V. Talavanekar

Students . . eh?? ;)

         It was just another day in college. Like everyday, the Summer of Aurangabad was sucking at us. Bored at the sight of blackboard and some over the top technical terms and some mischief at the back made me amuse. And a thought occured, sure there are lots of terms, concepts and definations present about mechanisms, properties; but how about students? There are lots of them, The Backbenchers, The nerds etc. etc. We have all gone through the lists throughout our schooldays and later on in college. I was wondering lets make them 'TECHNICALLY SOUND' What say?? Scroll through it then:

1. Commenter:
A student who exhibits mischievous behavior and is inert to external forces such as punishments, detention or call back home to parents.
This breed is easily spoted, just keep your ears wide open.


2. Relax-Singh:
A student who always sleeps during lectures irrespective of time or location i.e. on 1st bench or last.
If you can hear someone snoring, you are quite close to Relax-Singh.


3. Local Train Type Student (LTTS):
LTTS can be defined as a student who no matter what always is and will always be behind schedule, and enters late in lectures.
Look Up!! Towards the door


4. Dominos type student (DTS):
Be it flood or Thunderstorm DTS will remain on or before time.
Only CCTVs in corridor can spot this rare breed.


5. Laal-Monk:
Laal-Monk is the one who enters the class with hangover.
Abreviation of:
Laal = Red = Red eyed
Monk = Old Monk = Indian Rum.
No need to search, aankhein haal bayaan kar hi dengi. . ;)


6. Toon:
Toon is defined as the one who always acts crazy, full of energy doing silly stuff.
People generally confuse between toon and Laal-Monk, and mistakenly call a 'Laal-Monk' as TOON. . considering TOON (टून) in Hindi which means DRUNK.
They are not that difficult to find, always in spotlight.


7.Eeew - Buddy:
The most annoying of the lot, available on all of the Social Networking sites known to humans. Has no life. Gloats over virtual stuff and friends.
Look for the one wit his gaze fixed on their cellphones.


8.ATUL:
ATUL stands for All the Time Udaas Looking (Let's keep the other fullform to ourselves guys ;p)
No need to spot 'em they will come to you with the most unworthy problems.


9. Razor-Kid:
Can also be called Encylo-pidit. Knows almost everything, and raises hands to every query and has doubts about everything.
The One who constantly shouts "Ma'am Me.!!" "Ma'am Me" 


10. Dhyaanchand:
The one with his brains roaming around playground, and only pays attention [ध्यान] for few [चंद] moments during attendance.
He has to be famous. ;D


Add Some if any come to your mind, it's fun try it in spare time . . :)

-V. V. Talavanekar

Being Sorry. .

           It is always like this. And nowadays has become sort of a habit among all of us.
           Have a look at this for an instance; Carrying a tray with cold-drinks and accidently spilled it on floor, A skinny looking guy from cleaning dept. staring at the floor with despair and out comes the cure; a fragile li'l ' SORRYYY ^_^ '
           What I am trying to say is nowadays we have been talked into this latest slang 'Sab Chalta Hai'. But behind this there are lot of grievances which are incurable by this one little word, 'SORRY'. Every coming day we come across lots of disappointing things, we mourn over it for a while and then forget about it.
           But Have you ever been stung by someone's simplicity? Have you ever stood next to someone with your heart shouting but your mouth zipped? Have you ever felt the sarcasm in someone's selfless love? Have you ever felt the shame? Have you ever felt the guilt?
           If you have, then you will know what I am talking about. You will know it's not easy to express your sorrow in just one little phrase and close it just there. Often do we commit the wrongs and often we say 'I'm sorry' But seldom comes that moment when we said it and we meant it. And in many cases it just remains down there in core, unexplored and untold.

Let's just put it in this way, If there was 'a dictionary of living' then it might read like this:

Sorry

V. ◙◄ (Cannot be pronounced)

Being in one's debt forever and repaying it with LOVE.
"It's a sentence in itself" (☜ pun intended)

-V. V. Talavanekar

The Theatre Of Dreams

It has seen 'em march, It has seen 'em hitting the bump,

It has seen 'em perish, It has seen 'em triumph,

It has seen their heroics,

and It has seen 'em rising from the ashes like a phoenix.

In here,

Seldom we fall behind, Often we come back strong,

They all come at once, They all come criticize,

But time and time again we've Proved 'em wrong,

Its made for Glory, Its made for fans, made up of Chants and wholehearted songs,

The host to the Class of '92, The place where Busby Babes belong,

The land of Sir Bobby Charlton, The Edwards, The Bests, and The Cantonas,

The list is everlasting and is only to grow long,

Its the place where GEMS are nurtured,

the place where they turn into THE PLAYERS,

The place which gives visitors their worst nightmares,

The place which is the witness to epic affairs,

We are United, We are THE REDS,

The back yard of Busby Babes,

The glory here never fades. . . The pride in our hearts never dims,

We call it THE THEATRE OF DREAMS . . .

                                                                                                 -V. V. Talavanekar

Why DO I?? (Part - I)

~PROLOGUE~

For the unresolved chemistry of LOVE. . This is inspired from one amazing couple I forgot their names, where they came from even their faces I cannot recall. . All I recollect is that, to many there was nothing left between them, but after knowing them I came to know, somewhere the strings remain forever. . !!

And you will remain forever in my heart. . as an inspiration!!

~*~

              He was quietly having his breakfast, simultaneously had his eyes glued to PAGE 3. It was a big day for him, and she was well aware of it. She made sure everything was at its place, no Bad omen should ruin the day for him. She was nervous. Nervous about his moodiness and it showed when she shakily poured black coffee in his mug with a single sugar cube (just what he preferred when he meant Business).

              He placed the paper aside, oozing with arrogance or confidence (she couldn't guess) he met her eyes and smiled. It was amazing she would wonder after so many years of togetherness how can he make her feel there's a stranger sitting across the table? - She would just return the smile.

              He saw the puzzled look on her face and announced, 'The Goddamn twats have stated its going to be a roll-over tonight, I already have it in my bag . . THE AWARD you see . . !! I would again be at the top of the pile, and this world accepts my triumph.'

              He was ecstatic at the news, For all these years the ones who always made a mickey out of him were appreciating him, not just appreciating but putting all the odds on him, for his latest venture on silver-screen.

              And she was full of joy at his long lost cheerful face, He was blooming with pride in his eyes and perfectly white smile to match with his rough look, HANDSOME. She was so lost in him she forgot to reply.

              She could see him ruffle at her awed look, He wanted her to celebrate . !!! Celebrate for his half won battle and his hard earned prize.

On the other hand she had already received one- HER smiling Handsome looking Husband.

              "You deserve all of it", she said.

              He just sat there. Chin Up.

              ". . . " and she blanked out, all she managed was a smile.

              He got up to leave. Called in the driver and asked him to park his beloved Merc W123-300D at the door and ordered him to take a day off. He dutifully obeyed.

              She stood their waiting for him to turn, to kiss him goodbye.

              But he just picked up his belongings and started towards the door.

              Then something clicked in her mind. In a moment, she walked up to him and asked if he had a minute. He nodded. She rushed towards the kitchen brought the thaali of arti and quickly went with the rituals and knowingly he smiled at her with all his heart.

              "See you !!" He said and turned towards his Jet Black Merc.

              "All the best" she said almost mechanically. 

              He turned the keys. The engine vroomed. He waved Goodbye towards his wife. .

              Now she couldn't resist, she yelled with passion in her voice and glassy eyes "Take care and All the B. . . "

              But he was Gone. And she stood there alone and still. Till the black dot eclipsed around the bend.

To be Continued. . 

- V. V. Talavanekar