City of Peace by Brij kaul

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City of Peace

 

Pune

city of peace and promises

people of large hearts

overflowing with milk

of human kindness

A

 city  agog with lively crowds

young springing youths,

giggling frolicking ones

exhibiting libido, elegance of

dress, design fashion

with

aspirations dreams   desires

of touching skies .

Old citizens on early walking tours

dangling staffs while sprinting

for awhile at a leisure

to their great pleasure.

A

city of love and liberty

with no rancor or remorse

towards one and all

The enthralling environs

with green spectacle all over

distant rolling hills beckoning

one and all into its bracing breezy

embrace.

the

breeze a lilting soothing one

but

sensuous intoxicating caressing

the mind and body for a

yearning longing to merge

                                                               in its eternal beauty.

WHY NEHRU CANNOT BE FORGOTTEN ___ by Brijkaul

For any Indian brought up in Nehrus’s India it is hard to imagine, believe anything other than a democracy.

JAWAHARLALNEHRU was composite personality of erudition, rationality, diversity, humanity and above all a true liberal democrat.

India’s first PM was his own vocal critic .That served democracy well and became his guide line to keep check over executive power being more than just constitutional .

Under the pseudonym of Chanakya he wrote in Mdern Review “ A little twist and Jawahar lal might turn a dictator sweeping aside the paraphernalia of a slow moving democracy. He might still use the language and slogan of democracy and socialism, but we all know how fascism has fattened on this language and then cast it away as useless lumber”

Indian Republic was fortunate in its teething years of 17years to be steered by non other than Nehru , a great man immensely honest and dedicated to the cause of building a strong India , thus winning the faith of countless Indians despite facing a relentless campaign against him for not being culturally rooted so on and so forth.

It was his this typical ability to deliberate on his own shortcomings that stood him in good stead to lead the young Indian democracy to great heights.

The greatness and popularity of Pt Jawahar lal Nehru was insurmountable in Indandacross the world., hence could not be gauged by any gadget and it is beyond the comprehension of the present generation to fathom the veracity ,magnanimity of his greatness, compassion and love for the nation.

Though JAWAHAR LAL NEHRU being strong liberal nationalist was a rationalist as well.

His agile mind’s spiritual quest was strong and he was quite adept in the philosophy of the Vedanta.

He wrote “ I can appreciate to some extent the conception of monism ,and I have been attracted towards the advaita (non- dualist)philosophy. The diversity and fullness of nature stir me and produce harmony of the spirit, and I can imagine feeling myself at home in the old Indian pantheist atmosphere.”

He abhorred the superstitious and dogmatic beliefs. he believed in ethical approach rather than demonstrating some  particular doctrines.

With his scientific temper and progressive thoughts he  ushered India into technological era  rather than seeping in completely in the tradition. He blended modernism into dynamism of taditions and thus pulled off  successfully  all  the sectors of society towards progress and prosperity.

Along with the institutes of technological and nuclear energy he created autonomous institutes of drama ,fine arts, music films . He set up space launching center ISRO currently making voyages into space and onto the other planets like Moon and Mars.

currently with the inputs from the Govt and people India is really on the march towards being one of the top Nations in the world.

Conclusion

Now on his 130th birth anniversary, children’s day we need Nehru’s teachings of brotherhood, unity to propel India towards prosperity progress and overcome the fissiparous tendencies to break away from the idea of inclusive India.

JAWAHARLAL “the jewel of India” as Mahatma Gandhi called him did not disappoint either Gandhiji or the people of this great Nation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PUNE THE CITY OF DREAMS by BrijKaul

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Pune  The most liveable city.

On the clear October afternoon day 2019, I visited a small hillock on the side of Parvati in Pune for spending an hour or so in peace and tranquility.

This is the place one can have an overview of almost entire city swathed in greenery of monsoon rains.

Below me the city with its criss -cross bazaars, blaring horns, the grisly roads with open drainage culminating towards swollen rivers, looked a sprawling one. The skyline has assumed alarming proportions.

The city looked gorgeously green .

I could see one more distant range of hills followed by a stretch of plains, a fascinating view.

The clouds started gathering and the sky was overcast .

A loud growling followed by a lightening , instantly it began to rain, a cold steel rain.

I took to my heels literally and did not give hoots to the beautiful surroundings, but hurried to get on to main road and continued to walk on looking for a cover to avoid being drenched in the awful spattering rains. The chaotic traffic of cars, two wheelers ,where every vehicle was trying to overtake the other ,the honking of horns plunging the street into deafening noise center much to the displeasure of pedestrians.

Among the generality of Indian males ,I am medium sized—five feet five ,very wide of shoulder and eventually because of my size I could take brisk strides and run in between the thickly rains for getting on to take refuge under a cover.

I did manage to stand in the corner of a sweet shop. There was a sizable crowd already, a couple making way for me with a wry smile. Puneites are friendly people and very conciliatory especially to senior citizens.

The rains continued pouring down and did not seem to abate at all.

Recently Pune had rains without any warning and the city almost got drowned with hundreds of vehicles being carried away in the fierce rains and the winds that was not less than any hurricane.

I watched the dripping trees and the clouds coming down over the distant valley giving it a hazy look all around.

As I was standing waiting for rains to stop,I heard someone calling me not far away “ kaul sahib, kaul sahib here I am Prasad”

I saw a tall hefty man coming towards me and standing face to face, I stared at him with a glimmer of remembrance in my eyes ,I recognized him instantly. “ hello Prasad how are you here.” I asked, little puzzled. He was carrying an umberalla big enough to take me underneath.

we walked into a nearby restaurant for a strong sweet tea with hot Kachoris.

“ So Prasad tell me what are you doing now.”I said with a beaming smile. “ ah! cannot believe seeing you after 35 years.it is amazing unbelievable” I continued startled .

“Me too “ Prasad replied with a guffaw.

Prasad was my head inspector in Jg glass factory long back in 1970’S, good at job and a great singer. He was handsome tall with wrestler’s body having six pack muscles, very affable in nature, a pleasant lively smile lit up his face all the time.

I being the head of quality department, he was very obedient and respectful subordinate.

we had a long conversation over a few steaming cups of teas.

“ I could educate my only son to be an engineer and he has become GM of an MNC from Germany, kaul sir” he declared with some sense of pride.

“ you can call me kaul only ,no need to say sir Mr Prasad. you are my friend and one time colleague’ I corrected him

“ no kaul sahib you are my sir all the time. It was your constant drumming that motivated me to educate my son Ravinder.” He said apologetically.

“ do you still sing? “

“ yes I do “

“can you sing that Rajesh khanna song” I asked

and he started singing in his profoundly melodous voice.

“ Tum ne kaajal lagaya Din mein Raat ho gayi chup gaye Tare nazare oye kya baat ho gayi .”

The other guests turned their heads to listen him and cheered him for his singing the Bolly -wood block buster of yesteryears.

As Prasad emerged a singing celebrity in the small crowd ,engrossed in the new found fame,  I went into a reverie to ramble through my memories about my first encounter with bright and beautiful Pune.

I walked into Pune ,the city of my dreams, ‘Pensioner’s Paradise’ , ‘the queen of Deccan’ as popularly called those days, on 21st june 1961 to look after my ailing sister shanta whom I called fondly Bengashi. 

My father had coaxed and cajoled me to take the vexed long trip to assist my brother in law Raj nath Wakhaloo ,who had moved into the city in 1959 on Govt of India assignment in Post and Telegraph Pune division. Raj nath ji popularly known as Wakhaloo Sahib, a typical Kashmiri Brahmin, tall handsome ,with chiselled features a long straight nose , dimpled chin ,liked the city and its people , its mild climate and hilly topography .

My brother in law, JEEJAJI, was waiting for me in the pleasant morning at the Pune station.

I walked the platform and hugged him ,thanking him profusely for coming to greet me in the early morning.

We went to home ,a small low ceiling ill ventilated one room rented apartment in Soomwar-peth in the city. His office was at a stone’s throw from the residence hence the choice of hiring that apartment.

After dropping my luggage, and having a hurried brief breakfast ,we drove down to the Dr Karve Clinic at the foothills of Parvati ,where my sister Bengashi was admitted. My sister was glad to see me and hugged me intensely, the tears flowing down her cheeks profusely.

she was having clot on the lower leg and being under treatment of DR KARVE, one of the best doctors of Pune at that time.

I was supposed to look after my sister as my brother in law J e e j a j i was attending office.

I successfully completed my assignment to my best ability, looking after my beloved sister with ease and comfort. Went to Kashmir back after nearly two months.

At that time I could have n e v e r imagined Pune would be my permanent home town some day.

As providence would have it I got my first job in Pune as management trainee way back in 1970 in a glass container manufacturing unit after great efforts and started liking to live in Pune.

My sister’s prayers worked for my settlement .

I lived in Meera Society near Shanker Seth road, a new decent colony with built in spacious apartments of most advanced building technology.

Here I struck acquaintance with Mr Pran Tickoo working as a senior engineer in Tata Locomative engineering company . We soon became great pals and spent lot of good time together ,mostly enjoying ‘Boti kababs’, ‘tandoori chicken’ and many niceties at Dipen’s barbaquee run by an affable Punjabi couple close to Petrol pump on Shanker Seth road. Pran  Tickooji had flair for attending to social activities and displayed leadership qualities and enjoyed doing so very much. Currently associated with many such social platforms  contributing his mite to the good of society. 

Pune city was very alluring beautiful with almost no traffic and big broad roads ,having hilly background with trees all along the routes making beautiful long avenues to look at.

It had shades of my Srinagar city ,with Parvati hill standing in the heart of city like Hari Parbat of Srinagar city. The pleasant weather was one more similarity to my Kashmir.

Pune is the second largest city in Maharashtra after Mumbai, with nearly 5.05 miliion population currently. Situated 1840 feet above sea level on the Deccan plateau on the right bank of Mutha river.

Pune has profound no of Nicknames ‘ Oxford of East’ ‘ Queen of Deccan ‘ so on and so forth

with its cool sizzling climate, vibrant greens adding tantalizing serenity to the Nature, Pune stands out a thriving city to live in .

Pune is always young with its young student population, and is nerve center of arts crafts ,offering opportunities for jobs, research and has been a commercial hub for many industries.

 

I woke up from my reverie and called for Prasad ,who seemed completely absorbed and enjoying the new found popularity.

“shall we make a move now” I blurted out to Prasad .

“yes sir yes sir” he replied briefly.

The rains had stopped and I looked for an auto rickshaw to take me to my residence in Bibwewadi.

Prasad called for one and I squeezed in and it zoomed away without allowing me even to say goodbye, with a foreboding of having seen Prasad for the last time.

 

MY STORY Journey of challenges Part 3(Continued). by BrijKaul

 

In the quest of better future my work carried me from one challenge to another.

In Corporate career one needs to be upright in latest knowledge about your area of expertise day in and day out, as the innovations are flowing and not static ones. The management expects one to be productive in providing solutions not only to problems at hand but to tide over the unforeseen situations out of one’s bond as well.

If you fail to rise to the occasion your future is in jeopardy.

It was early February morning in 1980 I was being driven in company car from my residence, in Rishikesh Town to the Glass factory(BILT GLASS) in Virbhadra ,a distance of about 6 kms over the green hill slope .

The drive, a small one ,but quite picturesque with green hilly pastures all along the route.

The sun light was falling on to the trees lining the slopes ,the trees gobbled the light before scattering it down on to the car window panes , I squinching my eyes shut, reopening again when away from the splattering sun rays.

The driver finally honked the horn at the factory gate and it opened ajar allowing me to get down before parking the car at the right place.

“ good —- good morning sir” a few workers said as I strolled on the tarmac road leading to the production hall.

I continued my walk into the hall to my cabin in the farthest corner of the Inspection lines.

The view of machines was clear and the gobs of glass falling speedily on to the formation moulds presented a spectacular view of manufacturing. The hot glinting bottles were travelling on the belt in a sequence one after another without falling off the corners. A perfect co-ordination in place to watch and admire.

As I settled down in my chair in my not so tidy cabin ,bottle samples strewn everywhere ,I cleared my table of the knick knacks and looked at the daily production report with a sense of satisfaction ,the rejection percentage staggering between 8 to 10 percent on all m/cs.

“Good Morning sir” G S Rawat my assistant quality control officer said extending his hand for a handshake ,I held his hand saying “very Good Morning dear Rawatji”.

He briefed me about the quality reports of the night shift and apprised me for the quality clearance of the liquor bottles’ consignments on urgent basis to the dispatch section.

 Tackling the quality Issues.

 Tring tring   tring —the telephone rang ,I picked up the receiver , “hello Good Morning sir” I blurted out .

“ Good morning Kaul sahib .will you come in my cabin for important meeting” . Mr Gupta sahib spoke hurriedly from the other end. I hung up the telephone and left the cabin to meet Mr S.C. Guptaji , our revered works Manager . Guptaji was highly qualified engineer ,experienced in the container glass manufacturing I.S.machines . He was very soft spoken but supportive and knew his job well. It was a great honour to work with him.

“ There is serious complaint in Rooh Afza bottles. you will have to go to Ghaziabad to find out the problem . We have supplied around ten lakh bottles and you need to study the problem while observing their filing line.” Mr Gupta Sahib said nonchalantly .

“Let us see the GM MR Bushan “ he continued.

Guptaji and myself had discussion with Mr Bushan GM. “kaulji the stakes are high .we have further order of 50 lakh for these bottles ,in case we fail to address the issue satisfactorily, we all will have to face an awkward situation leaving aside huge financial loss to the company.. So kindly do your best.” Mr Bushan emphasized upon the gravity of the matter.

“ With your and God’s grace I will do my utmost to resolve the issue amicably .” I replied with an air of finality.

“ Mr kaul go to H.O and meet Marketing head Mr CPSharmaji and then proceed to the plant in Ghaziabad. Donot go without meeting him.” Mr Bushan said cooly.

Meanwhile I asked my assistant G.S.Rawat to take up a large sample at random from different lots mouldwise of the particular stocked production and make a report for the following quality parameters

  1.  Cracks /Neck /Body 2. perpendicularity.3. wall thickness variations. 4 wt, capacity and 5 Neck dimensions .

Rawatji was quick to make a detailed report and it gave me an idea of the quality of the product under complaint. The report was well within norms . A simple guide line to main action plan.

Taking leave of Gupta Sahib, promising to give daily reports on phone ,I accordingly proceeded to Delhi to attend to the aggrieved customer in Sahibabad industrial area.

The journey from Rishikesh to Delhi was not an easy one but dreary long one to be completed in about six hours taking recourse at intervals to roadside stands selling tea, coffee ,snacks, squash juice and at wayside restaurants for food rest and easing oneself in the wash rooms adequately maintained.

The Cheetal Restauarant with large accommodation ,scalloped counters with huge leather stools was the best wayside one for eating a sumptuous meal dinner or lunch .

A coffee venting m/c in the corner ,the hot black fluid pouring down and when stopped, a squirt of milk coming down with sugar cubes beside the cup. A real treat to watch and enjoy the hot cup.

Such centers for food rest were maintained beautifully with lawns and flowers. At the front near the gates were huge parking places for vehicles to be lined up . we parked ours and straightway walked into the main hall.

I had a hurried dinner in the most delighted place, with Bollywood background music.

The night was dark but pleasant enough to lull oneself to a sweet slumber. The cab driver drove past the heavy loaded trucks that moved on the roads; suddenly there was rain and it rained incessantly ,the rain drummed on the roof of the car and wind-shields wipers moved rapidly allowing the driver to see through the   large hazy window pan.

we reached Delhi early morning and made straight to the Bilt H.O on Janpath Cannaught place.

Mr C.P.Sharma GM Glass Marketing was in his usual affable spirits.

“Kaul sahib ,kindly see the complaint is resolved.

Mr Bhalla will come with you but you need to manage on your own as he is going to see other customers for more urgent work.” Mr Sharma said briefly.

“ No issue Sharmaji , I will manage if he is too busy.” I snapped

I started to move but Sharma ji asked me to have some tea and snacks. However I managed to take leave of Sharmaji finally.

At   ROOH AFZA Plant Ghaziabad I and Mr Bhalla met the GM ,a bearded hefty man in his fiftees ,welcomed us in a very friendly manner “Hello Mr Bhalla pleased to met you .” The gentleman said without moving from his chair. “ we have some problems with your consignments. as conveyed to you already kindly look into the same .” he pleaded. He called for his engineer , and asked us to interact with him .

“ Hello Mr Kaul , do you remember me Javed Akhtar ”   the gentleman said extending his hand towards me “ yes I think we have met somewhere.” I replied briefly.

“ way back in 1976 in Mohan Meakin Breweries Solan” He elaborated.

‘ Yes got it you are Javed ,oh ,I see ,how come to be here” I enquired

“ I am working here as Maintenance engineer now. You are from Kashmir kaul sir” He continued, pointing to Mr Bhalla.

“Kaul sir is an expert in glass line I learnt a lot from him”

Mr bhalla nodded in assent.

After discussions it was decided I should stay back to study the problem at the trial run .

Mr Bhalla took my leave and I went to the plant to run ROOH AFZA bottles.

I judged that the main conveyor belt was not in tune with the speed of the filing m/cs and some of the bottles wobbled especially around every turn table and thus fell off the corners giving huge breakages.

I requested Mr Javed to adjust the speed to reduce wobbling and thus salvage the breakage of bottles. Meanwhile I got the turn table revolutions synchronized to the movement of the bottles.

Javed was quick to understand the problem and put his junior engineer on the job.

Soon after these adjustments the breakages were considerably reduced and I could envisage a definite possibility of resolution of the issue.

Now the second issue was to enhance the production to the required level of packing 60,000 bottles per day. we checked with the current speed and improved situation nearly 50,000 bottles could be packed. The m/c speed was to be increased by nearly five to eight bottles per/minute in order to reach the required level of production taking a negligible breakage into consideration.

Javed promised that he would increase the speed after making requested maintenance work of both filing m/cs as well as conveyor belts .

Next day we started fresh with much improved conditions sought after seeking maintenance of the equipment . The filing m/c speeds were enhanced to be in tune with adjustant conveyor belts .It worked wonders for the bottle line , rarely a stray bottle now wobbled and broke off the corner.

At the end of the day Javed informed me that production has been packed to optimum level with almost no breakage.

I conveyed to Works Manager Mr .Guptaji about two days results. He was glad to hear that bottles were being filled problem free and the issue largely resolved.

I told him that we could think of having knurling on the bottom of the bottles to give stability and thus avoid wobbling completely. Mr Guptaji agreed not only to make some changes like one I suggested but also made some design changes in the blanks for better durability to the ware.

Mr S.GUPTAJI was brilliant in engineering innovations of glass container Industry, thus Bilt Glass had double whammy advantage to their competitors in terms of technical superiority..

Needless to say not only the current stock was consumed during my stay at the plant but our Marketing people managed to get repeat orders as well.

THE CLOUDS by brij kaul

 

Before keeping her feet on the floor

Mohini

went through her typical morning

pandiculation process of yawning

In

a stately gait barefeet walking

across the long corridor

peeking through the window

The fluffy dark dank clouds loomed across

limitless sky

grumbling   growling   threatening

season’s first rainfall

in moment of minutes

it

rained heavily, a torrential downpour

quenching thirst of the parched earth

with

 full gaiety gusto  and mirth

Mohini joins the dancing group

of

men women children boys girls

old young infirm healthy

the incessant rains slithering down

fleshy bosoms and soggy countours

swaying hips and swinging bodies

to the rhythm of spattering waters.

The rolling clouds engulfing the lagoons

Mohini

swirling singing lapping up to

entrancing

nature cooling off her torrid

sensuality.

.

THE BEAUTIFUL DREAM by BRIJKAUL

In the beautiful dream

I found her sitting on the edge of a

stream

with bare feet dipping down

into running placid waters

unmindful

of anything that matters

around

countenance lovely and fair

looking soulful and dear

I stealthily amble on and on

and once close by I whisper

‘hello my angel’

startled out of a reverie

she

fumbles ‘oh ; you made me scare’

‘never mind my dear

love you I swear’

her stunning looks

shook

my mind and the maze of sensuous

thought

drowned me deep into the fathom of her

heart

holding my head in her hands she rained

down kisses on my glowing visage

 I

gleefully responding cooing mingling

the melody of love making.

On

waking up I saw her

fast sleeping besides me

with that blissful

beauty.

THE MOUNTAINOUS LASS BY BRIJ KAUL

The mountainous lass

             tumbled down from nowhere

                   with fragile frame and radiant face

           attired in dazzling bright

could

be spotted even in starless

night

 Cupid played its game of midsummer’s

love

I fell for her sensual style

for a while.

 I live by love

just only love

love and love

 love

pervades my mind body

 The sun sliding down hills

ripple of gold and azure

streaks in the waters flowing

by the side of creek.

The moutainous lass

playing hide and seek

crossing the wooden bridge

hid somewhere behind the ridge.

cautiously

I crawl to pounce bounce

upon to frighten her

 

Alas

she was seen no where

trudging along for miles or so

feet swollen soggy sore

could not trace her anymore

Her angel bewitching looks

her coquettish winks

flirtatious smiles

flashed before my eyes

I bemoan looking

up in the skies

 understandably

Cupid playing prank upon me

 I ambled back to my

solitude.

 I live by love

just only love

love and love