MY INDIAN AIRLINES MEMORIES

The letter arrived at my friend, Anjana Sunderason's house. We had both applied from her house after seeing an advertisement in the Femina magazine. By this time I had already applied to study medicine at the Poona Medical College. My father tested me by saying that I would be posted for five years at the border. I was ready to go through that because I was intent in doing research. I wanted to do research on a woman's periodic menstrual problem and on Parkinson's disease.


BANGLADESH WAR - 1971 - I had to withdrew the following piece from my facebook post because some people got enraged and commented adversely on my post. I wrote on my timeline, my personal space but some public did not understand a personal reaction.

1971 Bangladesh war. Indira Gandhi gifts 2 Fokker Friendship air crafts to newly formed  Bangladesh. I was working for Indian Airlines. Some Bangladeshi pilots were being brought to India for further training. I was in such a flight when 2 men were on board from Bangladesh. Two prospective pilots to be trained in India to captain the Fokker Friendship aircraft. After the usual service was over, I was in the galley putting away things to prepare for landing and my co-hostess was clearing the cabin. In walks this gentleman (presumably) and makes a comment so atrocious that I go bloody red and purple. The gist of it is this that since I was working as an air hostess I was available! He was so sure of himself that he did not dream of anything opposing his proposal. He was some Rehman. I was blessed too young to handle such a situation and just ran to the cockpit crying. The co-pilot of my flight went out to make this new neighbour aware about some rules and cultural values of India, I guess. Things were calmer till we landed. It is an indelible experience in my life. After that I have been to Dacca on several flights but I never was interested to know the country. I still hold the same viewpoint. Forgive me if I hurt anyone's feelings.

12/3/2019
Initially most of my flights were early in the morning. That means I could hear the chug-chug of the Indian Airlines ambassador car turning from the Lansdowne Road towards my home at around 4/30 am. That meant I got up at 3.30 am, got ready, painted myself and was ready to go for my duty. My mom and dad always got up with me and would have a cup of tea and biscuits for me to have before I departed. So be it. Parents are like that, isn't it?
Well, one morning, as usual I got into the car next to the driver in the front seat I glanced at the back. There were already three of the flight crew seated - two pilots and a flight attendant or air hostess or steward. I preferred sitting next to the driver in the front and by now most of the crew knew this. So as I was usually the last to be picked and the first to be dropped, this place was more or less mine. Hehehe! 

On the way to the airport one of the pilots asked me what was my full name. I was known as C.Deb in the airlines. I answered my first name was Chitralekha .  The pilot asking me turned out to be the son of the author, Bhagwati Charan Verma, who had written the famous novel in Hindi named 'Chitralekha'. It was also made into a movie - twice. The above is an image of the film and its cast - Meena Kumari, Pradeep Kumar and Ashok Kumar. I still remember the pilot was C.P.S Verma. I was flattered and honoured like a silly teenager. Blushing red, purple and God knows what other colours. 
I suddenly remembered this incident as I was listening to old songs on FM Gold and they played one of the songs from this film. 
I wonder whether Captain Verma is still around. Hope he gets to read this or hear about this post of mine. Thank you, Captain. It was a morale booster for the day. Silly, I know. But then what can you tell a too young girl/air hostess? 

GOD GIVES BACK A THOUSAND-FOLD

20/7/2018

I just remembered something from the past, something that may seem very trivial but I realised of great value.

This was sometime in '89. I was supposed to fly off to Leh in Ladakh from Delhi. The flights got cancelled two days consecutively due to bad weather and then on the third morning my employers sent me to the Srinagar resort and from there to take a chance once more. Well there I was in our company boathouse waiting for the weather to clear and I met a young girl here. She was also an employee and her most important job was to take those guests who booked for treks, on a trans-himalayan trek from Kashmir to Ladakh, a seventeen-day trek. Whew! I was still stuck in Srinagar the day she was leaving with her troup. I had nothing to give her as a parting gift except the biggest size Cadburys chocolate, which I had purchased the evening before. She loved it and as most of us know chocolates are very important when on such treks. 

The weather cleared a couple of days later and I flew off to my destination to look after the Leh resort. I got busy with my work. I loved it. The guests came here for 3 days and then flew off to other resorts in Pahalgam or bandhavgarh or Nepal. So there was a constant arrival and departure, and I also got busy helping the arrivals to acclimatise etc. In this melee there were three ladies from East Germany. I got to know them a little better than the rest. May be they too felt at ease with me, so we got talking. I learned they were potato farmers from East Germany. This was before the 'Berlin wall fall'. All of them had families back home but had saved to make this 'ladies only' trip. In one of our conversations, speaking about families I mentioned my eldest son was not exactly normal and that he could not study like my other normal kids. These ladies got concerned and shared some facts about how they had facilities in their country for such children. they gave me some of their leaflets and promised to send me more details once they reached home.  And they gave me a huge home-made fudge the day they left!!!! Oh me! It was so delicious, full of all sorts of nuts and whatnot! It seems the ladies carried some of these home-made fudge with them, just in case they ran short of food during their travel.  God gave me so much in return for the little unselfish parting gift I did in Srinagar! God is great. I shared it with my colleagues and it lasted for days - it was so big!

One other thing is that in those days East Germany had government facilities for differently abled children.  And yes the ladies did send me more details and other educational tips by post. The tips helped me immensely. Thank you, dear ladies from East Germany.

CANCER -2

22/02/2018

I came back from AIIMS. Honestly I am so mortified with the invasive checks the doctors do. It is humiliating. I know the medics mean well but I screamed today when the invasion was into my a..e!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry doctor it was just so much and no more.  Please God I just wish to live normally and laugh and drink and eat to glory come. Is it possible in this world of yours? And I am so sick of the high expenses that goes with this ailment. Why? Why go beyond your means just to treat a cancer patient, who is sure to pop off in a few days time? Why stretch and do the impossible and deny the patient some good times with the family and friends? Am i wrong in my thinking? I am so tired of the children reminding me I have cancer and I should not eat or enjoy anything because it might aggravate the condition. Hell with it! I have known through my experience that it is best to be in a joyous mood. There is no better medicine than joy. Look at all the 'laughing clubs' spread throughout the country. we all seek joy and that keeps us healthy, wealthy and wise. So long this joy does not in any way harm or bring injury to another human being.

20/7/2018
Today I want to tell all of you who are reading my blogs - please pay attention. If you are suffering from any sort of cancer or know anyone who has cancer, the following routine must be adhered to - 
1. Drink a glass/tumbler of hot water with a full lemon squeezed in with the lemon rinds in it, first thing in the morning. 
2. Do not touch sugar or sweets of any kind. Do not eat mangoes and bananas, but have other fruits, especially citric.
3. Have apricots and more importantly the nut inside its kernel. Yes you need to crack open the kernel. That nut is your medicine. 
4. Cow urine (Go-mutra)is another must. Either get the liquid form or the tablet form. The liquid form must be had like this - two caps full of Go-mutra and equal amount of hot water. And tablets like two each time. Twice in a day before lunch and dinner. Continue for a couple of months and then give it a gap for a fortnight. 
5. Drink only green tea. Twice day or more.
6. Milk and other dairy products do more harm than good. 
7. Deep breathing, inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide with gusto is another must.
8. Be out in the sun and rain, look up to the sky, watch the birds, listen to the breeze, love the swaying trees. Be happy. Be joyous. 

If anyone has anything to add this please do so, I shall be grateful.
And yes, try and keep a regular profile of yourself. I am doing so. I am having my photo snapped (I do not have selfie) at certain intervals to see the change in me, if any. A photographic comparison gives you a solid boost. Rest is up to our Maker. My wish is to go laughing. 
Thank you.

4/1/2019
Happy New Year!
Today I will share a Sanskrit mantra that cures cancer. Open the site and let the mantra be chanted. Listen with total attention. Pronounce along with the chanting if you can or else just pay attention. Soon you should be able to pronounce the mantra. Here is the website - Narayaneem Dasakam 8, Sloka 13, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_fPEQ4Wu3U

Another mantra is - OM SWAMI VIRAM BABABHASSA HUM PHAT

Good luck.

Mamoni, Ghosh and Bose households - memories. 2

Today it will be a short one.
Mamoni used to sing this song quite often - Chorono dhorite diyogo amaare, Niyona niyona shoraye.
I do not know what impression she left in me but I still feel her presence even today.
She was a loving person.
Mamoni used to sing along with her wrestling(yes wrestling). Talk about that later.
Today is her birth centenary, and her father's death anniversary.
Mamoni stopped singing when Ashok, my ex and late husband was due to be presented to the world. The singing puts a stress on the abdomen and the child may be delivered before her/his due date. 
I do not think Mamoni touched her harmonium after that. Dwarkin harmonium.
But she sang. Sang to put the grandchildren to sleep. Or at other times to keep her equilibrium.
That lady went through a lot. Can't ever spill out to anyone. Ava Rani Bose, eldest daughter of Byamacharya Bishnu Charan Ghosh, was unique.
I come from a family where everyone reach the height of education. But Mamoni had just done her eight standard education but her knowledge and wisdom could surpass anyone, even today.
Hats off to Ava Rani Bose, my ex and late mother-in-law. God bless your soul. Love you.

Mamoni, Ghosh and Bose households - memories.

22 June 2018

Mamoni is in extreme left, next to Buddha Bose aka Baba aka Guruji. Nanima is next to Buddha Bose. Then comes Byamacharya Bishnu Charan Ghosh aka Dadai, next to him is Arun Bose, Ashok Bose and Biswanath Ghosh. Sitting below is Karuna Ghosh and Rooma Bose.

Before I proceed I must apologise to Mamoni for losing the one photograph of hers I possessed. It was a big framed one. She was in a sari sitting and smiling her beautiful smile. I searched here in the house but could not find it. My life has not been exactly a stationary life and roaming from place to place I lost quite a few priceless stuff of my parents' too. 

Getting married to Ashok Bose was getting married to the whole family living in 4/2 Rammohan Roy Road, Calcutta -9. And I loved it. Honestly, I loved Nanima's (Ashalata Ghosh) praise and tender love. She shared many moments of her married life to make me understand how a woman adjusts in her married life. Ashok was not exactly the usual husband - 'husband'? No way! But this is about the whole family so I shall desist talking specifically about Ashok Bose. 
Mamoni - Ava Rani Bose nee Ghosh, eldest daughter of Byamacharya Bishnu Charan Ghosh. She was my mother-in-law. Sounds serious? Hahaha! She was a fun loving lady with grits. When I met her she was into wearing ochre coloured top and a skirt - she had become a self induced sanyasini and lived with us on the 2nd floor of the address, while Baba aka Buddha Bose stayed on the first floor inside the office room. That office room has been decked and coloured now and is used by Prem Sundar Das.

Betel nuts or supari and betel nut cutter or jnati (j pronounced in a nasal sound). 

Mamoni loved paan. She would have it definitely after meals and sometimes at other times, too. She had a big metallic box which had small quarters to keep the betel nuts, 'choon', 'khoir', 'dokta', big elaichi seeds. she also had a big silver jati to cut the betel nuts into small bite-able pieces. I learned how to do it. She would first take a half betel leaf, apply choon and then khoir and then sprinkle with tiny pieces of betel nuts and elaichi seeds. Oh did I forget mauri or saunf - fennel seeds in English! Mamoni would be in a very cheerful mood whenever she had this magic box near her or when she was about to savour the first bite of her handmade paan. Yes I too got to have it sometimes. And Mamoni would invariably give a small bite to Surya Shekhar Bose/Bablan or Chandra shekhar Bose/Bhumba before she put the green savoury into her mouth. That way she had the kids in her grasp and could cuddle and smother them with kisses. You see Mamoni sat in one place. Movement for her was confined to shifting her posture, sitting up or lying down on the floor on her huge bolster pillow. Yes she could get up painfully, go to the attached bathroom or sit at the dining table, especially, at meal times. But she could not run after the toddlers and catch them to hug them. Paan was an allurement to bring the little ones close to her and the other way to bring them close was when the television would be on. 

Mamoni used to drive a car like this in Calcutta - one of the few women drivers in the city in those days. She used to drop her sons and brother to their school and fetch them back. Ashok's friend, Arup Mukherjee, told me - ' I found her to be a very loving mother. She drove them (the boys) to school everyday and picked them after school.'
Once Mamoni related an incident involving this car. She said she was sitting in the back seat while Baba was driving and her father, Dadai was sitting next to him in front. Suddenly as the car kept moving she saw Baba's head turned to the right at a 90 degree angle and it was the same case with her father! She was about to yell for them to look straight when she too turned her head right to see what had captured her husband's and father's attention. It was a good looking woman walking down the road. Oh how Mamoni laughed when telling this story and said - "Tutu always remember men will be men. Let a good looking woman go past and their heads are bound to be turned."

A television set similar to this was brought in one morning in August 1975. It was a Weston tv set, I remember. Baba came in with some electricians and got it fixed next to the telephone in the second floor room. It was just right so that Mamoni could watch comfortably from the floor. It was the first day of television broadcast in Calcutta. The broadcast used to be in the mornings and evenings; and that day we watched the opening of television broadcast in Calcutta. And you know what Mamoni commented? She told Baba - "Ah ha! So now you got me a toy to play with while you are busy with your disciples, the whole day!"   Yes humorous and at the same time it revealed how much she missed being with her husband, working alongside him and practically being the busy-bee she used to be. Coming back to prime time, Mamoni loved watching Shib Shekhar/Icecream sit and dance to the intial music of the news broadcast. Icecream was about 7-8 months at the time.

Now why was my first born named Icecream? As you can see he was fair with blue eyes and pink cheeks. He was often mistaken to be a girl because of his deliciously good looks. Mamoni said he reminds her of vanilla icecream and so presto! he was nicknamed Icecream! Till date he is still addressed by this name by most of us, even though he is a grown man now.  Mamoni loved ice cream and sweets of every kind.  Even though she had blood sugar she would quietly get the kitchen boy to buy her sweets in the afternoons. And she shared them with me. I, too loved sweets. In her sweet, loving moments Mamoni would call me Tutti-frutti, instead of Tutu. 

I did not know how to cook. I learned from scratch from Mamoni. She would sit in the room or at the dining table and instruct me every step. I would keep running back and forth from the kitchen to get the next instruction. There was a cook, Gobindo from Orissa - a very temperamental human being. He cooked superbly, I learned cabbage curry from him. Mamoni taught me to cook dishes like keema curry, fried chicken (her speciality), razella, simple aloo curries etc. I became an expert in aloo dish and rotis/chapattis, so much so, Baba would have this everyday for his breakfast and I would naturally be cooking it with pride. while Mamoni would sit and watch over the serving and gaze lovingly at her handsome husband. wow! was there love in the air! She just worshipped the ground Baba walked on. 

I learned bhetki fry- how the fish needed to be immersed in lemon juice etc and then dipped in egg batter, then covered with crumbs before frying. delicious! Rooma taught me dhania chicken. Mami aka Krishna Ghosh taught me a special karela dish, which I make even now. Mami even taught me how to eat a big fish head. Honestly I literally learned to be a Bengali after my marriage. And how can I forget those days of my first pregnancy and how the sight of food made me rush to the bathroom.  Mamoni and Nanima would sit there watching me like a hawk while I sat down for lunch. Lunch meaning rice, dal, vegetables, fish curry etc. I would have gone through just about half of my plate before I would run to throw it all out. When I came out of the bathroom I would find another plate of lunch set for me and both mother and daughter sitting there till I finished my food. It went on for many days till my morning sickness (?) subsided. And so did this stern attitude of Nanima and Mamoni. As Nanima said - "You eat, You throw up. And then you eat the same amount of food again till you can keep it inside you." She always said that a pregnant woman must eat as much as possible and not let the baby grow too much inside her but to nourish and nurture the baby once it is born with love, massage,care and proper feeding. She was so right. 

I shall add to this later. There is too much to write. Too many memories. Too many incidents - happy and sad.  

WOMEN AND THEIR EVERYDAY CHALLENGES

CHALLENGES FACED BY YOUNG WOMEN

Women are home-makers. Women are the weaker sex. Women must adhere to certain rules and regulations, even if they are earning. Rules often set by men. The Shriver report of 2014 states 18 issues challenging women in the US. Wonder whether that number has gone up or down. Yes there are plenty of challenges faced by young women in today's world. Though a majority of them are external, some are often internal. The basic mentality of men and women needs a change. The stereotype characterization of the sexes need to be reshuffled.

Discrimination is an awful word and it rules the roost on challenges faced by young women. At home the son is given preference over the daughter. At the workplace, it is verbal and physical sexual abuse; and the gender wage gap is still prevalent in the most powerful country in the world, leave alone the rest of the other countries. Young women go through horrific domestic violence that shatters all their romantic dreams. Break the marriage and it is often the woman who is blamed and targeted, irrespective of the actual cause. Social gatherings can be a nightmare for women if they are not escorted with the right type of guy. Bar hopping is okay for men but can be read as an invitation for rape if women do the same. Many countries have religious gatherings with distinctly marked seating arrangements for men and women.

And yet there are millions of families – across all sectors of the society where a woman is the main breadwinner. Most of the time she is willing to take a back seat and let her husband be in the limelight! In the name of social security a young woman forsakes her ambitions and toes the line so that her dignity is not outraged. Who are the perpetrators? The men! The question is who made the men like that? The society, people who live in the society – that includes men and women.

The importance of a woman's independent opinion is so blatantly obvious during political elections – all over the world. A woman is her own boss inside that small voting cubicle. She presses the button she wants to and not what a male friend or relative asked her to! This is freedom and this is what a woman needs to inculcate inside her every moment of her life at every stage and every situation.

I just read somewhere that “women earn less than men but have more expenses.” Honestly it is hilarious but true only in certain social strata of each country. Th so-called empowerment of women has increased the number of women going out to work and the young delve into consumerism wholeheartedly, as if there is no tomorrow. Blame the ads and media, who know how to lure the young earning females.

Men and women were never meant to be enemies- they are two sides of the same coin made by the great source known as God.

Today I am sharing a letter written by my cousin, Dipankar Deb, to his elder brother. He has been a seaman all his life and the letter tells about some of his scary and hilarious experiences. I shared his recent article in my G+ page. 

At Manila, 26^th July 2011

Hi Ramu/Dada,

Truth be told, I rather enjoyed my sojourn at sea.

As you will recall, I was the first person in my batch to clear the 2^nd Engineer Exam, and amongst the few early birds with my Chief Engineer License Exam in Yr ’73.

I then joined Wallem Hong Kong and was promoted to C/Eng after a year, and sent on a crude oil tanker.

As I had never worked on a tanker before (these were the days before IG Systems, and all the other safe-guards that were ushered in after a couple of horrendous accidents), the Indian Chief Officer took me around (at that time the norm was for Officers to be mostly from India, with crew from the Philippines).

On entering the Cargo Pumproom, I looked down and found a vast pool of oil with nothing else visible. On pointing this out to the C/O he was totally shocked to view a sea of oil where there should have been a pump room with steam pumps.

We spent the next few days groping around in the oil to find and activate the remote control rods for the submerged steam pumps, and then pumping out (back to the oil tank) without further unpleasant surprises.

There were many such close shaves and even life-threatening incidents along the way, such as a head-on collision at full speed with another vessel, an immediate burst into flame of both vessels (being tankers), my going down to stop the engines prior abandoning the vessel, my returning on deck to find both lifeboats already lowered and well away (even though I had told the Bengali 2^nd Engineer and Kannadiga Master to hold one boat for me), all crew members off except the Indian C/O and one Indonesian Oiler (who had helped me to stop the engines).

We could not escape in the inflatable life rafts as we were now surrounded by burning oil escaping from the vessel. So the three of us had no option but to fight the fire with whatever make-shift methods we could devise. We managed to keep the flames from engulfing the aft of the vessel and were literally saved by a passing tug boat.

The tug boat had no fire fighting foam, and mentioned that they would get some from the nearby Indonesian town of Plaju. Being aware of the possibility of them going to sleep prior returning (all of this taking place in the middle of the night), we broke open the Bonded Locker and placed all the bonded alcohol and cigarettes on the Bridge wing as their prize if they could hurry up.

They sure did hurry up and sprayed the vessel with foam till at around 7.30am (about 10 hours since the collision) the fire was put out, and our champion crew sheepishly returned to the vessel, which was still afloat, but with the forecastle missing, the front cargo tank badly damaged, and the crude oil in that tank totally burnt off or leaked into the sea.

Anecdote – It appears that the Owner (Bruce Rappaport) angrily exclaimed to the attending senior management in Singapore “what kind of ship staff do you employ? Don’t they know that I could have made more money from Insurance if the vessel was a total loss?”

So much for the value of heroics, though we were given bonuses, and I was made a Supt based in Singapore. That episode was short-lived as in the Year 1978, Singapore was one of the most boring (and slightly troublesome) places to live, hence I opted to return to sailing after a few months. More on Singapore later.

I must also not forget to tell you about my good friend Saddam of Iraq (may he rest in peace), and how he literally saved my job.

We were on a big White Oil Tanker in Kuwait loading Kerosene, Aviation Fuel, High Speed Diesel etc segregated in separate tanks. We had just finished dinner and I was on the Bridge along with my good friend Capt Lund (a Norwegian), when the Indian C/O came running up in consternation, and told us that the Aviation Fuel tank had got contaminated with HSD. We ran down and found that the Aviation Fuel Cargo tank had acquired a sickening dark color, thus rendering the Aviation fuel useless. This would entail a loss of millions of dollars to the charterer, and he would take it out on the Owner, who (aside from having the Insurance Companies breathing down his neck) would demand the immediate banishment of the concerned incompetents (meaning Master, C/O and me), and possible sanctions such as review of our licenses etc – in other words, we were staring at a dramatic change of circumstances for yours truly.

In despair we returned to the Bridge to contemplate our resignation letters (to avoid the ignominy of being summarily sacked). Only God or Saddam could have helped us to get out of this horrible mess, and Saddam answered our prayers.

At around 9.30pm, we heard a loud explosion from the shore tank farm, followed by further explosions and fire streaking to the sky from the damaged tanks that had caught fire.

Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait had begun.

All other vessels were ordered to immediately cast off and sail, while we were kept alongside by the shore authorities in a desperate attempt to empty out the oil tanks adjacent to the burning tanks, to save as much as they could.

They then pumped all types of mixtures into our tanks and thus polluted the segregated fuels even more – and let us off the hook.

Since then, I have always harbored a soft corner for our dear benefactor Saddam, and was indeed distressed to see him being dispatched so ingloriously, just because cowboy George hated his guts, and cooked up all types of yellow powder and WMD tall tales to go to war with six-guns blazing, leading to the crowning moment of George framed against a backdrop of fighter jets on an aircraft carrier declaring ‘VICTORY’. Tom Cruz couldn’t have done it better, though they will pay for their mistakes for many years to come – but that is another story.

I must off course admit that the photo-op on the aircraft carrier sure looked good on TV, and, if you follow the comic books – well worth going to war for, give or take a few hundred thousand (mostly Iraqi) dead bodies (which could be passed off with a shrug and the timeless gringo comment “shit happens”).

The above is just an illustration of the rather exciting lifestyle that was still available to seamen a few decades ago. The present-day situation is changed beyond recognition, with strict rules and regulations, and the senior officers under personal threat of jail, and huge personal fines, by any country that deems that you have violated their arcane laws.

I managed to leave active sailing at a most opportune time (1994), when at the urging of Rajiv Dhanda (our 1 year junior from Bombay, and my boss in Singa Shipmanagement) I took up a Super’s job under him in Manila.

I was put in charge of a BOT (build, operate, transfer) scheme for a pair of Kvearner Fjellstrand all-aluminum 370-seater super-fast (34 knots or around 60 kph) luxury ferries (fitted with night vision) for the Philippine local trade. We built them at a shipyard in Singapore, brought them over to Cebu, operated them for a year, and then handed over the vessels to a local company that, within a year, ran it into the ground and sold off the vessels at a major loss.

Reason – vessel traveling with 200 passengers, but only 50 tickets issued (the rest giving underhand token payments directly to the staff). We had kept strict control of such activities with random firings at the slightest suspicion, but, under the locals, everybody was in on the game, from the Company President downwards (the President even appropriated some of the office computers and opened up a computer training institute). It was a hilarious fiasco to watch, and it was an object lesson of how ‘not’ to do business in the local environment.

I was then pirated (in Yr 1999) by a good Norwegian friend Alf Andersen to open up a ship management company.

I set it up from my house (including all Govt licenses/permits/clearances), and took over our first vessel in October ’99 while still operating with 3 staff (Secretary, Accountant and Supt) who would report to my house daily. We had a phone line that could also be used for faxes, and we had my personal computer – and that was it.

This feat can no longer be duplicated, as, due to the advent of ISM and other strict IMO policies, it is no longer possible (as of Yr 2001) to set up fly-by-night ship management companies from residences, post boxes etc.

We finally managed to get a proper office (near my house) by the end of the year, and due to the success of the first vessel, started getting more vessels (from the same Owner) for management.

Things went from bad to worse (for my life-style that is) as we ended up with 13 very specialized, fully computerized cement-handling vessels with environment-friendly self-discharging capability trading Worldwide (with an office staff of 24 and a sea-going staff of over 300).

In Yr 2007, we sold the company lock-stock-and-barrel to one of the biggest privately owned shipping companies in the World (KGJS of Bergen, Norway), for a huge sum, with the selling Owners making out handsomely (from an initial investment of less than 20% the sale price), and we were all retained full time by the new Owners as per the sale agreement, which stipulated that I and my staff would have to stay on for a minimum of one year.

This chapter finally closed end November last year, when the office was disbanded, and management transferred to Singapore and Bergen.

I was then tasked to close the office, including negotiating severance with the staff, and all Govt formalities. So I can quite proudly say that I attended the birth of the company, and its demise too. And now I lead the life of a country gentleman with golf, and girls, as the main attractions (though not necessarily in that order).

Is there anything I would have done differently given a second chance? I must emphatically say no.

It all worked out in the end, and, as we have come to realize, it is the end game that finally matters, it is the inner peace we attain that puts us at ease, it is the thought of a stress-free tomorrow that fills our lives with the scent of roses, and, finally, when we are ready to cross over, we can do so in the full knowledge that we truly lived well, as decent citizens, honorably, and without regret.

Jai Maharaj.