web version - my notes - jayesh tekchandaney-17 december

8/8/2019 Web Version - My Notes - Jayesh Tekchandaney-17 December

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Business owner, engineer, cultural commentator and intellectual

adventurer, Jayesh Tekchandaney was born in 1976 in Mumbai in

a highly educated family. He grew up in Mumbai and graduated

with a degree in Chemical Engineering in 1998. Jayesh pursued a

business management diploma followed by Master of Science

degree in Industrial Engineering from the Pennsylvania State

University, USA. He is currently working as the Projects Director

in a manufacturing company founded by his father.



| M y N o t e s 3

MY NOTES

THE STORY OF MS. BHUMIKA PATEL .............................7

MICKEY V/S MINI...............................................................18

THE EXECUTIVE MONK ................................................... 22

MY ENCOUNTER WITH AAMIR KHAN ............................32

3 IDIOTS AND THE SECRET OF “ALL IS WELL” ...........37

WHEN CHAMPIONS FAIL ................................................. 45

THE DC DISASTER ...........................................................51

THE ORGANIZATION AND ITS PEOPLE.........................55

TO MOM & DAD.................................................................59

WORLD, MY SON STARTS SCHOOL TODAY................. 62

MEMOIRS...........................................................................65

5th November, 2010



| M y N o t e s 4

FOREWORD

“My Notes” is a compilation of Jayesh’s varied experiences and

thoughts.

It represents a remarkable journey that signifies the metamorphosis

from an occasional reader to voracious reader to author.

Jayesh has always been a keen observer of life, and loves to reflect

on day to day happenings around him. He is in touch with his

“inner self” and reflects upon daily happenings to refine his

journey of self-discovery.

He discovered reading a few years ago, and with characteristic

single minded determination, took it upon himself to make up for

lost time by reading a wide array of books. The power of logical

and introspective prose allures him, and keeps him a faithfully

voracious reader to date.

“My Notes” is a natural extension, for someone who is not only

adept at prose; but also a tutor at heart.



| M y N o t e s 5

While some of the chapters are light hearted, it is through others

that Jayesh seeks to share constructively with all readers the

concepts he discovered as a result of his exposure to good reading.

Through these, we see his path of self-discovery and self growth.

My Notes is a good omen, a sign of things to come. As Jayesh

gains further depth through his process of self discovery, we can

all look forward to quality thoughts that will add value to our lives.

The greatest gift an author has is to allow readers to learn from his

personal experiences.

Good speed my friend, and happy writing!!

Aniket Gore



| M y N o t e s 6



| M y N o t e s 7

The Story of Ms. Bhumika Patel This story dates back to 2002. It’s about a pretty girl named

Bhumika Patel, an engineering graduate from India who wanted to

pursue a master’s degree at The Pennsylvania State University,

USA. For first hand information she contacted Nipun Patel, a

graduate student at the Computer Engineering Department, PSU.

This story is about both of them.

Bhumika

Nipun was a tall, lanky guy from Ahmedabad, India. He stayed off

campus at 3105, Plaza Drive, along with three other room mates.

Vishal – ‘The Big Boss’, Jay (yours truly) – ‘The Playboy’ and

Divya (male, age - 22) – ‘The Silent Killer’. For us he was

‘Bhaiyo’, meaning brother in Gujarati. Nipun didn’t like the name;



| M y N o t e s 8

after all he was now in the United States of America. He preferred

to be addressed as ‘Andy Patel’, his initials were N.D.

For the Indian students, 3105, Plaza Drive, was like the Indian

Embassy (actually more of a ‘Dharamshala’) where anyone could

walk in and steal a free lunch. We always had good food in the

house, open 24/7.

L-R: Jay, Atin, Vishal, Divya, Nigam, Alok, Nipun

The University Park campus of the Pennsylvania State University

was a popular choice for the engineering graduates from India.



| M y N o t e s 9

There were more than 500 Indian students on campus. There were

also plenty of mid-age Indian professors who bonded well with the

student community and supported generously with research

scholarships.

The tradition at PSU was that each incoming Indian student at the

University was assigned a student mentor who would answer the

pre-arrival queries, make arrangements for temporary

accommodation on arrival and ensure that things like opening a

bank account, signing the apartment lease were taken care of.

Bhumika chose Nipun to be her mentor.

“Hi, my name is Bhumika Patel,” a long pause, “uh…from

Ahmedabad. This message is for Nipun Patel. I wish to come to

Pennsylvania State University for MS in computer engineering. I

got your contact from the college website. Like you, I am a Patel

from Ahmedabad and so I thought I should talk to you before

coming. Please contact me. My email is..,”. The answering

machine went silent after her message was heard by everyone in

the apartment.

All eyes in the room turned to Nipun. He had just returned home

and the first thing he did was hit the answering machine, as if he



| M y N o t e s 10

was expecting this message. “You guys don’t even check the

messages!” he complained. It was customary that the first person

who returned home would play the messages. On that day, all of us

were at home but no one checked the messages. We were busy in

the kitchen cooking Pav-Bhaji.

“Bhaiyo, you lucky guy,” said Divya, “a Patel girl, that too from

Ahmedabad.”

“You anyways wanted to marry a Patel!” I teased Nipun,

reminding him of what he had once said to me.

Vishal reminded Nipun of the Penn State ‘Indian’ culture of

helping the incoming students. “Bhaiyo, make sure that you reply

soon,” instructed Vishal who always behaved as if he was the head

of the family.

Nipun didn’t look too interested in the call. He had better things to

do; the most important was getting a scholarship to pay for his

college tuition. The second priority was finding a ‘female,

American, Undergrad,’ dance partner each week (Apparently no

girl wanted to partner him the second time). He never missed the

weekend ‘Salsa’ dance lessons at the university entertainment Hub.



| M y N o t e s 11

A week later Nipun replied. “Bhumika, Penn State is good, but not

good…. I mean funding. You can come here if not getting

anywhere. Ok. I have class, going now. Email later if you want

information.” Nipun really had to go…to sleep.

Disappointed with the reply she wrote back, “Looks like you are

not interested in helping me. Can you give me the contact of

someone who can help me?” These messages were being

exchanged on the incoming students’ e-groups (there was no

Facebook then).

Soon, she was flooded with replies from the other Indian guys at

Penn State. They had just seen her profile picture. “If she comes to

Penn State she would be a serious contender for the ‘Miss

University’ crown,” the guys discussed amongst themselves. She

looked gorgeous. Fair complexion, sharp features, black eyes, long

hair…. On first looks, anyone could have mistaken her to be a

Hindi movie actress.

All of a sudden Nipun decided to respond to her queries. He

ensured that he answered all her questions. In detail.

Soon they started exchanging emails more often. Like the other

Indian guys on campus, Nipun too added her to the list of friends



| M y N o t e s 12

on MSN messenger. Online chat was popular then. The students

had a habit of being ‘logged in’ at all times. Chat time was well

utilised; assignments and project reports were prepared in between

the chats. Bhumika had messages blinking on her desktop,

non-stop, one after another. Guys kept waiting for her reply.

Strangely though, she would only respond to Nipun.

Divya complained, “How come she only chats with you?”

“Once Bhaiyo logs off, she logs out too,” I remarked.

“And vice-versa!” added Alok, our close friend

Nipun pretended as if he knew nothing. But deep within, he

enjoyed being the chosen one. Her chemistry with him was perfect.

The reactions on his face said it all.

“She’s coming!” he informed us after she told him about her admit

from PSU. The excitement and happiness reflected in everything

he did. ‘Bhaiyo’ became ‘Andy – The Lover Boy’. Her admission

to Penn State was his biggest achievement. The reward was on its

way.



| M y N o t e s 13

A month and half passed, and the semester starting fall 2002 was

fast approaching. During this period, Nipun and Bhumika got close

to each other, online. He would chat with her all night and into the

early hours of the morning. We would often peep-in to his laptop

to check the context of their conversation. She too could be spotted

online during his day hours. The time difference between India and

US did not matter to them.

Nipun had already started counting days backwards. For him, the

wait was getting difficult. Everything was closing in until one day.

For Nipun it was doomsday.

Bhumika wasn’t coming to Penn State. She had family problems

which she couldn’t share with Nipun.

“So what!” said Divya, “We shall meet her when we go to

Ahmedabad in December.” Divya was also from Ahmedabad.

“Relax dude, I’ll find you a better girl in PSU,” I consoled Nipun.

Thereafter, Bhumika was rarely spotted on the messenger. Nipun

would send her emails but she wouldn’t answer. He was beginning

to get restless. He couldn’t call her because he had no phone

number; they had always chatted online. Suddenly from ‘Bhaiyo’

to ‘Andy - The Lover Boy’ to ‘Devdas’, we never ran out of new

names.



| M y N o t e s 14

There couldn’t have been a greater co-incidence that the Hub on

campus was screening the Hindi movie Devdas starring Shahrukh

Khan on the Diwali weekend. Diwali, like all Indian festivals, was

well celebrated by the Indians in town. On Diwali night all four of

us decided to feast at the Indian Pavilion, a popular restaurant, in

the company of close friends, Alok, Atin, Binu, Nigam and Prachi.

Dinner was accompanied with some fine wine.

In high spirits, Binu John spoke of how much he enjoyed being

with our group. We were very closely bonded - living together;

cooking Sanjeev Kapoor recipes, celebrating birthdays, pillow-

fights, late night discussions and debates had become a way of life.

Away from home, this was the family each one could confide in. A

family by choice. We poured our hearts out that night.

Besides recounting the good experiences, it was the first time that

everyone shared what they didn’t like about the others in the

group. It was a day of confessions and complaints, all of which

were to be forgiven and forgotten. There couldn’t have been a

better occasion to do it than Diwali. Some New Year resolutions

were made for the family.

While all of this was happening, Divya and I looked at each other.

We were both thinking about Bhumika.



| M y N o t e s 15

Celebrating Diwali, Festivals, Birthdays

“I have something to confess to Nipun,” I told the group. Almost

everyone except Nipun knew what was coming. “There is no

Bhumika Patel. There is only [email protected] and you can

login with the password ‘Bhaiyo’.”

For a moment, Nipun was stunned. But he knew me well and

would not be fooled so easily. He was confident that this was just

another prank. More than that, he had known Bhumika for over

three months. How could she be unreal?



| M y N o t e s 16

That night, the lights in Nipun’s room did not go off. Not because

it was Diwali but because he could login as Bhumika Patel.

Bhumika was a creation of the ‘family members’. A story scripted

by yours truly, enacted by all.

It had all started the night when Nipun heard the message on the

answering machine. Earlier in the evening, Divya ,Vishal and me

were at Nigam and Prachi’s residence when we decided to play

this prank with Nipun.

Prachi was responsible for the messages on the answering

machine. I communicated through emails. Everyone in the group

could access the fictitious hotmail account. We voluntarily took

turns to chat – day and night. And the profile picture was that of

Bhumika Chawla, a relatively-unknown, aspiring Hindi film

actress then.

Nipun lived with us for a month thereafter but was never as

comfortable as he used to be. He soon moved to a different

apartment. Divya and I returned to India after graduating in

December 2002. Nigam and Prachi continued to live in Penn State

until Nigam got his PhD. Vishal married Aparana; they shared an

apartment with Alok. Atin was the first to get a job, he moved to

Microsoft in Seattle. Binu would some day return to his real family

in NY. Everyone forgot about the incident, except one person.



| M y N o t e s 17

Six months later, in April 2003, my hotmail account was hacked.

“I can do it too – Nipun D. Patel.”

27th July, 2009



| M y N o t e s 18

Mickey v/s Mini

Shourya at Birth

“Another division in the Share of Wealth,” that is the first thing

that I heard when the Doctor congratulated me on the birth of

‘Shourya’, our second son. I was so excited then that I did not pay

serious attention to the spoken words. On after-thought I wondered

as to why she would say so. I decided that the next time I meet her

I shall respond, “One more creator of Wealth”. Before I could put



| M y N o t e s 19

my point across to the doctor, the pediatrician greeted me as I

entered into his consulting room, “Second Time Lucky,” he said.

This was a shocker. I never expected doctors to have a gender bias.

As more wishes poured in, there were many similar statements

made. From loved ones, from acquaintances and from some people

who had no business to talk about it. I heard them all.

“Girls are limited liability. Gone when married. You need to give it

all to the boys,” said an uncle blessed with two sons. As far as I

know them, they are obedient, disciplined, caring and loving sons.

I wondered what made him say so.

“I now have a reason to work more, work harder. I need to build

two empires,” Dad told Mom when he arrived home late the other

night. He had just found another good reason for putting in more

hours at work.

“That’s two sixes in a row,” said one cousin. He was referring to

our two sons, Maahir and Shourya. In cricket, a “six” is the

maximum number of runs that you can score in one stroke. What

he meant was that we made the most from the two deliveries.



| M y N o t e s 20

It was not long before I realised that the gender of a child is still (in

the 21st Century) subjected to so many different interpretations.

All of the interpretations were related to wealth; nothing that we

have not heard of before. But what was surprising was that the

comments were made by doctors, lawyers and industrialists, the

apparently well educated, suave professionals of the modern world.

These same professionals if asked in an isolated context would

claim that they would never discriminate between a male child and

a female child. Yet, somewhere in the deepest level of the

sub-conscious there is a preference, an opinion which can be seen

from what was said. It is also interesting to note that these

statements were made to convey good wishes. The words were

said when the person was in a positive, happy frame of mind.

Hence, they would communicate the natural thoughts of

the person.

We wished for a baby girl. We told Maahir that he would have a

sister and we would name her ‘Mini’. But then God blessed us

with ‘Shourya’.

“You didn’t know whether it was a boy or a girl when he was in

Mom’s Womb,” stated Maahir.

“Sorry Maahir, we thought it would be Mini but it turned out to be

Mickey”, I said.



| M y N o t e s 21

He turned to me and said, “What difference does it make papa?”.

(R to L) Jayesh, Maahir and Purvi with baby Shourya As much as we would all like to keep away from any gender bias,

there are times and circumstances when we react quite the

opposite, sometimes unknowingly. Perhaps the doctors who made

the statements only conveyed the reactions they got from the

parents and family members they came across every day. It’s time

that we make a conscious effort to change the way we think. Our

country (India) has always been known for gender discrimination

between a male child and a female child. And this discrimination

shall continue until we are prepared to accept what the three year

old child said when he saw his baby brother for the first time.

5th

May, 2009



| M y N o t e s 22

The Executive Monk

The wait was finally over. The day had arrived – after a gap of

thirteen long years. It was time to live like a monk. The dates

14th – 17th October, 2010 were marked on my calendar for four

months. I would be attending a 3-day Vipassana course at

Dhamma Pattana, the new centre built on the outskirts of Mumbai,famous for the Global Vipassana Pagoda.

Vipassana, which means to see things as they really are, is one of

India's most ancient techniques of meditation. The foundation of

the practice is s ī la — moral conduct. S ī la provides a basis for the

development of samādhi — concentration of mind; and

purification of the mind is achieved through paññā — the wisdom

of insight. The technique is taught at 10-day residential courses

during which participants follow a prescribed code of discipline,

learn the basics of the method, and practice sufficiently to

experience its beneficial results. All students attending the course

observe "noble silence" — that is, silence of body, speech and

mind. The course requires hard, serious work. There are three

steps to the training. The first step is, for the period of the course,

to abstain from killing, stealing, sexual activity, speaking falsely



| M y N o t e s 23

and intoxicants. This simple code of moral conduct serves to calm

the mind, which otherwise would be too agitated to perform the

task of self-observation. The next step is to develop mastery over

the mind by learning to fix one's attention on the natural reality of

the ever changing flow of breath as it enters and leaves the nostrils.

By the fourth day the mind is calmer and more focused, better able

to undertake the practice of Vipassana itself: observing sensations

throughout the body, understanding their nature, and developing

equanimity by learning not to react to them. Finally, on the tenth

day participants learn the meditation of loving kindness or

goodwill towards all, termed as meta, in which the purity

developed during the course is shared with all beings. There are no

charges for the courses - not even to cover the cost of food and

accommodation. All expenses are met by donations from people

who, having completed a course and experienced the benefits of

Vipassana, wish to give others the opportunity to benefit from it.

There are numerous centres in India and elsewhere in Asia/Pacific:

ten in North America; three in Latin America; eight in Europe;

seven in Australia/New Zealand; one in the Middle East and one in

Africa.

In 1995, I attended my first 10-day Vipassana course at the age of

nineteen, followed by two more in 1996 and 1997. I was an



| M y N o t e s 24

engineering student then. Now 34, married, blessed with two kids,

and shouldering the responsibility of manufacturing business, the

thought of attending a meditation course for 10 days seemed like

luxury. In fact, on 14th morning, even three days of being cut-off

from the outside world looked impossible. I was able to make it to

the course only because of some last minute planning. A special

permission allowed me to start the course a few hours after the

scheduled time.

A convenient way to get to Dhamma Pattana is to take the

fifteen minute boat ride from the Gorai Jetty to Essel World. I

arrived at the jetty late in the evening, just in time for the last but

one boat ride which would take me to the other side of the Gorai

creek. As I walked towards the jetty terminal, I could not take my

eyes off the majestic 325 feet tall, illuminated pagoda and its

golden reflection in the placid waters.

As I waited for the boat to start, the clock turned back fifteen

years. I attended my first three 10-day courses at Dhamma Giri, the

first full time Vipassapa centre, located about 140 kms from

Mumbai in the small town of Igatpuri. During the first course I

lived in a dormitory shared by 11 others. My cubicle was 8 feet x

6 feet, with walls on 3 sides, a small window and a curtain

separating the dorm lobby. At night, I would creep into the



| M y N o t e s 25

mosquito net around the bed. We were advised to apply a mosquito

repellent cream before sleeping.

The Global Pagoda

The wake-up time was 4 am. The sound of the morning gong still

echoes in my ears. The morning meditation session started at half

past four and lasted for two hours. The walk from the dorm to the

central meditation hall, known as the Dhamma Hall was about



| M y N o t e s 26

300 metres. I remember carrying a torch and an umbrella during

the walk. After the first session, breakfast was served in a dining

hall. The menu was typical Maharashtrian – poha, saboo dana,

sheera, with some fresh fruits. Milk and tea were served. After a

quick nashta the meditators would rush back to their respective

dorms. There was one bathroom and one toilet in each dorm. We

had to line up for all the essentials and get over with it fast.

One would be lucky if there was hot water in the tap. By 8 am all

of the 500 odd meditators on the course would be back in the

Dhamma Hall for the one-hour morning group meditation session.

Between 9 am and 11 am, we could continue to mediate inside the

central hall or in the individual cells allotted to us. The afternoon

break was from 11 am to 1 pm. A quick, non-spicy, satvik lunch

(the last meal of the day, unless you had a medical reason) was

generally followed by a short nap. The afternoon session would

continue till 5 pm, and included the second group meditation

session from 2:30 pm to 3:30 pm. The evening break was from

5 pm to 6 pm. We were served nimbu paani (lime water). After the

last group meditation session that ended at 7 pm, there was a

videotaped lecture by the teacher, S.N. Goenka, which provided a

context for meditators to understand their experience of the day.

The day concluded at 9 pm with specific instructions for next day

meditation. By 9:30 pm we were back in the dorm and fast asleep.



| M y N o t e s 27

In the 10-day course, the meditators would talk to each other for

the first time only on the morning of the tenth day. The sharing of

experience was an invaluable learning. The other excitement was

calling up home and talking to family after nine days of silence.

Until my last course in 1997, cell phones were uncommon. At the

Dhamma Giri office there were about three PCO’s for the 500 odd

meditators who wished to use them at the end of the course. Each

minute in the telephone queue seemed like an additional day

in silence.

In the thirteen years between my last course and this one, I

occasionally practiced Vipassana meditation at home. Each time I

did, I felt at peace. It was like cleansing the mind of the

unwanted clutter

Until my second course in 1996, I had a voracious and a well

known appetite for chicken. So when I chose to eat vegetarian

during a family lunch everyone was surprised. I then decided that I

shall avoid non-vegetarian food for a month. When that happened,

I extended it to three months. It’s been fourteen years since and I

continue to give myself extensions.

Back in time, as the boat got closer to the Pagoda, a part of me was

still unsure if I could live the same way as I did earlier. But deep

within, I was happy to have made it to the course. In the next few



| M y N o t e s 28

minutes, I had my baggage checked; surrendered my cell phone

along with the reading and writing material that I always like to

carry with me, and arrived to my room.

The three days there after went by very fast. If the 10-day course

was like test match cricket, then the three day course was like

Twenty-20, except that the schedule for each day was still the

same, 4 am to 9 pm. On 17th morning, I felt sad because the course

was about to get over. Two days of meditation and silence made

me feel lighter from within – more importantly; I was away from

the demands of every day life. I would have loved to continue for a

few days more.

In the three day course, we broke silence on the morning of the

third day. Within no time all the meditators took custody of their

cell phones and spread in all possible corners of the centre to talk

to friends and family. There was very little interaction amongst the

80 participants on the course. Technology sometimes takes away

the ‘little pleasures’ of life.

I was happy to meet up with a few youngsters in their early

twenties. Each of them had attended a 10-day course. After all, it is

mandatory to complete a 10-day course, before one can register for

a 3-day course. For them, I was the senior pro – a meditator for 15

years. Later that day, I was fortunate to meet a noted industrialist



| M y N o t e s 29

who had been attending the course since the last 41 years. It was

his 82nd birthday and for him group meditation at the centre was

the best way to celebrate.

During my interaction with the young guys, one of them, a MBA

student, expressed his displeasure (may be a doubt) about the

donation to the Global Vipassana Foundation. He made specific

reference to the placards that were displayed at the donation

counters, which highlighted the expenses incurred in building and

maintaining facilities at the centre, and the estimated cost of the

planned expansions. He related the amount of donation to the

duration of the course and stay. As others in the discussion

reminded him of the definition of donation, “A voluntary gift (as of

money, service or ideas) made to some worthwhile cause”, I felt

the need to share some information which was probably not known

to him.

I narrated to the young brigade the experience of my first three

courses, when the meditators lived in the facilities that were

available then. In contrast, at Dhamma Pattana during that course,

all of the 80 participants lived in a single-occupancy, 10 feet by 10

feet, air-conditioned room with an attached bathroom. There was a

separate place to keep the baggage. Each room was well lit and had

sliding windows with built-in mosquito nets. You would get a lock



| M y N o t e s 30

and key when you checked into the room. Hot water was available

round the clock (the centre is equipped with a solar heating

system). Like the rooms, the meditation hall is equipped with split

air-conditioners. Soon the individual cells for meditation shall have

an air-conditioning system. At lunch, besides Indian food, we were

served salads, soups, continental and Chinese preparations

followed with a sweet-dish. All of this has been done to ensure that

the meditators coming on the course are comfortable during the

stay. My young friend realised that this could not have been

possible without the contributions made by those who have

benefitted from the course in the past.

From the gypsy courses that started in early 1970’s in make-shift

tents to the modern day centre at Gorai, Vipassana meditation in

India has come a long way. During the 3-day course, I felt that I

lived like an executive monk.

The most memorable moment of the four courses came to me

towards the end of the second course, immediately after the meta

meditation. The feeling was that of abundant joy, within and in

everything around. The mind was silent. The body did not seem to

exist. Those few moments of truth shall stay with me forever.

Be Happy



| M y N o t e s 31

For Details on Vipassana please visit the following –

http://www.dhamma.org/en/vipassana.shtml

http://www.pattana.dhamma.org/

P.S. - Many like me would be accustomed to spending a fairly big

amount on one family outing in the weekend; or much bigger

amounts when on a weekend trip to the hill-station, or the beach.

However, it is unfortunate that life changing experiences like the

one mentioned above are valued by some as 3-day and

10-day packages.

25th October, 2010



| M y N o t e s 32

My Encounter with Aamir Khan

On my way to Ranchi for a business meet, I was inside the

Kingfisher Lounge at Mumbai airport, when I spotted a familiar

face. The face was far too familiar for me to take my eyes off. It

was my favorite super star, Aamir Khan.

As I stared at the approaching super star, I realised that he was

getting closer to where I was sitting.

“Is someone sitting over here?” he asked.

“No. You may please sit,” was my quick response.

A centre table and approximately four feet of space was what

separated me from Aamir. It’s hard to describe the feeling of that

moment in words…. It can only be experienced.

Aamir was accompanied by an unknown female colleague. She

started talking to him about work. He interrupted her and walked to

the cafeteria. After looking at everything that was for the taking, he

returned to his seat with four chocolate cookies. He then asked her

to continue. And even though I sat staring at my laptop screen, I

couldn’t help eavesdropping on their conversation.



| M y N o t e s 33

She asked him if he would like to go to the hotel or directly to the

site, once they landed in Jaipur. He said he was fine with anything,

adding, “I just need a bathroom to freshen up.” She then switched

topics about some tax rebate for the donation he had made to an

NGO. It was something that she was unable to sort out, so she

asked if he could speak to the concerned person. He said he would.

I decided to ask him for an autograph. I took my business card and

turned it over to hand it to Aamir. I spotted a small black mark on

it. I quickly pulled out another card. This was spotless. I requested

for an autograph. “OK,” he said. I handed over my pen and the

card. He signed, stopped, looked at the pen… and signed again. I

was happy to have his autograph on the back of my business card.

I tucked it back into my wallet and made sure that I did not mix it

up with my other cards.

He continued to bite the cookies. ‘Should I ask him for a

photograph,’ I wondered. Before thinking too much I said, “Aamir,

do you mind a photograph?” He looked at me and nodded

affirmatively. ‘Bingo!’

As both of us were seated face-on, I thought I would request Aamir

to come and sit besides me (mine was a sofa for two). Before I

could say anything, I saw Aamir already up on his toes. I nervously

handed over my new Samsung mobile to his colleague and



| M y N o t e s 34

explained to her how to click. I stood besides him, trying to put on

my ‘all-time best’ smile. The clicks were silent. She asked me if it

was done. I replied “I guess so. Thanks.”

I thanked Aamir, shook hands and sat down to see the photograph.

The picture was blurred beyond recognition. “It looks like a ghost

of you and me,” I told Aamir as I showed him the photograph. I

hoped that he would oblige with one more photograph. He said

nothing. I cursed myself. ‘Why did I not get my digital camera out

of my laptop case for this one big moment?’

The Ghost Picture



| M y N o t e s 35

I pretended to be working again and wished that my phone would

ring. I had set a new ring tone just a few days back. It was the song

‘Dil Chahta Hai’. No calls. Luck just seemed to have run out.

Meanwhile, a Kingfisher executive came up to Aamir and told him

that he could board the flight when he was ready.

A few minutes later I walked out from the lounge even as Aamir

sat there. I wanted to share the excitement with my loved ones. I

called up Purvi but she did not pick up the phone. As I passed

through the security check I still kept thinking about the ghost

picture. I settled at the departure terminal and looked at the

photograph one more time. I sadly looked on; zoomed, rotated… it

still was the ghost picture. I gave up and moved to the

next photograph.

“Me and Aamir” the photograph that you see was there. She had

clicked two photographs. The ghost picture was God’s teaser.



| M y N o t e s 36

Me and Aamir

30th June, 2009



| M y N o t e s 37

3 Idiots and the Secret of “All Is Well”

Wimbledon final, year 1993, Steffi Graf v/s Jana Novotna. Steffi

Graf, one of the greatest women tennis players of all time, was the

favourite to win the championship.

At the beginning of the game, very few would have given Jana

Novotna an outside chance. But at one set all, with a 1-4 lead,

serving at 40-30, Novotna was 5 just points away from winning the

Wimbledon. Until that point Graf had won only two of the

previous 10 games. An upset was imminent. Graf looked out of

sorts. Her opponent’s game on the day was simply too good.

But then, things changed. Serving for a 1-5 lead, Novotna double

faulted. At 40-40, she missed a forehand volley. Advantage Graf.

The next shot from Novotna went into the net. The score now read

as 2-4. Graf served an easy game to make it 3-4. Novotna realised

that she had to win the next game. A loss would mean she would

have given the mighty Graf an opportunity to come back into

the match.

Graf had won the Wimbledon before – she had it in her to win

another one. For Novotna, this was her first time. The thought of

losing began to creep in. She still had one service game up her



| M y N o t e s 38

sleeve. But she double faulted on the service, not once, not twice,

but thrice and let the game slip way. She knew she had surrendered

the advantage – the score read 4-4. She became restless, jumping

up and down, moving all over the court, visibly agitated

with herself. Her body language showed that she had given up.

Novotna lost the next game at love, to make it 5-4, Graf. Now

serving to save the match, Novotna choked and Graf added yet

another Wimbledon title to her tally. Not because she won, but

because Novotna lost. After the match, Graf said, "With the way

she was playing and the way I was playing, yes, I'd kind of lost it. I

didn't give up but I didn't have a very positive feeling". It’s hard to

forget the sight of Novotna at the awards ceremony, resting her

head on the shoulders of the Duchess of Kent as she wept and wept

and wept. The Duchess, who had met Novotna several times

before, said, "Don't worry Jana. I know you can do it." It was one

of the most emotional award ceremonies in the history of the

Wimbledon.

Two years later, French Open, 1995. Third Round. Jana Novotna

v/s Chanda Rubin. The favorite this time was Novotna. At one set

all, 5-0 lead, she was poised to make it to next round. She didn’t.

She couldn’t, and probably because she remembered the



| M y N o t e s 39

Wimbledon loss to Steffi Graf. Deep within, the thought still

rankled. She knew she could lose, and she did.

Then again in 1997, Novotna lost the Wimbledon final for the

second time. This time her opponent was the 15 year old

Martina Hingis.

Think of what happened to Novotna. And now, try to remember

the time it happened to you. In private, we’ve all had our share of

Novotna experiences – during exams, at an interview or when

faced with a new challenge.

It happened to me during a university paper in the fifth semester of

chemical engineering. The subject was Heat Transfer. I was

relaxed when I browsed the question paper. I started off fairly well

- first answering the questions I was confident of. I always liked to

answer theory questions first and then the numerical problems.

About thirty minutes into the exam, I was deriving a formula for

heat transfer through a spherical surface – something which I could

have done even if woken up from the middle of sleep. On that day,

I faltered. I ended up spending much more time than I could afford

on that one question, before finally giving up. It was not long

before I realized that I would be struggling to complete the paper

in time. The confidence was gone. Suddenly, the paper appeared to



| M y N o t e s 40

be much more difficult. I started to worry about crossing the 40

mark passing.

The thought of not being able to do it or not being good enough

has caught us more than once. We console ourselves – “my worst

fears have come true”. In reality, we thought that we could fail and

we failed.

We often hear the cliché, “be positive, think positive”. It’s always

easier said than done. We’re often told how things can change just

by thinking positive – we still have to work for it, is what we say to

ourselves.

In this article, we shall realise the power of our thoughts. We shall

learn to use our thoughts to create a desired state of being, to build

self- confidence. Thoughts just don’t matter – they become matter.

The way we think affects our body and our life. As Mahatma

Gandhi said, “A man is but the product of his thoughts. What he

thinks, he becomes.”

An emerging field of science called psychoneuroimmunology

explains the connection between the mind and the body. Our

thoughts are responsible for the chemistry of the brain. Whenever

we think, we trigger a biochemical reaction in the brain. The brain

then releases chemical signals which get passed on to the body.



| M y N o t e s 41

These signals act as the messengers of the thought. Every thought

produces a chemical signature that the body recognises and

reacts to. The thoughts that cause the biochemical reaction in the

brain make our body feel exactly like the way we were thinking.

This in turn determines how we feel. We then react to the feeling,

we transmit the same message to the brain. The brain responds to

our reaction and generates the thoughts that produce the

corresponding chemical messengers. We now begin to think the

way we are feeling. Simply put, thinking causes feeling and then

feelings create thoughts—an unending cycle. This continuous loop

eventually produces a state of mind which determines how we

behave and act.

When we think of positive, inspiring thoughts, our brain produces

matter that is known as neurotransmitters. These chemicals make

us feel uplifted and inspired. Scientists have discovered that the

neurotransmitters regulate all our emotions. For example, when we

think of an experience that is pleasurable – our first date with the

girl next door, the brain instantaneously releases a neurotransmitter

called dopamine. The dopamine activates the brain and the body in

anticipation of an experience and we become excited. We feel

ecstatic. During those moments, we forget everything else, we lose

the sense of time; we are in a state of ‘bliss’.



| M y N o t e s 42

Likewise, when we have self-deprecating thoughts the brain

releases chemicals called neuropeptides, to which the body

responds in a corresponding way. The moment we think about not

being good enough, the brain releases chemicals that produce the

same feeling. We are short of self confidence and feel incapable of

achieving. This feeling in turns leads to more of the same thoughts.

Until this chain of thought is broken, the brain and the body shall

generate the same biological feedback loop resulting in a state of

mind that reinforces the thoughts of not being good enough.

Over the years, we have learned to think and respond to situations

in a certain way. As we continue to have the same thoughts

repeatedly, these conscious thoughts turn into unconscious

automated thought processes. They are like computer programs

running in the background, controlling our lives, creating patterns

of behavior that are almost involuntary. These behavioral patterns

turn into habits that become neurologically hardwired in the brain.

Conscious thoughts and actions, when repeated often, become

unconscious thinking and ways of being.

Thoughts matter: they make us what we are. Thoughts become

matter in our body – and control our state of being. Most

importantly, not all thoughts are conscious. Jana Novotna did not

want to think about losing – it was an unconscious thought, the



| M y N o t e s 43

automatic computer program in the background that allowed her to

entertain the thought of losing. Her state of being thereafter was

controlled by an auto-pilot. She was no longer in control, neither

was I after making a small mistake. We both gave in after being in

a winning position.

How then do we guard ourselves against the auto-pilot? I believe I

may have an answer.

To break this cycle of the unconscious thinking process requires a

conscious effort. To do this, we must first consciously identify,

through contemplation and self-reflection, the automatic thought

programs that run within us. Next, it requires a deliberate effort of

observing these thoughts without responding to them. In this way

we shall break the chemical responses that are responsible for our

habitual behavior, mindset and attitudes. It requires a conscious

unlearning of the attitudes and the mindset that we wish to change.

Once we have disrupted the automatic programs, we can then re-

train our mind the way we want by exercising conscious control

over our thoughts

The next time when a negative thought crops up, hold it there.

Think of what you’ve just read. Replace the negative thought by a

positive one – and now you know why. And if that is difficult to do



| M y N o t e s 44

– then just remember what the 3 Idiots had to say – “Jab life ho

out of control – bol – ALL IS WELL”.

All Is Well

P.S. – Jana Novotna finally won the Wimbledon in 1998, when she

beat Nathalie Tauziat in the final. I scored 45 in Heat Transfer.

17th April, 2010



| M y N o t e s 45

When Champions Fail

M.S.Dhoni

“The IPL is not just about cricket.

There are a lot of things happening

around it. The players must be smart

about it. They have to respect the body,

give it some time to recover because

it’s not just about playing. There have

been day-night matches, then parties,

and then early morning flights too. All

this, including the travel, takes a toll.”

That’s what M.S.Dhoni said in

justification, after India’s disastrous

performance at the T20 World Cup in

2010.

The same captain led the Chennai Super Kings to the IPL T20 win

less than three weeks before the ouster of Team India from the

World Cup. And going by his theory, whatever happened during

the IPL was what caused the World Cup disaster. These words

coming from “Captain Cool” are no more than an excuse for

failure.



| M y N o t e s 47

because it was cold. He lost others because he could not cope up

with the heat. Sometimes he was under-trained, at other times he

was over-trained. His most painful loss was to Even Lendl in the

1984 French Open. Why did he lose after leading 2 sets to nil?

According to McEnroe, it wasn’t his fault. An NBC cameraman

had taken off his headset and a noise started coming from the side

of the court.

The problem with McEnroe was that he did not accept his failure.

Worse still, he refused to learn from failures. He did not thrive on

challenges; when the going got tough, he often folded. As a result,

by his own admission he did not fulfill his potential. After his

playing days he confessed that his on-court temper tantrums were

only a cover for not playing well. Instead of finding the real

reasons for losing, he made excuses. Rather than getting the basics

right and practicing hard, he relied purely on natural talent. He was

the number one player in the world for four years – but he was a

champion who did not know how to deal with failure.

On the other hand, Michael Jordan is a great example about

success through failure. In a commercial for Nike - famous for its

failure-defying tagline “Just Do It” - Jordan says, “I’ve missed

more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games.

26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot, and



| M y N o t e s 48

missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life - and

that is why I succeeded.”

Michael Jordan wasn’t a natural talent. He was cut from the high

school varsity team. He worked hard to get back. He left his home

at six in the morning to get in some hours of practice before

school. Then at the University of North Carolina, he worked on

what he thought were his weaknesses – his defensive game, his

ball handling and shooting skills. Once, after his team lost the last

game of the season, Jordan went back to the court and practiced his

shots for hours – he had started his preparations for the next year.

He is probably one of the hardest working athletes in the history of

sport. Only once did he take it easy. It was the year he returned to

the Bulls after his stint in baseball. The Bulls were eliminated in

the play-offs. Jordan learned his lesson, “You can’t leave and think

you can come back and dominate this game. I will be physically

and mentally prepared from now on.” For the next three years, the

Chicago Bulls won the NBA title. With Michael Jordan, the

Chicago Bulls won six NBA championships. “I can accept failure,

everyone fails at something. But I can’t accept not trying,” said

Michael Jordan.

Tiger Woods commented in the 2006 Buick interview: “It’s just

experience. I’ve put myself in so many different scenarios and



| M y N o t e s 49

have been successful and have failed, and I’ve had to learn from

both. Why did I fail? Well, because of this. Why did I succeed?

Well, because of this. You have to analyse, you have to be critical,

and you have to understand that you have to take hard looks at

yourself. Over the years I’ve done that, and I think that’s one of the

reasons why I’ve been able to keep progressing through the years.

Trust me, it’s not always easy, but my father has always harped on

me, always be honest with yourself, true to yourself, look yourself

in the mirror and be honest. Some days are tougher than others.

When you know you’ve absolutely messed up, you have to admit it

and move on and learn and apply. And I’ve done that.”

This is something which the Indian cricket team could make

note of. The team didn’t train after either of the first two defeats in

the Super-8’s games. “What do we gain in a day’s practice? We

thought it would be better to take some time off and turn up fresh

for the games,” argued Dhoni. I have a lot of respect for the man

who brought us the first T20 World Cup and I wish that rather than

blaming the IPL for the World Cup failure he could have analysed

the real reasons for the failure, graciously accepted the mistakes

and took some lessons from it.

Sports can be a great teacher. These lessons are not just for the

Indian cricket team. They are for all of us. We have to learn to deal



| M y N o t e s 50

with our failures. Failures are not always bad. A failure is a pit-

stop on the journey to success. Failure is feedback. Failure shows

what doesn’t work. Failure tells us that something needs to be

fixed. Failure has a positive power. It teaches us that we learn, we

can survive, go on, and discover talents previously hidden. Most

importantly - failure humbles. It reminds us that we are not

supermen but human beings who will some day fall to ground.

Failure is so painful that it almost guarantees that we won’t make

the same mistakes again. When we fail, we are at the bottom. We

have nothing more to lose. The only place to go is up. The golfer

Bobby Jones said, “I never learned anything from a match I won.”

He respected defeat and he profited from it.

The only problem is that we as human beings perceive failure as an

identity. That’s because, “I failed to…” is perceived as “I am a

failure”. As a result, most people fear failure. Failure is not an

identity; it is only a judgment about an event. What matters is how

we cope with failure. It’s important to be able to forget the pain of

failure while retaining the lessons from it.

“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising every time

we fall,” - Confucius

13th

May, 2010



| M y N o t e s 51

The DC Disaster

While attending a conference at Washington-DC, Anuj a good

friend who lived in Seattle, visited us in State-College,

Pennsylvania. This was in January 2001; I was in my first year of

MS at The Pennsylvania State University. After an enjoyable

weekend with us it was time for Anuj to return to the conference.

Not wanting to drive back alone (it took about four hours from

State College to DC), he suggested that Atin and I join him. A free

ride to the Capital of USA and stay in the luxurious Hilton hotel

lured us into the offer. We roped in Vishal our other roommate

since we required someone to drive us back to State College.

Atin and I had never driven in America until then.

On reaching DC we returned the car Anuj had rented and asked for

a one-way rental to State-College. That’s when it began to go

wrong. “No one-way rentals”, “Under 25, Sorry”, “No rentals on

international-driving-permit,” were the response we got from car

rental agencies. In the two hours that we searched, we must have

enquired at over 10 rentals. We travelled from one rental to another

by bus, metro and at times even requested rental companies to

drive us to their competitor. Seeing our plight they obliged. We



| M y N o t e s 52

finally succumbed and gave up our hunt for the night. We decided

to rent a car for local sightseeing and leave our worries to the next

morning.

After a night ride of the city, we parked the car on the street

adjacent to the hotel because we couldn’t afford the hotel parking

rate of 20$. Tired and hungry, we sneaked into the hotel room one

by one. We thought the hotel would charge us more if they saw

four of us together. At about mid-night we called for pizzas to be

delivered at the hotel.

The pizza guy arrived at 2:30 a.m.! By then sleep had beat hunger

and all except me had gone to sleep. And after returning the pizzas

I too went to sleep.

Our plans for the next morning had been already made; we had to

move our car from the street by 6 am else it would be towed.

We were late by fifteen minutes. “Good morning friends,” a

friendly cop greeted us with a 20$ parking ticket in his hand. The

adventures for the day had just begun. We bid Anuj good bye and

started our tour of the city.



| M y N o t e s 53

Atin – In Search for a Car

After the city tour we forgot the hardships of the previous night.

We found out that we could return to State College by the

Greyhound Bus Service. For three people it turned out to be more

expensive than a car rental. With no options and the little money

we had in our pockets we bought the bus tickets for State College.

We needed to get back in time for our teaching assistantship

assignments the next morning.

We still had to return the local-rental car. As we drove past the

busy streets of Washington DC, a huge sign-board greeted us,

“Welcome to Virginia”. We had lost our way! We kept searching



| M y N o t e s 54

for an angel who would tell us the way back to DC but never found

one. By the time we returned the car and reached the bus station

the bus had already left. To our despair, we realised that we were

early for the next bus. And that would be there in a little less than

24 hours!

Out of money, gas and sleep we somehow managed to get back to

the Hilton for some rest. Sitting in the grand lobby of the Hilton

with no hard cash we worried over our options of getting back to

State College. We requested a friend from State College to come to

DC for pick up. He said he would revert. By then, Anuj returned

from the conference and was shocked to see us. He chuckled when

we narrated the events of the day to him. He knew the solution to

our problem, “I’ll drive you guys back!” he volunteered. He drove

us back to State College that night and returned to DC the next

morning in time to attend the conference. This time he took the

ride back alone.

Eight years have passed but the events of those 24 hours are still

etched in my memory. It couldn’t have gone more wrong than

it did.

10th

May, 2009



M y N o t e s 55

The Organization and Its People

This note dates back to Oct 1998. I had written this for the monthly bulletin of Gharda Chemicals, where I worked from Oct 1998 to May 2000. The article was rated as the best contribution that month. “The Organization and its People”. The topic seemed to be

pretty difficult until the realisation that we are talking about

you, me and the chap who sits next to our work place. We are

talking about the GHARDA FAMILY, the family each one of

us belongs to. To know the family we need to know the

people, the members of the family, their behaviour and their

habits. The following is a sincere attempt to list out, based on

detailed observations, the different personalities you come

across in an organisation.

Let us start on a positive note and talk about the

SUPERMAN. He seems to be capable of doing everything.

Impossible is a word that does not exist in his dictionary. He

always reaches the right place at the right time. People always

search for him in times of trouble, for his ability to set things



M y N o t e s 56

right, to make things happen. There is place for him

everywhere. He inspires, he motivates and he reminds you of

Sachin Tendulkar because you know there is always hope as

long as he is there (batting or bowling). He is the greatest

asset to the organisation, a treasure. But let me caution you

for you will always come across men who talk about their

super human abilities. For one, they will give you an

impression that nothing will work in their absence. And the

other, they keep boasting of their achievements. Remember

talkers need not necessarily be doers.

How often have you said “ Kaun kehata hai ke Hitler mar

gaya?” (Who says Hitler is dead?) After all you see him

every day, right in front of you. Are yaar, tumhare us wale

boss ki baat kar raha hoon. (My dear friend, I am referring to

your boss) When he talks you better listen or else you’ve had

it. He always seems to follow you, especially so when you’re

trying to get away from him. You are never spared, not even

in your dreams, a hyperbole perhaps, but by now I guess you

know what we are talking about. You love to hate him,

don’t you?

Don’t ponder too much on Hitler. Now just close your eyes

and think of the young chap who just joined the organisation.



M y N o t e s 57

“Why does he ask so many questions? Especially those

stupid ones,” is what you often wonder. He certainly does it

(I know it because I do it too) for he is always in a hurry to

know things. He’s young, enthusiastic (and what not) and

you like the way he addresses you as SIR. This fellow is the

future of the organisation, so please lend him a helping hand.

Then there is the DRONACHARYA. This wonderful teacher

never fails to inspire you, for he sees in you his ARJUN, his

blue-eyed boy. The generous master gifts you all his

knowledge and shares his experience but not without his

GURU-DAKSHINA. He expects commitment, sincerity,

honesty and dedication, a small fee by any standards. But it

often appears that the Dronacharyas and the Arjuns are extinct

species. Instead you have people who would always teach

you all the wrong things and GOD only knows why.

Though unfortunate, an organisation also has its share of the

infectious lot. They have a corrupting influence on the

organisation. They lack enthusiasm, motivation, willingness

to work and all this has a very high coefficient of induction.

Keep away from them. They can be deadlier than the

deadliest of viruses.



M y N o t e s 58

Besides the above there are several other people. There is this

old guy who has seen it all. He always has a serious look on

his face and one never hears him talk (his gray hair does the

talking). But all he needs is a slightest of the stimulus and he

will narrate to you stories of those who came and those who

went and why he was still there (I admire his patience). Then

there is the naughty guy and his practical jokes, the quiet

fellow and the big talker, the ever smiling bubbly guy, the

pretty woman (inspiration to many), the big lady (daily

newspaper of the organisation) and many more.

The organization needs all of you. After all, VARIETY IS

THE SPICE OF LIFE.

My Organization- Unique Mixers & Furnaces ,

Unimix Equipments - Staff Picnic 2007



M y N o t e s 59

To Mom & Dad

I wrote this letter to Mom and Dad on their 23rd Wedding Anniversary, in 1999. The preceding six months were stressful and our family went through an emotional period. My grandmother lost her battle with cancer on 14 th July 1998. My grandpa passed away on 3 rd January, 1999.

Mom & Dad



M y N o t e s 60

Congratulations on your 23rd wedding anniversary. Your

marriage is still young, only a year older than me. Two of you

have a long way to go, and please don’t forget to take me

along.

Today I have decided not to stop myself and my emotions and

wish to speak my mind freely. I wish to speak from my heart,

something which I have not always done.

Thank you for all that you have given me over the past 22

years: your love, affection and everything else. You have

always stood by me, in good and bad times. Your advice has

always been most valuable, your encouragement has been an

inspiration, and your values have been the guiding principles

of my life. You have taught me how to respect elders and love

younger ones. Observing the two of you in last six months, I

have learnt a lot about what elders mean to the children and

this made me realise how important the two of you are in my

life. I love you.

I have been rude at times but you have always forgiven me. I

may have disobeyed but you have forgotten. I have made

mistakes and you have always corrected me. I am lucky to

have parents like you.



M y N o t e s 61

Today I have started earning and I am sure you must be proud

of it. I have only to thank you and all our family members for

the position I am in. I am presenting a small gift from my

earned income but it means a lot to me. No gift can and will

ever compensate all that I have received from you over the

years but still I would feel good when I see a smile on your

face. Thank you.

Wishing you a great anniversary,

Your only One

Sonu.

24th January, 1999



M y N o t e s 62

World, My Son Starts School Today By Abraham Lincoln

World, take my child by the hand – he starts school today!

Maahir’s First Day to School, 18th June, 2009

It is all going to be strange and new to him for a while and I

wish you would sort-of treat him gently. You see, up to now,

he has been king of the roost. He has been the boss of the

backyard. I've always been around to repair his wounds and

I've always been handy to soothe his feelings.



M y N o t e s 63

But now things are going to be different. This morning he is

going to walk down the front steps, wave his hand, and start

on a great adventure that probably will include wars and

tragedy and sorrow.

To live in this world will require faith and love and courage.

So world, I wish you would sort-of take him by his young

hand and teach him the things he will have to know. Teach

him, but gently if you can.

He will have to learn, I know that all people are not just, that

all man and women are not true.

Teach him that for every scoundrel, there is a hero; that for

every enemy, there is a friend. Let him learn early that the

bullies are the easiest people to lick.

Teach him the wonder of books.

Give him quiet time to ponder the eternal mystery of birds in

the sky, bees in the sun and flowers on a green hill.



M y N o t e s 64

Teach him that it is far more honourable to fail than to cheat.

Teach him to have faith in his own ideas, even if everyone

tells he is wrong.

Try to give my son the strength not to follow the crowd when

everyone else is getting on the bandwagon.

Teach him to listen to others, but to filter all he hears on a

screen of truth and to take only the good that comes through.

Teach him never to put a price tag on his heart and soul.

Teach him to close his ears on the howling mob - and to stand

and fight if he thinks he is right.

Teach him gently, World, but do not coddle him because only

the test of fire makes fine steel.

This is a big order, World, but see what you can do. He is

such a nice son.



M y N o t e s 65

Memoirs

Daddy& Badi Mummy with Papa, Atam Uncle,

Lala Uncle, Pappukaka & Champa Didi

With Badi Mummy & Daddy



M y N o t e s 66

Childhood Days



M y N o t e s 67

Tekchandaney Family on Honey & Mayur’s Wedding,

8th Nov, 2009

Mom & Shourya's Birthday Celebration on 21st April, 2010



M y N o t e s 68

Jashnani Family on 17th Dec, 2003

Shah Family on 17th Dec, 2003



M y N o t e s 69

Friends Forever: Jayesh, Amit, Vivek, Mitesh, Sachin

TSEC – Chemical Friends: 1998 Batch



M y N o t e s 70

Penn State EDOG Lab – 2002

Graduation Day, December, 2002 ,

Nanda, Stella, Smita, Jayesh



M y N o t e s 71

Valentine's Day, 1995

Wedding Celebrations, 2003



M y N o t e s 72

Wedding Day: 17th December, 2003



M y N o t e s 73

Maahir's Birth: 14th Feb, 2006

Maahir’s First Friends: L-R: Krish, Jyot, Viyaa, Maahir



M y N o t e s 74

Friends Forever: Bharat Uncle & Dad (The Founders of

Unique Group) with Balraj Uncle

Learning from the Master: L-R: Vinod, Jay, Jayesh,

Prajapati with Bharat Uncle



M y N o t e s 75

With Nisha & Vivek: After Completing 21 km Mumbai

Marathon on 17th Jan 2010

With Jay, Ruta, Viyaa: On Vacation, June 2010



M y N o t e s 76

If I have seen far,

it is because

I have stood on the shoulders of giants.

web version - my notes - jayesh tekchandaney-17 december

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