No Matter What I Do...

possible!

Acknowledgements

A BOOK IN ITSELF IS MADE WHEN HUNDREDS OF WORDS PUT their effort together and each word becomes irreplaceable. That’s exactly how each person in a writer’s life adds to the writing experience. Starting with my parents, this book, or perhaps anything that I ever do in my life, is not possible without their endless and selfless support. They are my inspiration.

My grandparents, my family and my little cousins have been as excited for my writing as I have been. Giving me my space, always; it is difficult to be with a writer. The biggest reason that I can write with an open mind is my supportive and motivating family. If at all any book of mine has become a book from a manuscript, it’s because of the endless support from them.

My childhood friends have been a great support, even when the book was prioritised above them at times. Thanks for not being nagging and the endless reviews, suggestions and chatter.

A special thanks to Miranda House that has given me an altogether new perspective. The beauty of the college lies in its independence. A big thanks to my teachers and friends in Miranda for helping me with reviews and synopsis.

Thanks to my office folks for being helpful and supportive. Every conversation regarding my writing means a lot to me.

I would also like to thank my Mithaas family, the little kids with whom I work. I thank each one of them for adding positivity to my life.

Srishti publishers has been supportive throughout, and my deepest gratitude to the team there. ‘Thanks a ton,’ as my editor says (wink).

Prologue

MOUNTAINS – WHAT DO THEY REMIND YOU OF?

Calmness, tranquil breezes, serenity and a few days away from the hectic life of the city, right?

Urban landscapes are to a great extent responsible for the turbulence inside one’s mind. Trust me if you will, the pace of a metro megacity completely exhausts you. There’s just one word – run! Right from the first ray of the sun till the beam of the moon – run.

And it becomes all the more runn-atic when a person like me believes,

‘Late to bed, early to rise, makes one work wise.’

And when twenty-four hours seem like twelve, then this saying is what I apply to myself. But, my grand mum always says, ‘Excess of anything, howsoever positive, is dangerous.’ my routine too, had become haphazard and monotonous. Every day – get up, get ready, get running, get going, come back, eat, watch tv, flirt with a few stories and sleep. A break was a must. And when I say must, trust me, it was absolutely – a must.

The world was just too complicated for me to stay for a few more minutes. Saturation points – they keep coming and going, don’t they?

And so, throwing in a few pairs of shorts and t-shirts and my laptop into my bag, I decided to take the first bus to the hills. Why the hills, you might ask. The answer is simple – magnetic attraction.

After having visited Bharatpur and Mahabaleshwar, it was to be Nahaan this time.

What is Nahaan? Where is Nahaan? Why Nahaan?

A small town in the hills of Uttarakhand, Nahaan is not much known. Small places are left in the darkness of ambiguities at times. But, somewhere, I personally believe that small and unexploited landscapes are usually the places of self-interaction – it’s where your conscience wants to open up and talk to you – free of all boundaries created by the world.

Ever happened with you, I wonder?

It was a similar journey for me. With a bag packed with excitement and thrill, I was all set to explore the hills of Nahaan. As the bus moved swiftly through the curves and angles of the hills, I started breathing serenity – such that I never felt before.

Wonder what the magic was.

Calm breezes brushed my face through the window. I deeply inhaled the air which was pure and uncontaminated with the materialistic pursuits of the brain.

And lo! Breathing the calm air, I never realized that the bus had reached Nahaan. I was to stay at one of our distant relatives’ house. They had come to receive me and I could see them waving at me. I waved enthusiastically at my partners in crime.

Obvious a guess, is it not? My cousins!

As I got down, we shouted, screamed and marked the moment of our meeting with hugs and laughter. Until, one of them suggested, Let’s go home and relax.

Definitely not. Who sits at home when it was drizzling and misty outside! I turned down the idea and forbade anyone from returning home.

Magnetic attraction towards the woods, I assume!

And as always, domination helped me in convincing everyone to accompany me to the woods. I had heard a lot about them, thought why not explore a little?

Soon, we parked the car and walked towards the woods. As we walked ahead, the drizzle made space through the heavy fog. With every step that we took, the fog started building thick walls around us. While moving, we noticed hearts and arrows scribbled on trees. Lovers point, my cousin pointed out.

We laughed in accord. But as my gang of cousins walked calmly, I don’t know how and why, my feet started rushing towards the extreme left of the woods. The scenery was magnetizing and I was getting attracted towards the picturesque landscape. I didn’t realize that I was losing contact with my cousins.

I kept walking and knitting a new story with the observations that I was making.

Stories were my date on such trips!

And dating one such story in my head, I didn’t realize that I was far away from the world of people. I was alone and isolated amidst the beautiful landscapes. I walked towards the mist and the fog and ambiguities as they kept attracting me. I stood firm at one end of the woods which was succeeded by the depth of the hills. And strangely, I just kept looking blankly at the clouds. The breeze was rushing by while making the dry leaves dance and make creepy crackling sounds. I was all alone.

I felt a tap on my right shoulder. I turned immediately.

And you expect a ghost in a white sari? Old horror movies do that to our imagination.

Well…

A girl dressed in a denim short dress stood behind me. She gave me a bright smile. Her face was innocent and her eyes started narrating some details of an unsaid story already. She asked, wiping away my thoughts about her presence, Too fond of stories, aren’t you?

Haila! I meet a girl three minutes ago and she knows I love stories. Sounds a little strange, doesn’t it?

I kept staring at her – blankly. Just as a child stares at the teacher.

Remember, when you had no answer to your teacher’s question? Yeah! Just that.

The girl, like the smirking teacher gave me an ‘I-know everything’ expression. I don’t know why, but I felt like talking to her, knowing more about her and knowing about the story that she had in her heart, which her eyes had already started to narrate. And I – like a little kid, eager to know more about her, kept staring and listening to her as she started to narrate her first encounter with fate…

PS: My expression was more like a crazy cricket fan watching a crucial over in a match and as she started, I exclaimed on the fours and sixes, as I do when I watch a match with Dad at home. Ah, as always, I just can’t stop comparing life with my favourite sport!

Well, the story was much like a nail-biting match, indeed.

Board meetings are supposed to be boring. Are they?

3:30 p.m.

23 April 2013

Conference Room, SVS Medical College, Bhopal

MRS KHANNA, WE ALL HAVE IMMENSE RESPECT FOR YOU IN our hearts, but that cannot stop us from questioning your decision this time, said Mr Kumar. The head of administration and management in the SVS Institutions, Mr Kumar had been associated with the SVS group for the past seven years. He had never stood against any decision earlier, but played tunes of a rebel today.

He continued in his heavy voice, Pardon me for my arguments, madam, but the decisions you took in the past were genuine, unlike today’s.

Another senior doctor, who sat with a taut and expressionless face added, Absolutely, ma’am. The love for your son has compelled you to take a partial decision like this.

The dignified lady reclined on her armchair. She studied the faces sitting opposite her. Dissatisfaction and annoyance was evidently visible. However, ‘Decisions, she thought, were the accumulation of permutations and combinations.’ Once taken, she didn’t want to think much about them. She was the owner and the major shareholder of SVS group of Medical Institutions, Bhopal.

Since 1988, she had parted with every joy in life to live this particular joy. She had sacrificed a huge chunk of happiness for her institute. She closely knew every brick of the college and had been constantly observant about the hospital.

And success had finally come to her. SVS was one of the best private institutions of the country today. And somewhere, Mrs Suhasini Khanna knew that if she could revive the institute from nowhere to the state it was now, she could certainly take the correct decisions even today. She was very stubborn about her decisions; perhaps an anarchist as well. And this was a fact which everyone sitting in the conference room knew already. She simply heard all the complaints and suggestions, after which she patiently waited for everyone to finish.

However, one voice which startled her was of Arun, her elder son. Mom, I am a doctor earning lakhs in London. I am elder to Kushank and I deserve the chair. I thought you called me back to lead our business. But your decision shocks me.

Politics! Have you ever wondered how lice swiftly pass from one’s head to another? Just a matter of spending some time together and in no time, you’ll find the pest crawling in your hair too. Very similar to what is popularly known as politics. One might try to resist, yet one’s surroundings can certainly affect one. And pests don’t ask for your permission before entering your life, do they? Negativity is no different.

Arun was ambitious and his pride was clearly evident as he argued. Mrs Khanna was hurt. Any mother would be. She knew it was the pride and money which was speaking for Arun and not her upbringing. Still, she kept quiet. She wasn’t a green horse. She knew that her decisions could make relations sour, but relations don’t make institutions work, profit does.

Mr Das, a senior cardiologist spoke adamantly during the meeting, Mrs Suhasini, you want a twenty-seven-year-old novice to lead all of us and tell us how to work? Madam, you must have invested your money in SVS, but even we have invested our time and devotion to take SVS to newer heights. Is this what we get for being loyal employees for the last twenty years?

His words were ringing with ego, self-gratification and arrogance. Mrs Khanna undoubtedly acknowledged the fact that her team of doctors and professors had helped her sail forward. SVS had faced tough times initially and it was the core team which prevented it from sinking during the hard times. However, she could not agree to the fact that her decisions were being questioned, perhaps for the first time, and with such harsh words. She wasn’t used to it.

The whole conflict, as it was clearly visible was that of position and power. Mrs Khanna, who had been the sole trustee of SVS, had decided to retire and transfer the responsibility of the college and hospital to her younger son, Kushank. It was indeed a strange choice when she chose Kushank over Arun. Arun was a doctor, and a good leader as well. His mother knew it.

On the other hand, Kushank didn’t understand medicine; he was fond of business and management. He had a marketing brain. He ran an It company along with his friend in Delhi which worked in app creation. Mrs Khanna was aware of the fact that Kushank liked working behind the lens where he just had to brainstorm marketing policies and sign on a few papers. He was afraid of leadership. In fact, he was under-confident to handle leadership. Despite all this, Mrs Khanna chose him to be the head of SVS. The choice was indeed atypical and therefore the ensuing chaos.

Anything apart from the usual creates strong waves in the ocean, after all.

Mr Kumar added, Ma’am, forget about us, but think about your hospital. Ever since Kushank has started working, he has brought so many absurd ideas to the table. In the previous month, he admitted thirteen patients who were short on advance. In addition to it, he suggests loan payments. If this remains the graph, your business will run into bankruptcy one day.

Absolutely correct. In fact, Suhasini ji, why don’t you transfer all your responsibilities to Arun? he is certainly a better choice between both your sons, suggested one of the senior doctors loudly.

Arun’s chest had broadened by a few inches, his expression turned more proud. Mr Das agreed, Yes ma’am. Kushank doesn’t have any experience and that is why he comes up with such childish ideas. he is a kid. Arun is perfect for the position.

As everyone finally gave a break to their endless complaints about Kushank and her decision, Mrs Khanna got up gracefully and started to walk out of the conference hall, without addressing anyone. Arun asked nervously, knowing his mother’s temper, "Maa, we…"

Mrs Suhasini sharply replied to all the questioning eyes, giving a stern look to Arun, expressing her anger, "Thank you everybody for your suggestions, but knowing me well, you should have known that I believe in thinking before taking a decision. The meeting is over."

And she walked outside the conference hall. Arun was left gaping at his mother’s ‘insensitive’ behaviour. However, it wasn’t new to him. He had seen his mother being stubborn about her decisions – both personal and professional. He left disgusted.

On the other hand, Kushank was composed. He wasn’t in the meeting, but he knew what the meeting was all about. The twenty-seven-year-old was smart and disciplined. He was still working earnestly, trying his best to understand the work. He was quietly looking at some reports from the hospital when he received an email.

It was admission time in SVS Medical College and being the new trustee, Kushank had introduced an email id which could connect him with the students.

I told you he had innovative ideas.

He had done this in his corporate office as well, to connect better with his employees. One email had just entered his inbox. It was written by an Amaira Roy.

Just then, Mrs Khanna walked inside his cabin. Kushank knew from her expressions that the meeting had been exhausting. He was aware that board members were not fond of him. He asked, sitting beside his mother on the couch, Am I being too harsh or perhaps too...utopian, maa?

Self-doubt enters through constant criticism if self-confidence is dicey. In the past fifty days, Kushank had seen everyone unhappy with his working style and being the submissive self that he was, he certainly had doubts about his work. In Delhi, he gained confidence bit by bit as his decisions were innovative and profit oriented. But in Bhopal, that confidence was shaking. He had a desperate urge to go back to his world, where he wouldn’t have to handle so many people.

The only herb that could cure his self-deterioration was his mother’s trust.

Trust, they say, is a perfect medication for doubt.

Mrs Khanna knew that the journey was tough for Kushank, but she also knew that this journey could transform him. She explained, Kush beta, fear is the only hurdle that you need to jump over. Be confident of what you are doing and stay strong. I trust your ideas and you know that I trust potential and not relations. Be correct and I’ll stand by you always.

A mother is the only force which can re-shape, re-bond and rebuild her child. One word of appreciation from the mother brings a plethora of positivity in life, and her support – well that’s the priceless gift she provides us with. Kushank felt much stronger.

Kushank was a successful IIM graduate and was best comfortable in the corporate world. However, he had left behind his comfort zone for his mother. Mrs Suhasini had shown immense confidence in him and he could not let her down. He changed his world for his mother. Though Kushank knew handling the institute along with his own company was impossible, he didn’t have the courage to leave his dream