MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

“Ami Bohu Bahsonaye Pranponey Chai
Bonchito Korey Banchaley Morey”
“Many are the deep desires of the heart, depriving me from them has Thou saved me ..”. Rabindranath Tagore
As I woke up on a typical monsoon morning in Mumbai and sluggishly got ready to face another day in office, the thought suddenly occurred to me as to whether in my wildest of dreams could I have ever imagined doing what my current profession is.
Although brought up in a conservative environment in a cocooned atmosphere, my indomitable imagination knew no barriers and at various stages of my adolescence, I envisaged pursuing varied occupations for a livelihood, in reality ending up not getting anywhere near.
No specific reasons for my abject failure in pursuing my dreams; some attributable to extraneous factors like cost; some as all of us prefer to allude to mere ‘bad luck’; but most failures are a result of my lethargy and well chronicled habit of procrastination.
“Ami Kebol-i Shopono Korechhi Bopono Batashey
Tai Akasho Kushumo Korinu Choyono Hotashey”
“I have built castles in the air and pursued futile dreams in desperation…” Rabindranath Tagore
Soaring High Above the Heavens- In a Seven Forty Seven- Commercial Pilot
Lines from a Susan Ray song, but for me had a magnetic effect. Yes, wanting to be a commercial pilot was a secret ambition I nurtured for several years of my life till my tryst with reality. By the time I had come of age to pursue a career in flying, I found out that the expense involved was mercurial and even my considerably affluent background would not be adequate to meet the financial challenges. Not that I received too much of support from home; my professor grandfather did not even entertain the proposition for discussion and my central government executive father put the topic aside with as much alacrity as he would have put numerous junk files in his office.
The end result is that the world never got to hear the words “Captain Anindya Chaudhuri is in command”. :-)
Even today, after more than 100 official air trips and almost an equal number of personal ones; my heart skips a beat as I board an aircraft. From the tarmac, I try to catch a glimpse of the men in the cockpit and wish if I could be one of them.
Not to be let down by my dreams remaining unfulfilled; I sometimes end up speeding along the highway in my car, my humble way of experiencing the feeling of a pre- take off speed build up .
MIG for A-320- Fighter Pilot with the IAF
After a decent graduation with a first class in Statistics Honours from Calcutta University; my wings clamoured for the skies and I seriously deliberated with the idea of joining the IAF through CDS ( Combined defence Service Examination) or more charismatically put, I wanted to become a fighter pilot.
Almighty had blessed me with the physical pre-requisites in abundance but had never endowed me with the adequate courage and boldness required to defy my elders and go ahead in persuasion of my dreams.
As if to complicate matters; my father often quoted the example of one of his acquaintances who joined the Air Force but ended up in a tragic accident in a ‘sortie’, spending the rest of his life in a wheelchair, far from the battlefield.
The moral of the story is very simple- most of us prefer to sing “Janaganamana  Adhinayaka Joyo Hey “in the drawing room; not on a battlefield.
Almighty had other designs; so instead of CDS; it was ISI (not the one across the border though :-) ).
A First Class Masters Degree from ISI   followed by a cushy job in Citibank completely bound me to the pleasures on the ground rather than inspire me to pursue the ones off it.
So that is how, the flight never took off.
Managing A Tea Estate- Manager
I remember going to one of the Tea Estates for an invitation lunch with my father during his posting in Assam. The experience for me was breathtaking. The manager and his wife had a lavish bungalow with three to four bedrooms, each of the size of a small flat in Mumbai ably assisted by an army of ten odd servants; three cars with two for official use and one for personal; a small tennis court, a swimming pool and a garden that would put many of the Mumbai gardens to shame. As if all the above was not enough; the entire region was blessed with a beautiful climate; so typical of the forests of the North East.
In my imaginations; I pictured the manager going after man eating leopards and tigers; very similar to what we get to read in the Jim Corbett and Kenneth Anderson stories.
I had made up my mind; this had to be it. I wanted to be the manager of a tea estate. My father did not worry much about this proposition; he knew that it was impossible for me to be anywhere in the vicinity of a tea estate, forget becoming a manager.
Even today I Google on job sites trying to find if I can get anything similar but that remains a futile pursuit 
That is one ambition I still harbour; a thought I still ruminate over every cup of tea that I have on a rainy afternoon in Mumbai.
“Ekla Boshey Badol Diney Bhabi Koto Ki
 Ebar Amar Jabar Pala Boley Ketoki”
“Aimlessly my thoughts wander on a rainy afternoon as the screw pine flower prepares for its impending departure” Rabindranath Tagore
Born Free Syndrome- Wild Life Conservationist
One of my all time favourite films childhood was Born Free- while other youngsters may have been more interested in the Julia Roberts or Sharon Stones of the world; I watched Born Free over and over. For me the ultimate bliss was a job of a wildlife conservationist.
To that extent; I have even enrolled for a society that does lot of work in Africa on wild animals.
Most of these projects are self funded. Now I have the money but I do not have the time.
It would not be out if place to argue that my passion may have been triggered also by reading “Chander Pahaar” by late Bibhutibhushan Bandyopadhyay where the protagonist Shankar, a country lad finds himself in the land of the lions when he takes up a job in Uganda. However, given my well publicised fear of  domestic animals ranging from dogs to rats; my detractors would argue that this is a classical  case of insanity.
As Boman Irani said of some Abbas Bhai in Munna Bhai MBBS –  I would argue that a lion is an animal “of principles”, not an unscrupulous creature like a field rat.
Not quite sure if I will ever get to this mission but if I do; I will be the happiest person on earth.

Retrospection
I would not like to believe that thoughts on any of the above professions which I wanted to pursue were absurd. However, on hindsight, I feel that most of these desired professions had one common point – that they were unconventional.
We grew up in a very conservative atmosphere. In our times; the thought was ingrained in us that one had to be a doctor, engineer or accountant in order to ensure a basic security. Benchmark of success was getting a good job in a good company with a decent salary; ensuring a decent standard of living and so on; all aimed at minimising the element of risk.
Society is changing; so also people’s outlook towards life is changing. Alternative professions are becoming the order of the day. Kids of today have started looking at different avenues which we could not have dared to explore.
Even today’s parents have become more daring and flexible as far as their children are concerned- may be the financial support that they already enjoy is driving this flexibility. Young mothers have started believing that their sons can be Sachin Tendulkar or AR Rahman or Mani Ratnam.
My father always used to say that it is natural for Rohan Gavaskar to be a cricketer or Saikat Mitra to be a singer- true to say that they did enjoy a genetic advantage.
However, come to think of it; neither was Rahul Dravid from a cricketing background nor did Rathindranath Tagore become a poet.
Nonetheless, yes, I think one profession that has still remained elusive to the middle class is flying ( at least, I feel so and would be happy to stand corrected if otherwise)
Also, one more thing I feel about our systems and society is that it is too rigid, We need to bring in more flexibility- why should an engineer not be allowed to learn medicine at the age of 50 if he meets all the medical criteria?
I do not lament that I could never become one of the above- may be I was not destined for the same. I am happy with what I have achieved, not complacent though.
There are lots more I would love to do- only time will say if I can.
But till the last day of my life, the above four options will remain my most cherished ones
To close again with Tagore
“Joboney Joto Puja Holo Na shara
Jaani Hey Jaani Tao Hoyeni Hara
Je  Phool Na Phutitey Jhorilo Dhoronitey
Je Nodi Moru Pothey Haralo Dhara-
 Jaani He jaani Tao Hoyeni Hara”
“Nothing in life is a waste; be it the stream that dried into the sand or the flower that did not bloom. Every event in life has a purpose and hence woven by the Almighty”  Rabindranath Tagore

Lords

28^th April 2012- Lord’s
The day began with the heavens pouring but for me it had to be a special day of my life. After the customary sumptuous buffet breakfast; I decided to proceed to Lords, the Mecca of cricket; the place every cricketing buff like me dreams of visiting at least once in a lifetime.
Walked to Knightsbridge Station; took the Piccadilly Line train to Green Park and then the Jubilee Line train to St John’s Wood. Amidst the downpour, I began my walk down to Lords with the eagerness of a devotee visiting a temple.
As I entered the ground through the Grace Gate, I was almost in a trance. Everything in this country is well organised; so I had no hesitation in taking a conducted tour of Lords for only GBP 15/-. Our guide, a solicitor by profession, seemed more interested in cricket than any one I have seen in my life.
Just so you know my dear reader, we were a group of ten comprising six Australians, three localites and yours truly holding the Indian tri-colour. During the course of our tour, scheduled for an hour and forty minutes, our guide asked many quiz questions and most humbly as I may state, I was the only person who gave all the answers, and correct ones at that.
Give me a pat on my back, if you like; the guide remarked jocularly that my tour fees should have been waived off but unfortunately that cannot be done.
First we stopped at the long room on the ground floor of the pavilion; a 90 feet room where nearly 600 people can sit. This is where the members enjoy a drink as they watch a test match. It has big glass windows for the audience who do not have to withstand the chill of the weather and yet can watch the match from the ground level. The long room has two doors; one opening to the ground and the other to the staircase. I dare not say this is the stairway to heaven - every time a wicket falls, the new batsman walks down the staircase, through the members in the long room and into the field and the dismissed batsmen takes the way back (imagine the plight of someone who is out for a duck and has to take the walk back this way no sooner than he arrived in the middle).
For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what was going on in the mind of a young lad of 24 as he took a walk along this path to the middle on that ‘summer of 96’-the walk that heralded the arrival of the ‘Prince of Calcutta’ – the beginning of a generation of ‘Dadagiri’; the birth of a man who was to script Indian cricket history in his own way.
 I also tried to imagine the feeling of another 24 year old Indian as he held aloft the Prudential World Cup on 25^th June 1983 on the balcony of the pavilion; Kapil Dev and his team had destroyed the mighty Caribbean team at this venue and shook the whole world.
We may have won the World Cup for the second time; but to the present genre who have watched the game on 25^th June 1983- 2^nd April 2011 will never be as captivating or enthralling as the earlier one. It is like first love- which never fades.
From the long room we proceeded to the dressing room.  As one goes up the stairs; to the right is the home dressing room where we went first. Our enthusiastic guide was eager to show us where Andrew Strauss sits to where Kevin Pietersen sits and which window was accidentally broken after the bat ‘slipped’ from Matt Prior’s hand in the recently held India England test match. There are huge wooden boards containing the names of English players who have hit a century in any test match at Lords or have taken 5 wickets in an innings or 10 in a match. Ian Botham is the only person to have his name in both the batsmen’ and bowler’s lists and also holds the record for the best bowling figures in an innings by an Englishman at Lords. No wonder, one of his fellow cricketers and then skipper of England had asked him after one of his numerous superlative performances “who writes your scripts”? 
From the home dressing room we proceeded to the visitors’ dressing room. Here the boards had many familiar names that evoked lot of sentiments for me; most notably Dilip Vengsarkar with three entries for his three centuries at Lords; Saurav Ganguly for his debut century; Mohammed Azharuddin for his hundred in 1990-91; Rahul Dravid for the century at the twilight of his career and even Ajit Agarkar for that blitzkrieg hundred of his. Kapil Dev figured in the list of successful bowlers for his 5 wicket haul in the 1982 series.
Interestingly, the legendary Sunil Gavaskar had never scored a century for India in any test at Lords; he scored 188 for Rest of the World against MCC in the Bicentenary Test match and so figures in the list.
As one went through the records; it was surprising that some of the greatest cricketers of our era do not figure in the list. Two of the greatest batsmen of modern times have never scored a hundred in Lords- Sachin Tendulkar and Brian Lara;  so haven’t Clive Lloyd and Javed Miandad; while among bowlers, the most notable missing names are Dennis Lillee, Shane Warne and Imran Khan, arguably the best all-rounder of his times.
I went out to the balcony and sat at the cement bench from which Sourav Ganguly had waived his shirt to the whole world- passion on his sleeves.
We were also shown the Ashes, kept in a small urn surrounded by a glass case, but insured for a few billion pounds. While our guide passionately spoke of the Ashes duels, I was in a pensive mood thinking of the Prudential World Cup. Probably our guide read my thoughts and so he specifically took me to see the Prudential Cup which we had won in 1983 but now adorns the Lords’ museum. As any other Indian; I felt very emotional as I watched the Prudential Trophy on the balcony of the museum.
Photography is prohibited in both the pavilion and the museum; so we trudged along to the newly designed media box which gave us a fantastic view of the ground and the adjoining stands.
As the tour got over, I took the walk out through the Grace Gate, filled with a sense of accomplishment- a feeling of having seen something which I will cherish for years to come.
Here, I sit in my room late at night, in my humble attempt to pen down the experiences of a thoroughly memorable afternoon, I hum to myself
“Jokhon Shobai Mogon Ghumero Ghorey
Amar Ghoom Niyo He Horon Korey
Ekla Ghorey Chupey Chupey
Esho Kebol Shurer Rupey
Amar Chokher Joler Diyo Shaara”
(When the world is in peaceful slumber, rob the sleep from my eyes. Silently tip toe in to my room Oh Lord and answer my tearful prayers.)
- “Amar Nishitho Raatero Badolo Dhaara” from Tagore