Once, Mandeep and I drove to the Hotel Raj Classic Inn to attend a colleague's wedding reception. It was a fine evening of some signature good food and enjoyable socializing. Then, at another time, our colleague Revathy also tied the knot. Mandeep and I received invitations to both her wedding and her reception.
After arriving at the iconic Taj Mahal Hotel for Revathy’s wedding reception, we headed for the elevator to the terrace garden on the top floor. To elevate my fragrance etiquette, I wore two Eau De Cologne perfumes on my Peter England shirt: Denim and Brut—the latter of which Mandeep gifted me for my birthday, while a few months earlier, in November 2000, I had given him a blue-check White House shirt for his birthday.
As we stepped outside into the banquet hall, we walked to the stage to warmly greet our happy-looking colleague Revathy and her feeling-blessed husband amid a lively gathering of guests, women among them admiring Revathy's bridal silk saree adorned with intricate zari work to an awe-inspiring effect. After enjoying refreshingly fizzy lime-based cold drinks, we mingled in the exquisite atmosphere of the beautifully decorated banquet hall adorned with elegant floral arrangements, twinkling fairy lights, and stylish table settings. We then enjoyed a sumptuous buffet dinner featuring a variety of fresh salads, meats, and fruits, all elegantly arranged on the glossy marble-topped tables, which was quite a delightful affair.
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On another occasion, I found myself in a tastefully decorated function hall in Ramachandrapuram at BHEL Township, where the serene and warm ambiance captivated all the admiring attendees present. Even the children were calm and remained in one place despite their usual tendency to be active and dash about the hall.
The lighting, the sofas and chairs arranged in a gentle curve around the hall, the carpeted floor, and the stage—where the bride and bridegroom's families were about to receive guests—were all generously decorated in a way you will instantly appreciate: Adorned with shimmering draperies and delicate motifs, the exclusive use of natural flowers instead of plastic ones created a photo-worthy floral wall on the dais.
Ramachandrapuram was very far from our office on Raj Bhavan Road, so recognizing that travelling by motorbike would be tiring and out of the question, Mandeep decided to bring his club-hopping businesswoman aunt's ever-dependable beige Maruti 800, allowing ourselves to drive a long way to reach the venue in the far northern suburbs of the city.
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Devi, Suresh, and I attended Mandy’s brother’s wedding reception at the Hotel Taj Banjara sometime in 2001/2. Three or four years later, Mandeep married at the Taj Holiday Inn (now Taj Deccan). Our former boss, GG, was also there with his wife. He was, as usual, in the garb of his boastful and pompous self while looking for a drink or two that the waitperson was serving on the lawn, whereas I observed that his wife chose not to drink. If memory serves me correctly, Devi and Suresh continued working at Satyam for several years after I had left, and in that time, a lot of water had passed down the bridge to a different era, with Mandeep moving on to other vistas; I moved on to a different city to join Wipro.
I often wondered how Devi and Suresh continued working at Satyam's STC office branch without the companionship of Mandeep, myself, Shiv, or, for that matter, GG or Kavitha, who quit Satyam after she got the opportunity she was craving to go to the U.S., where everybody was going at that time and still do so typically even today. Our old memories gratefully never really leave us: they cause a powerful, continuous impact on our way of life ahead. I can only imagine how emotionally haunting those wonderful years on the 5th floor of TSR Towers on Raj Bhavan Road must have been for them or all of us. Despite my distress before and after shifting to Satyam's premier software development facility called Satyam Technology Center (STC), I can only imagine how Devi and Suresh coped with such a sudden change to STC, especially considering that the roaming division on Raj Bhavan Road, where we had all collaborated for nearly three years, was dislodged from Satyam and transferred to another company. How did Mandeep and Kavitha move on without adequately addressing our need for nostalgic memories of our time in Satyam, specifically since we haven't discussed it, which raises this question? While I can't comment on GG regarding the beautiful memories of Satyam, his sense of nostalgia must have been entirely non-existent, akin to a big zero. Even though they had long since shifted from that unforgettable office location—Devi remained at STC while Suresh, like me, eventually moved to the Vikrampuri office branch—it must have been, as it had been personally for me ever since I left my beloved workplace on Raj Bhavan Road, heart-breaking to carry those specific memories in their hearts while continuing their work at different locations and earn a living. Then I realized that not everyone is as nostalgic as I am, which might explain how they manage it the way they want. Others may have a harmless opinion about it, that's all.
The truth is: In the deepest corners of my soul, I still harbour the emotional remnants of the old Satyam era we have all been a part of and have experienced together, and this reflects in many ways a fundamental aspect of my persona—deep feelings of nostalgic longing for the past.
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No sooner had I entered the open-air marriage lawns on the right, far side of the expansive Taj Deccan than GG called out, "Hey! Arindam. How are you? Come sit with us." I immediately remembered what Mandeep had mentioned on the phone while inviting me to his reception party, "Chicha would also be there! So, better watch out! He he!" But I reassured myself that enough water had flown down the bridge and enough distance of passing years had been put between him and us, so therefore, I could handle that familiar old ghoul, no problem.
But the instant I saw GG sitting like a bulky Hulk-like figure across a vast table covered with white linen, I remember my body's (un)sympathetic nervous system kicking in; my valiant resolve of steadfastly saying ‘no problem’ had gone kaput.
My shirt clung to my back with hot goosebumps riddling all over. Sighing internally for having been singled out like that just when I stepped into the lawn area, I had no choice but to take the seat he indicated with an outstretched hand to take the cue and sit in the chair opposite him and his family. I thought to myself: "Never was he this courteous to anyone back in that day, so why now? Lagta hai Chicha soodar gaye!” But then I questioned, internally, can he be this jovial? Really? Something’s definitely fishy! But as I sat there, smiling and chatting with my former ‘worst nightmare’—the one whose masterclass in extreme bossism writ large over our Satyam days, and clear for all to see—I recalled our days at Satyam under his authoritarian administration (read regime) and how it was so curt and snappy with him at the helm of all roaming operations back in the day. In the end, however, I couldn't shake the feeling that he hadn't changed. He never changed. He is the same as he always was; no change whatsoever. Outward appearances are always deceptive. In GG's case, it jolly well was. Once a vile man, always a vile man. GG will never change. Period.
Although he now behaves nicely, thank God he is no longer the boss. Otherwise, nothing could stop him from being his Hitleresque best, his typical bearing of the evil in the world of gruff bosses, even at a party like this, missing only the toothbrush moustache on that hefty Colin Powell lookalike scowling face!
Afterward, Devi, Suresh, and Jagan arrived. They must have met GG when they entered the lawn, but I didn’t enquire about it. We all met, chatted for a while, and took a short stroll towards where the buffet spread on the long dining tables set in a curve on the promenade. I looked over to the stage where Mandeep and their family stood in position to welcome the politely tardy guests, gracefully delayed!
That was the last time I saw Devi, Suresh, and Jagan. A couple of years later, I learned from Mandeep that Jagan had migrated to Chennai, where he was doing well in his IT career. Unfortunately, just a few years after settling down there with his wife and newborn son, he passed away due to severe gastrointestinal disease: a result of extreme medical complications caused by drinking binges, chronic smoking, continuous chewing of paan masala, and habitual swallowing of gutkha. We warned Jagan numerous times about the ill effects of consuming such toxins, but he never listened.
Devi and Suresh, once passionate friends, were unwilling to be in contact. Shiv and Shahnawaz lost all about their old friends within a few years of leaving Satyam to pursue their goals elsewhere in the ever-expanding urban sprawl of this inhumanely overcrowded city of Hyderabad.
(To be continued…)
By Arindam Moulick
Although he now behaves nicely, thank God he is no longer the boss. Otherwise, nothing could stop him from being his Hitleresque best, his typical bearing of the evil in the world of gruff bosses, even at a party like this, missing only the toothbrush moustache on that hefty Colin Powell lookalike scowling face!
Afterward, Devi, Suresh, and Jagan arrived. They must have met GG when they entered the lawn, but I didn’t enquire about it. We all met, chatted for a while, and took a short stroll towards where the buffet spread on the long dining tables set in a curve on the promenade. I looked over to the stage where Mandeep and their family stood in position to welcome the politely tardy guests, gracefully delayed!
That was the last time I saw Devi, Suresh, and Jagan. A couple of years later, I learned from Mandeep that Jagan had migrated to Chennai, where he was doing well in his IT career. Unfortunately, just a few years after settling down there with his wife and newborn son, he passed away due to severe gastrointestinal disease: a result of extreme medical complications caused by drinking binges, chronic smoking, continuous chewing of paan masala, and habitual swallowing of gutkha. We warned Jagan numerous times about the ill effects of consuming such toxins, but he never listened.
Devi and Suresh, once passionate friends, were unwilling to be in contact. Shiv and Shahnawaz lost all about their old friends within a few years of leaving Satyam to pursue their goals elsewhere in the ever-expanding urban sprawl of this inhumanely overcrowded city of Hyderabad.
(To be continued…)
By Arindam Moulick