An Adventure In Oratory

Better Safe Than Sorry - Target Speech for Evaluation

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 13:01:00 +0000

This speech was delivered on the 16th of November 2008 at the Toastmasters Division Conference in Bangalore as the target speech for Division B Evaluation Contest.

The bomb was ticking. It had to be dismantled fast. It was Diwali. Yet, we did not want this bomb to go boom!

The bomb was ticking inside my mother’s body. For the last two years. She heard the ticking only last month. The bomb was a tumour that had first appeared as a lump two years ago. All tests for malignancy had come back negative then. But last month she noticed a change in the shape of the lump and became alarmed. A new round of tests suggested immediate removal. My mother had been diagnosed with stage-II Breast Cancer.

After a successful Mastectomy and one round of Chemotherapy, she is doing well. The bomb has been dismantled.

We could have avoided all the panic, the stress, the shock. Even after repeated requests from my sister and me, my mother refused to get periodic health check-ups done. And when she did feel the need to get one, the cancer had reached second stage.

In today’s world where so many toxins enter our body through the air we breathe, the quick-fix food we consume, the hybrid vegetables we eat, there is a lot of metabolic pressure on our bodies as compared to earlier times when the food was simpler and the air was cleaner. The human body has adapted to certain materials and its inputs are changing now. And unable to cope, our bodies react adversely.

The only way to pre-empt this is to go for a complete health check up at least twice in a year. No matter what age you or your children are, it is a procedure we cannot do without anymore. Our society believes that health check-ups are the prerogatives of those who have crossed the 40-year threshold, that children are somehow immune to major and terminal diseases. Further, we tend to believe that the only monsters to guard against are Diabetes, High Blood Pressure and Heart Diseases. But we need to watch against a lot many other silent killers now and in all age-groups.

Consider this. The youngest breast cancer patient that my mother’s doctor has treated is 20 years old whereas we believe that it is a condition that occurs late in life for women, usually post-menopause.

Here’s another example. One of my mother’s colleagues has a lovely daughter who is very active – a good student who attends Abacus classes on the weekend and learns Bharatnatyam. She has had no apparent health problems in life so far. Last month she complained of severe stomach ache and a scan revealed a pancreatic tumour that had burst and spread as far as to her lungs and intestines. Here’s the shocker – she us 12 years old.

This is why I stress that the entire family needs to get a full-body check up done very regularly. That should include basic blood tests for cholesterol and sugar what with cases of juvenile diabetes on the rise. Also included should be scans of vital organs. The family doctor should be kept in the loop at all times.

I realized the importance of health check ups when I lost my father to Kidney Failure 4 years ago. A history of High Blood Pressure and Gout coupled with misreading symptoms like skin asthma and swollen feet led us to not realizing till the last minute that his kidneys were going down the slope very fast. He hid other symptoms till the last minute from us and by then it was too late. He had full-blown Kidney Failure and was on dialysis for 3 years.

Apart from the fact that he personally suffered a lot, eventually we lost a precious part of our lives with him forever. Things might have been different today had there been regular complete health check ups and having his Kidneys scanned given his history of Gout.

Find out your family history when it comes to diseases. And tune your check up accordingly. And never ignore symptoms like frequent headaches, occasional black outs, dizziness, anything. Let a doctor certify that it is just migraine or low blood pressure. Don’t take chances. Don’t sit on symptoms till the last minute.

Some of you might argue that all this will lead to unnecessary paranoia and hypochondria. Believe me, once you get a check up done and get a clean bill of health, there is no better feeling. And if something is starting to malfunction, the sooner it is detected the easier it will be to treat it. Do not be apprehensive of what the scans might reveal, do not use it as an excuse to procrastinate.

Go get that complete health check up for your family today. You will never regret it. Because when it comes to health, the old adage makes sense – Better Safe Than Sorry.

I Have Never Had Lady's Fingers

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 07:00:00 +0000

This speech was delivered at the Infosys Toasmasters Club, Bangalore on the 1st of July 2008 for the 'Cook-A-Speech' contest. The objective was to build a speech around a single vegetable.

‘Abelmoschus esculentus!’

I am sorry that is not one of Harry Potter’s spells but I was still hoping something would happen. That in fact is the scientific name of my favourite vegetable, Lady’s Finger; a vegetable I enjoy eating in every form – sauteed the Andhra way, fried with onions, boiled in Sambar, roasted crunchy the Jaipuri way and of course as a renowned side-dish with Neer Dosa! Umm…delicious!

How many of you have ever had the (mis) fortune of chopping this delicious vegetable?…You’ll all especially know what I am talking about today.

This goes back to the time when I was being allowed near dangerous equipments like kitchen knives. Being a girl, I was supposed to learn cooking sooner or later. And being the tomboy that I was then, the sooner was the better. In addition, these weapons were a good and less gory way to provide a vent to my teenage temper…stabbing vegetables…you see, no bloodshed. And one fine day, a bunch of Lady’s Fingers had to bear the brunt.

But I hated what they did to my hands! All that sticky gooey pulp dried up on my fingers even as I was chopping. It seemed as if Pinnochio’s fingers had replaced my perfectly healthy fingers – they were brown, dry and crusty.

And it got me thinking…I have never really had a Lady’s Fingers – pretty, dainty, slim and fair fingers with perfectly manicured nails at the tips. The kind they feature in the Diamond commercials, the kind any guy would love have placed in his hands, the kind you see on Wedding Anniversary greeting Cards where a sturdy hand holds five delicate fingers and there are words like togetherness, companionship and marriage written all over. That kind!

I started playing Basketball at the age of 6. When I picture girls that age, I see pink dresses and pretty smiles. My parent’s friends never had that privilege. If they were visiting on any given evening all through my school life, they would find this 4 foot something walk in wearing short hair, sweaty-smelly T-shirts and sports shoes and with incredibly muddy hands…you see the seniors played on the tar court, we got the mud-court. And the icing on the cake used to be the sight of my fingernails especially in the monsooons. Mine were just not a Lady’s Fingers.

My faithful companion while commuting to this Basketball Club or to anywhere else for that matter in my school days was my bicycle. And while I enjoyed riding, those daily rides and a hard grip of the handlebars had their not so pretty side effects too – I had callouses on my hands. Right here, at the base of each finger and also on the inner sides of the knuckles. So mine became knotty Lady’s Fingers – the sort that customers pick, feel the knots, roll their eyes and toss aside.

But they say, this too shall pass and it did…over time, my callouses softened and I started keeping the fingernails clean. Soon, the time came to peel Lady’s Fingers. No really…I am a musician and I had always wanted to learn the guitar…so I did. But in the process the ridges of my fingers got in the worst shape ever. And the skin started to peel off at a point. To make it all worse, it was painful too this time. And the feeling I had was similar to sauteing lady’s fingers at home for the first time…I burnt them…the lady’s fingers were wasted.

But you know what, Basketball is my passion. I have learnt some life lessons and found lifelong friends out there on the courts. Music is the supplement my soul survives on. When the guitar emits those magical sounds, my fingers may bleed but my soul is in fact healing. And when the wind is in my face and the sunlight streams down on me as I ride to meet dear friends on a pleasant Bangalorean Sunday morning, I feel thankful just to be alive.

Beauty is only skin-deep. But where would I be without these and other similar joys – a passion to pursue, music in my heart and friends to share it all with? It was always very easy to have a Lady’s Fingers – pretty, dainty and fair, but I would also have had a sad and regretful life…the regret of not having done what my heart desired.

So, I have never had Lady’s Fingers. I probably never will. But I would much rather chop them and cook up a delicious meal for the ones I love, even if it means being Pinnochio-fingers myself for a while. I hope they’ll love me all the same, even with my un-lady-like fingers. I hope they will feel how Tommi Jo Casteel felt about his mother’s hands -

I saw you hide your hands in line,

Behind that lady fair,

I noticed too, hers soft and white-

Immaculate from care.

But Ma, I say, it’s no disgrace

To have workin’ hands like you,

And had she lived the life you have,

She’d have hands just like it too.

Project 10 - We Are All Butterflies

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Sun, 30 Mar 2008 15:25:00 +0000

Objective - Inspire your audience to noble motives

One miserable rainy night, a man named Mark decided to end his life. He had never been married, never had kids, had never known the joy of spending vacations with family, both his parents had been dead for seven years and he had a sister with whom he had lost touch. He held a menial job that left him unfulfilled. He felt as if nobody in the entire world cared if he lived or died.

While walking thus, for some reason Mark walked upto a house and knocked on their door. As he sat with the family narrating his woes, the family’s 6-year old son peeped from the staircase. His heart ached at the sight of this crying man. He ran upstairs and dug into his money jar. He pulled out as much money he could from what he was saving to buy his favourite game and ran back. He went upto Mark and handed him the money along with a warm hug. Mark was overwhelmed. He said, "Its just that I thought nobody cared. For the last twenty years I had been so alone. That was the first hug I have gotten in I don’t know how long. Its hard to believe that some body cares."

As Mark started to leave, the little boy’s mother asked Mark why he had chosen their door among all the others on the street.

Mark told her that while walking he read the bumper sticker on the family’s car. It said, ‘Somebody Loves You’.

Good Afternoon Fellow Toastmasters and Guests.

There is a theory in science called the Chaos Theory. It is more popular as the Butterfly Effect. And this Butterfly Effect saved Mark’s life that night.

The theory says - "The flapping of a single butterfly's wing today produces a tiny change in the state of the atmosphere. Over a period of time, what the atmosphere actually does diverges from what it would have done. So, in a month's time, a tornado that would have devastated the Indonesian coast doesn't happen. Or maybe one that wasn't going to happen, does."

It may happen that small differences in the initial conditions produce very great ones in the final phenomena. A small error in the former will produce an enormous error in the latter. There is even a movie The Butterfly Effect and it is very aptly sub-titled - Change One Thing, Change Everything.

Just like the Butterfly Effect, a small unknowingly kind gesture by that family of putting the right bumper sticker changed the course of Mark’s life that night. After that night he kept in constant touch with them and found a life again.

We all in our daily interaction as humans, constantly say or do things that have consequences for others also - both emotional and otherwise. One kind word from us can mean the world to another. One scathing remark can scar someone else. We all are butterflies with the potential to cause emotional tornadoes!

I remember the first time someone came up to me after a speech and paid a compliment - "I enjoyed listening to you." Even today if I feel apprehensive before a speech, just a recollection of those words, of the way the person said it and of how I felt quells all doubt and reinforces my confidence. Just one compliment made a difference to me as a speaker forever. So, take the time and pay a compliment if you genuinely like something...the recipient will never be the same again because you told her that she was good!

Say things you want to, are dying to. Every time you are in a dilemma of how it would be received, think of the boy who had a big crush on this girl in High School, but he never told her fearing that she might not reciprocate and might reject him. At a reunion many years later, while talking about her to a common friend this boy came to know that the girl had a crush on him too and kept waiting till the last day for him to say something!

If only that boy had kept his fear of rejection aside and said I Love You, he would have changed the course of his own life and also the girl’s. So, say I Love You. You might be doing yourself a favour. Say I Love You to your parents, siblings, dearest friends, and add a tinge of love to their daily lives. They will thank you for making their day!

On the other hand, don’t say things that are unnecessary and hurtful, like screaming "You’re such an idiot!" at someone out of sheer frustration. We learn continually at Toastmasters that the harshest of criticism can be delivered in the nicest manner if we show some respect. Let us keep in mind the erudite words, ‘They’ll not remember what you said but they will never forget how they felt.’ And that applies to both nice things and nasty. Remember the Polite Pig from the movie Babe? That animal was delivering a powerful message - everything can be achieved through nicety and politeness. As the Japanese say, ‘One kind word can warm three winter months.’

It takes very simple gestures to change lives. I have this friend whom I generally meet in Café Coffee Day whenever he comes down to Bangalore. This guy always takes a moment to read the name of the person taking the order, say Raj, and then request, "Hi Raj! Could I get some Cappucino please?" I have seen the person’s face light up like nobody’s business. It gives them a sense of being more than an anonymous face bringing you coffee. Maybe that guy has had a bad day. Maybe his boss is giving him a hard time. Maybe he is thinking of quitting. Who knows, such a simple gesture will make him feel better and keep him at the good job he is doing!

We sometimes do unpleasant things not because we want to hurt others but because we are unaware that our actions affect more than just us. Driving on the road is a highly dependent activity. Yet, we end up doing things shifting lanes without checking blind spots on autopilot. These may have dire consequences for others, like death! We use mobile phones in Hospitals when it is against the rules. I understand our near and dear need to be kept informed. But the same can be done by going just outside the building. There is this incident where a little girl on Life Support lost her life in an operation because somebody used the cell phone outside the OT and it interfered with the life support system.

I understand that life has these ways of throwing surprises at us and the daily grind of dealing with them makes us preoccupied. But if we can make just a little effort, be a little aware of the world around us, of the people around us and of their feelings, we would have played our part.

We had this story in our 8th standard English Textbook. A man, let’s call him John, and his friend step out of a taxi cab and after paying up John tells the taxi cab driver, "You are doing a very good job." When John’s friend requests an explanation John says that he wanted the taxi driver to feel good. And because he felt good and appreciated he would probably be nice to his wife and kids. The wife might in turn be nice to the neighbours and the storekeepers and even put in an extra effort in her day’s work. John wanted this feel-good effect to cascade. Like the Butterfly Effect through being nice to just one person...making this world a better place.

Ultimately, this is not just about us. Let us all try to Heal the World, to treat another human’s heart as carefully as the fragile porcelain vases and expensive cars that we value. Let us look before we leap, think before we speak. Because we are butterflies and our actions have huge consequences. So the next time you are about to say something or maintain silence, do something or refrain from it, all I request you to do is think about the next few steps that will follow the result of your decision, think for a moment and then proceed.

In the book the Alchemist, when a butterfly flutters between the old man and Santiago, the old man tells him that Butterflies are a good omen. So let us not be butterflies that cause emotional tornadoes. Let us be good omens for whoever’s lives we touch. Let us be The Alchemist’s Butterflies.

Project 9 - Release A Black Balloon

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Sun, 09 Mar 2008 15:23:00 +0000

Objective - Persuade your audience to adopt your opinion or take an action

There was once a man who sold balloons to keep hunger from the door - balloons of all shapes and colours - red, green, orange and blue. Whenever business was slow, he would release a helium-filled balloon into the sky to attract children and his sales would go up again. One day he felt someone tugging at his shirt. He turned around to see a small dark girl who asked, "If you release a black balloon, would that also fly?" At this the man said, "My child, it is not the colour of the balloon, it is what is inside that makes it go up."

How many of us here are filling such dark balloons and letting them fly? How many of us here are allowing such dark horses a chance to even run the race, let alone win it? How many of us here...are doing our bit?

We usually discuss the state of the nation as we sit on the sprawling sofas sipping our coffee or wine in our living rooms. Why? Because it affects us. We always end up blaming the government, the bureaucracy and flawed policies. But, remember that the country whose President propounded, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country" is today one of the most powerful nations on Earth. So what can WE do for our country? What can we do in keeping with Mahatma Gandhi’s call to action, "Be the change you want to see"?

On the occasion of Women’s Day and having declared that Women Rule The World, we can do one simple thing - sponsor an underprivileged girl child’s education.

Successful education of the girl child is an effective mechanism to break the inter-generational cycle of poverty, myths, social norms and social evils. Research conducted in developing countries has demonstrated that a literate female population is linked to reduction in population growth rates. Even a minimally educated woman understands the importance of savings, makes her whole family more socially aware, realizes how having more children can be a strain on the resources, can be apprised of how diseases like AIDS spread and how she can shield herself thereby reducing one carrier, etc. Now, multiply that 1 by thousands of underprivileged women and consider what impact it will have on statistics.

At this point, let me tell you about the Nanhi Kali project of the K.C. Mahindra Education Trust wherein underprivileged girls from a wide gamut of backgrounds are offered a sponsorship for their education. The idea is to enroll as many girls in schools as possible and also to ensure that the exisitng enrollments are retained because although the enrollment rates for girls in Indian schools have improved of late, the drop out rates are still very high averaging at around 60% and the reasons for giving up on education are sometimes non-issues like not being able to afford uniforms. It costs less than or equal to Rs. 200 a month on your part depending on the standard the girls study in to keep them in school...to sponsor a girl’s education.

Once you send the money to Nanhi Kali, they seek a girl who needs the sponsorship and send you a photograph and other details about the chosen girl child. Progress reports about her academic performance are regularly sent to you. The child herself is made aware that there is a gaurdian angel for her and she may send you cards and drawings that she has made off and on. So there is complete transparency and no bureaucratic hassles. You can visit nanhikali.org for comprehensive information and getting in touch with them.

There are many other projects like Amitasha by the Amity Humanity Foundation etc. which function on a similar model.

Dr. S. Radhakrishnan had said, "Educate a man and you educate an individual. Educate a woman and you educate a family". Let us keep in mind that in the patriarchal society that ours is, it is still the lady of the house who has the most influence on the family, which is why for this generation I am stressing on the girl child. It will take just one generation of girls to change the times. And then thousands of these girls empowered by you will grow up to become women who will break the cycle, whose families will be less prone to abuse and exploitation due to their awareness, who will plan their families and thereby impact population figures, who will see that their children receive education and do not suffer like the previous generations thus bringing down the petty crime rate and this decimation in population and dilation in employable people will improve the employment scenario. With one arrow you will shoot so many birds - population, poverty, unemployment. Changing the status quo and leaving our children a happier, prosperous, peaceful and safe country to live in is not as daunting as we make it out to be. You will continue to live in that better India even long after you’re gone through a woman’s grateful memories...her whole lineage owing their emancipation to you.

All you need to do is spread the word extensively since we need to impact thousands of girl’s lives and do a simple task - release a black balloon...sponsor a girl child’s education today!

The Secret Garden - Contest Speech

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Sat, 01 Mar 2008 16:26:00 +0000

Text of the speech delivered at the Toastmasters Area 6 Speech Contest on Saturday the 1st of March, 2008. (Video at the foot of the post)

It is not the sap within the furrowed bark,
Nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden forever in bloom
And a flock of angels forever in flight.

So said Khalil Gibran of Beauty. Truly, a well-tended garden, like any other thing of beauty, is a joy forever. And maybe it is this pursuit of beauty that prompts many of us to take up gardening, to take the pains and nurture a plant, to see our efforts bearing fruit.

There are some gardeners who give their plants only the basic supplements like sunlight and water. They do not prune the plants or till the soil too much. They let nature take over. The plants in turn struggle initially but soon find their foothold and learn to thrive without needing the gardeners. They grow with minimal nourishing but without any shape and direction. If there are leaves lying all over, the gardeners may or may not clear them. They let such fallings rot and that becomes the manure. Such plants can grow in any environment but they seldom respect it since they are busy devising survival strategies…they are so self-absorbed. A wild beauty pervades such gardens. They are another form of the woods and forests – detached and by themselves. In the absence of the gardeners, they seek solace and camaraderie in the birds that flock them to make nests; they find family in the wind.

There are gardeners who spend ample time in their gardens everyday. They give the plants copious water, superior manure, sometimes imported and a lot of care. They pare down the plants at every chance, a little here, some more there, at the side, over the top. They turn the soil frequently. They keep the plants truncated so that they are manageable. Hence, such gardens never come around to providing any shade to the gardener even after years of nurturing. Such may become puny and start withering or languishing at the first lack of the manure and pesticide they are used to. They seldom survive in any environments other than their own. They become completely dependent on the gardener and he revels in this fact. The gardener’s presence is all too obvious in such gardens.

And then there are gardeners whose plants are allowed to grow on their own but are pruned when an abberant bud is seen. They are given decent manure at well-placed intervals. Pesticides are sprayed only when there is a threat of disease. The soil is tilled after interludes too. Such plants grow tall in the right direction and are shaped beautifully. They need the gardener but not incessantly, only to give direction to their growth. They are well adjusted and respect their environment as well the gardener because they are dependent on both for balanced growth although they are more or less on their own. Such gardens exude beauty and enough care. They make the gardener’s home beautiful and provide requisite shade later in life. Such plants are the neighbour’s envy, gardener’s pride.

I have never belived that our children can be likened to globs of clay. That sounds like a one-time job…you can’t keep moulding clay forever, it will dry up sometime and will have to be baked, and sooner not later.

I believe, children are like plants and we are like gardeners. So then, let us also not let them loose and let them grow wild lest they don’t need us anymore, lest they don’t care for their surroundings anymore, lest they have no shape and direction in life and grow wild with fallen leaves all over our garden.

Let us also not smother them with our care and let them get used to only particular things that we think are best for them, let us not supervise every leaf, let us not watch or condescend every move they make lest they start withering no sooner there is a dearth of the best manure and pesticide, get pruned beyond necessity and their growth is stunted.

Let us allow our plants to reach the heights they deserve but prune only when an anomalous bud comes out. Let us allow them to get diseases, make mistakes and stumble and fall; but let us be there to then spray pesticide, bring out the lesson in their mistake and help them get up and stand strong. Let us let them be, let them sway in the wind but also let them know that we are there for them, lest they need us. Let us bring forth beautifully manicured gardens that are things of beauty, with trees whose shade we can relish during the sunset of our life.

What can we give our children?
Knowledge, yes, and honour too,
And strength of character
And the gift of laughter.
What gold do we give our children?
The gold of a sunny childhood,
Open spaces, a home that binds
Us to the common good…
These simple things
Are greater than the gold of kings.

Project 7 - Head First Java

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Tue, 11 Sep 2007 15:19:00 +0000

Objective - Research your topic

Masbout in Egypt, Kalawa in Kenya, Gafae in Thailand, Sourj in Armenia, Buna in Ethiopia, Mocha, Latte or Kaapi...all names for that magical drink, the potion that keep us alive and more importantly awake as we try and concentrate in a meeting, fix a bug or write a piece of elusive code in Java...precisely that - Java...coffee. Join me today as we take a close look at this well-loved beverage.

This miracle was discovered about 3000 years back by Capra Hircus...that’s goats. An Ethiopian goat herder named Kaldi noticed one day that his docile goats were more lively than usual. He saw some of them munching red berries from a nearby plant. He tasted them and felt very invigorated. He then took his find to a monk who put the berries in hot water and drank the decoction. That was the first recorded brew of coffee.

Thereafter, coffee was cultivated and consumed extensively throughout the Arab world. In fact, the word Coffee has been derived from the Arab word for coffee, Qahwah. The plant was guarded closely and no beans allowed to be taken to other continents. But an Indian pilgrim by the name Baba Budan smuggled 7 beans in his waist belt to India in the year 1650 and planted them in the Chikmagalur district near here. Today India is the 7th largest producer of Coffee in the world, the first being Brazil.

The first Coffeehouses were established in Turkey and they were called Qahwah-Khaneh. They were popular meeting places for scholars, traders and politicians alike. English traders in Turkey would visit these coffeehouses as business would be discussed there. From Turkey, the English took coffee to Europe. When the Dutch beat the Turkish in a battle, they found sacks of coffee among the plunderings. And they started cultivating it in their colonies in Malabar in India and Java in Indonesia.

Coffee was brought to the Americas by a French Naval Officer after raiding Louis XIV’s plantation in Paris and facing pirates, storms and a rough, adventurous and dangerous journey over the Atlantic. Today Americans are the largest consumers of coffee in the world followed by the French and the Germans. Together they consume nearly 3 quarters of the world’s coffee!

Coffee grows in the form of green berries on plants that can grow to heights of 30 to 40 feet. When ripe, the berries are stark red in colour. Each berry contains 2 beans inside.

The two major varieties of coffee grown worldwide are Arabica and Robusta. Arabica has a more refined flavour but is prone to frost and diseases. Robusta, as the name suggests, is the more robust variety and has an earthly flavour to it. Yet, Robusta accounts for only 1/4th of the coffee grown all over while the rest is Arabica.

Unroasted beans have all the acids, proteins and the caffeine but not the much-loved flavour. Upon roasting, the carbohydrates and fats turn into aromatic oils and the moisture and carbon dioxide burn off, releasing the exotic flavour of coffee.

The Roasts for coffee range from light to darkest and have interesting names. The New England roast is a light roast and has a somewhat sour and snappy taste. The American medium roast is a bit sweeter and has a full body with the acid snap, aroma and complexity. The dark French roast is more complex, aromatic and somewhat spicy. The darkest roast is the Italian roast which tastes smoky and not even like the bean.

As opposed to the common notion that darker coffee is better, the amount of caffeine reduces as the coffee is roasted more since the caffeine burns off at higher temperatures. But a recent research suggests that the stimulating effects of coffee are due to a yet unknown chemical which triggers the secretion of the stimulating hormones Cortisone and Adrenaline. So, the secret behind coffee’s kick remains a secret.

"Last comes the beverage of the Orient shore,
Mocha, far off, the fragrant berries bore.
Taste the dark fluid with a dainty lip,
Digestion waits on pleasure as you sip."

So said Pope Lea XII about coffee. The health benefits of coffee are numerous. It reduces the risk of Alzheimer’s Disease, Parkinson’s Disease, Type-2 Diabetes, Cirrhosis of the Liver, Heart Disease and the painful condition Gout. The tannins in coffee reduce the incidence of dental caries. Studies performed by the Harvard School of Public Health suggest that coffee reduces the risk of Gallstones and Gall Bladder Diseases. And here is some good news for all of us who want to lose weight...coffee increases the metabolic rate according to a Danish study. It is even higher while exercising and coffee makes body fat more easily available to the exercising muscles.

The downside is that coffee can cause insomnia, anxiety and irritability. It may dehydrate and hence cause constipation. It also causes staining of teeth.

Now for a quick bit about the office coffee break...a time to relax and enjoy a hot, steaming cup of coffee -- and bacteria! Public-health officials in Grande Prairie in Alberta, Canada tested reusable mugs from four government offices, including the Health Department itself, and found high concentrations of bacteria. The fact is that we don’t clean our coffee mugs well-enough -- just a quick rinse. To properly sanitize a mug, it should be washed thoroughly and then rinsed for 30 seconds in water of 170 degrees or more. The key to avoiding health hazards then is to either use disposable cups or use good detergents and an ounce of your time to rinse the mugs.

Drink it with milk or without it, with chocolate, cream or a dash of cardamom...drink it at Barista, Coffee Day, Kalmane, the Italian Vending machine outside or from the stainless steel filter at home...savour it in the morning, noon, evening or even at night, just keep in mind this piece of advice from Jilly Cooper’s book How To Survive From 9 to 5...Never drink black coffee at lunch; it will keep you awake in the afternoon.

Project 6 - An Affair To Remember

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Thu, 16 Aug 2007 14:50:00 +0000

Objective - Use voice modulation effectively and explore the possibilities of your voice

Read the wedding card

The greatest and strongest institution in India - Marriage. It is an institution that commands a lot of awe, respect, and sacredness! There is a lot of preparation involved more so in an arranged marriage. Let us take a peep into this whole business of the Great Indian Arranged Marriage.

It all begins when a prospective groom comes over to see the girl. The decked up girl walks into the room with a tray of teacups for the guests, coyly, shyly. She sits herself down and while they are busy forming first impressions about her, the girl is thinking ‘Wow! I never noticed that each tile on our floor has 16 checkered blocks within it...’ She has never looked at the floor for such long a time!

The usual viva-voce begins...‘What have you studied?’ ‘What are your hobbies?’ ‘Do you know to cook?’ ‘Would you be interested in working after marriage?’...As the girl tries to find her voice after such a long period of silence to answer the questions she wonders...‘Did the panel at my first job interview ask me all that? Getting a job is easier than this!’

If everything goes well, a few days later they convey their decision - they like the girl...there is excitement at the girl’s house, there are sighs of relief, the girl blushes pink as her friends squeal in their ‘Congratulations!!’ and preparations for the wedding begin.

The Engagement is accomplished with much fanfare...In a few communities the rituals are so elaborate that they might as well get the couple married then and there. Post the engagement, for some days the multitude gazes at the rings and utters various exclamations...the girl’s friends especially - ‘How beautiful! 23K or 22? And that stone is diamond is it?’

After the engagement has faded from the minds, the wedding starts to be planned. There are frequent calls between the two parties. "What is the Groom’s height?" "What brand of suit does he prefer?" "What colour of Sarees to buy for the bride?" "Kanjeevaram or Benaras silk?" "Which Marriage Hall is available?" "What design to have for the invitation cards?"...The hustle and bustle that characterizes any house where a wedding is to take place.

The day of the wedding dawns and the ceremonies ensue. The guests start pouring in. Children have the most fun at such occasions paying no heed to the purpose of them being there. They run around the hall disturbing chairs and inventing their own games. The little girls collect fallen flowers and shout out "Hey I got a pink rose...which colour did you get?"

The bride’s friends are busy in discussions, ‘the couple looks good together no! And she looks so pretty in that Saree. Apparently her mother-in-law gave it to her...which company did she say the groom works for?’

Somewhere in the 3rd row, oblivious to the ongoing rituals are two ladies having a discussion more important than India’s security policy...‘Do you how much the boy earns?! I heard that he has got a Green Card...you know, he has a younger brother who is single...’ And then ‘what happened to that boy we met at so-and-so’s wedding? You had spoken to his parents is it not? Oh...he became a monk is it! He was a rather nice boy’

The elders assume their positions in the Hall and people start taking their children to meet them...an adolescent boy touches the feet of an elderly aunty supposed to be his father’s 3rd cousin...she exclaims, "How tall you have grown!" As if the he was expected to grow shorter! "I saw you when you were this much, you used to be such crybaby..." and then to his mother "He still cries like that is it?" By this time the boy is thoroughly embarrassed and only wants to run away from the wedding and civilization in general.

Suddenly, the music starts and goes into a crescendo marking the moment of holy matrimony. Everyone crowds around the marquee to shower blessings on the couple. They hand over the gifts, mumble their congratulations and proceed to eat.

Food is another major article of discussion. "You know, at so-and-so’s wedding they had 3 different cuisines...we couldn’t even taste everything! By the way, did you taste the Biryani? It is delicious..."

A child bothers his mother with cries of "I want ice-cream!" when there is none...and his mother tries to bargain "Baby, I will buy you ice-cream this evening...promise...for now will you be a good boy and eat the dessert?"

Meanwhile, preparations to see the couple off have begun. And among sobbing relatives, friends wishing the best for a happy married life, hugs and kisses from the kids of the household, the bride steps out with her husband into a new life with new hopes, apprehensions and excitement for the future. For all that has gone into sending the darling daughter away, every Indian wedding in itself becomes - an affair to remember.

Project 5 - The Only Man

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Fri, 27 Jul 2007 14:46:00 +0000

Objective - Use body language effectively

Agra, Kanpur, Meerut, Barrackpore and..JHANSI.

The event - The Great Indian Uprising of 1857

And this year: 2007. 150 years since that event - the event that shook the foundations of the Raj in India, the event that made legends out of common sepoys like Mangal Pandey and the event that left a wake of unrest among the Indians leading to Independence less than a 100 years later.

One of those legends of the 1857 Mutiny was a woman whose name became synonymous with courage and valour.

Born around the year 1828 in Varanasi as Manikarnika Tambe, Manu - as she was affectionately called - was quite a tomboy as a child. She learnt to use the sword, to shoot and to ride horses. In fact, she was known to be an excellent horse rider and a good judge of horses. An anecdote has it that once her childhood playmate Nana Sahib denied her a ride on his elephant. In return, she declared that one day she would have ten elephants to every one of his. A fine example of the bravado and ambition she was born with.

Her contemporaries have described her as a charming woman of middle size, stout but not too stout. Her expression was intelligent. Her eyes were particularly fine and her nose very delicately shaped. The only thing that spoilt her was her voice which was something between a whine and a croak.

This beautiful maiden was married to the Raja of Jhansi, at a tender age of 14 years. She took the name Lakshmi after marriage and thus came to be known as the Rani of Jhansi Lakshmibai.

After the death of her son a five-year-old boy was adopted from the extended family. To ensure that the British understood the adoption as proper the local British officials were called to witness the event. Despite such precautions, Jhansi was annexed two years later in keeping with Lord Dalhousie’s proclamation that all states without biological heirs were to be annexed in to the British kingdom. The Rani kept pleading the British to recognize her son as the legal heir and spare Jhansi but the pleas fell on deaf ears. A woman who aspired to own a multitude of elephants some day was robbed of her kingdom in a matter of days.

So, on the 21st of March 1858, when British troops under Hugh Rose appeared outside Jhansi, the Rani decided to collaborate with her rebelling sepoys. Tatya Tope’s troops had reached Jhansi to assist the Rani but could not hold out against the British who managed to scale the walls and enter Jhansi.

What followed was execution of the natives, plundering and excessive violence by the British soldiers. Seeing the army stream across the streets, Jhansi’s women threw their children and themselves down wells. There was blood everywhere.

At this time, the Rani led her troops clad in military attire, a red jacket, trousers and a white turban on her head, which made it impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman fighting. Her son was strapped to her back all the while as she fought on horseback – an image immortalized in her statues all over the country.

When the rebels lost in Jhansi, the Rani managed to escape to Kalpi and from thereon marched to Gwalior. En route they stopped for rest in Phoolbaugh for rest. The Rani sat there drinking sherbet. Her childhood friend who had never left her side so far was with her too. Suddenly, the British troops appeared. The rebels fled save a few. The Rani handed over her son to her friend and bade them to safety. She mounted her horse and started to ride but was faced with a sewerage canal. The horse refused to leap leaving her no option but to fight.

And fight she did, furiously, in this decisive battle of her life, with the horse’s reign between her teeth and swords in both hands. As her final moment arrived, she was first unseated from the horse by a sabre cut in her side and then shot at by a soldier. Sitting leaning against a rock, she fired her pistol at her assailant. Enraged, he slashed at her and delivered the fatal wound. Thus, the Rani of Jhansi Lakshmibai became a martyr at the age of only 30 years with a reward of Rs. 100000 on her head.

More than being a martyr in the First War of Indian Independence, the Rani became an eternal inspiration as the true woman of substance. She showed us the potential to greatness every woman possesses. Such was the heroic life and death of the Boudicca of India – the Rani of Jhansi Lakshmibai, who, not inappropriately, Hugh Rose declared to be the only man among the Indian Mutineers.

Project 4 - Making Daddy Proud

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Thu, 28 Jun 2007 14:42:00 +0000

Objective - Select the right words and communicate ideas vividly

2nd of December 2004. 7 AM.

I awoke to the squeaking of unoiled wheelchair wheels. My eyes stung from the fragmentary sleep I had had the previous night. My father had been in the hospital since 3 days then and a patient of Chronic Kidney Failure since 3 years. I blinked repeatedly. My eyes felt better. Sitting up I could see hospital’s reception table straight ahead. The receptionist was not in. But the dialysis patients had started arriving for the morning shift. There was a low hum in the reception area as those patient’s escorts talked in low voices. I decided to check on my father.

There was a huge square frosted glass window behind my father’s bed. It was an east-facing window and at that time of the day my father’s white-walled room was awash with light. Since the light came from behind my father’s bed, at first sight it seemed like it was my father’s aura and not diffused sunlight that filled the room.

In his heydays, my father had been a 5 feet 7 inches tall pot-bellied man. His square face had high cheekbones, flesh piling up against them. He had narrow Mongolian eyes like mine. So when he smiled, his cheeks squeezed them and all one saw was two segments for his eyes. Overall, he looked like an amiable huggable teddy bear.

But through the 3 years of his disease, his body wasted away. His high cheekbones made his gaunt cheeks more pronounced. His limbs started looking like sticks. But due to the disease, water would accumulate in his torso and his feet. So his tummy took on the appearance of a drum more than a pot. The swelling near his chest would go down for a day two after his weekly dialysis turning the drum into more of a pitcher.

That day the drum was larger. His head was tilted to the left and he was staring blankly straight ahead. The previous two days the nurses had to tie his hands to the guardrails of the hospital bed because he would constantly try to pull the oxygen mask off his nose. He had not been too cognizant of his actions. A knot had formed in my throat by seeing him in such a pathetic state – a prisoner of his bed. My eyes had become dams for the tears of pity and agony.

That day though, he was breathing easily and the mask hung from nozzle of the brown oxygen cylinder standing to the right of the head his bed. To the left side was a table with an assortment of medicines and a vacuum flask to keep boiled water in. The flask was white with peach-coloured flowers. Somehow, the design conveyed gaiety to me; the flask seemed a misfit in the room where the air hung heavy with helplessness, sombreness and sleeplessness.

My mother was sitting to the right side of the bed having tea and gazing at my father. From the foot of the bed where I stood, I could only see her back. She was hunching a little. I saw how her spine had gone lax from unspoken resignation and fatigue even as the day had just begun. She asked me to freshen up from home and come. I had also to go to the bank that day. My father had not yet acknowledged my presence. Thinking he was in a stupor, I left without speaking to him.

While I waited for my turn at the counter in the bank, I saw my best friend searching the crowds. My father’s condition had grown serious. Upon reaching the hospital, I saw my sobbing sister and glum classmates outside. In the reception area, my mother was weeping inconsolably. My paternal aunt confirmed what my brain was trying not to derive from the scene – my father had passed away a few minutes ago.

I was incredulous. He couldn’t just leave. My paternal aunt was trying to hold my hands but I jerked them away and proceeded to his room.

I saw his body wrapped in the sheet he had used as a coverlet. The nurses were tying his body with coir ropes before it started to harden as if they were packing a piece of cargo to be shipped off. But I couldn’t protest. I couldn’t say a word. A flood of emotion was washing my sanity away. I cupped his face in my palms and felt his cheeks with my thumbs. The skin was still warm and soft. His face had a half-smile. He seemed to be calm, free from pain and in immense peace. I called out to him but there was no response. It was then that the dam behind my eyes gave way and tears flowed freely.

After that we were all led to my grandmother’s house. Father’s body was placed in the washed and completely vacated veranda so visitors could pay homage to him. There was a small brass oil lamp and sandalwood incense on the left side near his head. The strong scent masked the faint smell of medicines and hospitals that had become characteristic of my father. The framed picture of my late grandfather hung on the wall parallel to my father’s body and it seemed as if he were overseeing the preparations for his son’s final journey to where he was.

The rituals started and the priest made my mother, my sister and me pour water over ourselves and perform the rituals in the same drenched clothes. The water was icy cold and it chilled us to the bone. My already shocked mother was unable to support herself after that and had to be helped by two people to perform all rituals. We offered rice grains and flowers at our father’s forehead and circled his body thrice before touching his feet. I remember how different his body felt then from the morning. It felt like it was made of wood. All signs of moisture had receded from his body. I touched my head to his feet for the last time and stayed that way for a few seconds. I didn’t want to let go.

After the rituals were over, the men lifted the bamboo sticks father’s body had been fastened to and took him away. A small carrier truck was parked a few feet away from the house. They kept his body in it and the truck took a turn around the corner. With that my father disappeared from our sight and our lives forever.

In the 3-year long battle against the disease, my father lost his hearing to the side effects of a life-saving drug, underwent painful dialysis every single week and endured immense physical discomfort. But he never complained. He never stopped smiling.

Among the many things he taught me in his lifetime was public speaking. He told me that any speech should have an attention-grabbing opening. He taught me the importance of body language. He wrote most of my speeches in school until I was mature enough to write them by myself. He introduced me to the powerful art of oratory.

Smiling as much as I can and public speaking are my ways of paying obeisance to him. I try and do both here and every time I step-off the dais, I only hope he is watching and smiling. I only hope he is proud of me.

Project 2 - The Benefits Of Team Sports

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 14:40:00 +0000

Objective: Organize Your Speech

Chicago Bulls star Dennis Rodman once disagreed that team chemistry was the key to the Bulls' success. "Chemistry is a class you take in high school or college," he declared, "where you figure out two plus two is ten, or something."

Kindly excuse and overlook that slight scholastic aberration of Rodman’s and join me in descrying the real theme of the anecdote: Team Chemistry. That’s a small part of my topic for today – the benefits of team sports.

The reason I chose this topic is I am a Basketball Player myself and the game has taught me a lot more than just technicalities like dribbling my way to the basket and netting the ball. As Michael Jordan once put it and echoed my feelings – “Even when I'm old and grey, I won't be able to play it, but I'll still love the game.” I decided to take a broader view and talk about team sports.

That sports are beneficial for us has been a premise that has seldom been investigated. To enlist any of the advantages like physical fitness, discipline would be to state the obvious. So, let’s begin with the basic premise that everyone should ideally indulge in one form of sport or the other and not contest it.

Given that postulate, I feel that team sports are a better option as compared to individual sports. And we shall examine this statement from multiple perspectives like emotional, even spiritual and social.

A team sport is one that involves competition between teams of players e.g. Cricket whereas individual sports have individuals as participants e.g. Golf. Let us take up the emotional angle first, the values and the abstractions. In an individual sport, the sportsperson is responsible as much for his loss as for his success. When the stakes are high, and you win it almost implies you win as a person also but when you lose, you as a person have lost. But in a team sport, the blow of a loss is divided over the whole team and the joy of victory is multiplied by individual happiness. One man can never be responsible for either the victory or the loss of the team. Those who believe that do not understand a team sport at all. As former American Baseballer Michelle Smith put it, “I don't need to be the Number 1 on the team. This is what I train for day in and day out. I am the support player. If I need to hit, pitch, run, whatever, I will do it. If everything was going to be about me, I think I'd quit.”

A team sport teaches you optimization of skills, not maximization unlike individual sports where the individual is expected to be equipped with all the necessary skills. In a team you identify the key strengths of each member and tune your performance so that everybody does what he knows to do best. All 5 members on a basketball team can’t be star shooters; that would be a once in a blue moon occurrence. And all the members can’t be spectacular defenders. The key is for the defenders to defend to the best of their ability so that the shooters are free to shoot and net the points. That distributes the load of performance and each person performs to his optimum and the team achieves its maximum.

Los Angeles Lakers player Shaquille O'Neal (who now plays for Miami Heat) was frequently upbraided by his coach for his tardiness. One day, he had to take a drastic measure to avoid being late for yet another practice. And What? He appeared on the court wearing his shoes... and nothing else. While that is taking things too far, the point is, in a team sport, the whole team has to train together whereas in an individual sport you have the luxury of scheduling your practice sessions as per your convenience. It teaches you to be punctual and to organize yourself. You throw a whim and miss practice or turn up late and it is bound to reflect in the team’s performance. You learn to adjust, to prioritize.

You know how when birds migrate they fly in a ‘V’ formation? Not that the bird at the tip is any more capable than the others but they just choose a leader and follow his lead. When he is tired another bird replaces it and they move on. In a team sport too, you have a captain and he assigns you a role. And the captains change. You learn to manage as well as carry out roles assigned to you. American Footballer Jack Kemp said, “Every team requires unity. A team has to move as one unit, one force, with each person understanding and assisting the roles of his team mates.” And that says it well.

In 1983, the team representing India brought home the Cricket World Cup. Who would care to get that verbose, we just said India wins the World Cup and made heroes and legends out of the team members. In 2007, when the team representing India lost their way out of the world cup, we just said India out of the World Cup. It sounded terrible. It pricked the ears. And we wanted to blame someone…naturally the team that brought the calamity about. Being in a team sport involves belonging to a unit; you always represent a unit whose reputation you are somehow expected to uphold at all times…your school, your district, your Nation. It breeds a sense of belonging for that unit and nurtures patriotism for it. Although that may or may not be the case in an individual sport but it has potential to assume fanatic proportions in a team sport. That just multiplies the already existing excitement and thrill in playing the sport.

Coming to the spiritual point of view, you know how they always tell you to detach yourself from the experiences of life, from your personality, from your ego in order to attain enlightenment…that is easy with team sports. You are always a part of the team. You learn to identify yourself as just an instrument to achieve the goal of the team and not as an individual. And since neither the victory nor the loss is wholly your own, there is no question of getting egotistic about it.

Sania Mirza was once asked if she missed having fun and partying like people her age and felt like she was sacrificing something. She, in reply, said that there was always a price to pay for your ambitions. From the social point of view and as I said earlier, in individual sports you may be training alone most of the time and with progress in your career you may get kind of isolated from your peers. In team sports on the other hand, you can always have fun with your teammates. A sense of camaraderie exists and is even essential for the team’s success. When you go on tours, the journey itself becomes enjoyable with so many people to have fun with. Former American Footballer Jim Brown’s lucid statement speaks for how he felt about this - "When you need a friend, you can always count on your teammates."

Team sports also prepare you for certain high paying professions that elevate your social status these days - politics for one! With so many parties and coalitions in the fray today, gone are the days when politics was likened to Chess. It is now no less than a team sport…something like Rugby! Not actors but good team sportsmen should have automatic entries to politics, I feel.

On a more serious note, the software profession where team-work is a cardinal skill. Nobody realizes the importance of team-work more than we do. And team sports teach that too well.

Team sports unite and harmonize. When the whole society is disintegrating, we have people belonging to all faiths on the Indian Cricket team and they are united for a common goal – winning…together.

A final thought in the words of New York Knicks Coach Red Holzman, "On a good team there are no superstars. There are great players who show they are great players by being able to play with others as a team. They have the ability to be superstars, but if they fit into a good team, they make sacrifices, they do things necessary to help the team win. What the numbers are in salaries or statistics don't matter; how they play together does."

It’s like that Jack Johnson song - We are better when we are together!

Project 1 - The Banker's Daughter

noreply@blogger.com (Anupama) — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 14:35:00 +0000

Objective - Introduce yourself and learn to speak before an audience

The year is 1966. The fifth from among Hrishikesh Mukherjee’s films is running in cinema theatres all over India. One among the thousands watching the film is an 18-year-old boy. He loves it…so much so that he decides if he ever has a daughter, he will name her after the film.

18 years later, that boy grows up to be a banker and does have a daughter. And he stands by the decision he made all the same.

The banker was my father and the movie was the 1966 classic - Anupama.

Anupama comes from the Sanskrit root ‘Upama’ which means comparison or very loosely, title. ‘an’ is a negative Sanskrit prefix and it means without. So, the word Anupama means without comparison or incomparable. It means unique. And I hope I will have lived up to the name by the end of my days.

Born and brought up in Nagpur - the Orange City of India, I have lived there most of my life. I studied in a school whose motto was ‘Sa Vidya Ya Vimuktaye’ – ‘Knowledge is that which liberates’…and true to the words, my school gave me enough opportunities to broaden my horizons and liberate my mind. I am indebted to my school for most of what I am today.

I have always performed decently in school and college exams. But I believe it only enabled me to fill the educational qualifications table in most of the forms. I believe in what Mark Twain said “Don’t let your schooling come in the way of your Education.” It’s what I did apart from studying that defines me as I am.

I underwent 7 rigorous years of Basketball Coaching and had a short stint with Korfball when I was in school. I played State-Level Inter-School tournaments and explored quite a few cities in Maharashtra as part of the tours. Basketball has taught me important lessons that are not a part of school curricula. Teamwork, sportsman spirit and power of practice are just a few of them.

I also learnt Hindustani Classical Music but ironically I am the English Vocalist for the office band Vocals n Chords. Music – all genres right from Indian Classical to Hard Rock – is my lifeblood. It is the way it transcends boundaries and prejudices, the way it can be enjoyed in solitude as well as in a group, the way it can take you to a spiritual plane that attracts me. Music is one of my most loved indulgences!

I was always involved in one or the other oratory activity in school and college. The zenith was when I won the National Science Seminar in 1999. It was not so much the seminar itself as the participants that benefited me. I met 31 other students – one from each state of India and came to know of various cultural aspects of the lesser-known states like the seven sisters of the North East. The seminar and the science are long forgotten but the precious friendships continue to enrich my life.

I am an electrical engineer from Visvesvaraya National Institute of Technology, Nagpur. And engineering too was not without it’s fair share of life lessons. For example, the Fourier Transforms that help an electrical engineer to analyze the most complex of waveforms by breaking them down into simpler and fundamental waves taught me this: any problem in life can be broken into simpler components and then it doesn’t seem as daunting. All through college also I was constantly involved in extra-curricular activities like public speaking, singing, sports and being a member of various student bodies. All of them have ameliorated my life and sculpted my personality in their own way.

My other interests include reading and writing. I read indiscriminately and enjoy it thoroughly. My favourite book remains ‘Tuesdays with Morrie’. It is the story of a dying professor and one of his old students. It is about realizing what the really important things in life are – nature, the people around you, their emotions…and not maddening success and money that leave you completely disconnected from your family and friends.

That is about my hobbies and interests and in effect about me.

I would like to end with a few lines from one of my two favourite poems ‘If’ by Rudyard Kipling, the other being Anyway. The whole poem is worth being etched in Gold and read like a prayer but the last lines summarize it well…

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!