A Frozen Morning and the Whirling Wheels of Change

January 29, 2008

Yesterday the last Test at Adelaide was drawn.

The disappointment is for all of us. Hadn't RP Singh been injured midway through the game, the Aussies would have really tasted the salt of struggle with the massive 526 scored by India in the first innings.

The draw means we lost the series 2–1. This could have been the other way, or at least 1–1, hadn't there been blunders, known or unknown, by Benson and Bucknor.

Yet, on a positive note, Sehwag returned to form with his oft-usual sparkling, risky, adventurous 151 in the second innings on the last day.

Yesterday was the third coldest day of the season. The sky was partly cloudy and, in the absence of the sun's full benign smile, icy winds froze North Indians to their bones.

On my part, I was not shivering with cold. Hot, pulse-racing, exciting, challenging pinpricks kept me busy almost throughout the day.

ELI Research, the U.S.-based research and information company, had invited me for the post of content writer.

While the pre-twilight night stood almost frozen with frost, I set out at a quarter past six. I got a bus direct to Faridabad from Sonipat.

Delhi seems to have lost its identity—the particular picture that comes to your mind as the most striking, stabilizing and defining element about a particular place.

The fast wheels of development and construction are so rattlingly whirling that your eyes are caught in the blind storm. Every month sees uncountable additions to the roads, bridges, blocks, malls, more cars, more crowds.

There is no permanent image of Delhi.

It is a fastly, furiously changing, re-changing, redefining behemoth.

Even the winter seems lost in its fiery, unfolding garbs.

But then the mountain-high difference between the haves and have-nots strikes you with its poignant permanency to bring some warm feeling of familiarity and even solace.

Mobiles now keep people busy—the great homogenizer. Between the two extremities, you come across numerous small creatures lost happily in a maze with mobiles in their hands.

Faridabad, furtively and greedily suckling the teats of development and real-estate growth in the udder of Mother Metropolitan, is fattening up speedily like a live and kicking calf.

ELI's office is in Sector 16, near Sagar Cinema.

These are three-storeyed office and commercial blocks. On the first floor, you have shops of medicine, eateries, consumer items, departmental stores and groceries. On the upper two storeys, you have posh offices of nationals and multinationals.

ELI is a new entrant in the resurgent Indian market, where Western firms outsourcing their work is becoming almost a regular feature of their operations these days.

The operations of ELI started in May last year.

The director, Mr. Ajay Gupta, incidentally, is one of the most gracious, easy-mannered, uncomplicated, committed and warm-hearted team leaders I have ever come across.

He is working like a busy bee to take the company to a fully operational level. Staff is being built up, plus furnishing is being set up over the top floor of the entire block.

He is the first to come to the office and the last one to go.

He greeted me warmly, offered a still warmer cup of coffee, and talked nicely and freely.

My written test copy now goes to the USA.

If shortlisted, I will be going through a teleconference.