Disclaimer - This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and places either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
However, the main characters of Sid and Shreya are real. Events and incidents portrayed in the book are real. All the animals, dogs, cat, horse are real. Where ever actual/real names of the places are used, it is a deliberate usage.
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1 June 2015
Released on 1 June 2015, the book is now available in India and internationally.
India : Grab your copy from Amazon (http://amzn.to/1LeWta9) or Flipkart (http://bit.ly/1cLkAyb) or book stores near you across India.
International : http://www.amazon.com/My-Fantastic-Failures-Entrepreneurship-Relationship/dp/9382665412/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1435651278&sr=8-1&keywords=my+fantastic+failures
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Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
“So how does your day look like?” I asked Sid. At 11:00 AM in the morning. I was still lying in my bed.
We could not sleep after completing our last night discussion at 4:00 AM. Sid spent the night nursing me. I was dehydrated by vomiting. Change in drinking water did this to me. Terrible weakness and cold shivers made me miserable. I could not go to office. But one good thing was that we had one more day to catch up.
“I’ll be home mostly. No college these days. My final year graduation project is going on.”
“You don’t get companies in your college? Isn’t it that generally internships are done in companies?”
“Yes, companies visit our college too and mostly everyone is doing internships in companies. I too got the internship with a company but I didn’t opt for it. I am doing the cost benefit analysis study of DPOL as my project.”
“This is brilliant! But given that you don’t have a good equation with the management, how did your director allow you to do the project of your choice? I mean, he could have easily not allowed you and could have asked you to do a regular project with an apparel company?”
“True! In fact he was very strict on approving the internship synopsis for everyone. He wrote Re-do to every other student. And I was sure he would trash my idea. He could have made it mandatory to do internships only in companies. But still I gave it a try.” Sid said and smiled.
“And?” I asked. Could not wait for the pause he took for the smile.
“And I was surprised that he didn't even take time to write approved on my synopsis. Not only this, he said that he is confident that I will do a great project.”
"Hmm... was it because the episode where dad called him?"
"I don't think so because he had been appreciative of my DPOL in past. It's just that Mugdha Singh case spoiled the matters and I feared that he would take out the anger by disapproving my synopsis too. And why would I not fear it, teachers still kept me average on marks and the panel humiliated me. And he was part of all of it."
“Hmmm... I am glad at least he approved of your synopsis.” I said. “And how is it like now... you alone at it? You don’t have to go anywhere? I mean you at home at this hour?”
“I am not alone at it. It is three of us – Rahul Patna, Kumar Rahul and me. We meet every day in college in morning hours. College has given us one room. We meet and decide our day’s work and divide the responsibilities. We are driving it in pretty organized way. So it’s all good there.” He explained and gestured the good going with his thumbs up.
“Sounds good but how do you guys divide the work? No battle there?” I asked recalling my MBA days when we did projects and such battles were a challenge.
“Each of us has different capabilities so we divide the responsibilities based on our interests. Rahul Patna is very agile. A sportsman, he can’t sit still for more than 10 minutes so he does the running for all operations work. Kumar Rahul is good in analytics and I know what has to be done. So we have no fights at all!” Sid sounded promising and infused with passion.
Sitting up awake now, I too pulled out my laptop and placed it on my pillow and decided to know more about DPOL from www.august.synthasite.com, the website, which Sid mentioned to me last night.
“Un hun… patent – sounds kool eh~ But you really have it or you have written it just like that.” I asked him laughingly.
In the website it was written that DPOL holds a provisional patent. I remembered when I was in Sydney, he mentioned patent to me but I had a reason behind my doubt.
Sid had been notorious since childhood. And just two years back he proved that he had not changed. He gave me his resume to edit. After reading the first few lines of his resume, I realised he had given me my resume and not his. When I told him that by mistake he had given my resume to me, he said, it was his resume. When I said, it can’t be as it had my accolades mentioned on it. He said, you have done or I have done, it is the same thing. I was stunned. I then asked him, if he had written down there that he had done MBA also. To this he said, that he had not included it yet as he was still doing his graduation but he felt like he had done his MBA because I had done it.
“Patent is for real. Trust me.” He laughed out loud and said.
“Does that mean you have grown up in the two years I had been away? I took a dig on him again. “Good, good… tell me more about it.” I felt proud at heart but I contained it.
“Work on DPOL started in my sophomore that’s in 2006, my second year college. In 2007 I filed the patent and got the provisional patent by end of 2007. So we have a provisional patent on DPOL. As a final step, we need to now file for the final patent. It has to be filed after Dec 2008. There has to be a gap of one year between provisional and final patent.”
“This is great!” I could not hold back this time. “By the way, who wrote your patent?”
“Provisional I wrote myself but for final we may need to talk to the patent writers.“ He replied.
“You wrote that?” I asked. One after the other, he had surprises lined up for me. “Now I am sure, you have grown up.”
I knew he could do things, which many would not indulge into like trying to fix a fuse bulb or attempting to generate energy by floating a web of plastic balls in a bath tub but patent writing was a specialised skill. How could he do that? I wondered as I scrolled down to read further.
“Yes, I wrote.”
“Still in college and you already holding a patent, chaired the Textile convention, getting published on international green fashion and apparel forums, developed the sample DPOL product...” I said counting with my fingers. “You are doing very good boy!”
“Hmm... but have not been able to get any funding for my DPOL project. I have made business plans and submitted to many VCs (venture capitalists) but no funding so far.” He said.
“Hmm... ok. What do they say?” I asked.
“They have been impressed but they do not invest in fashion and apparel business, which involves development and production of apparels.” He said and got back to working on his laptop.
“What do they fund?” I asked and again interrupted him.
“IT based business, for example, the start-ups to develop mobile applications, web market initiatives and so on.”
“Hmm...”
I noted a few names of the VCs from Sid and read about them on the internet. Next I remembered waking up when sun had settled. It was cold around, curtains closed and the lights were on. I had dozed off for the heavy dose of medication.
“Want to come out for a walk? Sid asked. He was waiting for me to wake up.
“Yes, why not.”
“Ok... I want to take you to the aquarium shop. I wish to get an aquarium for us but was waiting for you to approve of it.” He said.
On our way to the aquarium shop, I asked Sid. “You didn’t sleep?”
“No”
“What were you doing for so long on the computer?” I asked.
“I am trying to write the patent.”
“You mean the final patent?” I asked.
“Yes”
“But isn’t it the professional writers who write it? And you too mentioned that you want to seek their help.”
“Yes, they write but I heard they charge a lot so who knows I may have to write it myself.” He said.
“I know you can do it but it may get rejected or it may take time for it to be approved.” I said.
“Hmm... I have also researched on the patent writers in Bangalore area. But no harm to begin writing, will hand over my work to the writer once we find one.” He said.
Quote:‘To begin’ is the most important thing. Start with the things that are in your hand. This unlocks what is ahead.
“So let’s go and meet them.” I said.
“I have their numbers. Would you call them?” He asked me.
“Ok I will after we return home. First find the aquarium and fishes you want.”
We returned home with a beautiful aquarium. Very carefully Sid placed it on the only table in our room. We got two white angel fish and two bright orange gold fish. They were a safe combination to keep unlike the tiger fish, which eat up the other fish. But still we were asked by the seller to observe the behavior for few days.
Naming the fishes, introducing them to the members of the house and attending to the suggestions to decorate the aquarium with glass pebbles and plants took few hours. But finally the euphoria of the new aquarium settled down to give us time to call up the patent writers. Out of 3 shortlisted, we decided to meet this lady who lived near IIM Bangalore. We fixed an appointment for the next day.
A middle aged woman attended to us. She settled us in an office, which initially must have been the porch of the house. Very enterprising, the thought crossed my mind. I liked it.
Asking us to wait for ten minutes she went to join the ongoing evening pooja and mantra recitation going on in her house.
“Who wrote the provisional patent for you?” She asked after quickly reading the summary of the provisional patent.
Sid smiled looking at her and she knew the answer.
“You wrote that?” Clearly surprised, she asked to confirm. “Has it been approved?”
“Yes it is approved and it is almost 1 year that we are holding the provisional patent.”
She flipped through the loosely stapled six pages, which we gave to her. Then looking closely at a round blue ink stamp she said. “Yes, it shows here that you are going to complete 1 year with it this December.”
“Yes” Sid said.
She took a long breath. It was evident she was impressed. She picked up a fluorescent highlighter and carefully marked up the six pages as she read through.
Next, a discussion followed. She asked a few questions from Sid. She was trying to understand the DPOL concept. And it didn’t take long that she surprised us. She mentioned about the Japanese designer who had a patent that was close to Sid’s concept. She was a lawyer, who had nothing to do with designing but she was well informed.
This turned out to be Sid’s turn to be impressed by her. Sid instantly connected with her and explained her about DPOL in detail. The lady leaned back on her chair to see the enthusiasm in Sid as he continued to explain using diagrams and when Sid stopped, she smiled and said.
“No one can do this better than you Sid. You must write the final patent yourself.”
Sid and I quickly exchanged a glance and then looked at her.
“No, I am serious. Not only will you do the justice to this patent but will also save a lot of money.”
She explained the standard process to write the patent and asked us to dispatch the patent by post.
“Can you do it?” I asked Sid as she also looked at Sid expecting a promising nod.
“Ok... yes, I will write it.”
I still wanted to know how much money we were going to save. I asked. “I am just asking... generally what are the charges to get a patent written?”
“Starts Rs. 80,000.00. Can go up to 3-5 lakhs” she said.
“Ok.” I said hiding my surprise after learning the amount to write a few pages. For a moment I contemplated to become a patent writer myself.
The coming days saw Sid work on internship with the two Rahuls. Apart from proving the economic viability of DPOL by doing the cost benefit analysis, now they were also developing the second sample of DPOL. After the white black dress, this time it was a light pink and wine colored silk texture jacket with a big Chinese dragon on it. And the evenings he spent writing the patent and publishing his work internationally in relevant forums.
The time first sample of DPOL was made in 2006, I wasn't around so it was exciting to see the second sample being developed in front of me. It was a lot of action around and a great opportunity for me to catch up on what I had missed for two years.
Not only my job and Sid’s to-do list kept us busy, the house in which we lived also filled up for all the action I missed. We were living in the most happening house of HSR layout.
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Updated on - 25 August 2014
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Updated on - 19 August 2014
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
“So finally, did they fail you in internship?” I asked.
“No, they were just building pressure on me. They could not fail me for the fear of the court case and did let me go to internship after few days by limiting the meetings to twice in a week. My internship got over, I entered fourth year of my college but the harassment continued. Teachers also continued to give me average marks, no matter how well I performed. Almost all the teachers were against me. But yes, there were few teachers who understood that wrong was being done to me. But no one supported me in front of the director. They said to me, institution is always bigger than the individual. With passing days, the director got worse. He increased the pressure on me to withdraw the case. One day I succumbed to it and called up dad and said that I feel like killing myself.”
“I can’t believe you can even think of this.” I said. I was sitting in disbelief. “What did dad say to you?”
I wanted to know how my very practical father would have handled this situation.
“As always, he was not surprised at all and asked me, where was I at that moment. I told him I was standing outside the director’s cabin.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Dad said that I will not stop you. This is your decision. But you first finish the reason of all this. Dad replied with the same demeanour and poise which he maintains in all situations. Instead of dad I was surprised hearing this from dad. I was disturbed so I had blurted out to him that ‘I feel like killing myself’ but I didn’t mean it. But dad didn’t take this lightly and before I could say anything more dad had already replied to me.”
I knew my father would have replied this. This reminded of a day when I was sitting with him one evening and asked him that what would he do if he comes to know that I had fallen for a bad company in my college and had started smoking and drinking. To this he laughed and replied. Why would I do anything? It is your body. You have to take care of it. Parents can’t be with children all the time. We took care of you when you were small. We have done our best to imbibe the wisdom in you which will make you decide the right and wrong for yourself. And I believe whatever you decide will be best for you. At the end of the discussion also, he didn’t display even remotest of curiosity to know if I actually was into smoking or drinking and why did I ask the question.
“What happened next?” I asked Sid smilingly after having finished reflecting on one of a classic answer by my father.
“Dad asked me to stay where ever I was and wait for his call. I waited outside the director’s cabin. After few minutes I heard the director close his cabin from inside and within minutes dad called me. He assured me that the director will not trouble me again.”
“But what could he do sitting a thousand kilometres away?” I was laughing.
“He called up the director and told him about my call and also told what he as a father suggested me about killing the reason before killing self. To this the director asked him, where was I. Dad told him that I was waiting right outside his office. And I understood that’s why director closed his cabin from inside just before dad called me.”
“So did things change?” I asked. My heart was jumping with excitement to know if one phone call could change anything.
“Oh yes, definitely. That day onwards, the director wasn’t hostile and managed a smiley on his face when he saw me.” Sid laughed. “Whenever he spoke to me he would put an extra softness. He assured me that the issue would be sorted soon but he never told me how he was thinking to resolve the issue and I too didn’t ask.”
“What was with the court case? Was it going on?”
“Yes, it went on. But I was winning it. The recordings and scripts I prepared were very helpful. Whenever I spoke with my lawyer, he appreciated me for doing the recordings.” Sid said. “And you know what? One day, the director asked me to come and meet him. My hands were busy, so I offloaded few things on his table. He carefully looked at the things and pointed to a pen drive and asked me ‘I hope you are not recording. I have called you just for a general discussion about your technology.’ I never knew the secret of pen drive recordings could reach him.” Sid laughed.
“And what is the status now?” I asked.
“The case is on. Whenever there are hearings the concerned teachers go to Delhi. I am aware, which particular day which faculty will be absent. The students are told that the teachers have gone to Delhi to attend meetings in the Delhi branch of our college. However, the truth is something else.” Sid winked his eyes and smiled. I was glad he was smiling through his struggle.
“Where does the case appear to be moving?” I asked.
“Clearly in my favour. My friends have already declared that I have won the case.” Sid was happy as he said this. “The teachers and attendants who supported me from behind are now standing with me. And the college management also appears to have acknowledged the defeat. They fear I may go to media.”
“How do you know they fear you going to media?”
“Few days back, I got a call. The lady said she was a reporter with Education Times, Bangalore. She started with saying that she came to know about my case and wanted to include my story in their newspaper. But I knew it was not a genuine call.”
“How did you know that?” I said running my hand in my hair thinking hard how I would have judged if the call was genuine if I received it.
“The situation I am in, I am wary before taking any calls. I noticed this number too before answering the call. It was my college’s board room series number. I confronted the caller right away and said that it was my college number that displayed when she called. The next few seconds of silence confirmed, I was correct. After the silence, the lady baffled and said that there may be some error in number display. And not taking the call further, she disconnected the call. Hilarious! Isn’t it?”
“Yes, how could they consider you so naïve? Anyways, but why did the lady disguise as a reporter and called you?”
“She was trying to confirm if I was already talking to any media. Before starting to speak to her I would have mentioned to her if I was already speaking to any media. The second thing she could have wanted to know was that what all I would share with the media if I go on telling about my case.”
“Hmm... interesting! I would have never been able to think of this.”
“I too could have not. But this case has sharpened my faculties to think, infer and observe.”
“Hmm... attending the hearings in Delhi does not disturb your classes?”
“My lawyers say that I have done my bit by providing the recordings so they can manage without me. All I have to go is for the final hearing.”
“Hmm... I admire your courage and determination to fight for your right. That too this early! No one wants to mess up with college. How do you manage to do all this? I mean were you not afraid before filing the case?” I asked.
“If I had not fought for my right, I would have lost myself. And I didn’t want to lose myself. Fear of losing myself was too tall in front of the fear of failure.“
It was 4:00 am. We decided to sleep.
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13 August 2014 - Chapter 1 isn't over yet. More to come in 1-2 days.
19 August 2014 - As promised... updated above... 'The court case - when I braved my college'
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Updated on - 13 August 2014
Dear blog friends,
Thank you very much for taking out time and visiting my blog. Your visits, comments and personal messages keep me going. They mean a lot to me. Please keep them going.
Before we move on to the next story, I wanted to share few illustrations that Siddhartha prepared for an event in the story. I have posted it on the Facebook page for 'My Fantastic Failures' but I missed to share it here. So here it is for you.
Let me know, if you like it.
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Updated on - 8 August 2014
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
“What have you been doing?” I asked Sid who was in his fourth year of studying Apparel Technology at NAFT (National Academy of Fashion Technology) Bangalore. NAFT is considered one of the top most colleges of fashion in India. It has branches all over the country.
“Green and ethical fashion is what I have been working on.” Sid replied smilingly.
In second year of his college, Sid had developed a technology, which he named DPOL (Direct Panel On Loom). DPOL was a technology to develop eco friendly clothes and had very unique and interesting features.
I decided to talk about it later as there was something more pressing for me to know.
“And… what about the court case?”
“Going on but I have almost won it. Some final hearings are due.“
It was a year ago in 2007 when he filed a case on his college. The problem was not the college but a teacher who college didn’t check when she did wrong with Sid’s academic result.
“Ok good, but was there a need to fight for it?”
He smiled back and I knew he conserved his answer for a later time. Who would know this better than me! I respected it and decided to wait for the time when he would like to share the story with me.
This was the quick conversation between Sid and me as we briskly made our way out of the Bangalore arrivals at the airport. 9:00 PM. My flight from New Delhi arrived on time. Sid had come to receive me at the airport.
We were meeting after close to two years. Completing my MBA from Christ College Bangalore in year 2006, I joined one of the fastest growing Indian MNC, Satyamine Computer Services. Within 3 months I moved to work for one of its clients to Sydney, Australia.
I had returned back to India after almost two years. I stayed at home for a month and then travelled to Bangalore to join Satyamine, Bangalore office.
“You look famished. Are you not eating?” I changed the topic pulling his leg.
“You see, I am busy in setting up the business.” He smiled and replied.
He smiled because there was a reason behind it. The reason was the choice he had made.
Reason - Excerpt from here has been shared in the previous post - 'What it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus'
After reading the excerpt continue reading here....
“Yes, I see that you continue to remain original. You fear no Mohit, Mehul and you will definitely create jobs!“ I laughed.
As we spoke, we made our way outside the airport and I could not cease to appreciate the beautiful Bangalore airport built by GMR.
“This new airport looks good. But isn’t it very far from the city?” We were now standing at the departures waiting for the bus service bound for HSR layout.
“Yes it is but one good thing is the excellent bus service with high frequency. Ah, see here it is.” He said pointing to a beautiful red coloured bus which came and stood in front of us.
“So you were telling me about DPOL.” I asked after having settled in the bus. He didn’t appear interested in discussing the court case so I decided to know from him more about what he was excitingly talking about.
And he continued. “With DPOL one can produce ready to stitch shaped woven garment components. This considerably increases fabric efficiency by approx 15%-22% and reduces lead time by approx 50%. In simple words, DPOL can reduce the wastage of the cloth. That’s how clothes produced from DPOL are eco-friendly.”
“This is wonderful. And who gave the name DPOL?”
“One of my professors has been highly appreciative of my work. He only suggested that I can call it DPOL.”
“Ok, good. So is DPOL popular within your college or people outside also know about it?”
“I have shared my work with many professors in the United States and they have good feedback about DPOL. Have published it in ethical and green fashion forums on internet too and last month I was invited to chair the Textile convention – Bangalore Chapter.”
“Wow! I didn’t know you have progressed so well on this.” I said beaming with happiness and turned towards him to know more details. “So are you using threads on the loom as a starting point to create a DPOL fabric?” I asked.
I wasn’t from a textile background so didn’t exactly understand what he was saying but I could follow he was using loom in the developing the DPOL fabric. I inferred it from the full form of DPOL – direct panel on loom.
“Yes, threads are being used on the loom as the starting point.”
“And the outcome of this whole process is a DPOL fabric?” I said taking the conversation further. He answers only what is asked.
“Yes, a marked up fabric. ‘Marked up’ makes it a DPOL fabric.” He said.
“Ok and then this fabric can be cut on mark-ups?”
“Yes.” He said looking out of the bus window. “This is the stop we need to get down.”
He got up to pull our bags from the bag carrier. Time flew in the discussion. Didn’t realise we sat in the bus for two hours.
I looked around the house to make room for my bags. We lived in one of the oldest house of HSR Layout, which was half a kilometre away from Sid’s college. This independent faded cream colour ground floor house with no construction on first floor was pretty big but it still was a little small for us. And the reason was that at any point of time, there lived no less than 6 students in this house.
It was a single storey house with three rooms to house two students in each room, two set of toilet and bathrooms, kitchen, living area, store area a narrow back yard but a big porch in front of the house and a staircase leading to the terrace. The best part was that the landlord visited only once in six months. With all these ideal conditions, this oldest house had actually transformed into the youngest and most happening house of HSR layout.
The house was always buzzing with parties, guitar practices and pranks. The house was also an emotional support for the students. To some local students it was a guest house, if parents didn’t allow them to enter home for they were late to return after a late night pub. For others who were going through a breakup, it was a place to find a shoulder to cry and nurse the wounds. Open all the times, the house was kind of 24x7 helpline.
The design of the house was very interesting – credit to its owner, an old man who followed Vaastu. All the three rooms of the house were adjacent to each other like the compartments of a train. The walls of different room were painted in different colours like fluorescent green, dirty pink and the most normally coloured room in the house was where Sid lived had cream walls. It was the corner room. Like all other rooms, this room also had 2 set of mattress with no bed, one table, one chair bur the only thing that was different here was a computer with a TV tuner card. So this room was eventually also a common room or an entertainment room.
“You must be hungry. Here is your favourite Masala dosa.” Sid had packed dinner for us from Food Days, an eating joint near to his college.
“You guys still don’t have a kitchen set up?” I asked.
“Not possible to have a kitchen and an organized cooking system in this house. You know it. Why are you asking?”
I stayed in this house for 4 months before leaving for Sydney.
“Hmm... I can understand”
I remembered the challenges I faced in setting up the kitchen 2 years back. Those who believed to sneak in and eat up what the others prepared outnumbered those who wanted to plan and cook.
After having done with the dinner, unpacking my bags, taking a shower and meeting up with everyone, finally Sid and I settled in our room.
“Can you show me the DPOL sample products?” I asked.
When I was making space for my clothes in Sid’s cupboard, he helped me moving a big black polythene bag to the top most section of the cupboard. He mentioned it contained DPOL fabric, which he had planned to show me the next day.
Seeing me interested, he pulled out that black polythene. From that he pulled out a very fine black and white dress.
“It is a dress. Where is the DPOL? I mean the fabric.”
“I got the dress stitched from the fabric.” He said.
“Oh ok, got it.” I said, very carefully feeling the texture of the dress. “It is so beautiful and the fabric is like silk.”
He smiled with pride and looked at me. It reminded me of school days when he used to show his sketches and painting to me and waited for me to continue saying adjectives for his art. He had been immensely creative since childhood.
“Have you documented DPOL anywhere? I mean you have progressed so far. There should be a record of the things.”
“Yes, I have the records. Check http://august.synthasite.com/ when you find time. You have all the information about DPOL in this website.”
“Great, I will read it. And what is the next step?” I was excited to know the plan forward and be a part of it.
To this he replied to me. “I have done my part, now you are here, I was waiting for you. Tell me what next.”
I didn’t expect this coming my way so early. “Hmm... ok, let me first read more about DPOL and understand what all you have done so far then we will decide the plan forward.”
It was 12:30 AM and we were still nowhere near to sleep. Because of jet lag I was not able to sleep and Sid used to sleep very late in night. So it turned out to be the best time to talk with no disturbance.
“Tell me what more is happening.” I asked.
Catching up after two years, we had so much to discuss. And it is now, when he unfolded on the court case.
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Updated on - 6 August 2014
'Real Sid' Vs 'Book Sid'
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
Excerpt from Sub-section titled 'What it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus –'
It was not at all natural and obvious for Sid to be setting up his own business. In fact the surroundings in which we were raised was capable enough to turn hostile towards you and deem you as a failure in life, if given even a weakest signal of you dreaming to set up your business. Well, I am talking about what it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus. For that matter, to be precise, we were born and brought up in IIT Roorkee, Saharanpur campus.
For those, who do not know what life is for those who live in an IIT campus, the explanation is here. Generally, the kids living in normal circumstances face the expectation pressure from their parents and surroundings when they reach class 10 or 12. This is the time they write their boards exams or IIT JEE or medical exams. That’s the normal pressure I had seen my school friends undergo too. I am talking about 1990s. But the kids living in campus were a rare species and their condition hasn’t changed much today too. We face competition right from the moment we go to our kindergarten. If the schools are not enough, parents put kids through numerous competitions, which they organize in ladies club or hobby club or staff club.
‘Why only us?’ This question bothered me for years until I discovered a very valid reason behind it. For organizing an event, what is the foremost thing you need? Well, the most important thing is to find and fund a venue. But the luxury of living in the campus was such that the aunts had a variety of venues at their disposal. Available free of cost, they used the auditorium, guest house or the large sprawling lawns to organize competitions for kids.
For them it served the purpose of entertainment. But my point was that why they had to entertain themselves at the cost of our happiness. I mean they could have used the beautiful facility to jolly well organize picnics and food festivals. But no, organizing food festivals would have required them to cook. So the easiest was to organize post event dinner and lunch from the university mess and use the large army of kids for entertainment. That is how, sometimes in fancy dress we walked the stage in disguise of beggars, vegetable vendor, superman, Dracula etc. and sometimes we were racing with a lemon in our spoons, making every possible attempt to reach the finish line at first place to claim a Bournvita quiz book as the first prize and get in another trap where parents expected us to participate in quiz competitions few months later.
And these races had something about them. They were particularly organized on Republic day and Independence day. So while the nation celebrated independence, I never felt independent on an independence day.
If this was not less than all our life we were trained to sleep by first looking at the study room lights of other kids. This meant you can’t be the first one to switch off the lights of your study room and go to sleep. And if you really wanted to delight your parents, you got to be awake unless those two particular kids don’t turn off the lights. They were Mohit and Mehul. Mohit was a year elder to me and Mehul was my age. They both were the biggest enemy for every kid in the campus. Given a chance, the other 20 of us could beat them up for they were the only reason of unhappiness in our life. They scored a 96 percentile and yet their family would come across as the disaster struck family. And when they were not happy even at a 96 percentile, how our parent treated us was obvious.
I cursed Mohit, Mehul all my life but when wisdom prevailed I realised another reason for our sufferings. Designed by Swedish people, our houses no doubt were beautiful and a favourite topic of study for the architecture branch students but they had my dislike because the study rooms faced the road and were visible to everyone. These rooms in fact were the guest rooms but in all the houses parents unanimously had converted them into study rooms.
It got worse during the exams results time. In every single household, parents chanted the names of Mohit and Mehul to humiliate their kids. You know why? Because no matter how much you study, you score less than Mohit and Mehul.
In exam results days it was not Brakha Dutt or Rajdeep Sardesai who gave away the breaking news but it was the household maids who turned into most sought out reporters. They were all uneducated but they all knew the marks of every single kid of campus on their fingertips.
Maids hated Mohit and Mehul because their mother was a miser. She would not give tea, biscuit and other perks to the maids but maids didn’t hesitate to display their love and admiration on Mohit and Mehul at the results time. It was because reporting Mohit and Mehul marks earned them uninterrupted supply of tea and biscuits from our mothers.
Apart from the marks, for an extra biscuit from our mothers, they also reported on what Mohit, Mehul ate, what time they woke up, where did they sit and study, what guide books they referred, what programs they watched on TV, the position of their beds – this was the reporting on Vaastu.
We hated maids. But their reporting sometime helped us too. Especially when due to bad results, sometimes our friends were not allowed to come for the park meetings.
There is a famous Minkoo bhaiya’s story about it. In the evenings at 6:00 PM, post result days, we collected in our campus park to share our sorry state, discuss the brutalities inflicted on us and to hatch a plan to boycott the Mohit, Mehul brothers. Two such meetings went by but Minkoo bhaiya didn’t show up. Some said he was running high fever and some said they saw a red mark on his face. We were worried. But no one dared to go to his home for various reasons – his parents were strict, our results were fresh, they could ask our marks and spoil our mood with acidic comments.
We decided to wait for the maids to break the news. In the meantime the speculation was rife that Minkoo bhaiya’s absence was yet again due to his performance in Maths exams. Despite making all his sincere efforts, year after year he scored miserably in Maths and the irony was that his father was the professor of Mathematics. So obviously, the result days were toughest for him.
And finally, my ears that were on high alert caught the news. I heard the maid tell my mother that that last night when Minkoo bhaiya’s father asked him to be like Mohit and Mehul, a usually quite Minkoo bhaiya could not control it any longer and asked his father ‘Did I ever ask you to be Dhirubhai Ambani and make me a proud son?’ He earned a tight thrashing for it from his father. Living under such circumstances, who could be spared from getting affected? Our parents were also very obviously concerned and felt answerable and responsible to the belief system and lifestyle they had. But we were still fortunate for a reason. Our parents had succumbed to the social pressure however they harboured a secret desire for Sid and me. So while they liked talking to us about getting selected in IIT, which eventually we both wrote when we grew up, they also wanted us to become able to create jobs and not just settle taking one for ourselves. And to make us able they conditioned us to dream big. The outcome of this is what we became – didn’t make it to IIT but turned restless and ridiculously ambitious.
Subsection: Patent – Sounds kool eh~?
“So how does your day look like?” I asked Sid. At 11:00 AM in the morning. I was still lying in my bed.
We could not sleep after completing our last night discussion at 4:00 AM. Sid spent the night nursing me. I was dehydrated by vomiting. Change in drinking water did this to me. Terrible weakness and cold shivers made me miserable. I could not go to office. But one good thing was that we had one more day to catch up.
“I’ll be home mostly. No college these days. My final year graduation project is going on.”
“You don’t get companies in your college? Isn’t it that generally internships are done in companies?”
“Yes, companies visit our college too and mostly everyone is doing internships in companies. I too got the internship with a company but I didn’t opt for it. I am doing the cost benefit analysis study of DPOL as my project.”
“This is brilliant! But given that you don’t have a good equation with the management, how did your director allow you to do the project of your choice? I mean, he could have easily not allowed you and could have asked you to do a regular project with an apparel company?”
“True! In fact he was very strict on approving the internship synopsis for everyone. He wrote Re-do to every other student. And I was sure he would trash my idea. He could have made it mandatory to do internships only in companies. But still I gave it a try.” Sid said and smiled.
“And?” I asked. Could not wait for the pause he took for the smile.
“And I was surprised that he didn't even take time to write approved on my synopsis. Not only this, he said that he is confident that I will do a great project.”
"Hmm... was it because the episode where dad called him?"
"I don't think so because he had been appreciative of my DPOL in past. It's just that Mugdha Singh case spoiled the matters and I feared that he would take out the anger by disapproving my synopsis too. And why would I not fear it, teachers still kept me average on marks and the panel humiliated me. And he was part of all of it."
“Hmmm... I am glad at least he approved of your synopsis.” I said. “And how is it like now... you alone at it? You don’t have to go anywhere? I mean you at home at this hour?”
“I am not alone at it. It is three of us – Rahul Patna, Kumar Rahul and me. We meet every day in college in morning hours. College has given us one room. We meet and decide our day’s work and divide the responsibilities. We are driving it in pretty organized way. So it’s all good there.” He explained and gestured the good going with his thumbs up.
“Sounds good but how do you guys divide the work? No battle there?” I asked recalling my MBA days when we did projects and such battles were a challenge.
“Each of us has different capabilities so we divide the responsibilities based on our interests. Rahul Patna is very agile. A sportsman, he can’t sit still for more than 10 minutes so he does the running for all operations work. Kumar Rahul is good in analytics and I know what has to be done. So we have no fights at all!” Sid sounded promising and infused with passion.
Sitting up awake now, I too pulled out my laptop and placed it on my pillow and decided to know more about DPOL from www.august.synthasite.com, the website, which Sid mentioned to me last night.
“Un hun… patent – sounds kool eh~ But you really have it or you have written it just like that.” I asked him laughingly.
In the website it was written that DPOL holds a provisional patent. I remembered when I was in Sydney, he mentioned patent to me but I had a reason behind my doubt.
Sid had been notorious since childhood. And just two years back he proved that he had not changed. He gave me his resume to edit. After reading the first few lines of his resume, I realised he had given me my resume and not his. When I told him that by mistake he had given my resume to me, he said, it was his resume. When I said, it can’t be as it had my accolades mentioned on it. He said, you have done or I have done, it is the same thing. I was stunned. I then asked him, if he had written down there that he had done MBA also. To this he said, that he had not included it yet as he was still doing his graduation but he felt like he had done his MBA because I had done it.
“Patent is for real. Trust me.” He laughed out loud and said.
“Does that mean you have grown up in the two years I had been away? I took a dig on him again. “Good, good… tell me more about it.” I felt proud at heart but I contained it.
“Work on DPOL started in my sophomore that’s in 2006, my second year college. In 2007 I filed the patent and got the provisional patent by end of 2007. So we have a provisional patent on DPOL. As a final step, we need to now file for the final patent. It has to be filed after Dec 2008. There has to be a gap of one year between provisional and final patent.”
“This is great!” I could not hold back this time. “By the way, who wrote your patent?”
“Provisional I wrote myself but for final we may need to talk to the patent writers.“ He replied.
“You wrote that?” I asked. One after the other, he had surprises lined up for me. “Now I am sure, you have grown up.”
I knew he could do things, which many would not indulge into like trying to fix a fuse bulb or attempting to generate energy by floating a web of plastic balls in a bath tub but patent writing was a specialised skill. How could he do that? I wondered as I scrolled down to read further.
“Yes, I wrote.”
“Still in college and you already holding a patent, chaired the Textile convention, getting published on international green fashion and apparel forums, developed the sample DPOL product...” I said counting with my fingers. “You are doing very good boy!”
“Hmm... but have not been able to get any funding for my DPOL project. I have made business plans and submitted to many VCs (venture capitalists) but no funding so far.” He said.
“Hmm... ok. What do they say?” I asked.
“They have been impressed but they do not invest in fashion and apparel business, which involves development and production of apparels.” He said and got back to working on his laptop.
“What do they fund?” I asked and again interrupted him.
“IT based business, for example, the start-ups to develop mobile applications, web market initiatives and so on.”
“Hmm...”
I noted a few names of the VCs from Sid and read about them on the internet. Next I remembered waking up when sun had settled. It was cold around, curtains closed and the lights were on. I had dozed off for the heavy dose of medication.
“Want to come out for a walk? Sid asked. He was waiting for me to wake up.
“Yes, why not.”
“Ok... I want to take you to the aquarium shop. I wish to get an aquarium for us but was waiting for you to approve of it.” He said.
On our way to the aquarium shop, I asked Sid. “You didn’t sleep?”
“No”
“What were you doing for so long on the computer?” I asked.
“I am trying to write the patent.”
“You mean the final patent?” I asked.
“Yes”
“But isn’t it the professional writers who write it? And you too mentioned that you want to seek their help.”
“Yes, they write but I heard they charge a lot so who knows I may have to write it myself.” He said.
“I know you can do it but it may get rejected or it may take time for it to be approved.” I said.
“Hmm... I have also researched on the patent writers in Bangalore area. But no harm to begin writing, will hand over my work to the writer once we find one.” He said.
Quote:‘To begin’ is the most important thing. Start with the things that are in your hand. This unlocks what is ahead.
“So let’s go and meet them.” I said.
“I have their numbers. Would you call them?” He asked me.
“Ok I will after we return home. First find the aquarium and fishes you want.”
We returned home with a beautiful aquarium. Very carefully Sid placed it on the only table in our room. We got two white angel fish and two bright orange gold fish. They were a safe combination to keep unlike the tiger fish, which eat up the other fish. But still we were asked by the seller to observe the behavior for few days.
Naming the fishes, introducing them to the members of the house and attending to the suggestions to decorate the aquarium with glass pebbles and plants took few hours. But finally the euphoria of the new aquarium settled down to give us time to call up the patent writers. Out of 3 shortlisted, we decided to meet this lady who lived near IIM Bangalore. We fixed an appointment for the next day.
A middle aged woman attended to us. She settled us in an office, which initially must have been the porch of the house. Very enterprising, the thought crossed my mind. I liked it.
Asking us to wait for ten minutes she went to join the ongoing evening pooja and mantra recitation going on in her house.
“Who wrote the provisional patent for you?” She asked after quickly reading the summary of the provisional patent.
Sid smiled looking at her and she knew the answer.
“You wrote that?” Clearly surprised, she asked to confirm. “Has it been approved?”
“Yes it is approved and it is almost 1 year that we are holding the provisional patent.”
She flipped through the loosely stapled six pages, which we gave to her. Then looking closely at a round blue ink stamp she said. “Yes, it shows here that you are going to complete 1 year with it this December.”
“Yes” Sid said.
She took a long breath. It was evident she was impressed. She picked up a fluorescent highlighter and carefully marked up the six pages as she read through.
Next, a discussion followed. She asked a few questions from Sid. She was trying to understand the DPOL concept. And it didn’t take long that she surprised us. She mentioned about the Japanese designer who had a patent that was close to Sid’s concept. She was a lawyer, who had nothing to do with designing but she was well informed.
This turned out to be Sid’s turn to be impressed by her. Sid instantly connected with her and explained her about DPOL in detail. The lady leaned back on her chair to see the enthusiasm in Sid as he continued to explain using diagrams and when Sid stopped, she smiled and said.
“No one can do this better than you Sid. You must write the final patent yourself.”
Sid and I quickly exchanged a glance and then looked at her.
“No, I am serious. Not only will you do the justice to this patent but will also save a lot of money.”
She explained the standard process to write the patent and asked us to dispatch the patent by post.
“Can you do it?” I asked Sid as she also looked at Sid expecting a promising nod.
“Ok... yes, I will write it.”
I still wanted to know how much money we were going to save. I asked. “I am just asking... generally what are the charges to get a patent written?”
“Starts Rs. 80,000.00. Can go up to 3-5 lakhs” she said.
“Ok.” I said hiding my surprise after learning the amount to write a few pages. For a moment I contemplated to become a patent writer myself.
The coming days saw Sid work on internship with the two Rahuls. Apart from proving the economic viability of DPOL by doing the cost benefit analysis, now they were also developing the second sample of DPOL. After the white black dress, this time it was a light pink and wine colored silk texture jacket with a big Chinese dragon on it. And the evenings he spent writing the patent and publishing his work internationally in relevant forums.
The time first sample of DPOL was made in 2006, I wasn't around so it was exciting to see the second sample being developed in front of me. It was a lot of action around and a great opportunity for me to catch up on what I had missed for two years.
Not only my job and Sid’s to-do list kept us busy, the house in which we lived also filled up for all the action I missed. We were living in the most happening house of HSR layout.
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Updated on - 25 August 2014
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Updated on - 19 August 2014
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
Subsection: The court case – When I braved my college
12:30 AM – 4 AM, Feb 2008
“There is this Computer Science teacher. Her name is Mugdha Singh. She was teaching me in third year of my college in 2007. After the class, she asked the students to ask questions. I had a doubt, so I raised my hand and asked her the full form of “JVM”. It was constantly flashing on my computer as I tried to compile my program. She did not answer my question and I could see she felt offended.”
“Why offended?”
“May be because I was a good student and was the topper of all branches of our college across the country for two years in row now and she thought I was asking the question to pull her leg.”
“How can a teacher think like this?”
“She was a young teacher and inexperienced too. She also often fumbled while teaching. But that's fine. We all start somewhere someday. I always cooperated. I mostly knew what she taught and I helped her too at times.”
“Then why did you ask her the question?”
“It wasn't planned. I asked instantly. I saw JVM flashing on my computer and I asked her. I could have found out myself later but you know, I asked just casually thinking if she knows she will tell me. I sincerely wanted to know the answer but she took it wrong way?”
“Wrong way?” I asked.
“Yes, in the following exams, she marked me on F grade”
“You mean almost fail?”
“Not almost… It is Fail!”
“Did you not ask her?” I was sitting upright in anger now.
“Yes, I did. She said that I didn’t answer the way she wanted and without giving me a chance to speak she left the class. I went up to other students who received good grades. They were surprised to see me get an F and wondered why she was doing this to me. But I knew why she did this. I recalled her face when I asked the question in our last class before the exams.”
“So you accepted the F?”
“No. Few days later, I went to her and said that I want to see the copy and get it re-evaluated. She got infuriated and said that she cannot show the copy. She went on to say that the copies have been destroyed and that’s the rule of the college to destroy the copies after the exam.”
“What did you do then?” I asked.
“I discussed this with dad and he said that in IIT also they show the copy and my college is a central government body too. They will have to honour RTI (Right to Information).”
“So did you file the RTI?“
“Yes, I did. Delhi and Karnataka were the only two governments who passed it way back in 1997. I was fortunate to be in Karnataka. Dad told me the process. I had to fill a form and drop it in a post box. It was that simple! This is how I filed my first RTI.”
“What happened after filing RTI?”
“The director called me and showed me the copy. I brought the issue to his notice. He accepted the teacher’s mistake but he said he can’t do anything about it.”
“It means your teacher was lying about the copies being burnt away. Not good!” I said. “Well, anyways but did RTI help?”
“RTI worked. Next day, I received a call from Mugdha Singh. She said that she will increase my 14 marks but I will have to withdraw the RTI application.”
“What did you do then? Accepted 14 marks?” I asked.
“I did not accept the 14 marks and declined to withdraw the RTI I filed. She in fact infuriated me with the way she spoke to me. She sounded, she was doing me a big favour by making this offer and I would accept it readily.”
“Didn’t you ask her from where did she bring the copies that she said were burnt a week back?”
“You think I would have not asked? I asked her how she managed to revive my copy from ashes. She hung up on me.”
“What happened next?”
“She must have complained against me to the director because the next day when I saw the director in the college corridor, he didn’t appear the usual happy at the sight of me. And by afternoon I came to know that a panel was set up to investigate the case. The coming months saw many meetings where I was ordered to be present to hear the proceedings of the panel.”
“Sounds fair... they finally were making an endeavour to re-evaluate your copy.”
“It was nothing like it sounds. It was their way to threaten me and make me weak. This panel of four teachers warned me in their own best capacity that if I did not withdraw my RTI application they will not let me finish my college. By hook or crook they wanted me to settle with the 14 marks increase.”
“Unbelievable! But I must say you were brave to face this.”
“I had no option. I had to be strong. But there were times when I broke down though I didn’t show it outside. In fact I had no one to discuss what I was facing. At few instances, I tried to share with my friends but they could not relate to it.”
“I can understand but what did you do then?” I said.
“I continued attending the investigation of the panel. I had no choice but very soon I had an idea. No one believed the language they used in talking to me so I decided to record the sessions. I used the same pen drive that you gave me. I knew it could do small recordings. I started carrying this pen drive at all times in my pocket. I made sure that I wore shirts and trousers, which had pockets. This is how I recorded the proceedings of the panel discussions. Each evening I downloaded the recordings on to my computer and created a folder of the audio files. I also maintained a back up. And on weekends, I listened to the recordings to create a case file for myself.”
“What was your plan?”
“When I was doing this, I didn’t know where I would be using the recordings. All I knew was that I wanted to keep a proof of what was being done to me. But in few days, I realised this unending harassment was consuming a lot of my time. Listening to the recording and preparing the case also created a negative energy. This affected my DPOL work. It took a toll on my health too. With continued harassment I started experiencing the panic rush. My ears turned red and hot and I felt uncomfortable. Dreams haunted me where I saw myself standing in the panel discussion and being threatened by the panel that they would not let me finish my degree. I had to do something about it. I decided to talk about it with mom dad during my Diwali holidays.
12:30 AM – 4 AM, Feb 2008
“There is this Computer Science teacher. Her name is Mugdha Singh. She was teaching me in third year of my college in 2007. After the class, she asked the students to ask questions. I had a doubt, so I raised my hand and asked her the full form of “JVM”. It was constantly flashing on my computer as I tried to compile my program. She did not answer my question and I could see she felt offended.”
“Why offended?”
“May be because I was a good student and was the topper of all branches of our college across the country for two years in row now and she thought I was asking the question to pull her leg.”
“How can a teacher think like this?”
“She was a young teacher and inexperienced too. She also often fumbled while teaching. But that's fine. We all start somewhere someday. I always cooperated. I mostly knew what she taught and I helped her too at times.”
“Then why did you ask her the question?”
“It wasn't planned. I asked instantly. I saw JVM flashing on my computer and I asked her. I could have found out myself later but you know, I asked just casually thinking if she knows she will tell me. I sincerely wanted to know the answer but she took it wrong way?”
“Wrong way?” I asked.
“Yes, in the following exams, she marked me on F grade”
“You mean almost fail?”
“Not almost… It is Fail!”
“Did you not ask her?” I was sitting upright in anger now.
“Yes, I did. She said that I didn’t answer the way she wanted and without giving me a chance to speak she left the class. I went up to other students who received good grades. They were surprised to see me get an F and wondered why she was doing this to me. But I knew why she did this. I recalled her face when I asked the question in our last class before the exams.”
“So you accepted the F?”
“No. Few days later, I went to her and said that I want to see the copy and get it re-evaluated. She got infuriated and said that she cannot show the copy. She went on to say that the copies have been destroyed and that’s the rule of the college to destroy the copies after the exam.”
“What did you do then?” I asked.
“I discussed this with dad and he said that in IIT also they show the copy and my college is a central government body too. They will have to honour RTI (Right to Information).”
“So did you file the RTI?“
“Yes, I did. Delhi and Karnataka were the only two governments who passed it way back in 1997. I was fortunate to be in Karnataka. Dad told me the process. I had to fill a form and drop it in a post box. It was that simple! This is how I filed my first RTI.”
“What happened after filing RTI?”
“The director called me and showed me the copy. I brought the issue to his notice. He accepted the teacher’s mistake but he said he can’t do anything about it.”
“It means your teacher was lying about the copies being burnt away. Not good!” I said. “Well, anyways but did RTI help?”
“RTI worked. Next day, I received a call from Mugdha Singh. She said that she will increase my 14 marks but I will have to withdraw the RTI application.”
“What did you do then? Accepted 14 marks?” I asked.
“I did not accept the 14 marks and declined to withdraw the RTI I filed. She in fact infuriated me with the way she spoke to me. She sounded, she was doing me a big favour by making this offer and I would accept it readily.”
“Didn’t you ask her from where did she bring the copies that she said were burnt a week back?”
“You think I would have not asked? I asked her how she managed to revive my copy from ashes. She hung up on me.”
“What happened next?”
“She must have complained against me to the director because the next day when I saw the director in the college corridor, he didn’t appear the usual happy at the sight of me. And by afternoon I came to know that a panel was set up to investigate the case. The coming months saw many meetings where I was ordered to be present to hear the proceedings of the panel.”
“Sounds fair... they finally were making an endeavour to re-evaluate your copy.”
“It was nothing like it sounds. It was their way to threaten me and make me weak. This panel of four teachers warned me in their own best capacity that if I did not withdraw my RTI application they will not let me finish my college. By hook or crook they wanted me to settle with the 14 marks increase.”
“Unbelievable! But I must say you were brave to face this.”
“I had no option. I had to be strong. But there were times when I broke down though I didn’t show it outside. In fact I had no one to discuss what I was facing. At few instances, I tried to share with my friends but they could not relate to it.”
“I can understand but what did you do then?” I said.
“I continued attending the investigation of the panel. I had no choice but very soon I had an idea. No one believed the language they used in talking to me so I decided to record the sessions. I used the same pen drive that you gave me. I knew it could do small recordings. I started carrying this pen drive at all times in my pocket. I made sure that I wore shirts and trousers, which had pockets. This is how I recorded the proceedings of the panel discussions. Each evening I downloaded the recordings on to my computer and created a folder of the audio files. I also maintained a back up. And on weekends, I listened to the recordings to create a case file for myself.”
“What was your plan?”
“When I was doing this, I didn’t know where I would be using the recordings. All I knew was that I wanted to keep a proof of what was being done to me. But in few days, I realised this unending harassment was consuming a lot of my time. Listening to the recording and preparing the case also created a negative energy. This affected my DPOL work. It took a toll on my health too. With continued harassment I started experiencing the panic rush. My ears turned red and hot and I felt uncomfortable. Dreams haunted me where I saw myself standing in the panel discussion and being threatened by the panel that they would not let me finish my degree. I had to do something about it. I decided to talk about it with mom dad during my Diwali holidays.
First day at home for Diwali holidays, I spent whole of the day finding a suitable time to discuss this with mom and dad but I could not bring up the discussion. However, I could not hold it longer. I broke down the second day mid-night when I experienced the panic rush. I walked into mom dad’s room. Tears rolled down my eyes for the first time for this case. I woke them up and narrated the complete situation and asked them to help me file a case in high court. Within a month I flied the case in Delhi high court.”
“I can understand how you must have felt. We get emotional when we come near to parents. And it was important that you cried. And I must tell you that you did absolutely the right thing by filing the court case. But tell me how was this received in your college? Did other students come to know that you had done something like this?” I asked.
“Yes, the news that I had filed the case was widespread among all the college students and they were all supportive of me. On the other hand the director and the appointed panel increased the harassment. Now it was not just RTI but the case too that they wanted me to withdraw. The teachers kept me average on my grades. They didn’t let me top and didn’t fail me too. Worst was to come. In May 2007, my summer internship started. I was doing the internship at one of India's largest branded fabric and fashion retailers, which was located in the outskirts of Bangalore. I had to start early morning to travel 50 km one way and change three buses and walk quite a lot to reach the place. Despite knowing this the panel started calling me early morning every day for the day long meetings. This meant I either miss the internship or the panel meeting. I raised this concern in the meeting but the panel paid no heed to it. As a result, when I missed the internship, the panel came and warned me that if I did not go for the internship they will flunck me and deem my internship as incomplete. They knew it that it was practically not possible to attend the meetings until afternoon and then go to internship to reach for internship at 5:00 PM in the evening but they were doing all of it deliberately.”
“I can understand how you must have felt. We get emotional when we come near to parents. And it was important that you cried. And I must tell you that you did absolutely the right thing by filing the court case. But tell me how was this received in your college? Did other students come to know that you had done something like this?” I asked.
“Yes, the news that I had filed the case was widespread among all the college students and they were all supportive of me. On the other hand the director and the appointed panel increased the harassment. Now it was not just RTI but the case too that they wanted me to withdraw. The teachers kept me average on my grades. They didn’t let me top and didn’t fail me too. Worst was to come. In May 2007, my summer internship started. I was doing the internship at one of India's largest branded fabric and fashion retailers, which was located in the outskirts of Bangalore. I had to start early morning to travel 50 km one way and change three buses and walk quite a lot to reach the place. Despite knowing this the panel started calling me early morning every day for the day long meetings. This meant I either miss the internship or the panel meeting. I raised this concern in the meeting but the panel paid no heed to it. As a result, when I missed the internship, the panel came and warned me that if I did not go for the internship they will flunck me and deem my internship as incomplete. They knew it that it was practically not possible to attend the meetings until afternoon and then go to internship to reach for internship at 5:00 PM in the evening but they were doing all of it deliberately.”
“So finally, did they fail you in internship?” I asked.
“No, they were just building pressure on me. They could not fail me for the fear of the court case and did let me go to internship after few days by limiting the meetings to twice in a week. My internship got over, I entered fourth year of my college but the harassment continued. Teachers also continued to give me average marks, no matter how well I performed. Almost all the teachers were against me. But yes, there were few teachers who understood that wrong was being done to me. But no one supported me in front of the director. They said to me, institution is always bigger than the individual. With passing days, the director got worse. He increased the pressure on me to withdraw the case. One day I succumbed to it and called up dad and said that I feel like killing myself.”
“I can’t believe you can even think of this.” I said. I was sitting in disbelief. “What did dad say to you?”
I wanted to know how my very practical father would have handled this situation.
“As always, he was not surprised at all and asked me, where was I at that moment. I told him I was standing outside the director’s cabin.”
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Dad said that I will not stop you. This is your decision. But you first finish the reason of all this. Dad replied with the same demeanour and poise which he maintains in all situations. Instead of dad I was surprised hearing this from dad. I was disturbed so I had blurted out to him that ‘I feel like killing myself’ but I didn’t mean it. But dad didn’t take this lightly and before I could say anything more dad had already replied to me.”
I knew my father would have replied this. This reminded of a day when I was sitting with him one evening and asked him that what would he do if he comes to know that I had fallen for a bad company in my college and had started smoking and drinking. To this he laughed and replied. Why would I do anything? It is your body. You have to take care of it. Parents can’t be with children all the time. We took care of you when you were small. We have done our best to imbibe the wisdom in you which will make you decide the right and wrong for yourself. And I believe whatever you decide will be best for you. At the end of the discussion also, he didn’t display even remotest of curiosity to know if I actually was into smoking or drinking and why did I ask the question.
“What happened next?” I asked Sid smilingly after having finished reflecting on one of a classic answer by my father.
“Dad asked me to stay where ever I was and wait for his call. I waited outside the director’s cabin. After few minutes I heard the director close his cabin from inside and within minutes dad called me. He assured me that the director will not trouble me again.”
“But what could he do sitting a thousand kilometres away?” I was laughing.
“He called up the director and told him about my call and also told what he as a father suggested me about killing the reason before killing self. To this the director asked him, where was I. Dad told him that I was waiting right outside his office. And I understood that’s why director closed his cabin from inside just before dad called me.”
“So did things change?” I asked. My heart was jumping with excitement to know if one phone call could change anything.
“Oh yes, definitely. That day onwards, the director wasn’t hostile and managed a smiley on his face when he saw me.” Sid laughed. “Whenever he spoke to me he would put an extra softness. He assured me that the issue would be sorted soon but he never told me how he was thinking to resolve the issue and I too didn’t ask.”
“What was with the court case? Was it going on?”
“Yes, it went on. But I was winning it. The recordings and scripts I prepared were very helpful. Whenever I spoke with my lawyer, he appreciated me for doing the recordings.” Sid said. “And you know what? One day, the director asked me to come and meet him. My hands were busy, so I offloaded few things on his table. He carefully looked at the things and pointed to a pen drive and asked me ‘I hope you are not recording. I have called you just for a general discussion about your technology.’ I never knew the secret of pen drive recordings could reach him.” Sid laughed.
“And what is the status now?” I asked.
“The case is on. Whenever there are hearings the concerned teachers go to Delhi. I am aware, which particular day which faculty will be absent. The students are told that the teachers have gone to Delhi to attend meetings in the Delhi branch of our college. However, the truth is something else.” Sid winked his eyes and smiled. I was glad he was smiling through his struggle.
“Where does the case appear to be moving?” I asked.
“Clearly in my favour. My friends have already declared that I have won the case.” Sid was happy as he said this. “The teachers and attendants who supported me from behind are now standing with me. And the college management also appears to have acknowledged the defeat. They fear I may go to media.”
“How do you know they fear you going to media?”
“Few days back, I got a call. The lady said she was a reporter with Education Times, Bangalore. She started with saying that she came to know about my case and wanted to include my story in their newspaper. But I knew it was not a genuine call.”
“How did you know that?” I said running my hand in my hair thinking hard how I would have judged if the call was genuine if I received it.
“The situation I am in, I am wary before taking any calls. I noticed this number too before answering the call. It was my college’s board room series number. I confronted the caller right away and said that it was my college number that displayed when she called. The next few seconds of silence confirmed, I was correct. After the silence, the lady baffled and said that there may be some error in number display. And not taking the call further, she disconnected the call. Hilarious! Isn’t it?”
“Yes, how could they consider you so naïve? Anyways, but why did the lady disguise as a reporter and called you?”
“She was trying to confirm if I was already talking to any media. Before starting to speak to her I would have mentioned to her if I was already speaking to any media. The second thing she could have wanted to know was that what all I would share with the media if I go on telling about my case.”
“Hmm... interesting! I would have never been able to think of this.”
“I too could have not. But this case has sharpened my faculties to think, infer and observe.”
“Hmm... attending the hearings in Delhi does not disturb your classes?”
“My lawyers say that I have done my bit by providing the recordings so they can manage without me. All I have to go is for the final hearing.”
“Hmm... I admire your courage and determination to fight for your right. That too this early! No one wants to mess up with college. How do you manage to do all this? I mean were you not afraid before filing the case?” I asked.
“If I had not fought for my right, I would have lost myself. And I didn’t want to lose myself. Fear of losing myself was too tall in front of the fear of failure.“
It was 4:00 am. We decided to sleep.
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13 August 2014 - Chapter 1 isn't over yet. More to come in 1-2 days.
19 August 2014 - As promised... updated above... 'The court case - when I braved my college'
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Updated on - 13 August 2014
Dear blog friends,
Thank you very much for taking out time and visiting my blog. Your visits, comments and personal messages keep me going. They mean a lot to me. Please keep them going.
Before we move on to the next story, I wanted to share few illustrations that Siddhartha prepared for an event in the story. I have posted it on the Facebook page for 'My Fantastic Failures' but I missed to share it here. So here it is for you.
Let me know, if you like it.
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Updated on - 8 August 2014
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
“What have you been doing?” I asked Sid who was in his fourth year of studying Apparel Technology at NAFT (National Academy of Fashion Technology) Bangalore. NAFT is considered one of the top most colleges of fashion in India. It has branches all over the country.
“Green and ethical fashion is what I have been working on.” Sid replied smilingly.
In second year of his college, Sid had developed a technology, which he named DPOL (Direct Panel On Loom). DPOL was a technology to develop eco friendly clothes and had very unique and interesting features.
I decided to talk about it later as there was something more pressing for me to know.
“And… what about the court case?”
“Going on but I have almost won it. Some final hearings are due.“
It was a year ago in 2007 when he filed a case on his college. The problem was not the college but a teacher who college didn’t check when she did wrong with Sid’s academic result.
“Ok good, but was there a need to fight for it?”
He smiled back and I knew he conserved his answer for a later time. Who would know this better than me! I respected it and decided to wait for the time when he would like to share the story with me.
This was the quick conversation between Sid and me as we briskly made our way out of the Bangalore arrivals at the airport. 9:00 PM. My flight from New Delhi arrived on time. Sid had come to receive me at the airport.
We were meeting after close to two years. Completing my MBA from Christ College Bangalore in year 2006, I joined one of the fastest growing Indian MNC, Satyamine Computer Services. Within 3 months I moved to work for one of its clients to Sydney, Australia.
I had returned back to India after almost two years. I stayed at home for a month and then travelled to Bangalore to join Satyamine, Bangalore office.
“You look famished. Are you not eating?” I changed the topic pulling his leg.
“You see, I am busy in setting up the business.” He smiled and replied.
He smiled because there was a reason behind it. The reason was the choice he had made.
Reason - Excerpt from here has been shared in the previous post - 'What it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus'
After reading the excerpt continue reading here....
“Yes, I see that you continue to remain original. You fear no Mohit, Mehul and you will definitely create jobs!“ I laughed.
As we spoke, we made our way outside the airport and I could not cease to appreciate the beautiful Bangalore airport built by GMR.
“This new airport looks good. But isn’t it very far from the city?” We were now standing at the departures waiting for the bus service bound for HSR layout.
“Yes it is but one good thing is the excellent bus service with high frequency. Ah, see here it is.” He said pointing to a beautiful red coloured bus which came and stood in front of us.
“So you were telling me about DPOL.” I asked after having settled in the bus. He didn’t appear interested in discussing the court case so I decided to know from him more about what he was excitingly talking about.
And he continued. “With DPOL one can produce ready to stitch shaped woven garment components. This considerably increases fabric efficiency by approx 15%-22% and reduces lead time by approx 50%. In simple words, DPOL can reduce the wastage of the cloth. That’s how clothes produced from DPOL are eco-friendly.”
“This is wonderful. And who gave the name DPOL?”
“One of my professors has been highly appreciative of my work. He only suggested that I can call it DPOL.”
“Ok, good. So is DPOL popular within your college or people outside also know about it?”
“I have shared my work with many professors in the United States and they have good feedback about DPOL. Have published it in ethical and green fashion forums on internet too and last month I was invited to chair the Textile convention – Bangalore Chapter.”
“Wow! I didn’t know you have progressed so well on this.” I said beaming with happiness and turned towards him to know more details. “So are you using threads on the loom as a starting point to create a DPOL fabric?” I asked.
I wasn’t from a textile background so didn’t exactly understand what he was saying but I could follow he was using loom in the developing the DPOL fabric. I inferred it from the full form of DPOL – direct panel on loom.
“Yes, threads are being used on the loom as the starting point.”
“And the outcome of this whole process is a DPOL fabric?” I said taking the conversation further. He answers only what is asked.
“Yes, a marked up fabric. ‘Marked up’ makes it a DPOL fabric.” He said.
“Ok and then this fabric can be cut on mark-ups?”
“Yes.” He said looking out of the bus window. “This is the stop we need to get down.”
He got up to pull our bags from the bag carrier. Time flew in the discussion. Didn’t realise we sat in the bus for two hours.
I looked around the house to make room for my bags. We lived in one of the oldest house of HSR Layout, which was half a kilometre away from Sid’s college. This independent faded cream colour ground floor house with no construction on first floor was pretty big but it still was a little small for us. And the reason was that at any point of time, there lived no less than 6 students in this house.
It was a single storey house with three rooms to house two students in each room, two set of toilet and bathrooms, kitchen, living area, store area a narrow back yard but a big porch in front of the house and a staircase leading to the terrace. The best part was that the landlord visited only once in six months. With all these ideal conditions, this oldest house had actually transformed into the youngest and most happening house of HSR layout.
The house was always buzzing with parties, guitar practices and pranks. The house was also an emotional support for the students. To some local students it was a guest house, if parents didn’t allow them to enter home for they were late to return after a late night pub. For others who were going through a breakup, it was a place to find a shoulder to cry and nurse the wounds. Open all the times, the house was kind of 24x7 helpline.
The design of the house was very interesting – credit to its owner, an old man who followed Vaastu. All the three rooms of the house were adjacent to each other like the compartments of a train. The walls of different room were painted in different colours like fluorescent green, dirty pink and the most normally coloured room in the house was where Sid lived had cream walls. It was the corner room. Like all other rooms, this room also had 2 set of mattress with no bed, one table, one chair bur the only thing that was different here was a computer with a TV tuner card. So this room was eventually also a common room or an entertainment room.
“You must be hungry. Here is your favourite Masala dosa.” Sid had packed dinner for us from Food Days, an eating joint near to his college.
“You guys still don’t have a kitchen set up?” I asked.
“Not possible to have a kitchen and an organized cooking system in this house. You know it. Why are you asking?”
I stayed in this house for 4 months before leaving for Sydney.
“Hmm... I can understand”
I remembered the challenges I faced in setting up the kitchen 2 years back. Those who believed to sneak in and eat up what the others prepared outnumbered those who wanted to plan and cook.
After having done with the dinner, unpacking my bags, taking a shower and meeting up with everyone, finally Sid and I settled in our room.
“Can you show me the DPOL sample products?” I asked.
When I was making space for my clothes in Sid’s cupboard, he helped me moving a big black polythene bag to the top most section of the cupboard. He mentioned it contained DPOL fabric, which he had planned to show me the next day.
Seeing me interested, he pulled out that black polythene. From that he pulled out a very fine black and white dress.
“It is a dress. Where is the DPOL? I mean the fabric.”
“I got the dress stitched from the fabric.” He said.
“Oh ok, got it.” I said, very carefully feeling the texture of the dress. “It is so beautiful and the fabric is like silk.”
He smiled with pride and looked at me. It reminded me of school days when he used to show his sketches and painting to me and waited for me to continue saying adjectives for his art. He had been immensely creative since childhood.
“Have you documented DPOL anywhere? I mean you have progressed so far. There should be a record of the things.”
“Yes, I have the records. Check http://august.synthasite.com/ when you find time. You have all the information about DPOL in this website.”
“Great, I will read it. And what is the next step?” I was excited to know the plan forward and be a part of it.
To this he replied to me. “I have done my part, now you are here, I was waiting for you. Tell me what next.”
I didn’t expect this coming my way so early. “Hmm... ok, let me first read more about DPOL and understand what all you have done so far then we will decide the plan forward.”
It was 12:30 AM and we were still nowhere near to sleep. Because of jet lag I was not able to sleep and Sid used to sleep very late in night. So it turned out to be the best time to talk with no disturbance.
“Tell me what more is happening.” I asked.
Catching up after two years, we had so much to discuss. And it is now, when he unfolded on the court case.
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Updated on - 6 August 2014
'Real Sid' Vs 'Book Sid'
Chapter 1: Reunion in Bangalore, year 2008
Excerpt from Sub-section titled 'What it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus –'
Note: I am sharing only excerpts and snippets so that you don't get bored reading :) Thanks.
It was not at all natural and obvious for Sid to be setting up his own business. In fact the surroundings in which we were raised was capable enough to turn hostile towards you and deem you as a failure in life, if given even a weakest signal of you dreaming to set up your business. Well, I am talking about what it takes to be born and brought up in an IIT campus. For that matter, to be precise, we were born and brought up in IIT Roorkee, Saharanpur campus.
For those, who do not know what life is for those who live in an IIT campus, the explanation is here. Generally, the kids living in normal circumstances face the expectation pressure from their parents and surroundings when they reach class 10 or 12. This is the time they write their boards exams or IIT JEE or medical exams. That’s the normal pressure I had seen my school friends undergo too. I am talking about 1990s. But the kids living in campus were a rare species and their condition hasn’t changed much today too. We face competition right from the moment we go to our kindergarten. If the schools are not enough, parents put kids through numerous competitions, which they organize in ladies club or hobby club or staff club.
‘Why only us?’ This question bothered me for years until I discovered a very valid reason behind it. For organizing an event, what is the foremost thing you need? Well, the most important thing is to find and fund a venue. But the luxury of living in the campus was such that the aunts had a variety of venues at their disposal. Available free of cost, they used the auditorium, guest house or the large sprawling lawns to organize competitions for kids.
For them it served the purpose of entertainment. But my point was that why they had to entertain themselves at the cost of our happiness. I mean they could have used the beautiful facility to jolly well organize picnics and food festivals. But no, organizing food festivals would have required them to cook. So the easiest was to organize post event dinner and lunch from the university mess and use the large army of kids for entertainment. That is how, sometimes in fancy dress we walked the stage in disguise of beggars, vegetable vendor, superman, Dracula etc. and sometimes we were racing with a lemon in our spoons, making every possible attempt to reach the finish line at first place to claim a Bournvita quiz book as the first prize and get in another trap where parents expected us to participate in quiz competitions few months later.
And these races had something about them. They were particularly organized on Republic day and Independence day. So while the nation celebrated independence, I never felt independent on an independence day.
If this was not less than all our life we were trained to sleep by first looking at the study room lights of other kids. This meant you can’t be the first one to switch off the lights of your study room and go to sleep. And if you really wanted to delight your parents, you got to be awake unless those two particular kids don’t turn off the lights. They were Mohit and Mehul. Mohit was a year elder to me and Mehul was my age. They both were the biggest enemy for every kid in the campus. Given a chance, the other 20 of us could beat them up for they were the only reason of unhappiness in our life. They scored a 96 percentile and yet their family would come across as the disaster struck family. And when they were not happy even at a 96 percentile, how our parent treated us was obvious.
I cursed Mohit, Mehul all my life but when wisdom prevailed I realised another reason for our sufferings. Designed by Swedish people, our houses no doubt were beautiful and a favourite topic of study for the architecture branch students but they had my dislike because the study rooms faced the road and were visible to everyone. These rooms in fact were the guest rooms but in all the houses parents unanimously had converted them into study rooms.
It got worse during the exams results time. In every single household, parents chanted the names of Mohit and Mehul to humiliate their kids. You know why? Because no matter how much you study, you score less than Mohit and Mehul.
In exam results days it was not Brakha Dutt or Rajdeep Sardesai who gave away the breaking news but it was the household maids who turned into most sought out reporters. They were all uneducated but they all knew the marks of every single kid of campus on their fingertips.
Maids hated Mohit and Mehul because their mother was a miser. She would not give tea, biscuit and other perks to the maids but maids didn’t hesitate to display their love and admiration on Mohit and Mehul at the results time. It was because reporting Mohit and Mehul marks earned them uninterrupted supply of tea and biscuits from our mothers.
Apart from the marks, for an extra biscuit from our mothers, they also reported on what Mohit, Mehul ate, what time they woke up, where did they sit and study, what guide books they referred, what programs they watched on TV, the position of their beds – this was the reporting on Vaastu.
We hated maids. But their reporting sometime helped us too. Especially when due to bad results, sometimes our friends were not allowed to come for the park meetings.
There is a famous Minkoo bhaiya’s story about it. In the evenings at 6:00 PM, post result days, we collected in our campus park to share our sorry state, discuss the brutalities inflicted on us and to hatch a plan to boycott the Mohit, Mehul brothers. Two such meetings went by but Minkoo bhaiya didn’t show up. Some said he was running high fever and some said they saw a red mark on his face. We were worried. But no one dared to go to his home for various reasons – his parents were strict, our results were fresh, they could ask our marks and spoil our mood with acidic comments.
We decided to wait for the maids to break the news. In the meantime the speculation was rife that Minkoo bhaiya’s absence was yet again due to his performance in Maths exams. Despite making all his sincere efforts, year after year he scored miserably in Maths and the irony was that his father was the professor of Mathematics. So obviously, the result days were toughest for him.
And finally, my ears that were on high alert caught the news. I heard the maid tell my mother that that last night when Minkoo bhaiya’s father asked him to be like Mohit and Mehul, a usually quite Minkoo bhaiya could not control it any longer and asked his father ‘Did I ever ask you to be Dhirubhai Ambani and make me a proud son?’ He earned a tight thrashing for it from his father. Living under such circumstances, who could be spared from getting affected? Our parents were also very obviously concerned and felt answerable and responsible to the belief system and lifestyle they had. But we were still fortunate for a reason. Our parents had succumbed to the social pressure however they harboured a secret desire for Sid and me. So while they liked talking to us about getting selected in IIT, which eventually we both wrote when we grew up, they also wanted us to become able to create jobs and not just settle taking one for ourselves. And to make us able they conditioned us to dream big. The outcome of this is what we became – didn’t make it to IIT but turned restless and ridiculously ambitious.
To be continued.... coming soon !
MAKING OF THE COVER PAGE
PREFACE
“Not to give you a job. Not to give you an internship. But I am here to give you a dream.” Sid was talking to the students of a college where he was invited to deliver a guest lecture.
He continued to talk. “When you aspire a career in fashion industry, do not be carried away with the glamour. It is a lot of hard work behind what you see on the ramp. And not everything is ramp walk. Look beyond. You are creative minds. You have the potential to create employment. Instead of finding a job, identify your talent and explore how you can create jobs.”
As Sid progressed breaking several myths of the fashion industry, he reached the most important slide of his presentation. Explaining it, he made an offer, which he was capable to make today after years of rejection, criticism and hard work.
He offered to dream together. “You design a collection on paper and send it to me. My team will evaluate your designs. Those who get selected will be asked to develop a collection. I will give you the retail space, free of any cost. Sell your garments under your name.”
Offering a retail space free of cost and allowing the designers to sell under their own name meant removing the biggest obstacle in the progress of any designer. Sid understood it because these were the two foremost challenges he faced when he was trying to establish himself in the industry.
His ideas were welcomed. There was an energetic uproar and he was surrounded by students who didn’t let him leave after the presentation.
I watched him live his dream. Apart from encouraging entrepreneurship, Sid’s dream was to remain connected with the schools and colleges. He believes fresh minds are the most creative. Experienced people are learned and unlearning takes time. Not everyone is ready to unlearn also.
In the meantime, an old man came to me and said. “Thanks ma’am for coming to our college. No one till date has spoken to our students with this vision. My experience says you both will go a long way. What Sid speaks is much ahead of his age.”
Saying this, the man walked away but yet again he reminded me of the journey Sid undertook six years back in 2008.
2008 was the year when Sid passed out of college and I was asked this question by almost everyone – my friends, Sid’s friends, family friends and acquaintances.
The question was – “What is Sid doing?”
My answer was – “Sid is working to create jobs for others. He will setup a business. He has developed a technology to promote green fashion. He has got a patent, will find his brand...”
But even before I really started to explain, there was a strange restlessness on their faces. Their mind forced them to validate an assumption they had already confirmed to themselves. Assumption was – Sid chose to do business because he didn’t get a job in campus placements. And while they rehearsed a polished question to put across to me, they made me feel like a sister who had built up a jazz answer to cover her brother’s incapability of finding a job.
All in all, I failed to give a desirable answer. But to come to think of it, was there any other way I could have explained the situation? Answer is, no, I could have not explained it better anyway because born in a setup of India we are expected to pass out of college with a job in hand. Then do this job diligently to get married in few years. Take a bank loan to buy one house and one car and extend the family. For those in IT industry, one extra point is to go to onsite. Buy a second, third and may be few more houses with wise intentions to return to live in them one day. Though with changing time, the new generation dares to break this web of expectation but majority still continue to live by the expectations set in for us. So for the obvious reasons, after cutting me short on my explanation, the second question I was asked was “what more is he doing?” It was the polished and rehearsed question. Actually they wanted to say was – ‘brand, patent, green fashion – all this is fine but where is he working? How much he earns? I sincerely tried again to explain that not everyone is alike. Not everyone does job. Just like doing job is difficult and important, it is important that some become entrepreneurs too. If everyone started doing job then who would create opportunities for those who wish and need to do job? The high paying jobs in IT and retail were also created by the business started by the entrepreneurs. The business that has grown big today to employee thousands was once a start-up. So, if not respect the entrepreneurs equally, at least give some respect and acknowledge their effort and courage. Can we even not do this wee bit for the entrepreneurs who have started today small to eventually become big tomorrow?
I explained not to prove a point and justify or protect Sid’s image. I spoke so that maybe I could see a few more who can dare to break the rules and become job creators. Or at least some become supporters to them.
Talking of supporters, Sid was lucky at it. Our parents supported Sid and it was enough for Sid to keep going. He refused to give up and this is how he won. He dares to dream. He dreams and he achieves. Each time he achieves, he sets his target ahead and does not stop. He doesn’t think he has achieved anything great and I wish he continues to think so because this is what keeps him going. We cease to grow the day we think we are big enough.
SYNOPSIS
Do you know what does flying straight means? It means if there is injustice – seek justice, if there is dream – chase it, if there is failure – step over it.
Who flew straight? Well, many does and Sid too has flown straight all his life. He flew straight through the fashion world too. Don’t read it otherwise.
This journey started when Sid went to study fashion technology at India’s no. 1 fashion college in Bangalore in 2004 to complete his college in 2008. Exceptionally intelligent, blessed with creativity, he came across as a humble boy who was in general respectful to all. This son of an IIT professor possessed infectious passion to inspire anyone to dream like him. ‘He would excel in whatever he decides to do’, ‘He is a visionary’, ‘Haven’t met people of his calibre and passion in this campus’ – these were few things which people had to say about him.
Sounds simple, good and obvious that Sid could easily achieve whatever he wanted. But it isn’t that simple, how it sounds. Not if you are Sid. All holds true that was said above but more to it was that Sid exuded fire when he sat across anyone who did wrong. He knew just two things, fight for your right and dare to dream. Fearless, he would look into anyone and state the facts. This definitely does not make life easy for anyone.
Same applied to Sid. He faced it all, which started from college and his life henceforth. He filed a court case on college for the unfairness done to him by a teacher in college. It went to the extent that under the threats of college, completing his studies appeared to be a distant dream. Later he also turned down the job offered at campus to chase his dreams. In the quest to chase his dreams he faced numerous rejections and criticism from fashion fraternity and braved doubting eyes of society. Amidst this he also constantly faced the expectation pressure for he was born and brought up in an IIT campus. To top it all, one day, one of his father’s friend even regretted naming his son on Sid’s name.
Did he make it? Yes, he made it. So don’t read this book to find out if he made it. Instead read it how he made it.
To realize his dreams, Sid entered a pact with his sister in the year 2008. Eventually this pact of a lifetime became instrumental in achieving milestones in Sid’s dream.
In January of 2008, Shreya had returned from Sydney after completing her 2 years of assignment with an IT company she worked with. Sid was studying his fourth year of college in Bangalore. After college, he was to go to overseas to work for an Apparel company where he was campus placed.
All hunky dory – right? But neither of the two was happy about what they were doing. And it was because what they were doing was nowhere close to what they thought for themselves.
It is when, these two siblings, both in their early 20s, entered an interesting pact, which could let them safeguard each other’s dream in face of all failures and challenges that comes their way.
The pact was that Shreya would invest in Sid until Sid is able to realise his dreams. The day Sid is able to realise his dreams, he would invest in Shreya. The word ‘Invest’ may sound vague or small. But it depends what meaning it holds for one. For them it meant investment of time, efforts, patience, determination and the list can go on.
Sid’s dream was to establish his brand of clothes for which Shreya turned into an investor. But little did they know the enormity of Sid’s dream. It merged into Shreya’s dream to setup her own business end-to-end. Creativity from Sid and business idea from Shreya merged. In 2009 the brands August and Aight were born. Four years later in 2013, they opened their first flagship store Pret Castle. And as per the pact, in 2013 Shreya quit her career in IT industry to join Sid in growing Pret Castle and also to pursue her dream of writing. She is ready to share herself with the world by completing the incomplete stories she has been writing for years now.
And today Sid is an accomplished business man and academician. He not only won the high court case with his college but also won the fashion innovation award of his college. At the age of 24 he was holding a patent in his name, which he wrote himself. His work is covered in Discovery website “Tree Hugger”. He was invited by London Museum of art to display his work for 2 years in the museum. He is part of Lakme Fashion week and ethical Paris fashion week. Awarded by Cotton Council International, he has 1000+ international publications. His work is counts among world’s 9 green fashion innovations. And who knows his technology goes to Mars in the coming years. A NASA scientist recently presented his work in COFES a silicon valley conference.
This story of an ordinary boy with extra ordinary determination, who flew straight is based on the real life events. It has the potential to charge you up and infuse courage in you to live your dreams.
Set in the backdrop of college life, this inspiring, dramatic, daring and yet humour filled story has the ‘what next element’ to keep the readers hooked. It also comes across as a powerful and fast paced story that can instantly strike a chord with the youth. It also brings out a beautiful relationship of a brother and sister and how far they went to finally fail the failure.
Back Cover: 'My Fantastic Failures'
Did you face this ever? I bet – You did! And this book is for you.
Parents compare you with other kids. Uncle and aunty think you are good for nothing. Your neighbors declared you non-serious about life. You not considered an intelligent guy/girl of your colony. Teachers think you are a rebel. Your topper cousin think you are dumb. Your geek classmate decline to help you on assignment. All through this – finally, one day you also start thinking that they all are right.
This does not end here. After college, you are asked – Where are you placed? What is the salary? And god forbid if you turn an entrepreneur – they announce you were not placed in a job. Anytime they see you they console you, ‘don’t worry you will find a job’. Few days later, to still find you doing business, they say, ‘don’t worry things will be fine’, even when you are doing better than your friends who are in job.
****************************************************
It is a true story of a boy who was written off by his college (country’s no. 1 fashion college) as a rebel with no good future. Every attempt was made to not let him complete his education. And obviously it didn’t end there. When he was establishing himself, he faced countless rejections and series of criticism in both personal and professional life.
Did he make it? Yes, he made it to Cotton Council design award, Lakme Fashion Week, London Museum of Art, Paris Fashion Week, Discovery ‘Tree Hugger’, FTV, Cosmopolitan, Vogue, international journalists and book writers. He also found his own brands ‘August’ and ‘AIGHT’ for his dream company ‘Pret Castle’. Recently he was presented by a NASA scientist in a Silicon Valley conference.
So, you be in school, college, job or business, all those who have faced rejections and failures, take heart.
****************************************************
He entered a very interesting pact with his sister to achieve his dreams but they credit the success to their mentors Richard Branson, Armani, Paulo Coelho, Harivansh Rai Bachchan, Dhirubhai Ambani and many similar stalwarts.
But how is it possible to have such mentors? Their version:
“Even though we did not have any personal relationship with them, we read books and made them part of our life. Any situation we faced, we found them around talking to us. So this book can also be an answer to ‘How to stay inspired all the time?’
You cannot be part of everyone’s life but the beauty is that they all can be part of your life. No one stops you to get inspired.
MAKING OF THE COVER PAGE
PREFACE
“Not to give you a job. Not to give you an internship. But I am here to give you a dream.” Sid was talking to the students of a college where he was invited to deliver a guest lecture.
He continued to talk. “When you aspire a career in fashion industry, do not be carried away with the glamour. It is a lot of hard work behind what you see on the ramp. And not everything is ramp walk. Look beyond. You are creative minds. You have the potential to create employment. Instead of finding a job, identify your talent and explore how you can create jobs.”
As Sid progressed breaking several myths of the fashion industry, he reached the most important slide of his presentation. Explaining it, he made an offer, which he was capable to make today after years of rejection, criticism and hard work.
He offered to dream together. “You design a collection on paper and send it to me. My team will evaluate your designs. Those who get selected will be asked to develop a collection. I will give you the retail space, free of any cost. Sell your garments under your name.”
Offering a retail space free of cost and allowing the designers to sell under their own name meant removing the biggest obstacle in the progress of any designer. Sid understood it because these were the two foremost challenges he faced when he was trying to establish himself in the industry.
His ideas were welcomed. There was an energetic uproar and he was surrounded by students who didn’t let him leave after the presentation.
I watched him live his dream. Apart from encouraging entrepreneurship, Sid’s dream was to remain connected with the schools and colleges. He believes fresh minds are the most creative. Experienced people are learned and unlearning takes time. Not everyone is ready to unlearn also.
In the meantime, an old man came to me and said. “Thanks ma’am for coming to our college. No one till date has spoken to our students with this vision. My experience says you both will go a long way. What Sid speaks is much ahead of his age.”
Saying this, the man walked away but yet again he reminded me of the journey Sid undertook six years back in 2008.
2008 was the year when Sid passed out of college and I was asked this question by almost everyone – my friends, Sid’s friends, family friends and acquaintances.
The question was – “What is Sid doing?”
My answer was – “Sid is working to create jobs for others. He will setup a business. He has developed a technology to promote green fashion. He has got a patent, will find his brand...”
But even before I really started to explain, there was a strange restlessness on their faces. Their mind forced them to validate an assumption they had already confirmed to themselves. Assumption was – Sid chose to do business because he didn’t get a job in campus placements. And while they rehearsed a polished question to put across to me, they made me feel like a sister who had built up a jazz answer to cover her brother’s incapability of finding a job.
All in all, I failed to give a desirable answer. But to come to think of it, was there any other way I could have explained the situation? Answer is, no, I could have not explained it better anyway because born in a setup of India we are expected to pass out of college with a job in hand. Then do this job diligently to get married in few years. Take a bank loan to buy one house and one car and extend the family. For those in IT industry, one extra point is to go to onsite. Buy a second, third and may be few more houses with wise intentions to return to live in them one day. Though with changing time, the new generation dares to break this web of expectation but majority still continue to live by the expectations set in for us. So for the obvious reasons, after cutting me short on my explanation, the second question I was asked was “what more is he doing?” It was the polished and rehearsed question. Actually they wanted to say was – ‘brand, patent, green fashion – all this is fine but where is he working? How much he earns? I sincerely tried again to explain that not everyone is alike. Not everyone does job. Just like doing job is difficult and important, it is important that some become entrepreneurs too. If everyone started doing job then who would create opportunities for those who wish and need to do job? The high paying jobs in IT and retail were also created by the business started by the entrepreneurs. The business that has grown big today to employee thousands was once a start-up. So, if not respect the entrepreneurs equally, at least give some respect and acknowledge their effort and courage. Can we even not do this wee bit for the entrepreneurs who have started today small to eventually become big tomorrow?
I explained not to prove a point and justify or protect Sid’s image. I spoke so that maybe I could see a few more who can dare to break the rules and become job creators. Or at least some become supporters to them.
Talking of supporters, Sid was lucky at it. Our parents supported Sid and it was enough for Sid to keep going. He refused to give up and this is how he won. He dares to dream. He dreams and he achieves. Each time he achieves, he sets his target ahead and does not stop. He doesn’t think he has achieved anything great and I wish he continues to think so because this is what keeps him going. We cease to grow the day we think we are big enough.
SYNOPSIS
Do you know what does flying straight means? It means if there is injustice – seek justice, if there is dream – chase it, if there is failure – step over it.
Who flew straight? Well, many does and Sid too has flown straight all his life. He flew straight through the fashion world too. Don’t read it otherwise.
This journey started when Sid went to study fashion technology at India’s no. 1 fashion college in Bangalore in 2004 to complete his college in 2008. Exceptionally intelligent, blessed with creativity, he came across as a humble boy who was in general respectful to all. This son of an IIT professor possessed infectious passion to inspire anyone to dream like him. ‘He would excel in whatever he decides to do’, ‘He is a visionary’, ‘Haven’t met people of his calibre and passion in this campus’ – these were few things which people had to say about him.
Sounds simple, good and obvious that Sid could easily achieve whatever he wanted. But it isn’t that simple, how it sounds. Not if you are Sid. All holds true that was said above but more to it was that Sid exuded fire when he sat across anyone who did wrong. He knew just two things, fight for your right and dare to dream. Fearless, he would look into anyone and state the facts. This definitely does not make life easy for anyone.
Same applied to Sid. He faced it all, which started from college and his life henceforth. He filed a court case on college for the unfairness done to him by a teacher in college. It went to the extent that under the threats of college, completing his studies appeared to be a distant dream. Later he also turned down the job offered at campus to chase his dreams. In the quest to chase his dreams he faced numerous rejections and criticism from fashion fraternity and braved doubting eyes of society. Amidst this he also constantly faced the expectation pressure for he was born and brought up in an IIT campus. To top it all, one day, one of his father’s friend even regretted naming his son on Sid’s name.
Did he make it? Yes, he made it. So don’t read this book to find out if he made it. Instead read it how he made it.
To realize his dreams, Sid entered a pact with his sister in the year 2008. Eventually this pact of a lifetime became instrumental in achieving milestones in Sid’s dream.
In January of 2008, Shreya had returned from Sydney after completing her 2 years of assignment with an IT company she worked with. Sid was studying his fourth year of college in Bangalore. After college, he was to go to overseas to work for an Apparel company where he was campus placed.
All hunky dory – right? But neither of the two was happy about what they were doing. And it was because what they were doing was nowhere close to what they thought for themselves.
It is when, these two siblings, both in their early 20s, entered an interesting pact, which could let them safeguard each other’s dream in face of all failures and challenges that comes their way.
The pact was that Shreya would invest in Sid until Sid is able to realise his dreams. The day Sid is able to realise his dreams, he would invest in Shreya. The word ‘Invest’ may sound vague or small. But it depends what meaning it holds for one. For them it meant investment of time, efforts, patience, determination and the list can go on.
Sid’s dream was to establish his brand of clothes for which Shreya turned into an investor. But little did they know the enormity of Sid’s dream. It merged into Shreya’s dream to setup her own business end-to-end. Creativity from Sid and business idea from Shreya merged. In 2009 the brands August and Aight were born. Four years later in 2013, they opened their first flagship store Pret Castle. And as per the pact, in 2013 Shreya quit her career in IT industry to join Sid in growing Pret Castle and also to pursue her dream of writing. She is ready to share herself with the world by completing the incomplete stories she has been writing for years now.
And today Sid is an accomplished business man and academician. He not only won the high court case with his college but also won the fashion innovation award of his college. At the age of 24 he was holding a patent in his name, which he wrote himself. His work is covered in Discovery website “Tree Hugger”. He was invited by London Museum of art to display his work for 2 years in the museum. He is part of Lakme Fashion week and ethical Paris fashion week. Awarded by Cotton Council International, he has 1000+ international publications. His work is counts among world’s 9 green fashion innovations. And who knows his technology goes to Mars in the coming years. A NASA scientist recently presented his work in COFES a silicon valley conference.
This story of an ordinary boy with extra ordinary determination, who flew straight is based on the real life events. It has the potential to charge you up and infuse courage in you to live your dreams.
Set in the backdrop of college life, this inspiring, dramatic, daring and yet humour filled story has the ‘what next element’ to keep the readers hooked. It also comes across as a powerful and fast paced story that can instantly strike a chord with the youth. It also brings out a beautiful relationship of a brother and sister and how far they went to finally fail the failure.
Back Cover: 'My Fantastic Failures'
Did you face this ever? I bet – You did! And this book is for you.
Parents compare you with other kids. Uncle and aunty think you are good for nothing. Your neighbors declared you non-serious about life. You not considered an intelligent guy/girl of your colony. Teachers think you are a rebel. Your topper cousin think you are dumb. Your geek classmate decline to help you on assignment. All through this – finally, one day you also start thinking that they all are right.
This does not end here. After college, you are asked – Where are you placed? What is the salary? And god forbid if you turn an entrepreneur – they announce you were not placed in a job. Anytime they see you they console you, ‘don’t worry you will find a job’. Few days later, to still find you doing business, they say, ‘don’t worry things will be fine’, even when you are doing better than your friends who are in job.
****************************************************
It is a true story of a boy who was written off by his college (country’s no. 1 fashion college) as a rebel with no good future. Every attempt was made to not let him complete his education. And obviously it didn’t end there. When he was establishing himself, he faced countless rejections and series of criticism in both personal and professional life.
Did he make it? Yes, he made it to Cotton Council design award, Lakme Fashion Week, London Museum of Art, Paris Fashion Week, Discovery ‘Tree Hugger’, FTV, Cosmopolitan, Vogue, international journalists and book writers. He also found his own brands ‘August’ and ‘AIGHT’ for his dream company ‘Pret Castle’. Recently he was presented by a NASA scientist in a Silicon Valley conference.
So, you be in school, college, job or business, all those who have faced rejections and failures, take heart.
****************************************************
He entered a very interesting pact with his sister to achieve his dreams but they credit the success to their mentors Richard Branson, Armani, Paulo Coelho, Harivansh Rai Bachchan, Dhirubhai Ambani and many similar stalwarts.
But how is it possible to have such mentors? Their version:
“Even though we did not have any personal relationship with them, we read books and made them part of our life. Any situation we faced, we found them around talking to us. So this book can also be an answer to ‘How to stay inspired all the time?’
You cannot be part of everyone’s life but the beauty is that they all can be part of your life. No one stops you to get inspired.