DK Kapila The Oracle

Coriander – Really Required ?. Dinesh K Kapila My friend Nalin has commented on the price of the herb - Coriander (dhania), is reaching Rs 200/- a kg. The view is why are we focused on only the prices of potatoes and onions, coriander also counts. My sympathies with Nalin and the poor people who live off it but is the coriander really required. I say ban the coriander, for a number of reasons or atleast just ignore this strongly flavoured herb. There are a any number of reasons to ban it, the most important, now a days most cooks, whether at home or restaurants,  do not know how to use it, this herb is for use as a garnish, just sprinkle on a few before serving if you want. Also decide if the dish really requires the touch of coriander, to enhance its presentation or to enhance its flavour. This aspect is seldom considered by the cooks now. Instead they will cook and stew it along with the vegetables and just take away the flavour of the dish. I refrain from ordering ome...

I recently read about a NRI’s ranting against Air India, in fluent Punjabi he reportedly cursed and abused as only a NRI can in India or about India. Over a period of time I have repeatedly come across various articles on Air India’s poor services and disparaging observations about its cabin crew, specially the Air Hostesses. I am no fan either of its cabin crew, specially when they choose to chatter amongst themselves on long haul flights. If you get a rear seat, it can be bothersome if not irritating. However, I do believe that perceptions tailored by its state ownership have also caused prejudices to be aired periodically against the airline. Its part of the fair game to disparage Air India, as though on other airlines the passengers are being treated as royalty. The planes, the service, the timings, the levels of courtesy, the efficiency, it’s the done thing to criticise.   As one young girl who flies frequently told me, the air hostess on the Air India flight who served he...

Transfer and Farewell – From Shimla to Srinagar On Friday (19th July 2013) was given a farewell at Shimla. Now am in transit mode, mentally and physically, waiting for 23rd July to fly to Srinagar. Srinagar, the way things are panning out recently will be a challenge in all senses but that is a separate chapter. Right now I can reminiscence only about the slightly four plus years I passed at Shimla – the capital of a mountainous state at 7000 feet, the years have passed so swiftly . These have been happy engrossing years in which I have felt professionally enriched. It has been a pleasure to work with bankers and state government officers alike in HP, polite and very devoted and committed to their state even if perceptions may vary from us. One can learn how a State can develop on the social indices front by interacting with them. There were adventurous days also at times in these four years. I remember one snowy day paying Rs 500/- to a local guy, to drive my car essentially 5-6...

I parked my car at the of the T junction at my home town. Now totally bereft of close relatives but still my home town, always my home town. My great grandfather had worked there as amongst the first officials of the Punjab Education Service in 1920’s. My grandfather had constructed a house there in 1932, six years after my father was born. A sprawling old style haveli (a mansion with a mix of western and Indian styles of construction). The T junction I had parked on was exactly opposite my home, or what was once my home. There were a flood of emotions in me, the façade had changed, as I walked along one side, other changes came to be noticed. But I was not really noticing, my mind was only remembering what it chose to, laughter, stories of ghosts on chilly foggy nights, food shared with joy and cheer by innumerable relatives on holidays, I only remembered those voices and sounds. For me it was as though I walked amongst them again. I dared not to look in as I feared it would wound m...

                                        (Appeared in The Tribune 02 / 02 / 1996) My father hails from a small town in Punjab, the headquarters of the orchards cum gardens district. Its small size made the town quite an informal place. In this town was our ancestral house – a large old style imposing mansion with huge iron gates, one grand entrance gate being hand carved beautifully, huge walls, innumerable staircases and high ceiling rooms.   Summer holidays were always meant for going home from wherever Dad was posted in the army, exploring the rooms, browsing through the huge library, running around the trees and taking long walks in the cool evenings with the Shivalik ranges clearly visible. But slowly the house was emptying. My grandparents were no more and the huge house now had only a few permanent occupants – my aunt, uncle and cousins. Our visits continued,...

The Pipes of Bakloh (Printed in The Tribune Sept 1, 1999) .                                                                                                         Dinesh K Kapila Most people would not have heard of Bakloh, it’s a small hill station, essentially a cantonment, on the road from Pathankot to Dalhousie. Just off Tatapani, a narrow steeply winding road takes one to Bakloh. Not very high, a quaint little cantonment, with the old British era churches still intact...

Down Madhumati Road Dinesh K. Kapila (The Tribune Feb 23,2002) As you drive towards Shimla from Chandigarh, a road sign on the highway passing through Chandimandir cantonment states “Madhumati Road”. Few would know why this name is on the board except may be that it’s the name of a large river in Bangladesh. For me, passing by the road sign gives a feeling of familiarity and pride, for the road sign signifies a hard-fought victory of the 1971 war by the 62 Mountain Brigade. One battalion of the 7th Brigade also performed the important function of a road block in this battle. Someday I plan to stand my children by the roadside for a photograph, for I want them to remember what their grandpa achieved 30 years ago. The children are yet small but I am sure they understand what I explain to them. For it was Dad who commanded the 62 Mountain Brigade in this battle. The Army observes Victory Day and Infantry Day every year, but for my father such occasions are for remembering fallen...

Do look at him. Old and beaten, By the hounds of cruel fate, Physically, broken, Half blind, hunch backed, Seemingly ashamed of his Half naked body. His spiritual ruin Has now begun, he begs, He cries piteously, Some grains of shame remain, Slowly, silently they Will be blown away. Then he will belong, To that derelict wreck Of society, which we Form by our callousness, He will be called a beggar By us, And a destitute on A numbered government file, In an imposing government office. (Composed by Dinesh K Kapila) =============================================================================== (Sector 17 is the commercial hub of Chandigarh for those who do not know) ================================================================================

Once in Cheerapunji, On a rocky outcrop, A rainy misty day, As I stood, The monks did sing, Their voices mellow and deep, The hymns did sound heavenly, The words echoed, resounded, Divine and ethereal, A soul stirring chant. The world hidden, In a curtain of mist, It was me Me alone and the haunting Soul stirring vedic hymns, Transfixed, awestruck, The moments mine and mine alone, Locked away in the inner Recesses of my mind, Forever. (Composition Dinesh K Kapila)

Loneliness, Crying out soundlessly, Into the desolateness around. Intermingling with the shadows, Floating across on the rays Of the setting sun, Merging in the night, Dark thoughts, dark feelings, A whirlpool of emotional Ups and downs, churning, Endlessly, relentlessly. A feeling of acute separation, From near and dear, Standing alone, starkly, silently, As does the tree, Shorn of leaves, The bare branches thrust Into the vast sky. Thoughts here, thoughts there, Thrust into the murky Depths of the mind, No meaning, no answers, Just a wearied mind, An aching body, Restless sleep. (composed by Dinesh K Kapila) ===========================================================================

The Crow in my watertank.(written in 1999, now creating a soft copy) A classic one liner at a restaurant is “waiter, there is a fly in my soup”. Atleast in a restaurant only the soup bowl has to be changed with profuse apologies of the management. But in my case, what do you do, when you find a dead crow in your water tank, it’s a totally different scenario. The tank on the roof, made of cement on a platform, reaching the cemented covers a bit of a bother, then the roof accessible by a ladder, me always been around the outer limits of weight, well the scenario would be unfolding itself !. God knows when the damn crow went for a sip of water, perched on the edge of the tank and decided drowning was a better option. It chose to drown by wriggling through the narrowest of gaps left by me, so as to check the water levels in the dry summer months. Well, as the story goes, one Friday everybody stated that the water was stinking, I chose to ignore it. After all it was for me and our jeev...

This is certainly not a piece for Valentine’s Day but then here goes. I was on the Shatabdi Express from Chandigarh to New Delhi on Monday morning. An ungodly (for me atleast) time of 0653 hours we departed from Chandigarh. As is usual the newspapers were distributed, tea served and the passengers gradually settled down. Right behind me were a young man and woman (gentleman and lady if you will). Both seemed to be in their late twenties. Gradually they got talking – as did most youngsters on the train. Incidentally, with jobs lacking in Chandigarh, most youngsters with qualifications head to New Delhi / Noida / Gurgaon for jobs now a days, the train indicated the truism. Now the young man and woman. The woman was fluent in English, the guy less so, they carried on talking about bosses, the train, the cost of commuting, the quality of breakfast etc. They could have been friends for ages, the way they just carried on all the way to Kurukshetra. Parents and a property dispute were ...

Business Communication In Organisations – Concepts, Barriers, Challenges and Relevance to the Governmental Sector. By Dinesh K Kapila, Asst Gen Mgr, NABARD Regional Office, Shimla (dineshkapila2002@yahoo.co.in, dineshkapila2009@gmail.com, 9805056733, 0177-2629792, 0172-2669757. c/o NABARD, Block 32, Kasumpati, Shimla 9). Abstract – The importance of communication has been defined / delineated in the captioned article. It examines and encompasses its historical context and the broad convergence of views about it, specially in its applicability to corporate bodies / institutions and to governmental institutions in particular. The best practices in communication has been identified and discussed before suggesting methods / modes of better communication systems in a governmental context. The linkage of motivation and beter communication has been highlighted also in the quest for higher productivity, higher production and better customer service. The issues typical to governmental i...