Benazir Bhutto's death was very much like Mrs Gandhi's... no one dreamt that it would happen [except perhaps those who plotted them]. So most of us were stunned into silence rather than agitated with shock.
It was in 2001 [most probably] that I met her at the Taj Mahal Hotel in New Delhi, when she had come visiting. The wonderful opportunity was ceated for me by Mr Tarun Das, who more than anyone else of his age knows how technolgy can be used to reach out to people. He and my then boss Mr Ajay Khanna insisted that I accompany them to the august meeting and show Madam the wondeful website that we had created [among many other initiatives] to take care of her "track II" diplomacy.
The meeting was at the Taj Chambers in a small meeting room. Soon after entering the room, I powered up my laptop and got ready with the site which we were to show her. The machine was set on the "head" side of the table where Madam was supposed to sit.
I think it was around 12 noon when she walked in. She at that time for some strange reason had taken to wearing brightly coloured jackets over her shalwar kameez... that morning she was wearing a bottle green silk jacket which I thought was hideous...
She walked into the room greeted Mr Das and us and went straight to the laptop with Mr Das explaining what the website was all about.... By the time Mr Das has finished, she has started navigating the site and called me over to her side to explain what was what. I was quite amazed by her skills with surfing, but more than that amazment, standing next to her and bending down to speak to her, I was completely mermerised by her looks, her complexion and the way she spoke. Of course, the whiff of her expensive perfume added to the effect. I am sure, the other two gents who had met her on many occasions before, were similarly enhanted. She was fourteen years older than me.... Never mind.
On hearing the news of her death, only one thought stuck me. She came from the most dysfunctional political family in the sub-continent where no two members of the family spoke to each other. She could have decided to marry a man who really loved her, migrated permanently to London and spent the rest of her raising her lovely kids... But none of these happened to her....
She was a destiny's child and went where her destiny took her. May her soul rest in peace.
It was in 2001 [most probably] that I met her at the Taj Mahal Hotel in New Delhi, when she had come visiting. The wonderful opportunity was ceated for me by Mr Tarun Das, who more than anyone else of his age knows how technolgy can be used to reach out to people. He and my then boss Mr Ajay Khanna insisted that I accompany them to the august meeting and show Madam the wondeful website that we had created [among many other initiatives] to take care of her "track II" diplomacy.
The meeting was at the Taj Chambers in a small meeting room. Soon after entering the room, I powered up my laptop and got ready with the site which we were to show her. The machine was set on the "head" side of the table where Madam was supposed to sit.
I think it was around 12 noon when she walked in. She at that time for some strange reason had taken to wearing brightly coloured jackets over her shalwar kameez... that morning she was wearing a bottle green silk jacket which I thought was hideous...
She walked into the room greeted Mr Das and us and went straight to the laptop with Mr Das explaining what the website was all about.... By the time Mr Das has finished, she has started navigating the site and called me over to her side to explain what was what. I was quite amazed by her skills with surfing, but more than that amazment, standing next to her and bending down to speak to her, I was completely mermerised by her looks, her complexion and the way she spoke. Of course, the whiff of her expensive perfume added to the effect. I am sure, the other two gents who had met her on many occasions before, were similarly enhanted. She was fourteen years older than me.... Never mind.
On hearing the news of her death, only one thought stuck me. She came from the most dysfunctional political family in the sub-continent where no two members of the family spoke to each other. She could have decided to marry a man who really loved her, migrated permanently to London and spent the rest of her raising her lovely kids... But none of these happened to her....
She was a destiny's child and went where her destiny took her. May her soul rest in peace.
2 comments:
Uncanny! Subho, I wrote about Benzair Bhutto on my blog today as well, though in a different context.
Thanks for visiting my blog.... I guess many people would be writing about her....
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