Sunday, November 13, 2011

Candlelight Dinner

For Husband and Wife
A Candlelight Dinner is Romantic.

For Husband, Wife and a Toddler
A Candlelight Dinner is Dangerous!

:-)

Thursday, October 27, 2011

First Snow of 2011!

A sign of good times...
A sign of bad times...

A time for a smile...
A time for a sigh...

First Snow of 2011...
First Snow for Tontu...

:)

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Dumb

Mother: "What do you want?" Voice filled with exasperation, hearing the daughter's continuous wailing.
Daughter: "Ilchik." She pointed a crooked arm at an angle of 100 degrees, pointing sometimes at the main door and sometimes at the shelf. She looked where she was pointing and looked back at the mother hoping mother understood.
Mother thought daughter wanted her (mother) to take her (daughter) outside through the main door. But it was 10 pm.
Mother: "I can't take you out now. It is 10 pm and it is cold outside."
Daughter repeated whatever she had done earlier, and wailed once more laboriously.
Mother: "What do you want?" She then looked at some books on the shelf and asked the daughter, "Do you want me to read you a book?"
Daughter gave a bright smile and started dancing, glad that mom finally understood what she wanted.
Mother: "Oh you wanted me to read you a book?!" She got up to get the book.

For the mother, the baby is literally dumb.
For the baby, the mother is figuratively dumb.
Just goes to show that at some point of time in each of our lives we were all dumb in a way...

6 in 12

In the last 12 months of our stay in US (starting from 2009 May and with a break of 1.5 years), my wife and I have stayed in 6 houses.

Phew.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

9.11.11

It has been 10 years since the fateful day.
Each year I get to hear a new story.
Each year I get to see a video and feel as if it is the first time I am seeing it.
Each story and each video moves me.
Each year I cry.
It was a day when many, many ordinary men became heroes and then became immortal forever.
I salute them all...

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Commonality in Nursery Rhymes

There is one common element between the following four nursery rhymes:

Ring a Ring o' Roses
London Bridge
Humpty Dumpty
Jack and Jill

It all talks about 'Falling Down'!

:-)

Wednesday, September 07, 2011

Name-Value Pair

In my current project - as in most software projects - we have a robust name-value map configuration. For the lay man, this basically means that if the calling program specifies a name to the configuration, a value is returned back to the program for further processing. Like if a door bell button is pressed, the door bell makes a sound.

Seeing my daughter grow (she is now almost 11 months old), I made a startling discovery that our brain is wired with full of such name-value maps. Majority of our brain is like an enormous configuration which keeps storing information and making an "index" (like yellow pages index), which is akin to "name". When this name is invoked, it responds back with a "value" which is carried out by the nervous system.

For example, the first thing which I remember my daughter learned was reacting to the phrase "Smile, please!" - thanks to my wife's mother who taught her this. When someone said "Smile, please!", my daughter smiled back in response. I was initially perplexed as to how she can understand English at such an age (6th month) and dismissed it as an one-off event. But the fact was that she kept repeating it. Which meant there was some science behind it.

The discovery was simple. She really did not know what "Smile, please!" meant. She was just doing what the person who was asking was doing. Note the exclamation everywhere. "Smile, please!" Each time this phrase was uttered, the person who used to utter this was smiling and, this in turn, made the brain register that "Smile, please!" meant smiling. So, there we have it! Utterance of "Smile, please!" is the name and smiling is the value.

Learning continues for the infants whether it is intentionally taught or not as long as it is oft repeated. For example, my wife keeps talking to the baby explaining what she is doing. She talks about bathing, about putting on the diaper, about food that she is feeding, etc. Such oft-repeated conversations (and even actions) register in the child, even though it was not really meant as a learning. This could be because children at this age have a tremendous amount of grasping power. Think of it as a brand new computer which does everything (like booting!) so fast. It is only with age that worries and thoughts occupy the brain more; add natural wear and tear of the body and we get a PC that takes over 5 mins to boot! :-)

So one fine day, when we simply asked our daughter to get diaper (heretofore she was never explicitly shown what a diaper is), she promptly crawled on all fours to the place where we keep diapers. This shocked us! Her brain had mapped the word "diaper" to diaper automatically. Similarly, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" meant  making an action like twinkling stars using fingers, "Tummy" meant patting her tiny stomach, "Shake hand" meant putting out her hand to be shaken, "High-Five" meant , well, High Five, "Nose" meant showing her nose in her own unique way, "Head" meant patting her head, "Teeth" meant baring her mouth to show the 2 teeth (!), "Kiss" meant opening mouth and coming near the face of the asker(!), "Frock" meant showing her dress, "Hi" ("bye" and "tata" too) meant spreading the palms of her hand and shaking, "Water" meant looking at her water bottle and expecting someone to put it in her mouth, "Poojyaya Raghavendraya" ("Vittala, Vittala, Govinda" too) meant clasping palms together and looking at the idols, "Clap, clap, clap" meant bringing the palms together, "Aeroplane" meant seeing something high up in the air, "Gubbacchi" meant seeing birds, "Moon" meant seeing that bright thing in the sky, "Thaala" means bringing her hand down to her thighs imitating Carnatic Classical music pundits(!), "Dance" meant shaking her body, "Amma" meant seeing mother, "Pappa" meant seeing father, "Paavani" meant seeing herself in the mirror, so on and so forth.

I didn't intend this post to show case Paavani's development but it looks like it has just become just that! So be it. I couldn't stop myself! But coming back to the nub of it, it just goes to show how our brain stores all the information as name-value pairs.

Thinking more on these lines, it becomes slightly complicated later on. Take English for example. The word "Lead" will first mean the pencil-end for school-goers. Then, couple of grades later, this will take another meaning of guiding. Couple of grades later, this will take another meaning of a chemical substance [No, pencil lead and chemical lead are two different things]. This kind of complicates the brain. That is perhaps why it is often said that English is a funny language! Now how can indexing work when we cannot define a primary key?! Once indexing is broken, the brain starts slowing down. So we humans have ourselves to blame for our own brain degeneration! Why couldn't we invent new words instead of overloading same words?!

Well, I have said all that I wished to say in this post. I only wish that my Tontu's brain continues to be as sharp and grasping as ever!

:-)

Sunday, September 04, 2011

Cubicle Hang-out


During my first US visit between 2005 and 2006, I did not have an office cubicle of my own. I was sitting in a lab-turned cubicle which hosted from 2 to more than 10 people at one time depending on the projects that came and went. Although I felt 'left-out' of having a cubicle of my own, I grew fond of my lab-like office setting. It was nice to share the place with others - to talk of this and that when work became monotonous, although it sometimes felt congested and difficult to concentrate when you can hear every single syllable of your neighbors despite their efforts to be soft. Apart from this, my place was a 'hangout' for lot of people. Perhaps it was because I was in a lab and not in a cubicle where one has to talk in whispers, people used to stop by and have chit-chat for some time everyday. When one person has stopped by, others used to join and before long, there were a swarm of people gossipping, making plans for the long weekend and yapping in general. I liked this setting although at times it was annoying when I had lot of work to do.

Then in 2007 and 2008, when I was in India, I was amongst a relatively new team of about 20 folks amongst which I was one of the seniors. So most folks used to look up to me for resolutions, for guidance and when they became closer, started stopping by for general passing of time. It was not long before my cubicle became very much akin to my US cubicle. My cubicle became the favorite hang-out place for planning weekend getaways, for parties and for general chit-chat. We spent lot of time talking about getting away from software engineering and taking up other kinds of businesses such as agriculture, mining, schooling and we were all in the same frequency of discussion and hence it was enjoyable taking absolute rot knowing fully well that we were all building castles in the air. But it was fun. I enjoyed the adhoc gatherings.

After being so used to this position of 'center of attention' (literally) for last 4.5 years, it came as a quite a jolt to experience the pre-2005 era when I was all by myself in my own cubicle and immersed completely in work from start of day to end of day. From mid-2009 till date, I have not had the opportunity to experience this bonhomieness. I was in US again for about 7 months in 2009 and my cubicle (again a lab-turned cubicle) was in an isolated location.  When I was back in India in 2010, I got the same cubicle I had in 2007 and 2008 but it was a new team and it did not gel as well as the 2007 team. Now, back in US, my first 'real' cubicle in US (finally) is conveniently located but, again, it is a new team and not many know me well enough nor have time to hang out.

So, just the other day, for the briefest of the periods during the day, when about 4-5 people were over at my cubicle yapping in general, talking of this and that, I had this nostalgia of the good old days between 2005 and 2008. Sigh. How I miss those days...

Monday, August 22, 2011

Missing the Sign-Board

To exit out of the Boston airport’s Terminal E, international passengers ought to cross an inner door, bear slight right to cross an outer door to reach the waiting family members, and from there, the exit is but a few steps. If positioned correctly, waiting family members can see through the outer door up until the inner door, and the steady stream of passengers flowing through the inner and outer doors.

I was so positioned that I had this exact view as detailed above. I was waiting for my mom. This was her third visit to US but it was her first alone. So I was slightly tensed. Plus I was blaming myself for having reached the airport late lest I had missed her and she had gone wandering in search of me.

That being my state of mind, I saw an elderly Indian couple cross the inner door and stand hesitantly wondering what to do next. A few steps to their right was the outer door – the correct one – but if they took left instead of bearing right, there was another exit at the end of the corridor – an infrequently used exit but an exit nevertheless which did not lead to waiting family members.

I started wondering how dumb can one be. I mean there they were standing few feet from a door clearly marked as ‘Exit’, and they were standing there dumbly wondering whether to go right or left. This elderly Indian couple’s decision was crucial because if they took left and took the infrequently used exit, then passengers behind them will blindly follow them. Quite a chump the waiting family members will look if the relatives come up from behind and start thumping on their backs!

Thankfully, few impatient passengers rushed past them, took the right outer door and ran to waiting kith and kin. Seeing this, the couple – now assured of the trodden path – came out too. I was glad that now there was no confusion created.

A few moments later, I saw my mom come out of the exit and after the usual chit-chat of how the security guards in Paris had thrown her home-made masala powders, we made way to the airport exit. Just before we exited, I expressed my desire to visit the rest room. Not to miss the moment of seeing my mater coming through unscathed after a ghastly 24 hour air journey and also to allow her to experience the joy of seeing a waiting son, I had held up the urge to relieve myself however tough it may have been. Now that the goals having been achieved and the rest room being a few feet away, the Nature exerted Herself.

Asking mom to stay put, I entered the nearest rest room entrance. Imagine my surprise when I saw an elderly lady walking in the opposite direction! Such a simple action as a person of the opposite gender walking in the opposite direction while I am entering a supposedly gentleman’s haven fired up a million questions. The brain and nervous system – being as it is – is not used to react heretofore to such a situation in its past 3 decades of operation, and it was at a total loss. Brain said “What’s going on here?!” and Nervous system replied “I am damned if I know!” At a situation like this, when brain and nervous system were looking at one another, the Ego raised its ugly head and started laughing at the lady. It started spreading the message that the lady had inadvertently entered into gentleman’s room and was hence retreating back. But a moment later Reason raised its hand and thumped the Ego’s head and split it into two. I was, in fact, in the lady’s room!

Assuming wrongly that the door nearest to me was Men’s room, I had sauntered in without even seeing the signboard. I murmured to the lady who was seeing me perplexedly that I was sorry I had entered the Lady’s room by mistake and I too retreated along with her. I was not sure if I heard a few folks giggling at me but the thing that was on my mind when I headed towards Men’s room was the incident that had occurred a few minutes ago of me critically thinking of the elderly Indian couple’s hesitation at the outer door:

How dumb can one be.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

B to 6

So, I got on this elevator at the Basement.
There were 2 guys with me.
I pressed the button 6 - the top floor of the building where I stay.
One guy pressed 2 while the other guy pressed 5.
The doors closed and the elevator started.
It stopped at Level 1 and 3 more people got in.
They pressed buttons 3 and 4.
As the elevator made its way towards Level 6, stopping at every level of the floor, one thing dawned to me.
For the first time in my life, and perhaps the only time ever, I traveled in an elevator that stopped at 5 Levels before I could get off.
It is not everyday one sees 5 out of 7 buttons pressed in an elevator and the elevator stopping at the remaining 2 levels too.

:-)

Thursday, August 04, 2011

Minority Report

I am a Kannadiga in Bangalore.
Otherwise.
I am an Indian in United States of America.

Either way, I belong to the minority.

:-(

Thursday, July 21, 2011

No Dodds & No Chikks

Father’s elder brother(s) are called Doddappa(s) in Kannada. Figuratively this means Senior Dad(s).
Father’s younger brother(s) are called Chikkappa(s) in Kannada. Figuratively this means Junior Dad(s).

Mother’s elder sister(s) are called Doddamma(s) in Kannada. Figuratively this means Senior Mom(s).
Mother’s younger sister(s) are called Chikkamma(s) in Kannada. Figuratively this means Junior Mom(s).

My father has 3 sisters.
My mother has 3 brothers.

Which means.

I have neither Senior Dad nor Junior Dad.
I have neither Senior Mom nor Junior Mom.

I have only one Main Dad and one Main Mom.

Oh Man.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Laceless

I got a laceless formal shoes on my wedding in 2008.
I got a laceless strap-on sneakers in 2009.
The 2008 shoes wore out and being now addicted to laceless, got one more in 2010.
Which means, I just realized, for the last 2 years, I have not tied lace!
My! Laceless is such a relief! Why did I not try before!!

PS: This thought occurred when I saw a man tying his lace in the pavement.

Sunday, June 05, 2011

Jondig

I was walking in the busy tunnel at Downtown Crossing in Boston to catch the Red Line subway train to South Station when I noticed a cockroach on the wall. Such a sight is very uncommon and it attracted a lot of attention. I was amused by its presence but kept walking. At about the same time, I saw an American lady walking in the opposite direction and she too noticed the cockroach. Her reaction was noteworthy.

She stopped in her tracks, pointed to the cockroach and made an ugly face. She said something like ‘Ugh’ and finally, after exhausting all her reactions to the innocent animal, continued on.

I could not help remembering my after-dinner 10 pm walks with my pregnant wife in my hometown in Bangalore. My wife who calls cockroaches as Jondgya (due to which I call them as Jondig, just for fun!) has a very alert eye for such pests and jumps at the very sight of it. Many a time, we had to see twice before stepping to ensure we were not squashing any crawling cockroaches on the road. They were that many in number. Some even used to fly around causing that much more thrill in a simple boring activity like walking.

Anyway, as I saw my Red Line train approaching, I could not decide what was more amusing. The cockroach or the lady’s reactions. Or the lady’s reaction if ever she took an after-dinner 10 pm walk in Bangalore.

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Shri Venkateshwara Suprabhatam

Late 1980s. Time: 8 am in the morning. Place: Bangalore, India. Summer holidays. Me –a school-going boy - drowsily sleeping in the makeshift mattress placed in the middle of small living room. I could hear my maternal grandma in the kitchen, busy cooking breakfast for the entire household. She would have been already 3 hours into the day. I could hear my grandpa vigorously moving – he would have called it ‘exercising’ - his oiled body before heading to bath. Somebody else in the household would be busy sweeping the house. I knew that I will be woken up soon and the makeshift mattress had to be folded too so as to complete the sweeping process. Amdist all these, M S Subbulakshmi chanted the celebrated Shri Venkateshwara Suprabhatam in the dilapidated tape recorder.

I liked the setting.
I liked Subbulakshmi’s rendition of the Suprabhatam.

Mid 2011. Time: 8 am in the morning. Place: Boston, USA. Summer. Me - a 31-year-old employee in a prestigious firm - walking on Federal Street in crisp blue blazer and Raymonds trouser, amongst hundred other people in equally if not better attire. Some are running to catch the connecting transport - be it bus or train. Some are tourists – carrying in their hands Boston map and tourist guide, drinking in the history all around them. Positive energy all around, strangers smiling at one another and commenting on what a fine day it is. Tall buildings on either side of the street making a canopy of comfortable shadow. The breeze from the Atlantic Ocean causing a tingling but nice chill. In my ears are the headphones from ipod. M S Subbulakshmi chanting the same celebrated Shri Venkateshwara Suprabhatam.

I liked this setting too.
I still liked Subbulakshmi’s rendition of the Suprabhatam.

Some things change so drastically.
Some things never change.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Bundle of Joy

‘Bundle of Joy’ is the right phrase for a baby. For they bring much joy and make life an endearing prospect. I guess even at the very end of life, when one has almost renounced all worldly pleasures, a baby brings so much joy into the spectrum of life that one does not want to get out of the life and death cycle.

Paavani is now 7 months old and she is very much a bundle of joy. She spreads happiness everywhere she goes. Her very presence made people walk up the stairs to our house in Bangalore when before not many relatives ventured. Decade long neighbors visited us for the first time just to see her. When we used to take her for walks in the road, people used to stop us and talk to her. Strangers in the road started smiling at her. Some even commented on her cute appearance.

It is fascinating how an infant can change the face of the world. Without Paavani, the world was different altogether. Neighbors were just there to be smiled at, strangers remained strangers, relatives remained far and so on and so forth.

Whenever Paavani is with her great grandparents, there is much joy in their lives. As my grandma points out, she and her hubby will be in a big argument and shouting at one another – which she says is a daily affair after one is married to a person for 70 years – but the moment they see Paavani being brought in, their fight will melt away and both start instantaneously enjoying the precious moment with her by cuddling her and cooing with her to which she responds with grateful bursts of joy much to their delight.

When the time came for me to leave to US, I was feeling a little sorry to be taking the joy out of so many lives. When relatives came to know of the departure, their first reaction was to repent the fact that Paavani will not be amongst them. It was as if the news broke their hearts. I felt like giving a toy (Paavani) to a child (relatives) and taking the toy away. It is amazing what infants can do. It can turn a strict septuagenarian into an imitation elephant (on all fours), it can turn a lethargic octogenarian into an enthusiastic superwoman and a nonagenarian into a dancing doll.

Once in US, the human interactions which Paavani had as compared to before have lessened. She can now only connect to her septua-, octo- and nona-genarian friends only through electronic medium – a microcosm of being physically with the person. Alas, nothing much can be done about that but appreciate technology for allowing at least this microcosmic interaction.

However, a walk in the streets of US brings its own set of joy to fellow pedestrians. People here are far more expressive about their compliments and appreciations than in India. Many a time, we have been stopped and told how beautiful or how pretty or how cute she looks. We have to go through the entire routine of telling her name, her age and thanking on her behalf for all her own compliments.

Our neighbor in US was so full of words upon seeing her that she said she wanted to clone her. She mentioned that Paavani (she pronounced it right) is the cutest person she had ever seen and how much of a doll she resembled. Of course, the ear ring and the anklet add more to the conversation and prettiness.

As a parent, it feels nice to hear this. It feels nice to bring smiles into lives. It feels nice to make this world a better place of smiling individuals. To an extent, this even reduces the guilt of taking the joy out of some Bangaloreans:

After all, even folks in US need some joy! :-)

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Duration in USA

Myth: For some reason, perhaps because I have traveled four times, it is a myth amongst many who know me that I have been in USA for about 4-5 years.

Fact: My total stay in US, as of today, is 2 years and 5 months.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

America: Fourth Innings

Its been 8 working days in US for me, and I was involved in 6 installs - with one of them being an emergency production ticket!

I hope this is not a sign of things to come…

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

500

I was more of a novel writer in the mid 1990s. In fact, I have written 2 novels (the Hardy Boys type) on paper in an unintelligible handwriting so typical of the teenage boy. On the advice of my High School English teacher, I started thinking on the lines of short stories and smaller articles suited for newspaper publications.

It was strangely difficult to adapt to the shorter version after writing 150+ page novels. But once I got the hang of it, I started enjoying it (but I lost the novel-writing skill on the way). Couple of them got published too in the national newspaper. But it was hard work to get it published.

To not see the article after multiple follow-ups was disheartening. And those that did get published had been edited the way I did not want them to. All this was very disappointing. It was very typical of an author on the doorsteps of a publisher. So I ended up writing what came to my head in pieces of paper and stopped bothering about asking newspapers to publish.

Blogspot – which was free! – came like a haven for freedom of thought and penmanship. No more begging, no more follow-ups, no more edits – just pure unadulterated content exactly the way I want it.

The first post on this blog was on March 21st 2006. This is the 500th post which has come after 5 years and a month. On the way, seven more blogs were born under the same banner which specialized in a theme of its own. In all, there are now 1118 posts across all blogs.

The idea of seeing my own words on the internet the way I want it gives me joy. I can reminisce on the years gone by, by going through my posts, by re-living my own life and musings. It gives an outlet for my thoughts and adds meaning to my life. It stays on even when I have departed.

It may not be much, but for me, it is an achievement.

The sad state of human affairs

"I wish I was never born in my parent's house."

The above remark from a female friend of mine caused me to think.

Parents undergo a lot to bring up their children. Initially, the children are totally dependent on the parents and bask in their love. As children grow from tiny tots to teenage, a shift in the love quotient occurs and parents are no longer the favoured best. Job gives a heretofore unknown independence. Money and location of work further distances the parents. Marriage brings in a totally different wave of life-issues - for both parents and the new entrant. Its almost like a tsunami :-)

On the other side of the spectrum, while their children get married and have kids of their own, parents are ageing and would like more to be with children for support and grandchildren for basking in forgotten child's love. Pitfalls occur. Spouses die. Children neither near nor want to be near. Grandchildren do not recognise you. Finally its time to bid adieu.

And then the participants change in this life cycle. Children become parents. Grandchildren become children. And the whole gamut of human emotions come into play once more. And so, life goes on and on and on...

Pretty sad state of human affairs, actually.