The Perfect Place on Earth

This Earth, we are told, is 70% water and 30% land. Out of this 30% land, I guess 70% of it is uninhabitable, what with it being a desert or a forest or a mountain range. That makes this Earth only 9% habitable. In this 9% habitat, I guess 70% of the people live in countries with more than half a year in the cold. Which means, in this Earth, only 2% - 3% are "perfect" places to stay.

What a blessing it must be to stay in places where one doesn't have to think about "weather.com" (or equivalent) and then choose the attire - just to grab something from the neighboring store or to throw the garbage out. What a blessing it must be to open the windows everyday all year round to let the fresh air in. However, this 'blessing' is so easily taken for granted that it's true significance comes only when staying in the extreme climate for month after month.

To be fair to the climate, the 'cold' isn't as cold as it was back in 1800s. Thanks to Man (and Global Warming), the average cold temperature during winters are reducing. True that it will melt more and more ice and hence water occupancy on Earth will perhaps increase and a big bane to those near the shore but this is a true boon for those situated in extreme cold climate areas.

If water occupancy increases, then going by the same percentages theory, the "perfect places to stay" percentage will reduce even further. Considering its "perfect", the population density (especially at the rate at which we are going) is more and this automatically leads to several negative points for the non-climatic attributes (such as lack of cleanliness, unemployment, traffic, politics, Governmental apathy, etc) which makes it "Imperfect".

Hence, Man is left to choose between {Weather and Population Density} and compromise on the derivative benefits or drawbacks to make the chosen "place to stay" as perfect to Him as possible. So, in effect, there is no real 100% perfect place on this Earth. And there will never be one either.

:-(

Consumerism

Ok. So it was a Friday and we wanted to ensure the grocery shopping was all done on Friday so that the weekend can be kept free. We did our shopping and came home only to realize that we had missed to get diapers.

So I went out again to get the diaper. It just so happened to have a deal. $18 for 2 and $10 for 1. So I took 2. It also said purchase of $30 of specially marked items would lead to a $10 gift card. Since I had come as far as $18, I shopped even more to reach $30 just to get the gift card!

Finally, I came home after almost an hour although all I needed was just a diaper. Next day morning, we realized there is no banana. So off we went again to the market. There we spent even more time and got even more stuff than just banana.

Realized that if diaper and banana was not missed in the first round itself on Friday, then the 'extra consumerism' would not have ensued...

:-)

A Pokey Day

From the morning today, I felt I was being poked.

Got a call early in the morning regarding a 'High Impact' issue but it turned out few hours later that it was not an issue at all. Even before this got resolved, another issue cropped up. Few more hours of investigation and it too turned out to be a non issue. Meanwhile another guy mailed about something not being right, and while I was trying to break my head on it, someone else thankfully responded that I wasn't the right person to be contacted. Then, another person sent a big mail to all senior management that my install had broken some other project whereas my install had not yet taken place!

I felt like being poked at from all sides. As if some guy Up There wanted sadistic pleasure out my discomfort.

Anyways, in the end, it was a zero-issue and a successful install. Hopefully, the last one for 2011.

The First 12 Months

The memory of cradling my newborn in my arms just after she came out of the womb is still fresh. When the nurse asked me to hold her and I held her, I could sense her looking at me –although biological facts suggest that newborns cannot see or focus on anything. Its been a whirlwind of a time since then. Time goes so fast and time goes so slow. There were times when we all wanted her to turn over in the bed and there were times when we felt she started walking too early and crawled too less.

But each month and each day has been a great and fun filled experience. Not a day passes without her giving us something to laugh about. Her innocence is so fresh. The other night, I was sitting on the sofa watching her run from one end of the wall to the other end where there is a glass partition that separates the living room and the balcony. She does this stretch about 100 times a day – tirelessly and with great gusto. This particular night as she went near the glass partition, she saw the headlights of a car on the driveway that faces our second floor balcony. Sensing the car to be coming near her, she came running to me in fear with outstretched hands! She used to do the same for a long time when the cooker started to whistle but she has grown out of it. She used to laugh whenever I yawned but she has grown out of that too. Such pure innocence!

I wonder what makes her categorize actions as ‘Something to be scared about’, ‘Something to laugh about’, ‘Something to cry about’. If there are raised voices, it makes her cry. Even if you are telling loving words in a raised angry voice. If you laugh looking at some comic scene on the TV, she looks at you and laughs with you. No one teaches her this – yet she is able to recognize The Good and The Bad. Seeing this itself is such a marvel.

Looking at one’s child grow makes parents realize how they were during their own initial days of life – and of course how much trouble and joy that they would have given to their parents! Its never boring and its never tiresome. Perhaps it is because of the immense love that the child entrusts the parents with. The way she comes running to parents calling with just-learnt syllables “amma”, “papa” filled with such unconditional love – a love that is not based on looks which is common amongst college-goers. Whatever be the physical appearance of mother and father, a child will always love her parents.

In 2005, my first year in an alien country, I saw many new things. Now, I am experiencing some of those things – all thanks to my daughter.
-In Ashland temple, I had seen the priest taking infants inside the sanctum sanctorum to the idol for the Lord’s blessings. Few months ago, the priest took my daughter inside the sanctum sanctorum, and I felt blessed.
-I had seen infants sitting on the shopping carts while the parents shopped. Now I play with my daughter, sitting on the shopping cart, zooming through the aisles while my wife shops.
-I had once sat in a colleague’s car after clearing the colleague’s child’s toys from the passenger seat. The other day, a colleague who sat in my car had to clear my daughter’s toys from the passenger seat!

Always wanting to be tickled, wanting to laugh, wanting to play peekaboo, wanting to run in that tiny legs away from mom’s feeding hands (although hungry and want to eat), wanting to be read books, wanting to be told rhymes, wanting to hear songs, wanting to go outdoors, wanting to know and do so many things in life which adults think is monotonous. She adds such freshness, such a desire of ‘I-want-more’. I realized that all human beings are created with such desire, such "wantingness"! So much is talked about in religious themes about "desire" being a bad thing and to be happy with what one has, but how can this be achieved when the basic DNA of human beings itself is created in such fashion to keep desiring more and more!!

Each action of hers necessitates a snap or a video. The 11^th of every month had become a milestone activity for my wife and me to share her development and progress. It was fun to pick amongst thousands of snaps and write captions. It was fun to share the joy and read the comments. Its been a year (and more than a month) already and so much happened – with so much to happen yet in her life.

Here’s wishing a very Happy Birthday to my little one, and best wishes for many, many more fun-filled years to come! Love you, Tontu!

:-)

9

The maximum years I had ever been in any one institution was Good Shepherd School - from LKG to 7th standard: That's 9 years.

On Nov 18th 2011, GSS lost its post.

Candlelight Dinner

For Husband and Wife
A Candlelight Dinner is Romantic.

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

:-)

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...

:)

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.

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...

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'!

:-)

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!

:-)

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...

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.

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.

:-)

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.

:-(

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.

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.

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.

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.