Wishing on a Birthday

Since a long time now, it gives me immense pleasure to wish a person on his or her birthday. There was a time when I used to take great pains in maintaining important contacts’ birthdays. In high school, I started maintaining my friends’ birthdays in a self-created, calendar-sorted ledger. I kept updating this ledger for many years. I still have this ledger and it has about 500 odd entries although I do not update it any more.

It used to be fun checking this ledger for the next few days and reminding myself to wish the birthday folks. Since I kept doing this fairly regularly for a long time, some of the birthdays got etched into my memory, and I no longer needed a ledger to remind me whose birthday fell on which day. I could automatically wake up on any given day, check the date on the calendar and remember the person who had the birthday on that day. It was as easy as getting up on 6^th April and knowing that it was my mom's birthday.

Over the period of my life, when I moved out of high school to PU college to Engineering college to my first company and then to the second company, and then within that company started hopping from one project to the other, this list of folks whom I knew and whom I liked and whom I liked to maintain contact grew and grew. Yet I tried my best to keep abreast on the growing list of birthdays and wish people as best as I could.

In some cases, the only day I ever spoke to someone – like past friends such as high school pals, etc. - was only on their birthday, and this once-in-a-year remembrance, that too on their special day, made them extremely happy and surprised and truly gave them joy. And on other cases, especially the older relatives, people realized it was their birthday only when I called them up and wished! And in other cases, there were instances when the person knew it was his or her birthday but their near and dear ones – like their own children or those who stayed with them under the same roof - never wished them. So hearing wishes from a distant person gave them this inner warmth – and I loved giving this joy, loved making the person “wanted” on the special day.

Some people were so overwhelmed - some “are”, even now – that they used to ask me how I remembered, what technology I used to keep myself “informed”, etc. All I had then was a simple notebook where I had stored their birthdays. But since the notebook was becoming difficult to refer to every other day, I started to use the basic technology – such as using a Microsoft outlook reminder, mainly because I knew I would always open this one software almost every single day. I had the birthdays linked to my home outlook client which was configured to my personal email id.

Thanks to gmail, which gladly took an imported version of any outlook stored reminders onto its server, and correspondingly to me starting to own an android version of a smart phone, the reminders now pop up automatically on my cell phone.

Technology is great.

So, now to wish the person, the only way for me is to login to Facebook since I don’t have the email id or the phone number. It is so easy to accept friends’ invitation on Facebook thereby the person is just a click away, anyway. So I login to Facebook and go to that person’s profile. I see hundreds of birthday wishes. My wish, I know, no longer gives joy or that ‘personal touch’ it once used to. The birthday gal or guy will wait until the day is over and give a one-liner comment informing how special the day was with the countless wishes. I miss that joy I used to get when I used to wish and I used to be the only person to wish or one of the rare few to remember the special day. I miss the ‘personal touch’. I feel sad for my ‘birthday wishes’ to suddenly become so ‘tiny’ amongst hundreds of other well-worded wishes. I suddenly feel like how a retired person feels when he is sacked because a machine can do his job better.

Alas. Technology is great but it lacks the human touch.

There was a time earlier when I used to ask for contact's Birthday after I had become reasonably close to pop that question. Now, I don't bother. Not because I can obtain this information after the 'Friend request' is accepted in Facebook, but because - when I now get a reminder on the cell phone about someone’s birthday, I just hit the ‘Dismiss’ button and don't even bother wishing. 

So, for those of you who were used to it - after a decade of my wishes - if you don’t see any more from me, don't think I lost the steam - now you know the reason why.

Kapathaka and Thadigudi-Thadigudi

Kapathaka!

This is now her new byword for anything and everything. Did you finish your milk? Kapathaka. We laugh. She laughs. Later in the day - Do you want anything to eat. Kapathaka. We laugh. She laughs. She knows we will laugh, and hence she makes up these funny sounding words just so that we will laugh. She makes funny faces since she knows it makes us burst out laughing. She does something that she ought not to, and we scold her and she mimics the same back to us in her own funny way, which breaks down our singularly strict facial expression despite our great strength in holding the laughter back – and we all end up laughing on the floor. 

And so it goes on every day. There was a time once when I did not know the difference between baby, infant, toddler (and pre-schooler – this one I hadn’t even heard before!) So when someone once said that toddlers were fun to hear speak, it didn’t make much sense to me – mainly because my daughter was an infant then and it was fun to hear her speak (gibberish!) then too! Gradually I came to know the difference and I acknowledge this fact that toddlerhood is so much fun too. While being a baby gave its own share of joy, toddlerhood adds a flavor of its own - especially because at this age, kids tend to speak the way we adults do, and hence this “imitated adulthood” coming from a tiny tot – complete with mocked up facial expression and body-stance – causes an unmatched hilarity. 

Added to this, now that toddlers are exposed to the world and are able to grasp things around them, they can recognize patterns and come to conclusions without us telling them. Once, my little one aged 2 then, was able to see the McDonalds signpost far away while on a car-ride and said “Hi McD! Wait for me! I am coming!” And it didn’t end there, she then looked at Mommy and said “McD said ‘Ok, I will wait for you.’ Come, let’s go to McD.” [This reminds me of McD’s famous Baby Swing Ad] And then there was this one instance when I was wearing a suit to office and she looked at me and said ‘Papa, you look like Obama!’ So funny! 

Everyday has at least one such unique thought that is so genuinely funny. And I realized that this is just not my daughter. Every child at this stage of life is pretty much the same and exhibiting these innocent funny one-liners. I guess even we were all the same too at that age, except that now we are the audience! These constant humorous one-liners are so hard to track and record that we forget so much so soon. When I read her first birthday post, I realized I had forgotten so much of our life with her (like how she used to laugh when I yawned, etc.) And alas, this Kapathaka might also soon become a thing of the past. 

And if the sentences are not funny, the situation is. Like when I used to come home from office during lunch hour in the previous city, she used to see me at the parking lot from the balcony and shout out the news of the day at the top of her voice “Papa, I finished poop!!” ROFL!! 

Well, having kids is not always all fun and no fret. On the subject of poop, when we were trying to potty-train her and she was all nerve-racky about this drastic change in her lifestyle – from pooping in the diaper to pooping on the potty – she used to cry a lot and her voice had so much begging and desperation of not wanting to poop that we used to feel helpless. But then when there came a time when she no longer could control, she used to run – wanting to run away from parents, to run away from potty, to run wherever she could as long as she didn’t poop. But this never helped her, and I remember thinking ‘What do we do now – this baby we gave birth to has turned into a running shit-machine!!’ Thankfully this period didn’t last long, and she got used to the potty. 

The saddest point in our lives so far with respect to Tontu was when the surgeon took her into the OR to suture her fingers due to the unfortunate accident that she had had in February 2013. She was drugged so much that she was delirious and in her brimful state of falling into an anesthetic oblivion, she was saying “I love you papa, I love you mama” and waved bye to me and my wife while the surgeon carried her away in arms. No crying, no shouting. That scene was a knockout and punched us both hard in the heart and soul. It was a never-to-forget and hopefully never-again experience. 

Now, she is at that point in her life, where she knows what is hers and what is not. This is my ball. This is my pillow. When she was eating ice-cream, we told her "You have to share, right?" and got a spoonful from her. The next day when we were eating chips, she told us "You have to share, right?" and gave it right back to us! 

The “giving-it-back” in fact happened first when she was about 7 months old. She, being an infant, was playing with something that her mother took away. In a spurt of uncontrolled anger, she shouted at her mother, right on the face. This was the first time ever she had done that, and immediately my wife got tears in her eyes. All those months of love and suddenly this anger in return! It was a strange experience. 

Over the period of years, we got used to this attitude and it is supposedly normal behavior of all children – part of growing up. And yet, it hurts in the corner of the heart when she says "Papa, you go away. Only Mama should make me sleep". There I am lugging myself out of the room dejected, when my wife points out a baby center website link which shows the normal tendency at this age to favor one parent over the other for certain day-to-day actions. 

While papa is not needed to make her sleep, papa is needed to tell stories. It is to papa that every evening now, she comes running with outstretched hands on the station platform when papa returns home from office – much to the delight of onlookers – as if papa was coming home from an international flight after a month-long outing! And then the short walk home from the station constantly chattering "Thadigudi-Thadigudi" (another pair of strange sounds invented by Tontu) holding papa hands. This combination of “Kapathaka and Thadigudi-Thadigudi” gives as much joy to me as did the similar-sounding tales of “Chamataka and Doob-Doob” which I used to read over 2 decades ago! 

And for providing this constant fun and laughter for the last 1000+ days, here is another post dedicated to my dear Tontu as a ‘Birthday present’, wishing a very happy birthday and loads of fun and less of ‘Time-out’s! Today, October 11th, 2013 is a double whammy of a day for her – it is not only her 3rd year birthday but also the only day in her life when she is as old as the exact difference of her parents’ ages!! 

Thadigudi-Thadigudi!!

Bench

Ok, now that I just had my last day in office in June, what next?

It was always a long time.... hmm, 'desire' - looking at my friends hither and thither - to stay at home for some time, without any office to go to, but yet get paid the same monthly salary as if I was going to office. If someone had told me during my initial professional days a decade ago that things like this happen, I would never have believed. Weird as it may sound, strange things like this happens and it is called being on 'Bench'. Well, I guess if bad things like cancer can strike people randomly, why not good fortune, eh?! And although I knew I was always very far from such good fortune, I always 'desired' to enjoy some quality family time while not compromising either on my cash inflow nor my leave balance. 

Be careful of what you wish, for it might just come true! Lo and behold, my desire came true in July 2013. At the time of spending my last days in office last month, I was filled with both a thrill of experiencing getting up on Monday morning with no office to go to and yet not on vacation nor unemployed, as well as an anxiety of 'what if I get allocated too soon to my future project'. Thankfully, status quo continued and I was gifted July 2013 as a paid vacation!

In my MTE post, I had mentioned that during our prime age, there is money and energy but no time due to office work. But now, I realized to my amazement, being on bench pulverized the MTE concept!! I had salary, I had lots and lots of time and energy for my age! Boom! We made instant plans of travel and explored places near to us until we felt we had done enough!

Now, being on bench for a long time is not too safe. You might just slip into unemployment. Thankfully to me, I started getting interview calls and just as I was wondering where next weather-wise, the Golden Gate is beckoning me. What with this new place being (almost) considered as Silicon Valley - birth of semiconductor chips, hence computer, hence software - kinda feeling that I am now headed to the roots of my profession...

The Place Where It All Began!!

'Last Day In Office'

In 10+ years of my professional life, I haven't had too many experiences with writing "Farewell" emails. Primarily because, if I got into a project, I stayed in that project for a really long time - so long that I had to beg my supervisors to release me. 

So, the first 'farewell email opportunity' that I got was when I (asked and) got released from my first project after 2+ years. But since hardly any of my previous team mates were present at that point of time, I gave it a miss. 

My second 'farewell email opportunity' came when I finished up my first onsite (US) assignment and was heading back home, after a short duration of 7 months. But my interactions during this short stint was limited to a handful of people and hence the farewell went only to that group but each of them said I will be back to US soon, so it didn't really feel like a "farewell" farewell, since I would continue to interact with the same set of people back from offshore.

Sure enough, I was back in US soon, and working with the same team. A year later, it was a deja vu, since I was heading back to India. In that period, I had interacted with quite a few people and when they heard that I was heading back, some of them really missed me. But again, like before, I would be 'still around' and interacting with same team members, and hence not really a farewell. Finally, when this project ended after 5 years, there was only one other guy in the team and it didn't seem worthwhile to write a farewell email. 

So, the 'real-deal's were only twice. Once (last year) when I quit my company after 9+ years and next (last month) when my 1.25 year old assignment ended in my new (current) company. Although the 1.25 year stint seemed small, the project which I was leading had made me interact with over 200 people in the short span since it was a heavy-impact high-risk initiative. So, in these two 'Goodbye' emails, I included all those whom I had come across in my professional life. Both just had a simple subject line of 'Bye' (although I was tempted a lot to say 'So long and thanks for all the fish'!) and a simple statement that my time had come to an end, with details of my coordinates for those who wished to keep in touch.

Responses to the farewell email ranged from formal nonchalant 'Congrats for new role' to real disappointment in seeing me go. It is these 'disappointment-reactions' that touched me most. Their disappointment almost made me disappointed. Some of the reactions, especially the ones where I had to break the news in person was heartwarming. It was as if the solid ground on which they were standing had shook. 

I am not boasting to state that I was like the 90s Tendulkar in the team where the whole country depended on him to deliver, but people's disappointment showed me how much I was valued and how much my work was appreciated. Some of their sentences, I could sense was coming from the very bottom of their heart. They did not polish it to make it better, they let their souls speak, sometimes even grammatically incorrect and some did not even express electronically as a response to my email - just a mere sad shake of their head when they moved past my cubicle was sufficient to let me know how they were feeling about my departure. 

It is then I realized how much I was wanted! I felt happy to have touched so many people's lives, and to have made them happy during my professional interactions with them. In my work and in my simple act of everyday duty, I had made my fellow team members happy. I would be cherished and remembered (even if not for a long time, even if not like The Little Master) by those with whom I had interacted. 

It felt good now to have left my previous company. For if I had continued to stay there, folks here would never have known me. It felt good to be leaving this place now too, for it gives me an opportunity to make more people happy as a result of my future professional interactions. 

I am sure this is the same with everyone. As I heard someone say the other day, everyone goes to office to do a good job. It is just ironic that you don't feel wanted or important until you are moving on. One does not get appreciation every day, and it is somehow reserved for 'The Last Day In Office'! That goes for me too: In that project where I stayed for 5 years, I expressed my deepest appreciations only as a response to the many farewell emails I received during my tenure.

In the same line of thought, as long as you don't keep moving on, you will not feel this importance nor worthiness! It is very much akin to what I had mentioned as a last thought in the previous year's post: it makes you wonder why you have not done this often!!

:-)

Veg and Non-Veg

There was a farewell party yesterday noon at office for a colleague of mine which I couldn’t attend due to a conflicting meeting. After the meeting was over, I was walking along the empty office corridors when I saw another colleague of mine who had also skipped the party (due to whatever personal reasons). She is also Asian but not Indian. She commented how good the party would have been considering that it was an Indian buffet, with such variety of food and how she loved Indian food and spices.

We went on talking about Indian food for about 20 minutes and during the course of the conversation, she came to know that I was a vegetarian. She asked me if I had become one, and I said I was always a vegetarian and brought up by a vegetarian family. I even went on to say that most restaurants and fast-food joints in my native city just served vegetarian food, and she - being a non-vegetarian - was shocked that such a vast majority of vegetarian people lived! (I remember a similar conversation my parents had with a bunch of Asian [non-Indian] teenage girls that they had met during a 3-day bus tour to Washington DC in 2006). My colleague being a knowledgeable person on all kinds of cuisine, spoke to me in depth on how she had cooked and tried eating many cuisine for a certain period of time, such as 3 months, to fully soak in their values.

In her opinion, being vegetarian makes you weak especially if you are used to eating non-veg. Since she runs for 2 hr stretches as part of her work out (she is a mother of two, by the way!), she can make out the difference when she is having non-veg and veg diet. She said she felt like she ran out of gas whenever she used to run for long stretches while being on the latter. However, she felt pure since she was not having meat, and this was more of a mental thing - for lack of better explanation. She even tried convincing her friend how pure she felt after eating veg for 3 months!

And since she reads so much about food, she said that eating meat might cause many diseases whereas eating veg will keep you healthy in the long run. As a parting statement, she joked that I will live 200 years since a vegetarians’ skin cells live longer and healthier life as compared to non-vegs; and I parted joking that my skin might live up to 200 years but my heart will run out of gas sooner, due to the vast variety of Indian sweets and oil-soaked snacks that I liked eating!

***

Today, I was chatting with a close chum of mine, whom I have known since decades and I always thought he was a vegetarian because he comes from a Brahmin family, the sect which preaches and follows vegetarianism. But to my shock he said he is secretly having non-veg food since a decade, forced into it by his peers, and fallen for the taste. For some reason, this shook my foundations and I could not chat further.

I couldn’t place what made me upset. Was it him defecting to the other camp? Was it the thought of how this news would affect his parents who had brought him up all these years as a Brahmin, and with whom he still lived. Was it because he was a non-veg since a decade and I never knew it so long? I came up with a list of questions for myself but never could figure out what made me upset.

It is not as if I am an anti-non-veg campaigner going around everywhere preaching about ill-effects and immorality of eating animals. It cannot be because what he was doing was bad, because eating meat is neither considered bad nor illegal. It is not like smoking weed or being an alcohol addict, because if it was, then I could have advised him against. I have many good friends of mine who eat non-veg, and enjoy it thoroughly too, and I have no qualms with them, nor do I advise them to be vegetarians.

In this particular case, for some reason (maybe because he was a close chum), I did feel an urgent sense of asking him not to continue his non-veg lifestyle though. But I didn’t even know whether to advise him or not. The only thing I could have advised, even if I wanted to, was not to eat meat because he was a Brahmin. I cannot ask him to think about all those animals which would be killed – because there is an argument that even plants have lives and vegetarians are killing lives, in a way, too. But to ask him to stop eating something just because of his religion didn’t hold enough steam, for I am not too much of a religious follower either. So I would have invited comments like ‘How much of a Brahmin are you, anyways?!’ So I just stayed put, didn’t comment and logged out of the chat window graciously, although my mind was in a complete state of turmoil.

The only way I could have let off steam from my fuming mind was by writing, and this blog post is the by-product.

Well, I guess, the best exit line would be: To Each His Own.

Amen.

The Two Years

This day two years ago, April 29th 2011, we landed in Washington DC airport. It was a big sigh of relief when we set foot on the US soil. When we went back from Boston in Dec 2009 to India, it was with a hope that we will return soon. But one thing led to the other, and we ended up staying for almost 1.5 years.

During this 1.5 years, a plan was formed. A vague plan but with a definite outline. It will be an understatement to say that this plan was accomplished for it was not just completed but it was completed with a flavor that even I did not expect. One of the pivotal moves was to shift to California, a place that I had dreamed of staying once in my life, after having heard so much about it.

Surprising part of it is that me being the kind of person to move with the flow of Life, things could not have happened if Life itself had not offered the stepping stones which led to the remarkable turn of events. There was a reason why I had to come to US. There was a reason why I had to quit the company that sent me to US. There was a reason why I had to move to California. There seemed to be a reason for every thing that occurred, and yet it was all in-line with the plan. I just had to grab it and go with it.

Part of the plan was to stay for a minimum of 2 years. I always remember those who wished me to stay for this duration, for they blessed like angels. And today, those 2 years comes to an end. Another check mark. There were highs and lows, but it had to be done. Again, for many reasons.

As if on a cue, the three-week India trip planned in the coming weekend is almost like a celebration for accomplishing what I had set out to do. It just so happened that the India trip got planned exactly after finishing the 2 year continuous stint in the US. It is akin to a pat on my back, although it just happened so, like the flow of Life. The plan, the vague outline - it is all like jigsaw puzzles falling automatically into place, after much deliberation.

There is much to decide about the next two years. Perhaps the India trip will give me time to think this through. For now, just livuring India.

The Weather Journey

Ok, one more blog on weather, after a long time!

I am from Bangalore, India. Weather-wise it stays pretty constant: whether it is summer or winter or whatever month the Year churns up. So other than feeling a little sweaty in summer and little chilly in winter, ‘weather’ is a no-brainer. When the ‘weather’ section comes up in the news channel, it was time to change the channel!

I (bachelor) came to Marlborough, USA in March 2005. [Gosh, that was 8 years ago?!!] A huge communication mix-up and lack of patience on my part led me to make my own transportation from airport to home. As I drove in the cab, I saw white snow everywhere. It was a strange sight.

Gradually, I understood ‘weather’ in US. Which regions were colder, how colder, which regions were hot and how hot – and it wasn’t just about temperature. There were hurricanes, snowstorms, tornadoes and so much more that it just cannot be a ‘last section in the news channel’! It perfectly made sense to have a channel and website dedicated to US weather! A news channel that indicated how the weather would be for the following week gave an insight to the apparel that needed to be chosen. Trip plans were dependent on weather. Going for a stroll outside necessitated a temperature-check. Suddenly the whole life revolved around weather!

Cold was not just a thing to be annoyed about. There were many positives too. Such as snow. Fresh snow strewn over electric wires, over trees, over houses made the world look surreal. It made the world look pretty; it gave the eyes something different to see although it was the same neighborhood. Then there were the climate changes. October suddenly become a month to travel around seeing trees change colors. Whoever heard of trees changing colors?!! At least not me until the age 23!

These are not things which one gets to experience in Bangalore, nor does one even hear about. Here ‘weather’ was a real and “alive” thing, not just a theory mugged up to pass exams! Here there was a true meaning and definition to ‘seasons’ – it changed, and with it the wardrobe changed, stocks in retail stores changed, trees changed. Gosh, so many things changed! And it keeps changing quarterly in a year! It is suddenly fun, like being on a carousel where the view of things kept changing and repeating with a pre-defined frequency!

I was on and off US from 2007 through 2011 but whenever I was in US, I was within 100 miles of Marlborough. And then, we (family now) moved from the East Coast to West Coast in 2012. That celebrated state called ‘California’. I guess in some ways it was like a dream come true. I had heard so much about the state, had even visited SFO and LA during couple of long weekends. I guess one of the reasons I was so keen on moving to California was due to its weather too. Especially SoCal weather. It almost likened the weather in Bangalore. It removed the annoyance of wearing multiple layers of clothing from head to toe just to throw the trash out. Throwing the trash would take less than a minute, wearing the dress to venture out would take several minutes – including the time to dress up the little toddler who sees an opportunity to play with the snow outside and wants to accompany.

But, although the weather is great here, constantly in 60s and 70s, we almost miss snow and the changes that each of the seasons bring. Good thing though is that within a short 2-3 hour drive, we could experience pretty much all the things that each season boasts - especially due to the high mountains all around. There is snow, there are fall colors and there is even a desert nearby.

Here again there is no need to be so much dependent on weather. Most days, you will be fine even if you venture out in your shorts and sandals. Then it made me and my wife wonder. Folks from India who start off their US life in California will not find much of a difference in terms of weather. And then when they move out of California to the colder regions of US, they might miss California because of all that California offers. It offers cold when you want it & heat when you want it within a few hours’ drive, and ambient temperature at home town. In the other regions, if it is cold, it is cold all around unless you fly out far and if it is hot, it is hot all around unless you fly out far. There is not much of a choice.

Those like us, on the other hand, who happened to experience the East Coast before moving to California, can appreciate the ‘weather’ value of this state. It is like a pinnacle, an ultimatum that is attained after traversing through the harsh wilderness.

Of course, with comfort of the climate comes the discomfiture of the cost of living. And tax! And fuel prices!! It might or might not be related to weather, but it sure is jaw-dropping! I guess, in US it finally boils down to weather versus cost of living because both do not go hand-in-hand.

Anyways, this has been our weather journey so far. It might be the pinnacle but it might not end up being the destination. What cometh next is interesting to know…!

Medical Specialists

Often I wonder what makes a doctor specialize in one specific part of the body. What triggers anyone to want to look at people’s teeth all their lives? Or ears, or eyes, or skin? What makes anyone want to specialize on human body’s grossest part and become a proctologist? I doubt if it is because of the money or if it is because of the demand and lack of supply. Think about the dreams these doctors would have!

The thing that I don’t understand is this: was it a dream that they wanted to specialize in such parts of body or it just happened so? I can understand if it is the latter. What I call as “going through the flow of the river of life.” I can understand it because I relate to it better. Let’s say you are studying medical because that was your dream and you are as yet undecided what to specialize in – I can relate to this. You get average grades and the only specialized medical profession that accepts such grades is something that you cannot tell openly to your family and friends unless they talk about it to you because they are having a problem – I can relate to this too.

What I cannot understand though is that my experience with all these specialized doctors [either because I myself had a problem or I had to meet such doctors because of my family] is amazing. Their analysis and surgery is spot-on. Their humility is unsurpassed. Their confidence doesn't demand a ‘second-opinion’.

They cannot be doing what they are doing because they got into the profession by the ‘flow of river of life’ or because they got average grades. They are clearly doing what they are doing because they want to do what they like doing. This is what boggles my mind. This fact that the Supreme Being programmed a certain percentage of the population to aim for specialization in a unique part of the body to cater to Man’s natural “body” problems is what boggles me.

But for these ‘specialists’, it numbs the mind what would have happened to the rest of us.
But for these ‘mini-Gods’, ours could not have been a great world.

Other than just bowing inwardly and thanking the Heaven for these God-sends, there is nothing else to do when each time I sit helplessly in the hospital or in the waiting room of such doctors. Again, Saint Tyagaraja’s immortal words come to my mind:

Endaro Mahanubhavulu Andariki Vandamulu.

Loving, Doing, Living

Random questions during drive back home today...

To love what you do
or
To do what you love?

To live the way you love to
or 
To love the way you live?

To do what you love and not love the way you live
or
To live the way you love and not do what you love?

To love to live
or
To love to do?

Just love?
or
Just live?
or
Nike?

:-)

Health Check

Wheat bread instead of White bread? Check.
Daily green tea? Check.
Daily almonds? Check.
Taking stairs instead of elevator? Check.
Drinking lots of water? Check.

150 hours of moderate weekly exercise? Uncheck.
Keeping the brain challenged? Uncheck.
Brown rice? Uncheck.
Less sweets? Uncheck.
Saying “No” to Junk food? Uncheck.

Synopsis: For every good, there is an equivalent bad. This offsets Nature to either give a truly healthy life or a truly unhealthy life - and it all balances out in the end. At least, that is the hope!

"shun"s

When it is too hard to take a decision, 
It stays put as an indecision.
Indecision leads to inaction.
Then, the only course of action 
Is to let Fate choose the direction.

The Wishes That Never Came True

Here’s wishing Enginjo a happy married life and very best wishes…

I had said this in 2007, soon after her wedding.

And this weekend, I thought about her again, since she had her birthday.

Alas, my wishes never came true.

The Second Child

My wife and I are at that stage of life where we are often asked about planning for the second child. We are not too much in favor of it, and unfortunately I guess we are denying Tontu a sibling in the process. All those fights and wars and secrets and love along with it.

Of course, it is great fun to have a baby and is definitely a life-altering experience. There I was, thinking Been There, Done That, little knowing, I hadn't been anywhere nor done nor seen anything! A baby in the family and parenthood changes every perspective of life. There is something new to look forward to everyday. A small yet significant milestone of the little one. And the rate at which the little one grows is both stunning and saddening. Here you are wishing, she would start crawling, and there you are seeing her already running. When did she crawl? How were her first steps? Gosh, things happen so fast - like in a movie. It is as if - today is the day when she will do this and tomorrow, she would have grown out of it, so enjoy and soak in all of these today, for you might never get to see this nor experience this ever again in your life!! Before long, you start forgetting what all your child went through until you see the snaps and recorded videos. And then, when you see the snaps and videos, comes the blissfulness and the pleasant smile of 'Ah! What a time we had!' With that, comes the next thought - "Want to live through it again?"

Whenever I think about this question or when this topic comes up amongst conversations with third parties, the reply is mostly in the negative. But sometimes I wonder what is the right thing to do. I guess, at my age, I want to have more of M, T and E to myself and my wife to enjoy the freedom. But, I fear, as I grow older, this perception might change. As one of my older colleagues recently remarked, she wished she had given birth to many children during her time because it is so nice for her to have them all for lunch or get-togethers during festivals and holidays. This, from a person, who already has 2 children.

Even when during my many interactions with my grandparents, one of the main things they used to repeat was how dearly they needed our (grandchildren in general) love and affection and attention because it meant so much for them. I guess as you grow older, you feel more lonely and insecure in the world. Unless, of course, if you are within a close-knit large family. And a family can only be large when there is more than one child to start with.

Hmmm. It sure is difficult to plan for the life ahead.

The Additional Hour

After a long time, I felt there was lot of time at hand today. It was literally true. There was an additional hour gifted today because Time was pulled back by 1 hour at 2 am to get back into the standard time as today signified the end of daylight saving time. We did not change the time in the house clocks or watches so that each time we saw the time, we felt happy that it was actually an hour less. Imagine seeing time as 7 o’clock on a Sunday evening only to realize that it is actually 6 o’clock! Every additional minute is worth it on a day before the grueling week starts!

But a lot of things about changing the time doesn’t make sense to me. I read about it on the Wikipedia and it made some sense but the amount of complexity that a time change brings about in the world is enormous especially for those working on massive amount of data and related information-gathering. For folks who are monitoring a flight’s plan, lets say, the flight is at one location and altitude at 1:30 am. Now, the same flight will be in a different location and different altitude but at the same time 1:30 am! Many jobs processing output files will append file name with date and time considering that time is a unique fact. If these jobs are processing hourly, then there will be an issue of the second file overwriting the first file. A patient’s pulse monitoring between 1 am and 2 am will have two versions of truth for the same duration.

The scenarios are mind boggling and this concept of changing time twice a year is utterly unnecessary and self-complicated. Just to generate more employment, I guess. Like so many other things in this country.

Anyways, for now, let me enjoy the additional hour.

Weekend Workaholism

Nor did I in 2010.
Maybe couple of times in 2011.

But looks like it is all coming back with a vengeance now.
Already worked many weekends in 2012.

And currently working on the 7th consecutive weekend.
And have plans for working next weekend too.

:-(

Job Change Thoughts

As I said that day, I was having a myriad of thoughts. But it has now been 6 months since I quit my previous job and I can see a semblance of feelings: primarily being old habits, extraction, guilt, interactions and achievement.

Old Habits: My previous job was something that I had held for over 9 years. A user name which I had used for over 9 years to login to the computer – that is how my day in the office used to start every single day. So it doesn’t come as a surprise to me that sometimes even now I use the same login name to start my day only to realize that the mind has not fully accustomed to the fact that I am in a new job with a new login name and hence the old one is not valid anymore. The same happens to meeting audio conference number. The mind subconsciously tells the fingers to dial that same conference number which I was so used to all these years. After all, 9-year-old habits don’t die easily.

Extraction: It is amazing how much knowledge we would have gathered during our livelihood. We will only realize it when we quit and start transitioning it all to our substitute(s) in the job due to our departure. All the knowledge, all the processes, all the dependencies – it is like you are in the middle of a shrub that has fully grown and you need to now place this entire shrub onto someone else. Each time a piece of the shrub is extracted, there seems more to it than what it initially appeared. Finally when you feel you have done a good job transitioning, and on the last day you return the badge and the laptop and other official stuff, it is as if you are metaphorically dying – and leaving behind all you have known for decades. The next day is a new day, new job, new people, new place – as if it is a new life.

Guilt: I have to say that sometimes I feel guilty. Continuing the allegory - It is one thing to die naturally; it is another thing to end one’s own life. The same is with employment I guess. There will always be heaviness in one corner of the heart. For so many of the life-altering circumstances, for affording the luxury of life, for creating footprints in distant corners of the globe – one has to be eternally grateful to the company that provided the safety of the nest, taught the necessity of knowledge and gave the wings to fly.

Interactions: Colleagues, of course, matter a lot. All those wonderful people with whom you interacted for years together not only add to the guilt but almost stop the ultimate step to be taken. How much ever it is promised to ‘Keep in touch’, life will never be the same again. A high likelihood is that, you will never see your colleague-turned-friends never again in your life. That job and that office was the foundation for day-to-day interaction. Once that foundation is lost, there is no more interaction. And this interaction was the best part of the working life: be it time-pass chat over Instant Messaging or the discussion during the coffee break or the interesting conversation at lunch time. This interaction was what made the working day bright, and a stop to this chit-chat is a huge lump in the throat.

However, considering how everyone wishes you ‘Congrats!’ when you break the news to them, it is as if you have done an achievement and it makes you wonder why you have not done this often!!

What is money to me?

Scene 1: Saturday; Around 11 am; Rest Area on I-5 South; 1 hour from San Diego:

I went to a cool drink dispensing machine and punched the number corresponding to coke. Then put in $1.25. I was expecting the coke to be delivered but nothing happened. I kept punching the “Done” button but nothing happened. I tried retrieving the amount I had paid but there was no option to do that too. I thought something was wrong with the vending machine. So I went to the neighbouring one. Somebody was there. I saw what he was doing. He input the dollars and then punched the number corresponding to the drink. The drink got delivered. So I realized I was trying the other way – punch the drink number and input money, when actually I had to input money and then punch the drink number. Now since I had already input money, all I had to do was to punch the number corresponding to the drink.

Just then, someone came to the vending machine where I had input my money and input his $5. So now the vending machine had $6.25 and still waiting for a drink to be delivered. This new person then punched a drink number that was costing $1.25, got the drink and the machine returned back the change $5 to this person. This person was surprised that he got a drink for free, grabbed the drink and his money and went smiling away, thanking his stars. While all this happened in front of me, my mind was too numb to assimilate the facts and it shocked me that I unwillingly, like a stupid moron, donated a $1.25 drink to perhaps a very affluent person.

It just pissed me off real bad and I felt like tearing out my hair.

***

Scene 2: The Same Saturday; Around 1 pm; An Indian Restaurant in San Diego:

Paavani had slept off in the car and we didn’t want to disturb her. So we parked the car in the parking lot near the restaurant and thought it was better to order a take-out instead of going for the buffet. After I ordered the bare minimum that would fill our stomach, I realized that if we had waited till Paavani had woken up (which could not have been more than 30 minutes anyways) and gone for the buffet, we all could have had unlimited food with wide variety and for half the price.

This too pissed me off real bad and I felt like tearing out my hair.

***

Scene 3: The Same Saturday; Around the same time; The same Indian Restaurant in the same San Diego:

While I was waiting in the car for our order to be processed, I saw my dad coming out of the restaurant with the food. Since I had not paid yet, I ran towards the restaurant to fulfill the bill but my dad mentioned he had paid in cash since I wasn’t in the vicinity. Now it had just so happened that I had registered for 5% cash back for billing in any restaurant through my credit card. The only solace for this seemingly enormous bill was my 5% cash back and, thanks to my dad, this hope of a meager saving too vanished. If only I was waiting in the lobby instead of in the car, I could have paid the bill myself.

This too pissed me off real bad and I felt like tearing out my hair.

***

Scene 4: The next day; Around 11 am; A barbershop in Tustin:

What with all the feeling of wanting to tear my hair out, I thought I had enough hair to be cut anyways. So I went to a barbershop near my home. While I was getting my hair cut, the barbers were talking in great animation. Apparently the previous customer had not paid the money and had gone missing for almost an hour, with the promise that he will return back as soon as he got hold off an ATM. Since this barbershop accepted only cash, and the customer just had a card, he had excused to go to the ATM, get the cash and pay the barber back. Considering that the ATM was right outside the barbershop and considering that he had not come back even though it was almost an hour, the suggestion was thrown around that the man had escaped with a free haircut. And this caused great anxiety to the barbers because they were all well beyond their 50s and not used to being cheated out of their money like this. Apparently this customer was an Indian too. So my barber asked me if there were many people who cheat like this in India. It is a tough question and ‘many’ is a relative adjective. I dodged the question saying that I was sure he is going to come back and pay his dues.

For the rest of my hair cut, I kept waiting (like all the barbers too, I am sure) but this customer never came. Finally I was done and it was time for me to go. I decided on the spot that I would pay for the previous customer too and funded the full dues despite the barber’s resistance. The barber said that I was a good man, standing for my countryman, and made me promise that I had to return the next month. As I made my way out, I felt light and happy with what I had done.

***

These four episodes made me wonder. There I was, getting pissed off on losing few dollars but here I am, not minding paying completely for someone else. On all the instances, I became lighter on the wallet but few made me sad and one made me happy. So, the question which I could not answer myself was:

What is money to me?


Post Script: About a month later when I returned to the same barbershop for my next haircut, I didn’t have to pay anything (apart from the tips), as the Indian customer had returned and paid his dues immediately after my departure…

Just for the Love of the Granddaughter...

The first moments of their visits captured in video...

Paternal Granma; Aug 2011; Flew over 8130 miles.

Paternal Granpa; Jun 2012; Flew over 9025 miles.

Maternal Granma; Sep 2012; Flew over 9025 miles.

Such commendable love!!

A Long Weekend Thought

It is a long weekend & this makes me wonder if...

Tough-work, burning-midnight-oil, "I-hate-office", good-pay, exotic-vacation is better.
Or.
Easy-work, 9-to-5, "I-love-my-job", mediocre-pay, unaffordable-vacation is better.

Exit line:
"...Sighh...They say nobody lies on his deathbed wishing he'd spent more time at the office."
- Bill Watterson (Said by Calvin's Dad)

PS: Ironical though it may seem, this long weekend constituted of ["Tough-work, burning-midnight-oil, 'I-hate-office', good-pay, no-vacation-due-to-work"]

:-(

The Middle of the Intellectual Spectrum

Sometimes I feel it is so important to have highly intellectual people all around you. Even a simple conversation with such folks can be so enchanting and enjoyable.

On the contrary, having to interact with intellectually-challenged folks gets so annoying at times; you have to keep repeating over and over again to make them understand, and it disturbs your own productivity.

At the same time, I wonder how many people with whom I have worked till date have felt annoyed for having to repeat things to me over and over again as I may have sounded as an intellectually-challenged individual!

Well, thats the advantage of being in the middle of the intellectual spectrum of people. You can experience the irritation of being with lower intellects and the wows of being with higher intellects!

:-)