Happy Onam!

Come August / September, there is a smile in every Malayali's face and heart. It is the official excuse for us to eat, sing and be merry. Why, you ask us? Its because it is Onam - Kerala's own festival of Harvest!

There are things that we want very well defined - like the color and the feel of our clothes, like the dimensions of our house; and there are some things which are never defined - like our festivals. It simply means has its own unique meanings to everyone. And conveniently, we all take it to mean what we want it to mean!

For foodies (like me :) ), it is an excuse - and an official one at that - to eat more ( lovingly refered to as Ona Sadya ), for kids - it is an excuse not to study and to expect new clothes, for the new city bred middle class - it is a formal excuse to splurge at an exquisite restaurant ( and not the same one that they went all week, anyways :) ), and for those menfolk, nay, married menfolk, whose better halves control their reach to their favorite bitter liquids, it is an official excuse to bring out those bottles and enjoy them with their friends!

I have lots of fond memories (and quite so many almost withered photographs) of my own Onam celebrations. The first thing to think of during Onam are the pookkalams - the design made by colorful flowers. In those times, entrepreneurs hadn't commercialized our lives as much, so, for us short kids in shorts, it was nothing short of an expedition in the early morning to get ( pick, jump and pick, jump and steal :) ) as many flowers as we could get ( and get them before other kids get them or the neighbor wakes up to safeguard his little garden :) ). Once the collection is over, you hand it over to the experts - the parents, the uncles and aunts who would then use all their imagination to make pretty designs on the floor with them. Some geometrical, some color patterned - but there was one thing that was always there - they were always pretty and beautiful!

Almost in all the Onams that i can remember, i got the Onakkodi - the new clothes! My face would lighten up at the sight of those new clothes and i would try to be in them in no time flat. There were no brands, no fancy labels, but the just the fact that you are wearing something new was more than any other joy! There was only one more joy, that could overpower this one - the one that is caused by the lifting smell of the OnaSadya!

More than the varieties of food ( and the pappadoms - oh the pappadoms! - the crispy crispy fried wafers! ) it was the variety of people around that used to make me happy - All the uncles, the aunts, the parents, the grand parents - it was an occasion when the whole big house would turn into a big home by the loud conversations, the laughter and the happiness. Those few days, everyone would forget all the trouble of the day to day life - the togetherness would cover all that.

After the Sadya, after everyone has cleaned up, slowly one by one everyone would try to catch up few winks of sleep. The entire family would be in the same room, lying on the cold red oxide floors or on bamboo mats, chitchatting with each others, the voices slowly, lazily transitioning into silence or light snores.

You know how these politicians spoil everything for you? :) They had my parents convinced (like pretty much all the other parents, i guess ) that good education is a must have for all growing kids. It was already bad enough with the milk and vegetables, now education too ? :( Anyways, my parents were convinced and they took me off to Ranchi, where my father was employed, to make me join a bigger school and continue my studies. But then, to their credit, they did keep the tradition of Onam live, in our hearts and in our home!

Onam was still the day to expect good food and new clothes. It was just that the North Indian School mgmt found no reasons to give a week of holidays to the kids for some king visiting the Southern State of Kerala. ( Don't know legend? Look here! ) We might have moved physically away, miles up north, from the family in Kerala - from all those uncles, aunts, grand parents, but we had found our family here too. The colony where we lived had a very healthy group of malayalees an Onam was a reason for the dearest friends to come together, cook and eat the Sadya together. I still remember all the fun, laughter and cheer that the crowd would have at our house, people crowding to cut vegetables, to cook - the only difference, for me , was to convince my father that Onam was reason enough not to study ( I think the above said politicians had influenced by father much more than my grandparents - so it was as much more difficult to convince )

Those were the days the telephone numbers still 3 digits or at best 4, the TVs had antennas and the only network signal strength that we were all worried about were the Doordarshan TV strength! So the Onam was also the time write many letters - to all the family and near and dear friends, not a real substitute for the chitchatter while sliding to sleep in the cold red oxide floor, but it would convey all the happiness, all the cheer and the closeness that we felt with the same strength!

"Onam weekend" also made its official entry - the weekend when the Malayalee Association would hold the Onam festivities in the community center - cultural activities that included a Pookkalam competition, a very elaborate OnaSadya and a screening of a Malayalam film ( which almost always turned into a fashion show to showcase who had the best looking clothes :) )

Education or no education, it was not stopping me from growing up. towards my college time, the Indian govt, gracefully accepted my father's request for a transfer and relocated us to Chennai - In south India, neighboring our home state, Kerala. Time might have changed a lot of things, our address, our outlook, our clothes and shoes - but Onam still held a very special place in my hart. Along with the faded jeans, the graphic t shirts and Michael Jackson the city life had brought along its own influences - and so did it bring compromises on the Onam celebrations. The Pookkalams were restricted to the "live telecast of the Pookkalam competition from our studios". It was no more "cool" to wear shiny new clothes.. :). But one thing remained - The OnaSadya ( with the pappadums, oh those crispy fried pappadums ). Since it would have been such a drag to prepare the elaborate Sadya for just the three of us in the family, my friends were usually invited for the lunch. Some of them, throughly enjoyed it, but for some others, it used to be a refresher course in "100 different ways to use coconut in food items!" :) With my father being the eager host that he is, he would always ensure that the "guests" always eat to his, which usually was much more than their, fill :) After the fulfilling food, all of us would just crash out on the couch, and my mother would walk in with the small bowls of Payasam!! How much ever full we were, we would all invite this with smiles!

After the heavy Sadya and the payasam, my friends and I would chitchat about girls, about classes and making plans of catching up in the evening. The evening was to be my "treat" in any of the local chaat shops. The official Onam weekend still remained, but transitioned to a eve of Onam festivals at our college hostel. More of cooking, more of fun, more of festivities. I still remember one Tug of War competition which was between the lecturers and the admin staff of the college - and in the middle, the rope just gave way. As the lecturers piled on one another, there was a rush from the "organizing committee" to the kitchen!!! :)

As much as i was growing, so was technology and so were the digits in the phone numbers - they had increased to 7 digits from those 3 and 4 digits. One of those 7 digits also adorned our wooden cabinet. The long letters were now replaced by the long set of digits that we had to dial to speak to each of our friends and family. As much as the Inland Letter would limit the words in the letter, the fear of a huge telephone bill would ensure short wishes and small conversations! The only letter that still remained was the long distance aerogramme which would carry our wishes through the letter to our relatives living across the seas. making an overseas call would have tremendous impact on the telephone bills and were as yet forbidden acts at home! Along with these 7 digit wonders, some more things had changed, Doordarshan had given way to the Stars and the MTVs of the world. So as my parents and i cleaned up after the lunch, and lied down in the cold concrete floor of our flat, we would turn to the TV to watch the "Onam Special Malayalam Movie" !! Slowly, the conversations in the movie would transition to our light snores! :)

the nuclear family slowly gave way to the family of friends - and that was really a big group once i completed my education and moved on employment. Onam pookkalams moved back into my real life from those telecasted in the TV's - but there were slight differences though. Those homely events were now called "Corporate Motivational Events" and moved to the tiled and marbled floors of our offices. The search for the bright colorful flowers in the misty chilly mornings with friends were replaced by vroom filled motorcycle trips in the previous night to the crowded hot dusty flower bazaars. The fear of getting caught while nipping flowers from our neighbors Garden were replaced by the fear of not getting enough budget from our bosses to buy them! The simple eloquent color patterns were replaced by complex designs, downloaded from the Internet. The child's simple and wide-eyed "oooh - look at our neighbors designs, that is so pretty" were replaced the youth's competitive ' Look at them, their design has more colors, lets also get some more colors! - Lets google for more designs!!!!"

The thrill of wearing new dresses had transitioned to a fancy dress show aptly titled, Traditional dress days by our employers! This bought the comical melange of traditional "Mundu" being worn by very un-traditional youngsters so used to the jeans and baggies! So mundu's usually would be accompanied by a tightly worn leather belt around the waist to ensure no mishaps! :) And there would definitely be one of those jokers, who would conveniently forget that bright colored underpants would show up through the simple attire :). Colorful Saris and Salwars fought for attention among shiny silk Kurtas in the office space that would usually witness a flurry of light blue and white shirts! Even the OnaSadya had its own transition. The lovely aromas of home cooked food were replaced by wide eyes of those beautiful Sadya photos in the restaurant websites. The happy crowding around the dining table by the family was replaced by the still happy crowding at the local restaurant among thousand other folks!

Along with the wallets ( that would pay for the elaborate OnaSadya ) that would be artfully placed at some place in the mundu, shirt pocket or the belt,every person was also adorned with one more weapon - that of the mobile phones!. The short conversations after the long list of digits got changed to cryptic text messages sent as bulk to 523 names in the address book. The joy of hearing the family's voice in the phone was replaced by the joy of hearing the continuous "beep-beeps" as more and more friends and family sent the same messages to your phone!

Times changed, practices changed - and yet the festival keep coming back to us year after year.

Here i am now, sitting in a foreign country, looking at a blinking monitor as mails keep dropping in. It's just another work day here. Cars ply carrying their coffee drinking drivers to offices, people walk past each other engrossed in their BlackBerrys. A bowl of steamy Oats cereal sits on my table as i rewind my fond memories in my head. Feels very funny to look out and not see even a small sign of a festival. In India, irrespective of where you are, you could always look out nd see some sign of a regional festival - a corner temple having too many sandals outside, a sweet shop having a crowded stall, a child walking gleefully in new shiny dress holding her father's hands, loud conversation snips carried by the wind talking with laughter and carrying the wishes - there would be something that infect you with the pleasantness and cheer of the festival.

As i turn my gaze from the window, i can hear my wife in the other room, using the latest technology of internet based calling to wish all our family and friends a Happy Onam. No worry of a huge bills, no cryptic messages - the same long winded talks that you would have had if the family was sitting next to each other.I Can hear small snips of her conversations - wishing families happy Onam - inquiring about the Sadya - and i am suddenly drawn into a feeling of goodwill and cheer. Drawn to the togetherness that has somehow traveled across the globe from our family to wrap its warm hands around us.

It lasts a fleeting instant to be destroyed by the continuous "beeps" of new emails buzzing in. But it is enough - it makes my day and fills my face with a smile, as i alt-tab to my email window and start my day.. "Thanks for the mail - but i am not sure....."

Happy Onam Folks!!!!

Happiness - found at a subway station.

At the Harvard square t station in Boston, there is this street performer playing guitar and singing. We've seen them in so many places, in so many costumes.

But there's something different about her - beyond the fact that she is singing in Chinese. She seems incredibly happy just to be there and to be singing. No, I mean not just a smile, but from the heart. How does she do it?

Around her I find the contrast- people upset that it's hot outside, people upset that their mobiles don't have network signal, people who are upset, I don't know why! And me too, I am upset, for a silly fight at home.

Am almost embarrassed to look at her - how can i be upset when my life is so good? upset enough to spoil my day at something so silly? Am sure she has her won issues and problems - no man ever was and is without problems - but she simply choses to be happy. And here i was, choosing to feel miserable on a very very silly spat! As i kept looking at her smile, at some point, i realized that i was smiling too - my frown had disappeared!

With a loud racket, my train had arrived and while walking towards the train, dropped some money onto her box. With the same smile, she said - thank you!

No, thank YOU lady, thank YOU!!

Super Panda to the rescue !!! :) :) - A Very different Experience on internet purchase

I had a very pleasing experience on one of my internet purchases. I had ordered ink for my printer from an online store www.yoyoink.com.

I had no previous experience from the store - had zero-ed in on them based on the lowest price for the cartridges based on google results. So, apart from a decent, hassle-free shopping and shipping experience - i did not have any further expectations.

The user experience was good, and the shopping transaction completed easily. Shipping was also good - the cartridges arrived today by 6 days. But the best was yet to come.

Imagine my pleasant surprise, when i opened the package, and found a lovely handwritten post-it note from Lance - thanking me for the order and wishing me good times with the ink!! That was such a unexpected human touch - that i loved it!



It was such a nice change from the typical CRM mails that i get from many other big shops on the net - Keep up the great work Team yoyo!! - Next time my ink dries out - i know which URL i will click on!! :) It feels good to know that somebody actually looked through the order and packed them for you - and took pains to drop you a personal note - Especially during these times, where even the person at the fast food counter where you go every day, doesn't bother looking at your eyes - Something at the billing counter always is more attractive :)

And if you haven't tried Yoyo - i would recommend you give them a try - They not only deliver well - they might even bring a smile to your face on a gloomy rainy day! :)

An Ode to an Unknown Mentor

I read through a newsletter today that Rita Mulcahy, PMP has passed away. For anyone who has written the PMP exam knows that Rita Mulcahy's books were almost the bible for us - and a benchmark of how well we might fare in the exam.

I didnt know Rita. I have no clue of how she looked, how she thought and how she worked. But at the same time, her works has brought about another achievement for me, another ceritification for me. It must be amazing to know that what you produce is affecting 100's of; nay; 10,000s of people who wrote this exam.

I wonder if all those of us who have used her knowledge and the result of her hard work - would know, or even care enough to say - oops! Here was a person who had directed me, who had taught me quite a few valuable lessons - and that person, is no more!!

May her soul Rest in Peace.

Announcement about her death from the RMC site:

"Rita Mulcahy, Founder of RMC Project Management and the best-selling project management author of all-time, passed away on Saturday, May 15th 2010, from complications related to a five-year battle with Inflammatory Breast Cancer (IBC)"

What motivates People?

Through the tweet of someone whom i follow - i read ( actually heard ) a very interesting piece about "what motivates people to work better". ( You can hear it too at http://blogs.psychcentral.com/channeln/2010/05/what-motivates-people-to-work-better.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+ChannelN-PodcastsPoweredByOdiogo+%28Channel+N+%2B%29 ) Even if you didnt like the actual message - you would love the way it is rendered through animation. Awesome!

Anyways - one of the key points mentioned was that in cognitive task ( for those of us lay men - it means that includes thinking, creativity and not mechanical repeatable tasks ) money is not a motivator. But to me, the most important point in the whole story was - "Pay People Enough to take the issue of money off the table" _Once you do that, then money is no more a motivator.

That to me is a brilliant thought. And a very subtle fact. And i guess it applies to all levels, all areas. If there aer things weighing down in you mind - your aim isonly to somehow make it happen. Once that is achieved, then you can chase your mind and your will.

I am sure a lot of my friends would say - waht's so big about this thought and tease me that i make a big point of it. But to me, i think this is a very important point that we can all use in our day to day work life as an important way to motivate our team.

Know what material desire is weighing down each of your team member. Use a solution to those problems as a incentive. Once that is achieved, do another search to identify what can really satisfy the sould of the team member. change your incentive plan to the new carrot.

Motivating your team is never a point of time exercise - It is an evolving activity and needs you to be always connected to your team!!

"I did something wierd today!"

And that would be wierder than taking up the mobile phone and sending a tweet mentioning this to half the world? :)

I was reading Dracula ( again! :) ). The whole book is written as a collection of diary notes - some by Jonathan Harker, some by Mina HArker and some by other characters. Stoker is able to simply pull the whole narrative together through these posts!

I was wondering how the book would have been written had it been Dracula 2.0...

As the train goes chug chugging to the carpathian mountains, Jonatahn would open up his laptop and start typing his blog - The Journey to the Carpathian, part 1. His fears, the wierd happening would all be noted in the blog. HIs lover, wife to be Mina would get a minute to minute update on his travel ( She would probably even comment - JOnathan, pull down the window of the train, you would catch cold! )

And then Jonathan would open up google maps and drop a pin on the current location where he is- Just so, that he can tell others that "oh, well, you know, i have been to all corners of the world, blimey!"

As he gets down and the localites give him the cross, the garlic and the other things to ward off evil spirits, he would take a video of the same using flip and directly upload that to youtube ( Fetching a comment from musiclova2145: "awesome video , dude!! Can i add some background songs to this?" )

And as they mention their wishes in the native tongue, Jonathan would open the translator app in iPhone or Droid and convert what they say to English. Now he is definitely a more informed man!!!

And i am sure he woul have been more informed about Castle Dracula, as he would have read about it in Wikipedia ( where else :) )

The Dracula Bite Video has a million hits in the last one month and has gone viral!
eBay suddenly has a lot more Garlic sellers..
Craigslist has seen a spurt in a lot of classified ads for night life lovers...

Would have beena pretty some novel - Dracula 2.0 :)

The Chronicles of Jay-nia… Akkare Akkare Akkare

"Akkare Akkare Akkare" is the name of a very entertaining Malayalam movie from the 80's – telling us the story of two bungling detectives and their escapades to find a thief in the US of A. I thought this would be the apt title for this serried relasting to my travel and the bungling adventures that I would ( I wrote might and then replaced by would, am sure I would have some comical adventures J ) have during my maiden trip to the US of A.

29^th Jan was the day – And what a long day it was.. I started my flight from namma Singara Chennai on the early morning of 29^th – AS early as 1:50 AM. Someone told me that I would love the flight as the Airways has personal in flight entertainment. But after trying to watch couple of Malayalam movies, which I did not cross half an hour, and one Hindi movie, which I braved for half an hour, I gave up inflight entertainment and and gave in to my personal in flight entertainment – that of dreaming though my sleep. J After flying ten hours I landed at a very pretty Brussels, the transit port, at 7:50 AM 29^th January. People had warned me that to keep my warm clothes at hand, but the big me had a lot of belief in my own warmer – the layers of fat all around my waist – when would they come handy to me, if not now ? J - So I had my overcoat, safely packed inside my cabin baggage. Even when the captain announced an outside temperature of – 2 degrees C, I smiled at him, looked around majestically – I will show you all – what it is to be fat, and happy J

Ladies and gentleman, -2 deg C is extremely cold. Brrrr….extrrrremely. It was nice to breathe out chilled air at first, but thwn the chill grips your legs, you know what it is. I almost ran inside the airport. I knew a long walk loomed in front of me, but the funniest part of this part of my travel was about to start. The cops directed me to a security check. They had these convoys next to which these shallow wide rectangular plastic baskets were stacked. My Indian Sense of look and learn were at my highest. The look and learn was aided by this security lady who instructed me to put my bags, shoes, wallet, watch, belt in the bins and pass though the metal detector. And I did that. I kept my laptop bag in the carousel, took a plastic bin, kept my wallet, keys, phone in it. Then I took off my shoes, kept in the basket, and then took off my belt ( I could almost feel the music and perform a full monty :P ), dumped them in the bin and I was just about to walk through the metal detector, that couple of questions took me by surprise. The conversation went as follows:

" Is that your laptop?"

Nod. In Indian language, it means yes. I am hoping that these men in blue would also understand. They did.

"Get it off, you know, Naked"

I was like WOW! It took me couple of nano seconds to realize that if they are gonna get me naked, they would also get the lovely looking girls naked. Wow, what a job! Dirty mind !! J Then the next thought struck – what the hell, Naked ? Out here, in public in this airport. Well, Security is security – couldn't question them, could I, so I got my reluctant fingers around my jeans button, and the guard looked at me strangely and shouted "Grab your laptop bag before it gets inside the scanner" – I did – and then he said – "now get the laptop out of the bag, and keep it separate "… Then It dawned on me. It was not me that he wanted naked, it was my laptop J

Anyways, there were no further issues, and I passed successfully to the gate of the connecting flight. And then I remembered, I had to call Shashank, my friend when I landed in Newark Airport. And my phone had been warning me of "Low Battery" every time I switch it on, so I had to depend on public pay phone when I landed there. I did have some dollars with me, which I had converted when starting from Chennai, but had no Quarters of Coins. And my Indian ingenuity started to work again.

Looking very innocent, I meandered inside a airport shop. Picked up a pack of Mint drops priced at Euro 1.5 – so that should approx be about USD 3 and I gave it to the counter. And with the item, asked her, so- can I pay you in dollars. She was like, sure, you can! I was immensely happy with this ingenious plot that i had hatched. I gave her a ten $ note. She converted the currency on her machine, and … retuned me change in Euros! I was taken aback and told her, madam – I gave you dollars, so you give me dollars back. ( And I was thinking, Ha! She thought she could cheat me ? J ) She looked me and said, sir, we only accept dollars to help our customers, we are nto allowed to transact in dollars. So I can only give you Euro's back.

So there I was, sitting in Brussels Airport, looking around a snow covered landscape, and a brilliant orange sun rising slowly in front me. I am sure most of the people around me thought, I was looking a little dull because of the cold, how could they have realized that I was not 10 $ short, and about 4 euro and some change heavier ? And of course, add to that a pack of Mint drops for which I ahd paid INR 150 !!!!! For 150 rupees, I can walk into a restaurant back home, have a sumptuous lunch, and they might have given me mint mouth freshers free after it !!!! Sigh !

Another eight hours in the flight to Newark Airport. The flight took me across the United Kingdom, and the ocean.. From snow covered lands to a large water mass. More attempts to watch Hindi movies and Malayalam movies. No success there. Couldn't take it more than one hour. Welcomed my own personal dream station for quite some time. Landed in Newark Airport at 12:40 PM Jan 29^th.

There is one thing that I realized immediately. It is impossible to feel lost in the airport. All you have to do, is to just follow the signs. I walked to the immigration department, got my entry stamped and entered the land. And of course, there was the shoes, jacket, ( I had my jacket on me, by then J ) wallet, purse show again – but no mention of the nakedness J. I was at the carousel, waiting my my bog box, and I heard a dog yelp at my feet. A little used to weird happenings by then, I looked around to see a policewoman pointing at my cabin luggage and making a dog scent it. Aha – you can't beat me – I have read enough about getting food and stuff to America, so I have nothing there. I had the satisfied look on my face after the quick inspection and the dog, slightly unsatisfied. J

It was good to see Shashank at the airport. Real nice of him to have come to pick me up. He took me to the guest house, made me feel comfortable and then we went out for lunch. I liked what I was seeing. The entire streets, lined with snow, chilly weather – it was definitely different from the hot and sweaty Chennai. Most of the people living there would have hated it, but as a visitor, I loved it. Shashank drove me around to Newark and we located a Thai restaurant, which he said was really nice. It really was. After a good lunch, we walked out to the street.

We had just started walking, and we heard a "phuutt" behind my head. I turned back immediately and realized that someone had thrown a block of ice at me. We saw couple of African American teenagers on the other side of the street, running down laughing among themselves. Hooliganism, it seems, does not spare the best of countries! I guess I was jus plain lucky not to have got hit. Anyways, life continues – I had to reach Minneapolis that night getting ready for a presentation and Shashank dropped me at the airport. He had made all arrangements – had booked my tickets, had got me an accommodation at the Hilton – It was really nice of him to have done all that. If he is going to pamper me like that, I am definitely going to Enjoy my life in here J

Achchaa-een, I Love You!

NOvember is a month of "looking forward to" for a lot of people. The Entire city of Chennai looks forward to it's "Marghazhi" festival -a whole month of music, kutcheri's and festivities in the next month. And very similarly, my family looks forward to the coming together of the different members. My mother's side, all five siblings make their attempts to get together at our village house during this month. And all of us, the nephews and nieces make our own attempt to join the festivities. The more the merrier.

This time, one such nephew was the highlight. Our man - named "Hari", who currently pursues his PhD in the US of A was staying in his "tharavad" after a very long period and we were all looking forward to meeting him. In these times of togetherness, every night becomes a night of our partying, in our own specific ways... Probably not partying in it's own sense, but these aer nights that grow old with merry chitchatter, merry singing and a lot of open hearted discussions, debates and fights. This time, there was some tequila to go around, and after shooting down some of those Tequila, Hari was in a state of Euphoria. And in this state, a lot of confessions came up - Oen of such ones being "Achch-aaeen, i love you!!" Achch-aaeen being the sluurred accented pronounciation for "Achchan" the malayalam word for "Father"

Though i spent quite some amount of time and energy getting to that title, this blog is not about that trip - It is about something that happened today, but something that rides along with Hari's sentiment..

During one of her housekeeping duties today, my wife discovered an item of undisclosed source in one of our almirahs. A very pretty, flower printed "Bombay Dyeing" bedsheet. For those of us who are a part of the lastcentury in India, would know that Bombay Dyeing bedsheets are a statement of refinement. They are prtty, and they are well woven. Though i was happy seeing that, i was not happy at my lie of questions regardign this specific sheet - Who bought this? How did this come here?

Sunday afternoons are definitely not a time of activity for my poor grey cells ( Am not saying that it is, on the other days, but atleast they try! :) ) And i said, we would have bought it in one of our shopping trips. She was not to be bought into that argument. It was bombay dyeing, man - and by the feel of it, must surely be costly - How could we have spend on such an extravaganze? With raised eyebrows, she then asked a million dollar question - Would my father have bought this for us ?

We called my father in the evening, and our man staunchly refused to accept that he had kept the same here. Finally, my mother agreed that yes, it was my father!

That's my father for you. Apparently, i had mentioned some day that i was a big fan of all those terrific Bombay Dyeing bedsheets that he used to get home, and i was not having any success in getting such wonderful sheets now a days. He had just nodded that day. During his next trip, he made sure that he bought one of such sheets and without telling us, hid that in our almirah.

Today, while just browsing through the shelves of the local bookstore in Chennai, The Landmark, i saw a photoframe that said " To my Father" written in typical Archies Greetings patterns. If i ever bought this for my father, he would probably laugh and shout at me for wasting my money. And, i guess, as usual, he would be right.

For it does not need any special artifacts, any special greetings to let your feelings show. The warm lights, the fuzzy hugs that we see in the ads do not make up the fantastic chord of caring that really, truly make the relation that is a father.

I hope some day, i learn to be as good as father.

How soon Vs How Deep ?

I read somewhere that a blogger should write often, and write small - so that people would visit and would read the posts. I've been thinking about it.

I tried to do this - from articulating about things or people that i felt strongly about, which makes my blog slightly longish, and not so frequent - i forced myself to write in pretty much frequently and with brevity.

Now, I definitely do have more posts in my blog, but i have less depth. How do we analyze things without writing long posts? Am not sure if i want to follow this new paradigm. I think i would revert to my olders self. :)

(Btw, has this post become long ? :) )

Christmas - Down Memory Lane!

**All Characters mentioned in this post is real and living. All relation to living claracters and examples are definitely intentional!! :)

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Last night, I was walking through T Nagar ( Ensuring that my dear wife does not pick up too many things when she shops ) and I saw this street vendor selling the red color X mas caps. It immediately brought some fantastic memories and got me smiling.

I remember the Chris-ma, Chris-pa game ( and all the other games) that we played in our Office at Elnet. Dinesh being made to go from person to person with instructions ( all for just one chocolate!! :) ), Sharon stealing the banana from Divya’s Pongal bay decorations, Prabhu hiding under the table trying to escape from Deepa’s bashing and I having to distribute Christmas chocolates wearing a santa claus cap – come to think of it, I think we were total nuts!

It always leaves me with immense wonder as to how indelible some of the memories remain. I can still remember, the recipe instruction that Anusha had got from her friend to make bisi bele bath for one of our pot luck celebrations… I think it went something like:

1. Take cooker, add rice, and togaribele ( I still have no clue what this is :) ) and cook in cooker till three whistles… ( Ppl in anusha’s flat was telling later that they could hear Anusha trying to whistle. )
2. Take tamarind equal to one big lemon ( Imagine telling Anusha about “big” lemon – I heard she took and orange ) and …..
3. ( This is the best part ) For vaggaaarani ( this sounds like a queen’s name :) ) – little oil + Sasive ( sounds like some calling our SAsi.. :) ) + Karabevu
4. Add 4 and 3 and mix….

And to imagine – we had to eat whatever came out!!! :)

Ayon’s excuses for becoming fat was also amazing! – He blames it on him not having the refrigerator – reason? whenever he buys chicken, he has to eat the whole chicken prepared in the same night- and if he has to eat so much chicken, he must have enough rice also… :):):) So, you see, he is not to be blamed for getting larger :)

And of course, how can we forget apna Sharon – who even distributed sweets when Pallikarani was included in master_location table :)

I guess, Laks’s promise of getting a “vaira odyaanam” to Anusha is still not done!!!

I could go on and on….but the best thing to say about those times are best said by Bryan Adams in his ever living song – Summer of ’69:

……. Oh when I look back now, That summer seemed to last forever
And if I had the choice, Ya - I'd always wanna be there
Those were the best days of my life………

…………….Man we were killin' time, We were young and restless
We needed to unwind, I guess nothin' can last forever - forever, no………..

My Car!

My friend gave his five year old Honda City for sale to a dealer. It's wonderful how we suddenly realize the attachment that we have to someone or something just when we are about to part from it.

Suddenly, we remember all the good things we have done together. Even those bad happenings suddenly get remembered with humor and an attachment we never felt before. Even the fact that we cursed when we had a puncture is recounted with a smile on the face.

We shifted our houses some months back, and we took a conscious call that we will give away all those knick nacks ( is that how it is spelt ? ) that we seem to have accumulated through the days. It actually came up to about 11 backpacks or so ( including the backpacks themselves :) ) I had given the job of checking to my wife to see if there was anything of value ( economic, not sentimental - i was clear ) in those bags. After she delcared it okay, we went and donated the whole lot to an orphanage.

I know that my old camcorder, our old dvd player and a lot of my old gadgets was sincerely given away, but somehow, the first silly heart shape that she bought for me, the photoframe which was never used ( but was intended for a specific photo), some nice handiworked gift sent to us from China and the only wall hanging that i had when i got married seem to have been left behind...

I know how they got unpacked. But everytime i pick one of these up and raise my eyebrows, her sheepish smile makes me give up.

But then, aren't these a verys mall price to pay for that smile, that small bit of happiness ? :)

The PGSEM Gang Dinner

One of the biggest worries of any college kid is that once you are out of college, you dont get back to your old friends. But for us, the gang of us who did our PGSEM in IIMB, this was last of our worries. We are all working professionals and fortunately, in the same company too!

So it was not too difficult to just get together for a dinner.  Teacher was as usual, the decider. And no one dared say no to her mail :) Dishes were decided, time was decided and menu was decided. She came with her lovely daughter.  And as usual, she came first!! :)

Mani - was apna PGSEM brand ambassador, wearing the new t shirt. But the center point of attraction was Mani with the latest addition to his family - Mani Jr. :) He looked so lovely.

Ashish babu came in a paukka gentleman with his sweet wife Sejal. They made such a lovely couple. They even had matching dresses. Ashish wore a yellow shirt and we all think it was because he wanted to match Sejal's dress color.. Sigh, what marriage can do to strong bachelors :)

Anand Babu - nothing has changed for him. He as usual started late, reached ur place the last. His dinner was punctuated by his status updates to his mother and his yet to be elected home ministry ( and to add to that - to update Teacher anout what he spoke on the phone :) ). And to prove nothing had changed, after dinner, now he is back to office!!

Anyways, the PGSEM gang remains THE Gang - absolutely nuts, absolutely cranky and "jolly good fellas" :):)

We, The People, Part 2

Someone forwarded me this pic of the Mumbai rally participation.  And if this is the face of India, I am scared. Forget the himsa-ahimsa debate, here's a picture of what we, at large end up doing. Trying to hold up for a common cause, a national cause, but still immersed enough in our personal world so much that it takes precedence. (If you dont understand waht i mean, try seeing an enlarged view of the pic - the guy in the pic is busy with his cellphone!!! :) ) This pic is a fantastic image of our larger image. It shows clearly, where our preference lies.

Prbably i am being too harsh. Probably the lensman clicked when someone was genuinely trying to reach this guy.. and i happen to pick on just this one photo in the middle of so many. Who knows?

Btw, i have no right to the pic. This was forwarded to me as a forwarded mail. If there is any copyright on this pic, please let me know, and i shall remove this from here.

We, The People

I was reading the report on Rediff, "After the terror, now it is the rage". There is ( or should i say, was - the report is on 4th Dec ) action all around. People saying that it is time we took some action, it is time we did something. And now everyone is thinking of doing his or her own bit. On Dec 2, Rediff seems to have run a feature, "How do YOU plan to make a difference?" Over the last six days, we have 327 posts there.

Interesting. Even heartening. But in the heart of hearts, i still have pessimism. Forgive me to be a dampener. Is a change really possible as soon as this ? Can we, like the movies, diffuse into a mellow yellow sunshine scene and print "End everything went well from then ?". I doubt. It takes a long time for change to happen and to make an impact. Will we be able to sustain our anger, our energy and our josh till then? Or will our day to day lives pull us back ?

I dont know where, but couple of days back, i read ( in one of the internet articles ) that the ppl in the citizen's rally were considering ( or contemplating ) non payment of taxes if they were not being used for our security!!! Would that help ? Is that the solution, or isn't that just a knee jerk reaction?

What we should be doing is to actively participate in the govt. When we make ourselves a participant of the govt, we will automatically be responsible for the functioning. Take one section of our sity, where we live, look at our own roads, and actively involve and follow the proceedings in the govt related to your area. Is the road condition being discussed ? Who are the contractors, what are the tendors? How much is it being quoted for ? Can we go and ask specific contractors whom we know as truthful to quote? Can we be involved in following up for the payment?

Can we participate in the recruitment of teachers in our schools ? Can we make recommendations to set the slaries of the teachers to make it more meaningful ? Can we audit the financials of the govt.?

One individual or a small group of individuals might find these tasks extremely difficult and painful. But if the combined energy of the citizens rally could be channeled into such activities - sustained, persistive activities, then, slowly, the wheels of change would start setting in.

The point is not to set up a parallel govt. It is to participate in the current govt. When there is participation, there would be more accountability and when there is more accountability, slowly, there would be straightening. And there would evolve leaders, who have the right education and the right attitude. And then, they would drive this country.

If not I, if not my children, utleast my grandchildren, could then hope to live in a much better India.

Gandhiji once said, Be the change that you want to see. I hope i will persuade myself to go beyond my selfish life to act on these activities. And i hope i will sustain.

I cannot pledge. I am not that strong yet. But i am on the path. I hope.

I Pledge

Everyone's talking about terror.

SMS, tickers, blogs, twitter - everything talks about how we can take it. Aren't we supposed to have reached our limits of accepting terror ? We should give it back? How can we be not prepared?...

Emails are flying. Lets spread the message. Lets get all Indians together. terror is at our doorstep and we have to stand united.

We forward this to hundred people and then, log out our systems, and walk out into our world. Then we spit on the roadsides, we jump signals, we bribe the policemen to escape a heavy fine for traffic rule violation.

In Chennai, OMR has probably the largest traffic by educated drivers. All the software companies attract all the big colleges and talented people. So are the roads the safest? Are the roadsides the cleanest? Nope!!!!!

I decided, i would simply delete those forward mails, and would silently make one resolution. To pledge. to be responsive and good to the country.

I Pledge.
Not to litter or to make my country dirty.
Not to jump signals and violate traffic rules.
Not to bribe policemen toescape from hefty fines.
To vote.

I Pledge.
To respect India.

For that is the first step in respecting the sacrifice that the brave policemen are making in Mumbai. and all over the country.

What are People?

Some of them are just names. Ramanujappa, Ravi, Paul....

Some of them are faces, they twist into a smile when they meet you. But when we don't see them, we don't miss them.

Some of them are words, they make you see and hear them.You know them, you interact with them. There is this space that they occupy near you.

But few of them, are identities. People who make you feel them. They talk to you. They are with you. You change with them. Sometimes, for them. You smile with them. You smile for them. They make you smile. They point this way and you see a part of life. They point that way and you see a differnt life

And then one day, they die.

And then you ask yourself. Why did this happen to me? It was so comfortable having them around. Couldn't they stay with us for some more time ?

There is a story of a Yaksha who asks Yudhishtira this:
Qn: What is the most wonderful thing in the world?

And Yudhishtira replies:

Each day there are many that die and yet the rest of us watching believe ourselves to be permanent. That is the most wonderful thing in the world.

Poignant, and yet painfully true.

The Void

Krishnamurthy says "The moment one's by oneself, it begins. Any desire for its continuaunce, any disappointment if it does not continue does not exist. IT is simply there whether one wants it or not. It's beyond all reason and thought"

I miss my parents. and slowly all those days all those times of togetherness are fleeting in front of my eyes. I wish i had some spectacular memories to come flashing by. All that comes are simple straight memories - of anger, of fighting, of laughter, of being caught, of daily life. Those Sunday evenings, when my mother used to spend time pressing my clothed - she wanted to save that money. Not knowing the financial distress that we were going through, i used to refuse any help to my mother as i find the press-wallah right in front of my house.

My father - the idealistic man with his set of principles. Lot of poeple ridiculed him, some liked him. But he never let that bother him. The only thing that used to bother him was that we used to get bothered about such comments.

.... I wish to write more, but am flowing though too many too fast thoughts....

Krishnamurthy mentions his comment ( at the start of the blog) about conssciousness, for me its more of a depression. That's somewhere close to where i am now. - A void. It is that small place between here and there. And i am there.

To rely back on Krishnamurthy again "The pressure continues and the strain is at the base of the head and it's painful"

Ref: Krishnamurthy's notebook

Silent Revolution

I'd like to believe that a Revolution is on. A silent one at that. And i would like to dream that the wave is slowly gaining momentum till such time that it becomes a huge rollicking wave - changing the face of the sea.

For me, it started with a pleasant surprise of a print ad today morning in the Economic times.

The gist is this - Here's a chance to lead India. And no kidding.

And here's the deal. The Times of India gives you 50 lacs for a social welfare project (This and all that follows are only if you are selected, i guess). And then yo get a chance to do a masters in political sceience from Harvard. TOI gives you all the media publicity that you require. And finally, they support you to contest elections. Give you a fair and square chance to live that one life where we can do something for India.

Learn more at this URL: http://www.lead.timesofindia.com/default.asp

The concept is novel, the idea, noble. Now it is time for us to stop lip service and act on our talk. Now it is time, for us to be the change that we wish to see.

Jaago, India, Jaago.

I think the person or people selected through this are the real Indian Idols. People can Sing, can Act. They come and Go. But to lead a country - something that we keep cribbning bout and want to change - So here's the chance.

DO WE DARE?

National Anthem - Commercially packaged!

That's the mantra in everyone's lips today. India turns 60 . And am sure throusands of words have been written, thousands of keys clicked today in praise and in planning for a better land, country, India. Am sure criticisms, suggestions, disappointments, optimism, everything would be spread way across the country's cyberspace today. I, am not going to add to that.

But i really did want to do mouthspeak about one thing that i noticed today across so many TV channels ( After all, isnt it our national pastime to watch reruns of movies in TV on any national holiday ? :) ) Anyways, where was I.. ahh yes i was watching TV and almost every punctuating commercial break had ran ad of a Indian cellular giant. And the ad had various eminent vocalists rendering a very famous composition melodied by a famous composer. The composition - Our Own National Anthem !

I was taught to give respect to my National Anthem. And the first time, it rang through the tv speakers, i was proud that the channels remembered our nation on this day and i stood, in respect, of my country. Fifteen minues later - the same ad again. fifteen min later - again - and again and again and again.

Has our National Anthem become nothing more than a commercial jingle ? Are we respecting it or demeaning it ? Why would i want to listen to my National Anthem as a forerunner to watching a acompany name ? How could the company do it ? How could so many Indian National stand in mute silence when this was approved. It hurts me, and it frustrates me that i cant do anything about it.

Think about it, what further disrespect could you show to your National Anthem - Has it been leased to a company ? Isnt it above all things commercial? HOW COULD YOU???? THis is what kept on rining in my ears. A billion people - eating, sleeping, half sleeping, feet over each other, pointing at the TV, half reading magazines - in all tasks possible, in all positions imaginable would have heard the national anthem promoting a company. Hwo could a national anthem be commericalized?

I dont demand apologies. I do not want uprising of people against this. I only want all of us to understand that is more than just a fad to be patriotic, to have respect and to love your country. It is more than pinning little paper flags on our shirts. After all, there are amongst us, some who would want to get the paper flag without the bill, to save tax.

I stand here, in staunch unacceptance of the advertisement and the company that it promoted. I stand here, head held high, eyes down in respect, on the side of my country.

My Country. I Care.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Sun beating down mercilessly outside, making even the interiors of our room glowing with bright yellow light...

The fan going around itself, in its humming fight to keep the send heated air all around the room....

Kishore kumar smiling at me from the speakers - "mere dil mein aaj kya hein - too kahen to mein bata doon....

I can't but smile at myself as my eyes close me into a lazy nap...

Mere dil mein aaj kya hein....