Remember...

I didn't think I'd be up that early on a Saturday morning! Especially after having had a long, hard week…

Not only was I up at 630, I didn't realize how eager I was until the Zoom video conference call said I had to wait for the host, when I logged in a minute before 730!

Within minutes, I  was connected with 6 other people from different cities and at least 20 others who had gathered in my hometown of Chennai (the erstwhile Madras).

It's the 25th Anniversary of the Electronics and Communication Engineering Class of 1994 from Sri Venkateswara College of Engineering. Fondly, SVCE…

To put it down to good memory would be putting it lightly, because I not only remember the shirt and trousers I wore to the selection interview (in 1990), I even remember how accomplished I felt when I was granted admission (though it involved a sizeable capitation fee).

I remember my first day (I even wrote about it - https://lakshminarayanb.blogspot.com/2014/08/rag.html), the first classroom (at our first campus), my first friend and the first time I was selected to represent the college at an inter-collegiate cultural festival (which led to the first of several trips, tours, as we called them).

I remember the morning prayer, the long, fearful walks to the labs, the khaki uniforms we had to wear for Workshop and the drafters we used to wield for Engineering Drawing.

I remember how puny I was but could still out-eat all of my friends, at the college canteen,  the Dhaba on the street or at Motel Highway, the only restaurant as far as the eye could see!

I remember the day I was selected for the College cricket team!

I remember the rainy day a bunch of us left College early to watch MichaelMadanaKamaRajan (my all-time favorite movie). I remember our favorite places (all over the city) to hang out and eat.

I remember the new campus! I remember the new routines. Water cooler talks, coffee at the canteen, crossword puzzles in the classroom, hand-tennis at the OAT and table tennis till the college buses threatened to leave.

I remember the College Temple and the exam-day superstitions! Long-sleeve shirts, the walk to the front of the exam hall for a cup of water (knowing I had read all the questions and feeling relieved), spending an hour to answer the Unit 1 question (the only one I prepared for well), and using the full 3 hours (even if what I wrote under Units 4 and 5 were impossible to read).

I remember how clueless I was at Viva Voce! After all I spent more nights practicing charades, or as we liked to call it "Dumb-C". I remember our picture in the papers the morning after we won the most prestigious competition in the city…

I could write a book about it, but that we were on the video conference call this morning (special thanks Muralidhar Singh and Madhavan V for putting it all together) a little over 4 hours says the story.

It seems no wonder that it's my all-time favorite English song, but if I had to paraphrase Bryan Adams' Summer of 69…

Oh, when I look back now

Those 4 years seemed to last forever

And if I had the choice

Yeah, I'd always wanna be there…

Those were the best days of my life!

Food...

"If I'd worn my fitbit I would've got a week's worth of steps today!," I thought. It was a long walk from Gate A20 at the West end of the Philadelphia International Airport to Gate C22.

It was my mistake!

Not only had I booked an 8:45 PM flight thinking it was AM, I also didn't realize it until after 9 PM last night when I saw the notification on my phone that my flight was ready for check in.

Although I called the travel agency right away to try and get me on an earlier flight, the best they could do was put me on standby for the 8:05 AM (for which I had to pay $75).

I immediately called Rapid Rover (the airport shuttle service) and altered my reservation so they would pick me up between 530 and 545 AM this morning (vs the 615 to 630 AM originally planned for the 845AM flight I thought I was to be on)!

Luckily, I had packed last night, so even though I awoke only at 4:55 (my target was 4:30), I was able to quickly shower, get ready and even make myself a cup of tea (to go) before the driver knocked my door.

I have never seen a longer line for security check as I witnessed this morning, but luckily (again), TSA not only opened up an extra lane and diverted a few passengers directly to it, they also did not require passengers to take their shoes off or take out the laptops from their bags!

"Should we get something to eat?," my boss asked.

So we left Gate B15 (where the 8:05 was scheduled to leave from) and checked one restaurant after the other back up the ramp in Terminal B to see if we could get something quick and dirty, but quickly understanding that most of them were sit in restaurants and none of them seemed quick, we decided to retrace our steps all the way to the end of the ramp where the Philadelphia International Airport's new Marketplace and Food Court were located.

"Should we do Starbucks?", my boss asked again, but one look at the line suggested we shouldn't so we settled on Subway and deciding to go healthy, I got myself a 6-inch sandwich on Italian-Herb bread with pepper-jack cheese, spinach, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, black pepper and oregano!

After stuffing our sandwiches in our bags, we started the trek back down the Terminal B ramp to B15, where my boss and another colleague boarded the 8:05 Amercian Airlines flight to Orlando, while I stood-by to see if I continued to be lucky enough, this time to get a seat on that flight.

The process was painless!

Once they had boarded all the passengers (Group 1 to Group 9), the Gate Attendants went on to board some crew members who were willing to take any open jump seats (likely to get home after long schedules on the road) and then let those on stand-by know that the flight was now full and closed and that they would automatically roll us over to the next flight which was at 1035 AM.

They only needed us to wait a few minutes to complete the process and then they could tell us which gate that flight was scheduled to leave from. That's when I ate my breakfast sandwich.

The trek from Gate B15 to Gate B8 wasn't so bad but the cold air that blew from the air conditioning vents no matter which part of the waiting area I sat in (I changed 5 seats including one on the floor) ensured that my brief stop at the men's room on my way over wasn't enough!

On my return from my second visit to the rest room, I decided to just stand, and right in front of the counter too, hoping that at least one at the Gate Attendants would recognize my face from the stand-by list for the 8:05 at Gate B15 and slip me a boarding pass in a pang of sympathy.

It was not to be and after standing on stand-by as Groups 1 through 9 boarded the 1035 AM American Airlines flight to Orlando, I was told again that all stand-by passengers had been automatically rolled over to the next flight, scheduled to leave at 1:34 PM, from Gate A20!

I decided it was time for a cup of coffee and since Starbucks wasn't on the way from B8 to A20, I settled for a small coffee with milk and sugar at Dunkin Donuts, but couldn't resist myself from adding 6 munchkins to the order (3 old-fashioned glazed and 3 old-fashioned chocolate) when the barista asked if that was all for today.

Luckily, Gate A20 was not only practically empty, there weren't any air-conditioning vents blowing cold air either and with an open view of flights taking off, I parked myself in a seat alongside the glass window and dove into my munchkins right away. That the coffee seemed bitter after 6 didn't bother me.

The wait was longer this time but the story (and its end) quite the same! This is when I was automatically rolled over to the stand-by list for the 3:45 PM flight out of Gate C22.

"I'll get a proper, sit-down lunch," I thought, a bowl of fettucine pasta in alfredo sauce with a hint of pesto topped with sauted mushrooms & slivers of roasted garlic swirling in my head at the same time, but for some reason, I kept walking past all the restaurants on the way hoping to find one near Gate C22.

When I had walked well past C22, the only sit-down place I could find on that ramp was Chickie's and Pete's and the waitress' first reaction to what was vegetarian on the menu was an expression that suggested "not much", I put my coat back on, picked up my bags and walked back towards C22.

Aldo Lambertini's Trattoria was modest with a seating space that held about 12 x 2 seater tables but the pizza slice with diced tomatoes, ricotta cheese and pesto sauce looked fresh and inviting so I settled into one of the 2-seaters and focused purely on what the knife and fork made of poor plastic could do for the next few minutes, before ambling across to Gate C22.

I had a bone to pick with the Gate Attendant this time!

"I paid to be on stand-by, this is the fourth flight that I have been automatically rolled over to and each time my name drops on the list of passengers on stand-by," I said, to which he responded that all those ahead of me had some sort of status with the airline and that there was little he could do about it.

So this time, I picked a seat in the farthest corner of the waiting area from where I had a clear view of the Gate Attendant's counter and yet, I wasn't in the way of anyone who was boarding the 3:45 PM American Airlines to Orlando or in the way of unruly air-conditioning vents blowing cold air.

Starbucks fell in the path between Gate C22 and Gate A8 where I was next headed (being automatically rolled over to be on stand-by for the 6:15 PM American Airlines flight to Orlando) and I decided to treat myself to a Blueberry Muffin along with my signature Double-Tall Latte!

"If I don't make this flight and am automatically rolled over to my original flight (not of course on stand-by this time because I had a confirmed seat for the 8:45 PM American Airlines flight to Orlando), I can complete my culinary journey with dinner!," I thought.

Although the weather turned bad and the plane had to sit on the tarmac for a couple of hours and be de-iced before it could actually take off, I considered it God's grace when the attendant at Gate A8 called "Ba la sub ra ma"...

They weren't carrying the Fruit and Cheese plate on board tonight, so I had to settle for a glass of water and a Biscoff cookie, but the flight attendant just asked me to shut down my laptop because in a few minutes, we will be landing in Orlando...

Head...

The shampoo was stuck!

There was only a little left and whoever used it last had not placed the bottle lid-facing-down (like I always do) on the shower rack, which meant that the little left was all the way at the bottom.

I turned the bottle upside down and as the thick shampoo slowly made its way down the wall of the 44 Fl oz (130 ml) bottle, I let the hot water from the shower hit the soft spot on my lower right back.

As I watched the shampoo fall, not only was I able to get sufficient warm treatment for my soft spot, I also made a gentle adjustment to let the water relax my shoulders for a while.

When eventually, the shampoo slid past the neck of the bottle into the lid, I leaned my neck back a bit to wet my hair even as I slid my hands over it, from my face to the back.

Convinced that my hair was well wet, I reached out for the shampoo bottle.

Opening the lid with a gentle click on one end of its top, I let a little bit of the shampoo fall on to my left palm and quickly closing the lid with a click at the other end of the top, I returned the bottle to its place on the shower rack, lid facing down.

I wash my hair twice (always), but the first time, I use only very little shampoo.

It doesn't generate a lot of foam but it certainly does something (I don't know what) to prep my hair, for when I quickly wash my hair to drain off the shampoo-ness and apply a second coat, it foams up in a second (pun in-intended)!

Once I apply that second dose of shampoo, I usually let it sit a bit (I don't wash it right away) and I start applying soap on my body (while I carefully maintain the position I've adjusted it to while applying the second dose, so the water doesn't fall in my hair).

I did the same that day!

It would be inappropriate to state the parts I soaped in order, so suffice to say, I arrived at my face (as I always do) once I was soaped toe to neck.

I cleaned my ears first, just the way my dad had taught me as a child, using each of my thumbs to rub hard against the inside of ear on the other side, while my fingers held the ear's back.

Ears done, I spread the soap over my eyes (careful not to let it seep inside), my cheeks, chin, jawbones and on to the back of my ears and neck (just in case I didn't hit it before).

I finally arrived at my forehead (like I always do)!

Massaging my temples, I let my fingers feel the flatness of my forehead and realizing this is the final part I soap before I face the shower to start washing myself, I let my fingers slowly slide upwards to where my skin meets my hairline.

Only that day, my fingers kept moving... a long time!

Even as I involuntarily turned around to face the shower, it hit me how much my hairline had receded, as the water hit my face...

P.S. What a better day to tell this story than the one on which most Indians take a sacred shower after having an elder apply a little oil on their head?

Happy Diwali one and all...

OCD...

It was 12:37 PM!

"Enough time to get a cup of coffee before my next meeting," I thought.

I picked up my phones from my desk and as I started walking towards the elevator (I work on the 11th floor), I opened the Starbucks App on both my phones, checked to make sure that both had refreshed to the same messages / look-and-feel on the feed (a little quirk that some may call OCD)!

I hit "Pay" on both phones, smiled when I noted the balance, hit order on both phones and when the Starbucks App on my Comcast provided mobile phone did not locate the Starbucks in Comcast Center as the closest location to order from, I completed my order of a Tall Latte with 2 Shots (aka Double Tall Latte), with a few clicks of my right thumb on my personal mobile phone.

I was pleasantly surprised to see no customers (forget no line) when I arrived at the Starbucks store (in the lobby) and even happier when within a minute of arriving, the barista said, "Bala, your Double Tall Latte." It gave me sufficient time to get back to my desk, pick up my computer and walk over to one of our VPs' offices for my 1 PM meeting.

I should've probably expected it, given it was lunch hour and not many people would choose to get coffee at that time (especially if they had already had 3 cups since 5 AM)!

Most importantly, it gave me that extra moment to make sure the Starbucks logo on the brown sleeve aligned with the Starbucks logo on the white cup, after I had added to my hot drink, 1 packet of raw sugar and stirred it well with 2 wooden stirrers.

Trust me, it's not even my worst OCD!

I think that started with Numerology...

Even as my mother suggested I spell my name Lakshminarayan (and not the more common Lakshminarayanan), it occurred to me that numbers would play an important role in my life.

10 (my birth date) was lucky and so were 1 (the sum of the digits of my birth date) and for some reason, also 7 and 9.

It was when we started winning competitions every time my partner on the college Dumb Charades team picked a number (to decide the order in which we would take the stage), that that "5" became my luckiest number!

Now, lucky numbers are one thing but when you start adding up the digits of the time in hours and minutes to ensure you send an email (especially important ones) only when it adds up to 1, 5, 7 or 9, YOU NEED HELP.

Even shrinks would give up on me if they hear my restaurant routine!

For, every time I receive the check, I do the math in my head to make sure the tip (10 to 15% usually), adds up to make the total amount a perfect dollar figure (no cents please). If the dollar number ends in 5 or 0, it's sheer ecstasy...

As I started my walk back to the elevator after I got a new lid from the barista (the original one had fallen in the trash as I removed it to add the raw sugar), I pulled out my phone (only one this time as my right hand held my coffee), opened the Starbucks App and hit "Pay".

One of the reasons I love the Starbucks App experience is how quickly they refresh the data, and it gave me immense joy to note that, the balance, which was now showing $0.00, had been $4.27 (the exact price of a Tall Latte with 2 shots) before I ordered the coffee.

Tell me please, should I be worried?


P.S. I'm posting this at exactly 11.50!

Thank...

I thank my friend and end the call.

All I find to lean on is the wooden pole of an electric post. Tucking my water bottle under my right arm pit, I lean my right hand against it and use my left to stretch the quadriceps on my right leg.

I pull out the water bottle with my left hand and decide to hold it there as I lean again on the post, this time using my right hand to stretch my left quads.

I set the music option in MapMyRun to "All Music". Quickly checking to make sure the mode is set to "Shuffle"before I "X" out (back) to the home screen, I click "Start Workout"...

I don't seem to remember when the phone and water bottle exchanged hands for the phone to go into my left trouser pocket, but I swiftly switch the water bottle from my right back to the left, soon as I sight the first car. I raise my right hand, index finger up...

I run on the road!

Even where there is a paved sidewalk, I prefer the blacktop to the hard concrete and going east on Marne Highway (from Larchmont to Creek) on the first leg of my 3-mile course, there is none, so not only do I run facing the traffic (something I learnt at school), every time a vehicle passes by, I raise my hand to it...

"It's not easy to miss me in my black shorts and bright red shirt", I think to myself (though I should've worn a lighter one given its warm). I immediately see a Red Jeep with black tires and metal frames approach me and pass by (to which I raise my hand again). I smile...

I usually raise my hand only when the shoulder is narrow (or none). If the shoulder is wide enough, (usually when the the driving lanes themselves are wide), I play it by ear.

When I notice a bus as I approach Marne and Masonville, I'm taken by surprise. Not only is this the first time I've seen a bus running this course, it just pulled up at its stop in front of Dunkin Donuts, which means the bus is on the shoulder...

I raise my hand again as she (the driver is a lady) pulls back out on to the street just as I get closer, my water bottle doing the swift switch back and forth between my hands again.

Not that I need a water bottle for a 3 mile run (in fact I prefer to run with my hands free)!

I just picked one up as I walked out of home and like Eric Orton (Christopher McDougall's coach in Born to Run) says, "it's good practice for when you need one"...

I pass Masonville!

It means that I'm now committed to the 3-mile run (unless I choose to to take a left on Fleetwood Ave once I've turned left on Creek).

I raise my hand again, this time to a group of cyclists, riding the shoulder towards me. It's the right thing to do after I notice one of them (gesturing with his right hand) indicating to the rest of the group to shift a little to their left to make way for me...

I'm not fast either (my usual pace is between 12 and 13 minutes a mile), but once I crest the little hill at Mama's Pizzeria, I settle into a comfortable pace to complete my first mile in 12:32.

I turn left on Creek!

Creek is one long hill (like my colleague Ken Anderson likes to say) and as I start the climb, I feel the stiffness in my right leg and lower right back (I should continue the physical therapy). So I decide to conserve my energy as I tread the hill so I can settle back into a rhythm going down...

I see a Red and Black Jeep pass me (from behind this time) and I wonder if it's the same one I saw going the other way on Marne. I continue my climb up the hill, faithfully raising my right hand and index finger to every passing car, and my full outstretched palm to those that choose to veer left and stay close to the median. It helps, especially in those parts, where the shoulder reduces to none.

I turn my head left at Fleetwood Avenue!

I even raise my left hand to the car approaching the turn (from Fleetwood) as I catch a glimpse of the green outfield at Fleetwood Elementary School, but I raise my right again as I step on to the shoulder on Creek (past the Fleetwood crossing), fully committing myself to the 3 miles this time...

I see a dead rat!

I step on to the grass this time (to go around him), given there's hardly a shoulder at that point and that what's approaching fast is a 4x4 truck. I raise my hand anyway...

Mile 2 is slower (Time: 25:20)!

As I straighten my back and look up to step up my pace, I notice the Red and Black Jeep again, but it's the red Volkswagen Jetta that I raise my hand to (as I turn left on Masonville), that has stopped for me before turning right (on Creek)...

I approach the Buis' residence!

All 4 of them run and I wonder if they see me every time I stumble by and what they must think of my languid pace but my attention is quickly diverted to an approaching U-Haul truck, that (don't know why) instinctively makes me take to the grass. I quickly step off it and back on to the shoulder realizing it's their lawn. I raise my hand to the Nissan Altima and Rogue in tow.

I usually cross over to the other side of Masonville, closer to my turn on Larchmont, but I even as I pass the other end of Fleetwood, I turn around to see if there are cars headed my way toward Marne. I trot over to the other side...

I raise my hand again (the left this time) and keep it raised till I approach the turn at Larchmont, to signal to the cars I hear behind me!

I raise my right again to the kind lady, who among a stream of cars turning left on Masonville from Larchmont, chooses to let me pass, back to the shoulder and my safe side (facing the traffic)...

It's the homestretch, but I still feel the stiffness in my right leg so I stick to my slow pace. The shoulder is wider here (and so is the driving lane) but I also stick to raising my hand to every passing car, as Larchmont bends left and quickly right again.

My son ran with me once!

A couple of miles on a Spring afternoon up Elm Street in Concord, MA.

"Why do you keep raising your hand every time a car passes by dad?", he asked me.

"To thank them for not killing me", I said.

We both laughed! And kept running...

As I finish mile 3 at 38:12, I can't help but remember that I wore black pants and a red shirt that day in Concord too! I smile again...

After I hit the button for the Walk Sign at Larchmont and Marne, I raise my hand one last time, to the cars lined up at the light, before beginning my walk back home...

Bus...

I saw her late!

I had turned left on to Marne Highway and was cruising west at over 50 mph, when I really noticed. That down the road, to our right (my son was with me), at the edge of the shoulder, was a woman.

Not that she was easy to notice!

She was short and seemed to be standing right where the 2 large fields seemed to converge. Especially with the grass being really tall, it was hard to notice her till we got really close.

The only thing I noticed as we passed her was that she wore a pair of white earphones. Why she was standing at that exact spot, not that I could not fathom, but I really didn't think about it.

I didn't give her another thought either!

We went on to pick up Ganesh from his home in Moorestown (the next town), turned back around and headed to the YMCA. Where I dropped off the boys and then turned home bound.

It was as I passed Hartford going east on Marne that I saw her again!

Not only was she to my left this time, the way the road angled ahead, she was in my direct view.

That's when it also struck me why she was standing there!

She was waiting for the bus.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?", I asked myself! "Are buses plying this route that infrequent?"

My mind was transported in a moment to another place, another age!

I smiled to myself and it only became bigger, even as my car went up the hill, I noticed a bus, bound for Camden, just leaving the light at Larchmont, headed down her way.

I thought of the other place as I passed it!

"Madras", we used to call it.

I thought of long waits at a bus stop!

I'm not sure why, an image of the one in front of Valluvar Kottam flashed before my eyes.

Everyone did it!

"I waited for an hour today", they would say.

While '37' had a higher frequency, legendary was the wait for '25', bound to Triplicane.

I came up to the right turn at Larchmont!

I turned further right at Narbeth and eased to the left on to Normandy.

"There was no telling when the next bus would arrive!"

"There was no app for that", I thought as I pulled in to my driveway.

"Only the rectangular bus shelter, with its neat little squares that housed the bus routes."

"The endless sunshine and several other people waiting for theirs"...

Imagine...

"Hey! How's it goin'?" he asked.

"I'm good," I said, "How about yourself?"

"Just tired," he responded.

"I can imagine," I said!

It's a phrase I learnt during my call center days. An expression call center employees were trained to use when a customer expressed a problem or concern.

"It's natural to say - I understand," the trainer explained.

"But imagine a situation! A customer is trying to complete the purchase of his new home by a certain date. He would like to move in before the new school year starts for his children, but his home loan is not approved though he was promised approval by that date and has submitted all the documents he was asked to."

"In that situation, if you said, "I understand", the customer would say, "No, You don't understand!"

"Which is why a better way to respond is to say, "Dear Mr. Customer, I can imagine how that creates a problem for you..." and then provide the reasons for the delay, or better still, an alternate solution."

It struck a chord right away! And has stayed with me for over 15 years.

Which is why, as I got ready to stretch my hamstrings and quadriceps at my 7 PM physical therapy appointment (the last one for the day), I could imagine why Warren (one of the therapists) felt tired...