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...

Spring...

I leave the office!

5:20 on Friday evening and and I feel like I got some work done.

I pause a moment in the lobby.

I need cash and I have a decision to make.

I can either go down to the food court, get cash from the No-name ATM and pay a transaction fee or I can walk 3 blocks left in the wind to my own bank.

I tuck my scarf into my coat so it covers my neck.

I wish I can put my hands in my coat pockets too, but I'm carrying this huge binder from the training program I attended that morning in one hand and leftovers from the Thai food I had for lunch in the other.

Luckily, a homeless man curled up on the sidewalk, graciously accepts the leftovers.

I wonder why the ATM area at the bank is filled with policemen!

I find it funny that every single one of them is busy looking at his phone.

It's a 6-block walk back to my parking garage.

I transfer the binder to my right hand so my left can have some respite.

The attendant at the parking garage is happy with the 20.

Still, there's a long line of cars on the street and to turn right, I'm at their mercy.

The Parkway looks rather empty!

I make a couple of phone calls even as I weave through Race Street.

I chance upon the sky as I approach the Ben Franklin bridge.

I'm surprised, it's almost 6 pm and there's still light!

It makes me smile...

Soon, it'll be Spring.

Prodigy...

"And you're talking to the  Product Head!," he said, after he had just finished demonstrating the '5 Paisa' App to me, his elder cousin of 15 years, whom he was probably meeting after 5. He didn't try to hide his pride.

Santosh Jayaram was always the prodigy of the family. Innately gifted, he picked up the art of classical Indian dance at a very tender age by just accompanying his sister to her weekly dance lessons.

His true calling (I thought) though, was music! His voice could melt hearts and just when one thought that he would soon challenge the Jambavans of Indian classical vocal music, he chose the Veena as his instrument of musical expression.

Years of relentless practice (accompanied by his mother, my aunt's, incessant nagging) saw him grow from performances at family do's to concert halls and stages across the big cities of India, as part of his fusion band 'Agyna' and accompanying stalwarts and legends of world music.

"Music could be his career. Life!", I said, when my aunt worried (as she does for everything) about where he would be placed as part of  campus recruitment at Narsee Monjee Institute of Management Studies, Mumbai, where he was just about to complete his dual degree in Engineering and Business.

I encouraged her to get comfortable with the fact that he may have no real job and even asked her to get ready to travel with him as he went from one world stage to another. In my own mind, I had built him up to be the one, not to take the beaten path in a family full of Engineers!

Not only was I able to quickly relate to the app, but also provide one little point of view, because (as I explained to him), I am myself in the middle of the process of leading a change in the mobile app experience of the Home Security / Connected Home brand that I work for.

"How is Agnya?" I asked, as our conversation continued. I wasn't sure what the expression on his face meant, but he quickly clarified it saying he'd hardly found time for anything other than work in a while, leave alone music.

Watching him pore over his emails (from his ipad) over the next few minutes, in that hotel room, while on vacation to attend another cousin's wedding, made me wonder where I had gone wrong!

All this while I had thought that his software job was only a means to make his ends meet and waited for the day he would announce that he was quitting his software career to pursue music full time.

And here he was, having embraced 'FinTech' (an expression he used to describe his line of work) whole-heartedly and at all of 28, carrying the responsibility of a Rs. 100 crore backed wealth & investment management product on his young and able shoulders.

The music's still there! He let me savor a few aalapanas, once as we were seated right next to the Nagaswaram troupe at the cousin's wedding and once as the radio played during a car ride. 

The prodigiousness just seems to be being put to use elsewhere for now...

Short...

Should I write?

Should I sleep?

Or should I just hang in here and wait for the presentation that poor Jonathan has been working on all day long and expects to send me in the next 20 minutes?

Quick time check on the top right 'whatever they call it' bar of my macbook, shows it's 4:36 PM EST! The map on airborne.gogoinflight.com shows we're flying right over Kansas City (I wanna say, CST) and 2Hr 19 Min of flight time remaining....

But the "1" that just appeared in a little red circle (accompanied by a little white envelope) over the golden yellow "O" (for Outlook) on the status bar (I think I got this one right) at the bottom of my macbook made me check if it was Jonathan's email and a quick review of the presentation and my notes back to him have ensured that even if I go on, how much more I can write is limited not only by my laptop's battery (now at only 25%), but also by more 1s in little red circles that keep appearing from time to time...

One thing's clear, I can put off sleep for a bit, because 21% on my macbook doesn't count for a lot!

Which is also what I'm counting on, what with nature calling...

Not that I can go right away even if I wanted to with the refreshment cart in the way!

So I'll just sit tight, sip my coffee and wait it out...

Jonathan's fast, he just sent me the presentation updated with my notes!

But checking that and responding to him have ensured my battery's almost run out...

So I'm going to publish this without further ado!

For even if this is a short post, it's been a while since I wrote...

School...

It's been a while (not just since my last post)!

25 years, actually...


Only the other day, RV (short for R Venkatraghavan) reached out to members of the facebook group titled PSBB (Class of) 1990:

"Did you all realise this is the 25th year since we left PSBB? In recent years I have heard from PSBB alumni (current PSBB parents) of other batches that they organised their 20th or 25th reunion at PSBB. Maybe we should plan on a reunion at PSBB sometime around Mar-June 2015?
RV"

However, Hamsini (elder twin of Harshini, both daughters of my mom's younger sister), had reached out to me even earlier, albeit on a different note:

"One small request., whenever you find time, can you please write about how much chennai and Psbb mean to you? I've always wanted to read your version about them..."

Needless to say Hamsini and Harshini both go to PSBB! So did their brother Harissh. My son went there too and would have stayed if I hadn't moved to the US, but we'll save that story.

What I will tell, as we sit here on the cusp of a New Year, one that will mark the Silver Jubilee of my graduation from PSBB, is the one story that has stayed and comes first to my mind when I think of what PSBB means to me...


I love the school's Anniversary Program! A 3-day event that happens sometime Jul/Aug, it's the quintessential showcase of the not just the students' talent, but the ability of the teachers, the support staff, the management and the parents to all come together and deliver an event of great, grand scale...

The theme for the program is chosen months in advance and right from the time school opens for a new academic year in early June, staff coordinators are allocated for specific routines, students (spanning 3 branches and all grade levels) are chosen for the various parts to be played and rehearsals are held after school hours every single day leading up to the event...

Every single parent gets a printed invitation with the details of the program, children are brought in early to school on the days of the event for make up and other preparation and then bussed to the venue, which is usually one of the large prestigious auditoriums in the city...

Every routine includes elaborate sets and the right elements of music, lighting, props, computer graphics and even special effects. Students, teachers, parents and even celebrities make up the audience. A show grander than this is legion only in the world of Indian Cinema...


Even though I had the fortune of enjoying this event for 14 years in a row, plus one (when I went back as an alumnus to receive an award), it's one little thing from the year 2006 (when my son was in Lower Kindergarten - LKG), that stays top of mind...

The theme that year was "Dhanam" meaning charity, sacrifice or simply "To Give"! One of the routines was the story of Lord Vishnu's Vamana Avatar. The essence of the story is how the Lord taught a powerful but vain king a lesson on humility. "To Give without pride or ego"...

The Lord appears as a puny peasant begging for alms at a ritual the king is performing with pomp and show. When urged by the king to ask for anything at all that he may want, he asks for just 3 paces of land as measured by his tiny feet...

The king, consumed by his arrogance is amused by the peasant's ask but grants him his boon anyway. The Lord, who then assumes his true form, in his first step, measures up the entire earth and his second, the heavens and the entire cosmos...

When time comes to take the third step, the Lord asks the king where he might place his foot, then the king realizes his mistake, bows in humility to the Lord and offers his very head for the Lord to place his foot on...


This routine was being performed by 7th and 8th grade students. The character of the puny peasant though was played by a kindergartener. The moment that took my breath away was the point in the play when the Lord assumes his true form...

At the cue of the mighty king laughing in arrogance to the peasant's ask, the lights went out for a matter of a few seconds and when they came back on, the stage was filled with kindergarten students playing the king and his retinue and an overgrown high school kid playing Lord Vishnu!

And as the Lord placed his foot on the king's head, the music reached a crescendo...


Thank you for your request Hamsini! And I'll do my best to be at the 25 Year Renuion RV...

Whether it's 2015 or the end of time, I'll always remember PSBB as the place that taught me what BIG IDEAS are all about...


Happy New Year Everyone! Have a Healthy and Peaceful 2015...

Rag...

"Don't wear stripes", they said!

"Or checks! They'll make you count them. No long sleeves, no bright colors either, don't tuck in your shirt, wear simple pants, no jeans, don't wear shoes, only slippers and don't even think about snazzy sneakers."

I don't remember who said it, but it pretty much made up the playbook for 'How not to become an obvious target for ragging'. What they didn't tell me was that I was going to get ragged anyway, just not on these!

I had also heard other stories. From fun - like making a bunch of freshers go dancing around the college bus saying, "Aiya! Bus vandhachu (Oh what fun! The bus is here), to fatal - enough said.

"It's all in good spirit", they'd also said. "Ragging is how you build a relationship with your seniors because eventually they will give you their books, advice and who knows, even career opportunities."

But I wasn't exactly the bravest of men (read: "I was s#!+ scared")! So, it was with mixed feelings (more like sense of terror) that I looked forward to College.

I decided to prepare! But a look at my wardrobe only made my heart sink further. Not that I had any bright colored shirts (not with my skin color), but I seemed to have a penchant for long sleeves, stripes & checks.

My options really reduced to a white, polo style t-shirt I used for cricket or the white short-sleeved shirt from my school uniform! And given a bright red manufacturer's logo on the t-shirt that alluded to a famous cricketer (Sunny), I decided it was better to go with the school shirt, even if it meant that I would have to painstakingly un-sew the school monogram that was stitched on to its pocket. Even if I had outgrown it.

With plain black trousers and sandals (from Bata) to match, I felt ready when the day arrived. I was careful not to wear a watch and to smear my forehead with sacred ash and vermilion. I prayed every minute.

So much for all the hard work, I don't even remember how the first day went! I tend to think it was mostly uneventful, because sooner than I knew it, I was walking down the long pathway leading to the bus stop.

I was almost there, when, "What mighty arms?", I heard a voice say. Certain that the reference was not to me (but fearful that it might be), I scurried to fulfill those few steps that would get me to safety. But the "Hey You!", that followed told me that it was indeed being made to me, much to my horror and despite my frailty.

"What is your name?", was the first question, followed by "Which school did you go to?" and "Where are you from?" They got to the point (there were 2 seniors) once I had answered them satisfactorily.

"Why are you wearing such a tight shirt?", one of them asked me. "I was told to look simple and I couldn't find anything else", I muttered, still in fear. "You don't have to be afraid, but don't wear this anymore", said the other. "There's a bus due in 2 minutes, so come along. Let's get to know you better on the way home", said the first, even as he threw his arms over my shoulder.

I stayed scared for the best part of my first year at Sri Venkateswara College of Engineering, but the only ragging I really remember being subject to was having to run around the college cricket field on a hot afternoon with a twig in my right hand, held high to signify the Olympic torch.

But all day on Sunday, 10 Aug 14, I've only remembered little things from those 4 memorable years I spent there.

For, it all began, 24 years ago, today...

Walk...

It's 930 AM! I woke up at 5 (4:48 to be exact)...

All those early morning conference calls have made sure that my earplugs haven't left my ears since I located them on my work desk using the flashlight on my iPhone. I can almost hear the relief...

I Alt-tab to my Outlook Calendar! I see more relief. In the form of a 90 minute space before my next meeting. The only decision I need to take is what to do with it...

It's been a long week! With discussions, deliverables, project plans and presentations. I could use the time to prepare for my meeting at Noon (I already posted my update for the 11 AM). But I decide to step away...

Working from home is a blessing! I walk down the stairs, into the kitchen and stare into the refrigerator for a few aimless moments. I realize the peril of filling the space with a snack and walk away...

I step out the door! Just to check how it feels. "It's a fine Friday", I tell myself, "balmy at best". I look up into the bright sky, but I can't see the sun...

I see my flip flops! I slide into them. I quickly check my trouser pockets to see if I have my iPhone and start ambling. Wow! I even have my earplugs, so I find some music to play...

I could have run but I walk! Maybe my sore knee made me choose the flip flops. It's not even leisurely, by no means brisk, it's a deliberate slow trot...

The streets are quiet as I tread along the sidewalk. A cyclist sneaks up on me, pedaling hard as she takes to the grass to pass me. I'm not really rattled but I couldn't have really heard her with the music in my ears...

I walk into a development. It's even quieter! The lone face I see is that of the postman stuffing the mail into the individual residents' boxes...

I check my email (I can't stay quiet). "Nothing that can't wait", I decide, as I move along. More emails arrive, and a meeting maker too! But I have to decline as it causes a 11 AM conflict...

I check the time! I've got some on hand. So I enter another development and walk on. The charge left on my iPhone battery is what I really need to be conscious of...

"Should I turn back now?", I ask myself. I check the time again. My gut tells me that I can still walk the entire length of the development before I turn back and I would still be on time...

I decide to save the battery from failing instead! I close out all the open apps on my iPhone (leaving only the music on), lock the phone and put it back in my pocket...

I see the birds! They move and slowly converge in the middle of the street. It's unusual. I've seen geese only near the little ponds, sometimes near the park...

I stop in my tracks. They're birds of prey! I tread with care, staying on the edge of the sidewalk till I've steered clear of them. They're too busy pecking at that dead rodent to notice anyway...

I hit the homestretch. I'm coming up on the hour! But I don't step up the pace. I trundle on. I still see no faces. I can even hear myself breathing...

I pass our own mailbox! I'll be at the door any moment. I check the time again...

"Not many can do this", I think to myself! I look up into sky.  I stop the music. And log in to the conference call...

Miss...

She must have been a "Miss"!

Well, her name was Karuppayi (that's female for sure)! And she didn't seem to have a significant other. So Miss Karuppayi, we shall say...

I don't remember how and when we got introduced but I obviously know where! She was the pet of the watchman and the maid (Mr. and Mrs.) at Greenpeace Maplewoods (apartments) on Lakshmanasamy Salai in KK. Nagar (that's Chennnai, India)...

I also don't know how it happened, but I know for sure that she was one of the most beautiful things that's ever happened to me!

She would stir (even from her slumber) at my very sight (or was it smell)! As soon as she me saw walk out the elevator or down the stairs, she would arise and come up to me...

It didn't matter whether I said something or even looked at her! She always knew that there was only one thing she was going to do. Follow me…

If I was walking out the door, she would walk along! Whether I stayed on the same side of the street or crossed over. And no matter where I stopped, whom I talked to or what I did, she would hang around. For she knew what was coming…

As soon she saw me turn around towards her, her tail would wag furiously and her tongue would be outstretched! And as soon as I stretched my hand out, she would grab from it whatever it held (a bun, a biscuit or a "porai") and instantly head back home…

She knew I worked nights! And she knew the sound of my car as it pulled up. I'm sure she knew that I was the only one to arrive in the wee hours of the morning...

And then she did the most amazing thing one could ever conceive!

As soon as she saw me park my car in my reserved space, she would walk up to the space between the stairs and the elevator!  And as soon as she saw me close the doors of the elevator (someone obviously trained her not to get in to the elevator), she would start running up the stairs furiously…

She always got to the third floor ahead of me! And her eyes would light up when she saw me emerge from the elevator. Because she knew what was going to happen next…

I would ring the bell! And someone would come to get the door. But even as they pushed it open, even before I could enter, she would squeeze her way into the drawing room of my home…

She wouldn't go any further, she would sit just right there! And not move till I brought out her treat, opened the door again to let her out and place it on a ledge in the foyer…

It wouldn't be over yet! Sometimes, she'd eat what I left on the ledge and sometimes she wouldn't. But soon, I would hear her nails scraping my front door…

I went to the door but was never surprised by what I saw! She would look at me, I'm never sure what she said but I knew that she wanted to be let back in…

Most times I would be just tired, but sometimes, I would just open the door and let her back in! And she'd do nothing but just sit there, even as I sat on my recliner and watched some TV…

Everyone knew about us! They talked about us and even wondered. What was it that she saw in me that she did those things she did with me but with no other person in that entire building. With no other person, period.

I never wondered! I just enjoyed it…


And then one day I left! The Land of Opportunity (America) was calling and I had dreams to fulfill…

She must've thought I went to work or something! She must've waited for me to come back. I'm sure she hung around the parking lot, the elevator and the foyer space. And scratched the door of my home till the wood wore out...

For 3 years, I never went back! And when I did, I was told she left (so had the watchman and the maid). And I never gave her another thought…

Until last Friday night!

In my dream (in the wee hours of the morning), I went looking for her! I roamed through the streets, one after another. I saw a million black dogs, they all looked similar…

But even as I walked to end of that last street (I don't know why I know it but I do), I heard a distinct bark! I turned around and I saw her. "It's me, Thayi", it sounded like she was saying (I remember the words distinctly)…


"She must've missed me", I told myself, as I woke up to a Saturday morning!

"I Miss you too Karuppayi", I think, as I write this on Monday afternoon…

Line...

"How long would you wait in line for a cup of coffee?", I asked my son.

"Why are you asking me? I don't even drink coffee", he said.

"I know you don't drink coffee, but see that line there", I said, "do me a favor, can you quickly count and tell me how many people are in that line?"

"Really Dad! Don't you have anything better to do?", he said.

"Come on, be a sport, just count and tell me how many people are in that line", I urged.

"... 21, 22, 23, 24!", he said, "24 people to be exact".

"OK, one's just joining the line now, so let's call it 25", I said.

"Now think about it", I continued, "let's say it takes 1 minute to service every customer, so it would take 25 minutes (or 24) for the last customer in line to get to the counter and then they probably have to wait another 5 minutes for their drink, probably more, given that they have so many drinks to churn out"...

"So now tell me, would you be willing to wait 30 minutes for a cup of coffee?"

"I don't know", he said, "but probably not".

Clearly, I wasn't willing to wait that long either which was probably why I was not in that line myself at the Starbucks store in the Walter E Washington Convention Center in D.C. (where the International Science and Engineering Fest was being held) but was sitting on the sidelines, thanks to the sofas I had spotted from the far corner of the lobby.

"Let's put my theory to test", I said. "You see those last customers in the line? The guy in the black t-shirt and the girl in the skirt?"

"Yes, I do", he said.

"I'm going actually to time how long it takes them to get to the counter", I said.

"OK", he said, 'go for it!"

A few minutes later, I found out that I was clearly not in line with the times.

"Where is your phone?", he suddenly said, having paused playing whatever game it was on his iPod. "Why are you not timing it?" he added, noting that my iPhone was lying next to me on the sofa but was not running its Timer App!

I looked at him for a second. "I have a watch (pointing to my wrist) and I have a head", I said.

"OK, OK", he said and went back to playing his game. "Dads these days!", he must have thought to himself.

I spent the next few minutes watching 2 kids playing soccer with a foam ball (they once kicked the ball right into the Starbucks store), 1 lady leave a sofa that was adjacent to us, 2 other ladies join us on the 2 adjacent single seats (as their husbands joined the line at Starbucks) and other pretty ladies join the line for coffee. 

Every few minutes, I checked to see where the girl in the skirt was (conveniently for me, the guy in the black t-shirt had left the line to take a phone call) and then checked my watch. I didn't catch her checking her watch at any point, but as she got real close to the counter (3rd or 4th in line) I did notice her little shake and jig. Maybe she just heard the music from the store clearer from where she was, but I preferred to think of it has her victory dance...

"My hypothesis was right", I blurted out! "It took them exactly 25 minutes to get to the counter" I said.

"Wow Dad!", he said, "this is like the 4th or 5th time you've predicted something right this week" (he was referring to some of the scores I had predicted teams batting first would make in the IPL mid-course in their innings).

Allowing myself only a moment to gloat, I quickly turned my attention back to the line. I was surprised by what I saw.

"It seems like people are willing to wait 30 minutes for a cup of Starbucks coffee", I thought to myself. "But do they know that it could be another 30 minutes before they get their coffee when they join that line?" I further ruminated.

"Is the average wait time the same throughout the day? It's surely not the same at all Starbucks stores but do the smart people at Starbucks know how long their customers wait on an average for their coffee? Better still, do they know how long their customers are willing to wait in line?"

"Ten minutes", I told myself! "That's probably all I am willing to wait in line to get a cup of coffee. So when I see more than 9 people in that line, I'm probably not going to join it" I went on, when my phone rang.

"Where are you", she asked?

"We're in the lobby, near the Starbucks store", I said.

"OK, I'll be there in 5 minutes", she said.

I noticed that the line had become shorter. I got up from the sofa and moved towards the store.

"I'm sorry sir! We're closed for the day" the security guard said, as he closed the loop on the adjustable line guides...

Wednesday...

It's hump day!

Except, when it's a Holiday...

And when both Christmas and the New Year (following) fall on a Wednesday, it's really special!

Picture this...

You wake up on Monday, Dec 23! It's not really snowing but you still make yourself that cup of hot chocolate. The world seems a better place when your first conference call doesn't start until 8 AM...

You join the call to find out that half the participants are out for the entire week! Which means the list of items on the agenda gets trimmed by equal proportion and the decision is unanimous to follow up on the rest when everyone is back from the Holiday...

Right as you are wrapping it up (30 minutes ahead of schedule), a notice pops up in your outlook telling you another meeting is cancelled. You promptly remove that from your calendar and then cancel another meeting yourself looking at the number of attendees who have declined, being OOO...

Suddenly, your calendar looks open! You use the unplanned free time to cancel all the meetings starting Christmas Day until New Year's and mark your calendar purple with All-Day Events for 6 business days, subject and location reading: Out of Office...

A couple of other calls, a few emails and the day is over! You've never felt like this lately. So you enjoy a quiet evening, a light dinner and even though you're tempted to read that open book, you decide to catch up on your sleep...

It's Christmas Eve! There's even fewer people on that 8 AM daily call. It's over even sooner. Soon, you're staring at an empty afternoon. There seems to be more action on the street looking out the window. Emails slow down to a trickle...

A good lunch and you want to walk away but your conscience takes over! You spend the rest of the afternoon answering those emails you meant to answer but didn't and clearing out any pending tasks from your slate (and your conscience)...

The evening drive features some flurries! "Will it be a White Christmas?", you wonder. Confirmation that it won't be comes by the time you reach home with no more flurries is sight, just the still air. You blow out a bellow of cold smoke as you tread the cold, grey concrete...

Christmas comes and goes! It's family, food and fun. The vacation begins. More food and fun. Visits to pretty places and walks in the cold air. More hot chocolate and this time, cake...

Soon, you've had enough! You just want to rest. Breakfast and lunch on the couch with re-runs of favorite movies. Afternoon naps and even more TV. You even find a little time for that book from under the tree...

You relax and revive! Through a Nice New Year's Eve! And all through New Year's Day...

You go back to your calendar! You notice that early AM call, Thursday. "I really don't need to be on that one", you decide and then decline. You look to move some others to Friday or Monday. You really don't want to come back...

Come Thursday AM, you're back on the coffee! Come 8 AM, your spreadsheets are ready. You make a good showing and people seem to notice. You on the other hand, notice something else...

There's still some items on the agenda that have to wait until Monday! There's still some people who aren't back from their vacation. So you move some meetings around, catch up on your emails and are still left with some time to plan for what's ahead...

You're done at 4 PM! Not a bad place to be in. You look at Friday. It's going to be another light day. You block some time on your calendar to work on that monster project plan you're supposed to present at 8 AM, come Monday...

"It's the Wednesday", you realize! "That gave me 2 days ahead, 2 days after and effectively, a 2 week revival"...

You stop by the library. You even get some grocery. Just as you pull up the ramp and merge on to the highway, it begins to snow...


Happy New Year folks! Have a Good One...

Saachin Saachin...

I haven't said anything!

I don't need to, because Harsha Bhogle said it best when he said, "There's not even one dry eye in the commentator's box (which I'm sure was only his sandbox to say the entire Wankhede stadium, or the World at large)!

Not sure why I automatically found myself in front of the TV, when he got out at 74. That's when it started, along with his one last walk back. It's been that way through his farewell speech and reading it again the next day and even several hours after that.

But what moved me most was the email that popped into the mail app on my iPhone even as I sat waiting for a flight I was not even supposed to be on, to board, in the wee hours of Sunday and needless to say, sleepless.

I've never done this before but I would be remiss if I don't do this today. The rest of this story is just the verbatim of that email from Arun, who incidentally is not just among the most avid followers of this blog, but a temendous source of motivation for everything I do.

Thank you da Arun! For everything. What can I say? The wetness still hasn't left my eyes...


Hello da Suri, just tried your cell 2 days back last Thursday. Just called to chat abt our hero retiring. Of course, turned off by the media making hay while the sun shines. But cannot ignore on the personal front,how big a part our man has had to do with our enjoyment of cricket. From our 17 to 17 years from retirement.

Felt like sharing a couple of related personal anecdotes in my life:

1990

Reminding me of the extent of pain that the mind was willing to bear in those days just to have a glimpse of this guy- Right before our 12th Model exams, I had watched an entire ODI innings(Ind vs NZ) standing alone in the middle of the night, starting at 2:30am, with the daunting potential to be mowed down by my parents if they even sniffed something remote. Woke up at 2:30 am without an alarm(of course it had to be that way) and the watching had to be done standing, just to intercept the light from the TV falling on my dad's eyes who was sleeping in the TV room. Every creak from the fan or water hammer in the pipes was met with a suspension of the heart, sensing doomsday. Another weird thing that happened was when I had first woken up, the clock showed exactly 2:30 in the hall, not 2:31 or 2:29, with just this mental alarm. Of course, whether I attributed this to sheer overcoming of infinitesimal odds or to the powers of the human mind under intense wanting, I could certainly not share the excitement with anyone around.

1996

I came to the USA the very first time during the 1996 world cup with 80% of itinerary remaining, through the traditional body-shopping consulting firm route, with exactly $500 in my pocket.

The situation was like No project-No salary. "When will I get a project?" Not sure! Never mind, "Do you know when will I get an interview", "Can't say that either!"- Had 0 interviews in the 1st month. Thanks to Krishna (PSBB), found a West indian bar in Queens that showed these matches. I had to be in Krishna's place in Queens leaving at 3:00 am from Metropark and of course these were the times when I didn't know if NJ was a state or a city OR how exactly was it related to this New York, not to forget this was the pre-internet, cell phone era. Walking in February snow at 3:00 am, alone in the street with an Indian jacket that was a joke, to catch 3 trains raised questions of my sanity among fellow benchmates. The umpteen mugging stories from friends/Krishna himself didn't help my confidence either. There was also the minor matter of each of these sports visits causing a dent of 10% on my bank balance with no visibility of when the next credit would post. I somehow managed to see all the 7 Indian matches with our Man being the sole inspiration and HE, if you remember was a class apart from the rest. He made a string of scores like 70,90,127,137 etc. It was just unbelievable and the sheer resources invested into this, material or otherwise, enhanced the pleasure derived from each of these outings immensely. On top of it I was able to watch these games on a truly international setting with Indians and Pakis rubbing shoulders and the rivalry created an hitherto unexperienced excitement, not to mention that India won against Pak-remember aamir sohail bowled by venkatesh prasad after he went berserk!!!

All these are just a few of the gazillion moments of enjoyment that was caused by our Number 10.

What I have enjoyed the most about him- More than the runs, More than the records, More than the milestones has been HIS posture, the stance, the 100 micro adjustments that would manifest in all parts of his body in 0.21 seconds to make that most picture-perfect straight drive or cover-drive or the flick backward of square, that would take hours for a professional photographer to elicit from his subject, before the camera, never mind before Glenn Mcgrath. This is what I believe that no other guy would be able to give in my lifetime. These were the times when I felt I'd take a 20 from our man compared to an Indian win or 100 from Dravid, no offense to Dravid.

Just in case the abundance of his presence in the past 24 years has devalued the appreciation for what he has provided by just a tad, I am sure it will be only a few more decades, when Time would have rendered us the chosen few who could proudly declare to the younger minds "Yes I have seen the Master bat"

I know only a couple of souls that could resonate in sync with this state of mind.

Hence,

Arun

P.S.

Yet even as the mind solemnly reminisces,staring into darkness under the comforter at night, and regrets the reality that it can witness this no more, after careful deliberation, it realizes that it was indeed a supreme blessing from the Lord in the first place to have even made it possible for us to enjoy this PHENOMENON to this degree,over this much time, in terms of bestowing so many prerequisites - our timing in this world, our nationality, our interests, even one of which if misaligned, would have greatly reduced our thirst and consequently the degree of our enjoyment. OR even after all this, if we still feel it isn't enough, that is probably the precise reason why Shankara said this materialistic enjoyment is an illusion.

Tammy Jo...

I left at 6 AM!

Google maps indicated a 7 hour 52 minute journey, and with a couple of breaks, I was looking at about 9 hours. And if I could do anything to avoid traffic delays (what with construction work on I95), I wanted to do exactly that...

The rain came right behind! It washed the entire 170 mile stretch on I85 N, sometimes gentle to render a misty view, but at other times, fierce to force me to follow a giant truck which served as a guiding path under very low visibility...

I still made good time! I passed the 170 miles in a little less than 3 hours and was on to I95 N, which I would take for the best part of the next 5 hours (save only the 40 mile homestretch on I 295 N) and even as rain slowed down a little, I heard another rumble, this time in my stomach...

I shouldn't have stopped, really! At least not right where the construction work on I95 began, knowing that the traffic can get backed up pretty fast in that stretch. Sure enough, when I got back, it was almost stand-still, cars lined up as far as the eye could see...

I merged with the mess coming in from the ramp and deftly slid over to the left most lane. I don't know why I do that everytime I'm in a jam but it gave me a strange sense of comfort...


First, he was just a photo opportunity (like any dog that puts his head out of the window from the car right ahead of you)!

But soon after I had perfected my skill of shooting some pictures with my iPhone held in landscape mode right on top of the steering wheel, with both hands holding both (wheel and phone), I realized that he was a little more...

Having his head out of the left window in a car that stood on the left most lane afforded him a view of the oncoming traffic (southbound). A little later, he disappeared, only to appear in just a few seconds, this time from the right...

"What's going on?", he must have wondered. He must have noticed that the cars on the left were moving but the cars on the right stood still. For soon, he started going back and forth. A quick look out the left followed by a discerning peek out the right...

And soon I realized I was following him! I was quickly reminded of the analogy of watching a game of tennis from somewhere in the middle of the court and how the head follows the ball as it is struck by either player, left to right and back again. Only this was better...

Surely, he must've felt the rain! Gentle as it was, it was falling for sure, but he didn't seem to mind it. His well-timed curiosity continued and my eyes followed...


And then the magic moment came!

Back at the right window, he spent just that extra second this time. I don't think he gave up! He must've figured, "It is what it is. They'll move when they move"...

For, even as he thrust his head out a little, closed his eyes, lifted his head, opened his mouth wide and let the rain drops fall in, the wheels northbound on I95 started rolling...


Rain and the traffic ensured that the next 5 hours stretched into 6 and more, but just those few seconds made it worth the ride...

Thanks for your time, Tammy Jo...

 

Dream...

I must've been dreaming! It was so real. Just as always...

There were two new shirts and he let me take the one I liked better! He didn't try even one of them, while I tried on both. In fact, I even tried one over the other. And then handed him the slightly brownish one because I always fancied white-based shirts. They were a good contrast on me...

He was nine years older than me. Like a brother! For a long time growing up we would both get the same material of cloth, he would get a full sleeve shirt and trousers made out of it and I, the little guy, would get short sleeves and shorts. We looked like brothers...

And then I hit my growth spurt, late into the teens and soon I was there, almost as tall as him. It's when I started vying for the same shirts he wore and of course, I was grown up. I wanted trousers! That only meant that we stopped buying the same material. We could have looked like twins...

He took the brownish shirt, without the slightest shrug of the shoulder. He even managed a smile...

We were in that room! We shared it. We both slept on the floor (though he would arise hours before). Half the wardrobe was his and the other half was mine. Really doesn't matter, does it, when we just wore whichever shirt we liked? Neither his, nor mine...

We ate! It was no different then. If there was that last treat left in the dish, he would let me have it. It wasn't the law! It was just assumed. Whoever was serving, they knew it. Everybody knew it. If there was something to be given up, he'd be the one giving it up...

We lay in our spots on the floor! The TV was on. That's how we watched it all night long. No eye doctor would approve of it but none knew why neither of us wore eye glasses either. My son, had he been there then, would've said, "that's how we rolled"...

And then that fleeting moment! He looked me in the eye and said something. I think I heard him. But I couldn't tell. I looked him back in his eyes. Rather in surprise. "Is this real? Did he just say that"? Truly, I was happy. Because finally, he was asking me for something...

Almost everyday, staring at him in that disbelief, I wake up! Then I feel lost. Even so wretched. "What did he ask me for? And why did I wake up before I could give it to him. Why am I so, that even in my dream, he won't let me give...

They say it's a psychological fact that when someone appears in your dream, it means they miss you! How could it be? They must be wrong. For ever since he's been gone, over 9 years ago, I'm the one who's missed him...

Maybe, he never left...

You'll never get a day older Sundar! But soon, I'll be as old as you. Some day I hope to be to someone, an Uncle as precious as you...

iKarma...

I don't do much around the house!

I work very hard at my job, often putting in more hours a week than are needed and sometimes even burning the midnight oil or rising really early to make sure I've given the job at hand everything I have. Whether it meets the expectation of another or not then becomes a matter of rhetoric...

So when it comes to home, I take it easy! If I can get a few minutes in between, I'd rather watch TV, I take pride (not just pleasure) from a Saturday afternoon nap and given the smallest chance, I'll sit on my high black chair, put my feet up on the bed and do my favorite thing. Write...

But there is one thing I do! Without fail. Every week day, at about 630 AM, as I make myself a cup of coffee (first or second depending on what time I wake up), I also make my son his favorite lunch. "Idli"...

Now if you don't know "Idli", go Wiki - "a traditional breakfast in south Indian households, Idli is savory cake of south Indian origin popular throughout India. The cakes are usually two to three inches in diameter and are made by steaming a batter consisting of fermented black lentils (de-husked) and rice"...

The Idli I make for my little fellow is the mini-version. About an inch each in diameter, I make them in a circular steel mould that has 18 little cups (kinda like a cup cake tray, only round), which are filled with the batter and then placed in a pressure cooker (go Wiki) to be steamed...

And I have a method! First I pull out the bottom pan of the pressure cooker and pour some water in it. Enough to drown a base plate made of aluminium on which will stand, first an empty Idli mould of the traditional 2-3 inch diameter type and then over it, the special 18 one-inch cup mould....

Once I place the traditional mould on the base plate, I pour some water on it to cover its four 2-3 inch cups, to temper the metal plate from being wrung out of shape due to the heat. It's holding water now, but one fine evening, it will be filled with batter to provide a traditional "tiffin" dinner to the family...

Then comes the best part! I pick up the little fellow's special mould and with a carefully cleaned index finger, I apply Ghee (go Wiki) to each of the 18 cups. Once the cups are well-oiled, I fill them with the batter and carefully place it over the support plate. I then close the cooker with the lid and turn the stove on...

It takes 20 minutes! Just enough time for me to walk upstairs, wake up my son, throw him in the shower, get back to the kitchen, heat up his breakfast waffle and his milk and set them on the table for him. Once I turn off the stove, I let it cool for a few minutes before I can open the pressure cooker again...

I safely put the hot lid away, pull out the plate full of Idlis and place them next to the little fellow's lunch box. I then scoop out the Idlis, one at a time, placing 4 rows of 4 each that fit the lunch box like a square and put one right in the middle on top of the others. Idli number 18 is served to the Gods in a little silver cup...

Today is a week day! The middle of the week in fact and my busiest. I woke up at 3 AM, started working, had my first coffee at 5 and by 630, it was time for my second. And as though I'm wired to do this by rote, the Idli was already cooking when the digital clock on the stove turned 637...

Having added a couple of slides to the presentation I was creating and draining the coffee from my cup by 7, I went to wake him up. It usually takes a couple of call outs to get him up but today, he sprang up from the bed on the very first call. "Yay! It's a Half-Day Today", he said, even before wishing me Good Morning...

In a second, he was in the shower and I was back in the kitchen. I had just switched off the stove before 7, so I set his breakfast on the table and then opened the cooker. And even before he arrived at the table, I had packed his lunch, put it in his lunch bag and gone to get ready to drop him at school...

"Are you dropping him or should I", my wife asked? "I'm going, I'm just getting ready", I said. "Thanks" she added, "But why did you pack Idli for him today? Today is a Half-Day", she said. It's when I realised that it hadn't even registered when he said it a little while ago. "He can still have it for lunch", I smiled...

Soon we were in the car, on the way to school and then I was back at my work desk, which I didn't leave for many hours. A quick lunch was followed by more work and when I decided it was time to hang up my boots for the day, I sat up on my chair, put my feet up on the bed and started writing this...

I paused here for a bit, looked out the window, and wondered!  This is my sweat-equity, I think! My "Idli Karma"...