Ever heard the song by Starship? It's nothing new but can't say it's nothing great. In fact, it's 10.17 AM on 1 Jan 2010, and I am sitting on my couch listening to this song and writing this. For I have just decided that this song will be my motto for this new year and you, dear reader, can certainly make it yours too.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5PP1HEFlkdY
You've got the drift and you've seen the song, now you want the story?
It was roughly the same time last night that we hit the New Jersey turnpike. My wife's sister is visiting and so is one of my dearest cousins, so we decided to spend a nice New Year's eve by watching Alvin and the Chipmunks, the Squeakuel at a nearby theatre. The show began at 730 PM and ended at 9, not as great as the orignial (part 1), but a good "time pass" movie.
As we pulled out of the parking lot a little after 9, I asked the family (in the fully packed car), if they were in a hurry to get back home, or were they up for an aimless drive? No one said no, so before they realized, I was on Route 38, headed west towards the quaint city of Philadelphia. My wife was not very convinced about the idea, I could tell from the look on her face, but I comforted her by saying that we would not get out of the car, but just drive through the streets of center city, which is how the downtown area is called, just to get the New Year feel.
I was hardly 5 mins down that road (south and west, remember) and an idea bulb went off in my head. I turned to my wife who sat next to me and softly said, "should we go in the other direction? I mean, towards the other city?" The look on her face obviously worsened but she still said ok. I wasn't sure she was and I prodded her a little further. "But you will have to fill gas", was all she said and that is all I needed. I missed the first U turn but on the second, I was heading back East and North on Route 38. Exxon on Route 73 South ensured we had a full tank and all this had taken close to an hour. Like I said, we hit the New Jersey turnpike, just about 10 PM.
My son, curious as he always is, was asking me the question, "Appa, do you even know where you are going?". "We are just going for a long ride Kanna", I insisted. He was not convinced either and my cousin and my sister-in-law had to come into play to distract him. Word building was the name of the game. The 2 in the back seat with my son are in the US for the first time and were obviously curiously excited, not knowing where we were going, but waiting to see. The lady of the house, in the front passesger seat, had to slide the backrest further back and close her eyes, in order not to show her dissent. I was moving forward.
We had entered the turnpike at exit 4 and it was raining. There was a thick fog and the prediction was that there could be ice and snow. Every often she would open her eyes and inform me about the weather, like I could not see it for myself. After about 10 miles, when we were getting close to exit 5, she could take it no more and she said, "I think we should turn back and go home". Wise woman that she was, she knew that our home was exactly in between exits 4 and 5 and that was the best chance to keep me from turning that bulb in my head OFF. "Let us just go a little longer and if it gets bad, I will turn back I promise", I said. She knew and I knew, I was not turning back.
The words continued to get built, the music continued to waft in the confused ambience inside the car and I kept the steady pace of 55 to 60 miles per hour on a 65 speed limit road. It was raining after all and all I coud see were the tail lights in front of me. "Appa, I need to use the rest room", came the call and we had to pull up into a service area. I still did not like the look on my wife's face. "Ha! Starbucks", I said. "Chai latte?", I questioned and she nodded, not thoroughly convincing. If there was one thing that could brighten her up, it was that. Alas, Starbucks was closed and we had to settle for Tetley tea and hot chocolate from Roy Rogers.
Quickly back in the car, we rode on. The words continued to flow and the skepticism was still in the air. I did everything I could to make everyone comfortable. Soon we were cruising in the rain, playing, answering phone calls and secretly I was praying (to my lord Sai Baba) that All would be well and that my secret desire would be fulfilled.
The Newark airport at exit 13 A provided for a little distraction. Everyone was searching the air to see if there were any flights landing and then to the runway to see if there were any taking off. With the amount of fog in the air, the chance of anything happening seemed remote and all they saw was the huge tractor, truck kind of vehicle ardently spraying salt on the runways and on the highway. More likelihood of snow! If you are taking the New Jersey turnpike one way or the other, I recommend you watch out to the left while going North and to the right while going South, when you are in the region between exits 13 and 14 (or 14 and 13). The sight of flights taking off and landing at the Newark airport at exit 13 A is simply breathtaking. And it can be quite an experience when you are in a moving car. But the one who is driving has to be focused.
I was chugging along. "So are you going into the city?", she asked. "Why don't we park the car at Seacaucus and take the train?" It was a good idea, no doubt, but it was not part of my plan. One of the greatest things about New York city is when you are entering it by road, just before you hit the Lincoln Tunnel, when you curve right to enter the tunnel, on the left you will see a full size view of midtown Manhattan. What can be awe-inspring in the day is simply out of the world at night, lights et al. So soon, I was past exit 15X for Seacaucus and had taken exit 16E for the Lincoln Tunnel.
The heavy fog had prevented a previously breathtaking view of the city. Just after you pass the Newark airport area, there is a kind of elevation on the road, it's not really a bridge, but more like a mound, and when you climb it and start climbing down, you get the first glimpse of the city's skyline, quite a view it is. The fog simply offered nothing to us today and at that point we had missed that. But now we were close to tunnel and as I took that right curve, I asked the first-timers to pay attention and there it was, that wonderful view of midtown.
"So we are going into the city, aren't we?", my son asked and per a previous conversation we had had, I now owed him $5, because he bet that that is where I was going and I had just brushed him aside by saying we were going for a long drive.
As we were in the tunnel, I felt the need for another pit stop and my son agreed. Though my original intention was to just drive into the city, get on the west end highway, all along the Hudson river and get out of the city through the George Washington Bridge, that was not to be. The Port Authority Bus Station and the car parking on top of it are right outside the tunnel and I pulled up into the parking lot, remember we needed the pit stop. The good part about this parking lot is that it's right on top of the bus station cum subway complex, so it has rest rooms, cafes and the works.
All of us had eased ourselves and it was time to decide what to do next. But that was only for my wife because I knew exactly what I was doing. I gave her a hug, got hold of my child's arm and asked him to wear his gloves. There was only one way we were going. Out. We stepped out on to 8th avenue and it was 1140 PM. The mighty New York times building was right in front of us and as we tried to find its vertical end, we only found ourselves staring into the fog. But that was not the important thing now. Here we were 2 blocks away from Times Square, 20 minutes from midnight, when the legendary ball dropping would take place to announce the New Year.
"Let's just go to that Starbucks, get that chai latte and get back to the car", I sugggested, fully knowing that is not what I meant. So we moved towards 42nd street and realized that at the corner of 42nd and 8th, there was no moving forward. All we could see was a sea of humans. The police had cordoned off the streets and the sidewalks were overflowing. However, we noticed that everyone was looking in the direction of 7th and 43rd and we could see a building with a clock tower with a ball on top of it. "Is that the ball", people were asking. "No, I don't think so", someone else was saying. There was no way we were getting to Starbucks so I suggested that we get back to the car.
"No, let's just wait and see what happens", my wife said and that bulb in my brain started glowing like a thousand watts. No sooner had she said that (it was closer to 1155) and suddenly the floodgates were opened and the police allowed the people from the sidelwalk to step on the street. It was raining and I had my son on my shoulder, so I asked my family not to step out onto the street, but before I had realized, my wife, cathcing hold of her sister's hand, had surged forward and brought herself to a spot, from where we could see the REAL BALL! Did I have an option? My son, my cousin and I were there in less than a minute too.
All we heard was noise. And then it happened. The ball started falling slowly and the fireworks emerged. Streaks of color filled the sky and the glitzy signs in the Times Square area added to the fervor. The noise increased. And the countdown began, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, ZERO. And the crowd went wild. HAPPY NEW YEAR! My wife was smiling and my son was loving it. As for my 2 guests who were visiting New York for the first time, you probably have to email them or check them out on Facebook, to see what they felt.
To me, this night was not about watching the ever famous ball dropping at New York's Times Square. It was about stretching my limits. On another day, I would have never undertaken this journey. Rain, fog and expectation of ice and snow were a perfect recipe to stay home, watch a movie and go to bed. And I would have been thoroughly satisfied with that. Last night, there was a desire, to ask for more from life and stretch myself a little harder to get it. Honestly, all I wanted was to show my guests, my dear sister-in-law and my dear cousin, the 2 breathtaking views of New York city that I have never ceased to be amazed with how many ever times I have seen them. I just wanted to make them feel excited about this New Year eve. When my wife wanted to turn back at exit 5, I decided I was sticking to the course and I guess I hit the jackpot.
And hence the theme and title of this story. Last night made me believe, that nothing is going to stop me this year and I am going to stretch myself to get what I want in life. And I wanted to share this with one and all, family and friends, just to let you know, Nothing's going to stop you now.
WISHING YOU, DEAR READER, A LIMITLESS NEW YEAR. GO GET WHAT YOU WANT.
Our wonderful journey ended at 245 AM, only after my wife got an extra hot cup of Chai latte from Casa Java and we witnessed a medium size aircraft touchdown at the Newark airport, literally metres away from eyesight...
Friday, January 1, 2010
Thursday, December 24, 2009
What should I do now?
It's 254 PM EST on 24 Dec 2009. Hancock International Airport, Syracuse, NY, USA. What rest of the world would oversimplify as Christmas Eve.
I just spent the last 10 minutes thinking about what I should do. I was very efficient today. Got to work at 8 AM and worked with ruthless precision to wrap up most of my work at 1 Pm sharp and left the office for the airport. Syracuse is a small city, so exactly 1 hour from that point, I had got to the airport, returned the rental car, checked in, cleared security and finished lunch.
I knew exactly what to do at 2 PM. There was that one last document I needed to email to my client (there is always that one last document...). So I opened my laptop and got busy. One document is never one document and a couple of emails is never a couple so I ended up spending roughly 45 minutes working, but the ruthless precision continued and I had completed what I wanted to do in that time.
That is when I started wondering what to do next. Because exactly at that point, the attendant at the US air desk at Gate 5 announced that the aircraft meant for Philadelphia at 320 PM had just left Philadelphia for Syracuse and was expected to get here at roughly 305 and that they would start boarding just after that. So at worst, there could be a 15 or 20 minute delay. Not bad considering that my travel from Philadelphia to Syracuse earlier in the week was quite a story.
So I had some time on my hand. Since I am sitting on a seat that faces out into the open (the runways et al...) I can actually see when the flight from Philadeplhia has come to a complete stop at Gate 5. So I don't have the need to shut my laptop any sooner than that.
That is when I started thinking what I must do now. I kept looking at my email box. No email had really come in since 233 and that is surprising for me. It's Christmas Eve for sure... I hit the refresh button just to be sure and I hit it again, to be more sure. Nothing. I logged into gmail. Nothing. I logged in to all my other email addresses. Nothing, nothing, nothing...
At that point, I knew I really had nothing to do for the rest of this time while I am waiting for flight 4305 to show up from Phialdelphia. I started to wonder. Should I get up and go get a drink? May be I should get some dessert... And then voila! I knew what I should do. BLOG!
There is certainly some relationship between the "Nothing Time" I spend at airports and my blogging habit for most of my blogs (and certainly my best ones) have happened at the airport while waiting for my flight. Free Internet at airports like the Hancock International only make it better.
I see a flight that has just pulled up and come to a complete stop at Gate 5. I do not know if it is from Philadelphia and I cannot hear any announcement (certainly not above Theenda Theenda Parvai Theenda from Chinna that is playing in my ears on high volume). But I turn around and and no one seated at the gate seems to be in any hurry to board this plane. So I will go on...
I try to think this through. I am a glutton. I have just had a tomato basil soup for lunch and nothing more. On another day, I would definitely got up from my seat with a view and got a dessert or a drink. Or at least run to the rest room and...
So why did I decide to just sit here in the comfort of this seat and BLOG? Was it my passion to write? Was it my resolve not to overeat today? Or was it this gorgeous girl who walked up to the window, took off her jacket (to reveal the rich red sweater) and strethced out her legs on the floor just five feet from me... We will never know, will we?
I just spent the last 10 minutes thinking about what I should do. I was very efficient today. Got to work at 8 AM and worked with ruthless precision to wrap up most of my work at 1 Pm sharp and left the office for the airport. Syracuse is a small city, so exactly 1 hour from that point, I had got to the airport, returned the rental car, checked in, cleared security and finished lunch.
I knew exactly what to do at 2 PM. There was that one last document I needed to email to my client (there is always that one last document...). So I opened my laptop and got busy. One document is never one document and a couple of emails is never a couple so I ended up spending roughly 45 minutes working, but the ruthless precision continued and I had completed what I wanted to do in that time.
That is when I started wondering what to do next. Because exactly at that point, the attendant at the US air desk at Gate 5 announced that the aircraft meant for Philadelphia at 320 PM had just left Philadelphia for Syracuse and was expected to get here at roughly 305 and that they would start boarding just after that. So at worst, there could be a 15 or 20 minute delay. Not bad considering that my travel from Philadelphia to Syracuse earlier in the week was quite a story.
So I had some time on my hand. Since I am sitting on a seat that faces out into the open (the runways et al...) I can actually see when the flight from Philadeplhia has come to a complete stop at Gate 5. So I don't have the need to shut my laptop any sooner than that.
That is when I started thinking what I must do now. I kept looking at my email box. No email had really come in since 233 and that is surprising for me. It's Christmas Eve for sure... I hit the refresh button just to be sure and I hit it again, to be more sure. Nothing. I logged into gmail. Nothing. I logged in to all my other email addresses. Nothing, nothing, nothing...
At that point, I knew I really had nothing to do for the rest of this time while I am waiting for flight 4305 to show up from Phialdelphia. I started to wonder. Should I get up and go get a drink? May be I should get some dessert... And then voila! I knew what I should do. BLOG!
There is certainly some relationship between the "Nothing Time" I spend at airports and my blogging habit for most of my blogs (and certainly my best ones) have happened at the airport while waiting for my flight. Free Internet at airports like the Hancock International only make it better.
I see a flight that has just pulled up and come to a complete stop at Gate 5. I do not know if it is from Philadelphia and I cannot hear any announcement (certainly not above Theenda Theenda Parvai Theenda from Chinna that is playing in my ears on high volume). But I turn around and and no one seated at the gate seems to be in any hurry to board this plane. So I will go on...
I try to think this through. I am a glutton. I have just had a tomato basil soup for lunch and nothing more. On another day, I would definitely got up from my seat with a view and got a dessert or a drink. Or at least run to the rest room and...
So why did I decide to just sit here in the comfort of this seat and BLOG? Was it my passion to write? Was it my resolve not to overeat today? Or was it this gorgeous girl who walked up to the window, took off her jacket (to reveal the rich red sweater) and strethced out her legs on the floor just five feet from me... We will never know, will we?
Monday, December 14, 2009
I am Not So Great!
Dedicated to the woman who has committed her life to making mine BEAUTIFUL.
"What would you like to eat before you leave?", she asked me from the kitchen. "I just ate my oatmeal, I said. "That is right, but you will be on the road for a couple of hours once you leave here and then you will go straight to your meeting and I am sure you won't get anywhere close to food until about 4 PM", she insisted.
I felt like sometimes, my wife's only job was to feed me and my son. We'd be sitting there barely having digested our lunch and she would be wondering what to make for dinner. She's committed alright. So that day was just another day. It was exactly a week ago, on 7 Dec 09 and it was about 1015 AM. I had a meeting with a client in New York city at 2 PM and would be hitting the road soon. And keep in mind, I had my oatmeal that morning a little before 9 AM.
"What do you want? Upma or Maggi?". There was the question again. "Upma is good", I said, just to get her out of my hair. I was working, writing emails furiously, trying to get some things done on a Monday morning. "When do you plan to leave? Aren't you getting late?", she prodded further. "Shouldn't I wait till the upma is done?", was my response. I was trying to be smart, to trap her in her own ruse. She just gave me a wry smile. "Just a couple of emails to be done, by when the upma will also be done. Eat, that, dress up and I will be in my car at 11 AM sharp", I said.
"Upma ready", came the call, but this time it was from closer. I was so engrossed with my couple of emails that I hadn't realised she had brought the upma to me where I was, on my couch, legs stretched out on the center table. I had to respect the upma so that was the end of that email and I promptly dropped the laptop back on the table and picked up my plate. I noticed she had made some for herself too and I decided to spend the next 5 minutes eating and chatting with her, the least I can do for a woman who did so much for me. I have to thank God for little pleasures like working from home, for those 5 minutes were nice. Hot upma, small talk... How many times have I done small talk with her in the last one year (the last 10 for that matter...)?
I didn't have to ask her, but she promptly took my plate and put it over hers when we were both finished and put both of them in the kitchen sink. Washing them to a sparkle was on her agenda sometime that day, coming soon. "You are making coffee, right?". I guess I did ask for this one. The plate that left my lap not even a minute ago had already been replaced by my laptop, so even as I continued my furious emailing, I slightly tilted my head to check her reaction to my ask. I had seen that stare before, several times, but it was accompanied by a smile, so I knew I had gotten away this time. She loved my sheer cheek.
5 emails later the best flavor ever created by God teased my nostrils. I did not even have to look up, for my favorite white cup was placed right next to me on a coaster. "Thank you for the excellent customer service", I said, picking it up right away. "Hey! Can I ask you for just one thing more? I haven't ironed my white shirt yet and I have this important document to send out before I leave...", and my face wore an expression of pleading. "You are really too much", was all she said, as she walked away towards our bedroom this time.
It took me another 10 minutes to relish that coffee to its last sip and I looked down the bottom of the empty cup with despair. The important document was also sent and it was 10:45 AM. I had decided that the emailing had to stop and I spent another couple of minutes shutting down my laptop and shoving it in my bag. I stood up and stretched myself again staring into the sunlight. It was a bright sunny morning and I was feeling really good (for a Monday morning!). I ambled into the bedroom and further into the closet. I slipped on my trousers and my undershirt.
"Here you go", she said, "and is there anything else I can do for you today?". "Oh yeah! Will you slip my coat on from my back once I am all ready?", I said as I put on my well pressed crisp white shirt and just started to knot my new red tie (which she got me for my birthday!). She must have been seething with anger by now and she came right behind me and said, "why don't you let me knot your tie?. That way I can strangle you this instant". "I don't need that service this morning, thank you", I said, picked up my coat, handed it to her and walked out of my bedroom back to the hall.
I picked up my wallet on the way, put on my socks and shoes and then realised I had forgotten my ring and neck chain that I always wear everyday. "Can you?", I said and she slowly walked back to fetch them from their little home. I took them from her, wore them on and looked at the small mirror. "I feel good", I said. "That's good", she said and I realised she was ready with my coat in her hand waiting to help me get into it. She eased it on to my arms and then wiped away the lint from its back. I was all set. She then gave me a warm hug and said, "Good Luck. You will do well today." I gave her a peck on the cheek, thanked her and walked out. It was 11 AM.
For someone who grew up watching Indian films in the 1980s, everything that happened in the last 45 minutes was all too familiar. The lady of the house, waking up early, getting the breakfast on the table, getting the kid ready, seeing him off at the bus station and then attending to the husband's every little need till shw saw him ride away to work in his car. "But then", I thought to myself, as I merged on to interstate highway 295N, "those men in those movies were all great men, business tycoons and the like".
I am not so great! Not yet. I guess, I am just BLESSED!
Exactly one week later, on this Monday morning, at 723 AM, I am sitting at the Philadelphia airport, the victim of a delayed flight. I left home at the ungodly hour of 330 AM and she was still there, gving me the proverbial hug and waiting on the patio, till the airport shuttle pulled away from the parking lot. And today is no ordinary day. It's her Birthday. So as I am sitting here killing time, I decided that the least I could do for her today was write this for her and thank her, for making my every moment so beautiful. For making my Life so BEAUTIFUL.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PONDATTI.
"What would you like to eat before you leave?", she asked me from the kitchen. "I just ate my oatmeal, I said. "That is right, but you will be on the road for a couple of hours once you leave here and then you will go straight to your meeting and I am sure you won't get anywhere close to food until about 4 PM", she insisted.
I felt like sometimes, my wife's only job was to feed me and my son. We'd be sitting there barely having digested our lunch and she would be wondering what to make for dinner. She's committed alright. So that day was just another day. It was exactly a week ago, on 7 Dec 09 and it was about 1015 AM. I had a meeting with a client in New York city at 2 PM and would be hitting the road soon. And keep in mind, I had my oatmeal that morning a little before 9 AM.
"What do you want? Upma or Maggi?". There was the question again. "Upma is good", I said, just to get her out of my hair. I was working, writing emails furiously, trying to get some things done on a Monday morning. "When do you plan to leave? Aren't you getting late?", she prodded further. "Shouldn't I wait till the upma is done?", was my response. I was trying to be smart, to trap her in her own ruse. She just gave me a wry smile. "Just a couple of emails to be done, by when the upma will also be done. Eat, that, dress up and I will be in my car at 11 AM sharp", I said.
"Upma ready", came the call, but this time it was from closer. I was so engrossed with my couple of emails that I hadn't realised she had brought the upma to me where I was, on my couch, legs stretched out on the center table. I had to respect the upma so that was the end of that email and I promptly dropped the laptop back on the table and picked up my plate. I noticed she had made some for herself too and I decided to spend the next 5 minutes eating and chatting with her, the least I can do for a woman who did so much for me. I have to thank God for little pleasures like working from home, for those 5 minutes were nice. Hot upma, small talk... How many times have I done small talk with her in the last one year (the last 10 for that matter...)?
I didn't have to ask her, but she promptly took my plate and put it over hers when we were both finished and put both of them in the kitchen sink. Washing them to a sparkle was on her agenda sometime that day, coming soon. "You are making coffee, right?". I guess I did ask for this one. The plate that left my lap not even a minute ago had already been replaced by my laptop, so even as I continued my furious emailing, I slightly tilted my head to check her reaction to my ask. I had seen that stare before, several times, but it was accompanied by a smile, so I knew I had gotten away this time. She loved my sheer cheek.
5 emails later the best flavor ever created by God teased my nostrils. I did not even have to look up, for my favorite white cup was placed right next to me on a coaster. "Thank you for the excellent customer service", I said, picking it up right away. "Hey! Can I ask you for just one thing more? I haven't ironed my white shirt yet and I have this important document to send out before I leave...", and my face wore an expression of pleading. "You are really too much", was all she said, as she walked away towards our bedroom this time.
It took me another 10 minutes to relish that coffee to its last sip and I looked down the bottom of the empty cup with despair. The important document was also sent and it was 10:45 AM. I had decided that the emailing had to stop and I spent another couple of minutes shutting down my laptop and shoving it in my bag. I stood up and stretched myself again staring into the sunlight. It was a bright sunny morning and I was feeling really good (for a Monday morning!). I ambled into the bedroom and further into the closet. I slipped on my trousers and my undershirt.
"Here you go", she said, "and is there anything else I can do for you today?". "Oh yeah! Will you slip my coat on from my back once I am all ready?", I said as I put on my well pressed crisp white shirt and just started to knot my new red tie (which she got me for my birthday!). She must have been seething with anger by now and she came right behind me and said, "why don't you let me knot your tie?. That way I can strangle you this instant". "I don't need that service this morning, thank you", I said, picked up my coat, handed it to her and walked out of my bedroom back to the hall.
I picked up my wallet on the way, put on my socks and shoes and then realised I had forgotten my ring and neck chain that I always wear everyday. "Can you?", I said and she slowly walked back to fetch them from their little home. I took them from her, wore them on and looked at the small mirror. "I feel good", I said. "That's good", she said and I realised she was ready with my coat in her hand waiting to help me get into it. She eased it on to my arms and then wiped away the lint from its back. I was all set. She then gave me a warm hug and said, "Good Luck. You will do well today." I gave her a peck on the cheek, thanked her and walked out. It was 11 AM.
For someone who grew up watching Indian films in the 1980s, everything that happened in the last 45 minutes was all too familiar. The lady of the house, waking up early, getting the breakfast on the table, getting the kid ready, seeing him off at the bus station and then attending to the husband's every little need till shw saw him ride away to work in his car. "But then", I thought to myself, as I merged on to interstate highway 295N, "those men in those movies were all great men, business tycoons and the like".
I am not so great! Not yet. I guess, I am just BLESSED!
Exactly one week later, on this Monday morning, at 723 AM, I am sitting at the Philadelphia airport, the victim of a delayed flight. I left home at the ungodly hour of 330 AM and she was still there, gving me the proverbial hug and waiting on the patio, till the airport shuttle pulled away from the parking lot. And today is no ordinary day. It's her Birthday. So as I am sitting here killing time, I decided that the least I could do for her today was write this for her and thank her, for making my every moment so beautiful. For making my Life so BEAUTIFUL.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY PONDATTI.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Good Grief!
Q: To begin with, how can grief be good?
A: I don't know but let's not worry about that.
Q: So what should we worry about?
A: Nothing. Don't worry, Be Happy.
Q: Be Happy about what?
A: Happy that this is a kind of first.
Q: Why is it a kind of first?
A; Because I have never done this before.
Q: What have I never done before?
A: I have never written a post within 2 days of publishing my last one, so it's a first.
Q: What was my last post about?
A: What Women Want...
Q: What will people think when they first read that post?
A: They will think it was inspired by wife.
Q: So wasn't it inspired by my wife?
A: Inspired, YES. She is my BIGGEST inspiration.
Q: But was she the reason for Grief?
A: No, not at all, it was just a series of stuff I saw and heard that led to my professional perspective on What Women Want...
Q: So what did I see?
A: For starts, I saw the movie, What Women Want (for the umpteenth time). And if you still haven't seen it, I still recommend it.
Q: And what did I hear?
A: I heard a joke about how women think from a well-known stand up comedian.
Q: And who might he be?
A: I am not mentioning his name. This is not a free advertisement for him.
Q: So it was a "He", wasn't it?
A: Yes, that is kind of obvious from the post itself.
Q: OK, let the last post lie, why is this one called good grief?
A: That is because I have had a lot of grief this week.
Q: And what, may I ask, that was?
A: It began on Monday, with a client, who gave me grief.
Q: Why did he give me grief?
A: Because he kept saying, "Hi so-and-so, How come you haven't given me any grief today".
Q: So that gave me grief?
A: Really, not that, but the fact that we were performing miserably on a project for this client.
Q: Oh come on! Wasn't the client being nice with his sense of humor?
A: He was being nice no doubt, but that did not take away the fact that we were performing miserably.
Q: So what did that mean?
A: That meant a few more sleepless nights for me.
Q: Really? How sleepless?
A: 2 hours of sleep is all I got on Monday night.
Q: Isn't 2 hours plenty?
A: Yes, it's plenty of grief.
Q: Oh, come on! Was it that bad?
A: Yes, given that, I had 2 flights to the same client's location on Tuesday and a 4 hour meeting that afternoon.
Q: So did I sleep right through the meeting?
A: I tried, but it was too hot to sleep.
Q: How hot was it?
A: Despite our temporary miserable performance, the client is giving us more work, that's how hot it was.
Q: So did I go party after the meeting?
A: Yes I did. Dinner on the riverside and then watching basketball and babes in a British bar till midnight.
Q: Quite a party, eh?
A: Yes, but that meant I didn't sleep on time that night either.
Q: 2 nights in a row is not that bad, is it?
A: It's bad if you have 2 more flights to ride on the next day.
Q: And exactly where was I off to?
A: Rochester, New York
Q: Wow, quite a traveller, aren't I?
A: I do what I must do.
Q: And what did I do in Rochester?
A: I spent a sleepless Wednesday night.
Q: And how did that come about?
A: The Phillies beat the Yankees in the first World Series baseball game and then there was this movie on TBS.
Q: Not again! What movie?
A: I am Sam.
Q: Amn't I Lakshmi?
A: I am Lakshmi, but the movie was "I am Sam".
Q: What about Sam?
A: He made stay up until 4 AM.
Q: Wasn't I planning to show up for work Thursday morning?
A: I was, at our corporate headquarters.
Q: So what's the story?
A: I was up at 7 AM and worked until 7 PM.
Q: Then what?
A: That was the best part of the week, I had a south Indian meal.
Q: So didn't that put me to sleep?
A: Not at all. I ended up watching an Indian movie.
Q: How would I watch an Indian movie at a hotel in Rochester?
A: Slumdog Millionaire.
Q: How is that an Indian movie?
A: Made in India, Indian movie.
Q: Didn't it get some Oscar Awards?
A: Yes, and I got another sleepless night.
Q: Didn't I Thank God, the next day was Friday.
A: Yes I did thank god. But for him I wouldn't
have made my meeting at 9 AM.
Q: And how did that go?
A: It went well, but that meant more work.
Q: So is it all work and no play?
A: No. It's all work and no sleep.
Q: Won't you get some sleep on Friday night?
A: Only if I get home on time.
Q: What's up with that?
A: My flight was delayed and I am now sitting on this plane, writing this piece.
Q: When will I stop writing this piece?
A: Looks like I won't stop writing this piece, because, my plane is landing in Philadelphia and the hostess didn't even notice I am still chugging away on my laptop...
Q: Now, will I break the rules and keep my laptop on through the landing?
A: No I won't. If I did that, I probably wouldn't sleep tonight!
Q: So did I shut off the laptop?
A: Yes, but only to open it again when I was on the shuttle back home.
Q: How is it working in the shuttle?
A: Quite a bumpy ride, but at least I will sleep tonight.
Q. How will that be? Won't I be up trying to upload this to the internet?
A. I will, but that will make me feel happy.
Q: Will this be the end of my grief?
A: No. But this is definitely the end of my piece.
Good Night. No grief...
This is an original post published on Oct 30, 2009 by Lakshminarayan Balasubramaniam.
A: I don't know but let's not worry about that.
Q: So what should we worry about?
A: Nothing. Don't worry, Be Happy.
Q: Be Happy about what?
A: Happy that this is a kind of first.
Q: Why is it a kind of first?
A; Because I have never done this before.
Q: What have I never done before?
A: I have never written a post within 2 days of publishing my last one, so it's a first.
Q: What was my last post about?
A: What Women Want...
Q: What will people think when they first read that post?
A: They will think it was inspired by wife.
Q: So wasn't it inspired by my wife?
A: Inspired, YES. She is my BIGGEST inspiration.
Q: But was she the reason for Grief?
A: No, not at all, it was just a series of stuff I saw and heard that led to my professional perspective on What Women Want...
Q: So what did I see?
A: For starts, I saw the movie, What Women Want (for the umpteenth time). And if you still haven't seen it, I still recommend it.
Q: And what did I hear?
A: I heard a joke about how women think from a well-known stand up comedian.
Q: And who might he be?
A: I am not mentioning his name. This is not a free advertisement for him.
Q: So it was a "He", wasn't it?
A: Yes, that is kind of obvious from the post itself.
Q: OK, let the last post lie, why is this one called good grief?
A: That is because I have had a lot of grief this week.
Q: And what, may I ask, that was?
A: It began on Monday, with a client, who gave me grief.
Q: Why did he give me grief?
A: Because he kept saying, "Hi so-and-so, How come you haven't given me any grief today".
Q: So that gave me grief?
A: Really, not that, but the fact that we were performing miserably on a project for this client.
Q: Oh come on! Wasn't the client being nice with his sense of humor?
A: He was being nice no doubt, but that did not take away the fact that we were performing miserably.
Q: So what did that mean?
A: That meant a few more sleepless nights for me.
Q: Really? How sleepless?
A: 2 hours of sleep is all I got on Monday night.
Q: Isn't 2 hours plenty?
A: Yes, it's plenty of grief.
Q: Oh, come on! Was it that bad?
A: Yes, given that, I had 2 flights to the same client's location on Tuesday and a 4 hour meeting that afternoon.
Q: So did I sleep right through the meeting?
A: I tried, but it was too hot to sleep.
Q: How hot was it?
A: Despite our temporary miserable performance, the client is giving us more work, that's how hot it was.
Q: So did I go party after the meeting?
A: Yes I did. Dinner on the riverside and then watching basketball and babes in a British bar till midnight.
Q: Quite a party, eh?
A: Yes, but that meant I didn't sleep on time that night either.
Q: 2 nights in a row is not that bad, is it?
A: It's bad if you have 2 more flights to ride on the next day.
Q: And exactly where was I off to?
A: Rochester, New York
Q: Wow, quite a traveller, aren't I?
A: I do what I must do.
Q: And what did I do in Rochester?
A: I spent a sleepless Wednesday night.
Q: And how did that come about?
A: The Phillies beat the Yankees in the first World Series baseball game and then there was this movie on TBS.
Q: Not again! What movie?
A: I am Sam.
Q: Amn't I Lakshmi?
A: I am Lakshmi, but the movie was "I am Sam".
Q: What about Sam?
A: He made stay up until 4 AM.
Q: Wasn't I planning to show up for work Thursday morning?
A: I was, at our corporate headquarters.
Q: So what's the story?
A: I was up at 7 AM and worked until 7 PM.
Q: Then what?
A: That was the best part of the week, I had a south Indian meal.
Q: So didn't that put me to sleep?
A: Not at all. I ended up watching an Indian movie.
Q: How would I watch an Indian movie at a hotel in Rochester?
A: Slumdog Millionaire.
Q: How is that an Indian movie?
A: Made in India, Indian movie.
Q: Didn't it get some Oscar Awards?
A: Yes, and I got another sleepless night.
Q: Didn't I Thank God, the next day was Friday.
A: Yes I did thank god. But for him I wouldn't
have made my meeting at 9 AM.
Q: And how did that go?
A: It went well, but that meant more work.
Q: So is it all work and no play?
A: No. It's all work and no sleep.
Q: Won't you get some sleep on Friday night?
A: Only if I get home on time.
Q: What's up with that?
A: My flight was delayed and I am now sitting on this plane, writing this piece.
Q: When will I stop writing this piece?
A: Looks like I won't stop writing this piece, because, my plane is landing in Philadelphia and the hostess didn't even notice I am still chugging away on my laptop...
Q: Now, will I break the rules and keep my laptop on through the landing?
A: No I won't. If I did that, I probably wouldn't sleep tonight!
Q: So did I shut off the laptop?
A: Yes, but only to open it again when I was on the shuttle back home.
Q: How is it working in the shuttle?
A: Quite a bumpy ride, but at least I will sleep tonight.
Q. How will that be? Won't I be up trying to upload this to the internet?
A. I will, but that will make me feel happy.
Q: Will this be the end of my grief?
A: No. But this is definitely the end of my piece.
Good Night. No grief...
This is an original post published on Oct 30, 2009 by Lakshminarayan Balasubramaniam.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
What Women Want! A Professional Point of View.
If you have not seen the Mel Gibson, Helen Hunt starrer, I highly recommend it. I liked it (to say "it's good" is presumptuous).
Just to give you an insight into the movie itself, a man who makes his living in the world of advertising (that's another reason I love this film!!!) suddenly starts hearing what women around him are THINKING (not saying, mind you). And then goes on to create an advertising campaign that is a great hit for a women's product and goes on to woo his own boss who he has fallen for and in the process learns a few lessons about life. Super screenplay, funny in parts and the necessary emotion at the end. But this is not a review of What Women Want.
This is another perspective. I think about it. Is an advertising person the right one to crack the code on the single most challenging puzzle that has haunted all men since ADAM? Remember, the hero of the movie was given the ability to hear what women around him were thinking. That does not happen in real life. So who is the right kind of professional worthy of even trying to solve this?
My first guess is a psychologist. If you are a psychologist, you could probably read a woman by her body language, 'hint' language and the "unspoken" language. I am sure that though many psychologists are up to the task by sheer qualification, most have obviously failed because it still remains the single biggest puzzle...
My next best bet is a scientist. These days scientists are able to do a lot of intricate tests. A professor from a very acclaimed institution recently told me about saliva tests. I believe it is possible to gather information about what is going on in a person's head based on the saliva collected from that person at a given point in time. Give me a minute, gentlemen. Given that the most likely way you got her saliva was because she spat at you, isn't it obvious that there is only one emotion involved here? She is ANGRY, my friend? Who needs a scientist to say that? It only helps to be a scientist if you can go one up and say WHY she is angry. I've been looking for some time, but I haven't found one who can. If you do, please send me the number!
I tried doctors and lawyers. They say you must never lie to your doctor or your lawyer. But women women don't lie (give them some credit here). They just don't say what they are thinking, that's all. If you still don't believe what I am saying, go get tickets to a decent stand up comedy show by a MALE COMEDIAN and you're sure to find material that suggests he is also still searching for an answer. Trust me, all men are...
When men in eminent professsions have failed in this quest and when neither fame nor intellect nor steely will has accomplished this onerours task, how am I to fare? I am, but a project manager. Everything I do, I do with checklists. From the time I wake up till the time I go back to bed, I run my life by checklists. So, it looks like all I can do is ask her to give me a checklist of things that I say or do, that can make her angry. And try really hard to remember the one million line items on that list...
And now I'm going to need a software professional to build a software that can hold a million lines on one sheet. Excel can't!
Just to give you an insight into the movie itself, a man who makes his living in the world of advertising (that's another reason I love this film!!!) suddenly starts hearing what women around him are THINKING (not saying, mind you). And then goes on to create an advertising campaign that is a great hit for a women's product and goes on to woo his own boss who he has fallen for and in the process learns a few lessons about life. Super screenplay, funny in parts and the necessary emotion at the end. But this is not a review of What Women Want.
This is another perspective. I think about it. Is an advertising person the right one to crack the code on the single most challenging puzzle that has haunted all men since ADAM? Remember, the hero of the movie was given the ability to hear what women around him were thinking. That does not happen in real life. So who is the right kind of professional worthy of even trying to solve this?
My first guess is a psychologist. If you are a psychologist, you could probably read a woman by her body language, 'hint' language and the "unspoken" language. I am sure that though many psychologists are up to the task by sheer qualification, most have obviously failed because it still remains the single biggest puzzle...
My next best bet is a scientist. These days scientists are able to do a lot of intricate tests. A professor from a very acclaimed institution recently told me about saliva tests. I believe it is possible to gather information about what is going on in a person's head based on the saliva collected from that person at a given point in time. Give me a minute, gentlemen. Given that the most likely way you got her saliva was because she spat at you, isn't it obvious that there is only one emotion involved here? She is ANGRY, my friend? Who needs a scientist to say that? It only helps to be a scientist if you can go one up and say WHY she is angry. I've been looking for some time, but I haven't found one who can. If you do, please send me the number!
I tried doctors and lawyers. They say you must never lie to your doctor or your lawyer. But women women don't lie (give them some credit here). They just don't say what they are thinking, that's all. If you still don't believe what I am saying, go get tickets to a decent stand up comedy show by a MALE COMEDIAN and you're sure to find material that suggests he is also still searching for an answer. Trust me, all men are...
When men in eminent professsions have failed in this quest and when neither fame nor intellect nor steely will has accomplished this onerours task, how am I to fare? I am, but a project manager. Everything I do, I do with checklists. From the time I wake up till the time I go back to bed, I run my life by checklists. So, it looks like all I can do is ask her to give me a checklist of things that I say or do, that can make her angry. And try really hard to remember the one million line items on that list...
And now I'm going to need a software professional to build a software that can hold a million lines on one sheet. Excel can't!
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Independence Day
Saturday, August 15, 2009
I feel like writing today. Not that there is anything to write about. Not even that I am top of the world yet. I am trying to think why I want to write or what I feel. Only a strange kind of coincidence occurs to the mind. Today is India's Independence Day and today I feel a strange kind of independence myself.
Independence from some of the ghosts that have chased me for a very long time in life. I was telling my wife a couple of days back how her recent trip to India (being away for six weeks) was an awakening time for me. For one, this time I made better of my fear for staying alone. I still slept with the lights on in the pathway from the living room to the bedroom alright, but that's why I said I made better of my FEAR and not got away with my fear.
It's not just the physical FEAR of being alone. I can see how the FEAR of things unknown is fading out. Not to say I was not alarmed by the huge guy on the Broadway sidewalk last night who was walking ahead of me and suddenly turned around and said something. I am not even sure if he was talking to me, but all I know was I was walking faster towards the doors of my hotel which were less than a few paces away. That safety was at hand's reach was comforting.
It was not the case though on the other night in the same New York neighbourhood exactly 3 weeks ago. That was another Friday night, when I spent one hour, from midnight to 1 AM on the bench in the middle of Broadway at 94th, alongside a couple of homeless people. Not long ago, not even the day before that one, I would not have crossed the road to go to the other side if those same people were sitting there on that bench. I would have gone down the sidewalk on my side, a few blocks further even, to get to the famous tea and muchkins I so savor from Dunkin Donuts. That's another story...
I am just returning home after taking a second term exam and I am trying to think if I had FEAR of exams before. No. It was just a hatred for exams. I just did not want to take them, but I sure had the FEAR of failure. That was the killer, not only in my academic history, but on several counts in life. There was a time in my life when FEAR of failure did not let me seek what I wanted, did not let me ask for what I sought. That FEAR has gone too, I feel. Contrary to that FEAR, I feel it is the lack of that FEAR that is my bane now. I am not even afraid of making mistakes now. Actually, that is my only FEAR!
Not even snakes. No more can they frighten me. I like to believe there is an element of God there. I think the depiction of snakes in association with some of my favorite Hindu Gods has actually helped me get over the fear of snakes. The King Cobra still frequents my vision, most often when I get in the shower and close my eyes to let the wound up tensions in my body go. But I am not afraid of him. I respect him for what he is (he is a King after all). And if I met him for real, I wouldn't FEAR either staying still in common sense or bowing down to him in my religious sense. Either way, I don't think I will fight him, but I will let him decide what he wants to do. I am not afraid of what will happen right after...
I look up and think back 2 days. I was 30 minutes away from being on the bus to New York, the day before my exams. That is when I realized my wallet was sitting snug in his rightful place at home. He likes his place and I am sure he was extremely comfortable on a warm summer afternoon. Only it wasn't helping me or my uncontrollable wife. The drama that unfolded in the next hour or so was unnerving that I needed to take a nap all the way to New York, a 100 minute bus ride. But yes, I was on that bus to New York, sans my dear wallet.
How I have missed him in the last 2 days. Every often my hand would reach out to my back pocket (yet another of his comfortable resting places), only to remember that I had left him back home in Mt Laurel. So how did I manage to get to New York, spend 2 nights at a hotel, eat, ride the subway and even stop on the walkway at the Port Authority bus terminal to hand out a dollar to the old woman I see every time I pass that way? That is not another story, but the details are inconseqential. The essence my dear, is the absence of FEAR.
I am looking out into the sunlight gleaming off the stream of cars on the New Jersey Turnpike. They are not moving at the average 60 miles per hour. Now that causes some FEAR. I remember the last exam day of the first term (this one is the second). I was going home after the exam to get dressed up for a GALA that night and return to my favorite city, but a trailer truck on the NJTP that crashed into 7 or 8 other cars caused me to sit in a hot Greyhound Bus for 3 or 4 hours. But it is a FEAR that I will get over with patience. I have had plenty of that and may be it is just going to test me again.
It is strange how this FEAR now seems to be shifting from one place to another. I don't mind if I have to sit in this bus for a few hours but my FEAR is that my laptop's battery will drain in a finite amount of time and I will neither be able to continue writing, nor be able to listen to music (the battery on my MP3 player drained out last night!). And this is the NJTP. Not NH4 in India, where, if the traffic backs up a long way, soon there will be vendors of all kinds selling their wares from peanuts to hand held fans to the anxious travellers, who will also happily lap up items of interest. Yet again, my FEAR is, I have but 2 dollars left on my person. Dear Wallet, I have never missed you so much in my life. It's all of an hour that separates us and the traffic on the turnpike is threatening to make it a couple or more.
Luckily, we're moving (not stopped), even as I move from one FEAR to another. And right now, we are actually moving fast enough for me to move out of this FEAR on to the next one. Ah! There it is. My stomach growls. I realize I have not eaten lunch and if I don't get to my wallet on time and get some cash, I can't get close to food I need and that usually causes me a migraine. I wouldn't FEAR it so much if I could just go home and sleep it off. Right now, I can't. My car will be waiting for me at the Greyhound station in Mt Laurel and I will need to drive her to the beautiful city of Philadelphia where my wife and son and the one who I treat like my other son are waiting for me to go out and have a good time.
How I would like to go to Dunkin Donuts and sink my teeth into a egg-white flat bread sandwich right now. Now wait. Then there is the FEAR of cholesterol. It is like some kind of satan who is lurking around me and threatening me from having a good life and eating all my favorite food. How I restricted myself to only one aloo tikki yesterday at the Indian buffet lunch is a wonder I can't explain but I am certain that devil cholesterol has something to with it.
The battery sign on my laptop just dropped some blue and gained white. 31 minutes left, it says. Given that I am listening to music also through the laptop, I don't think the 31 will be a true 31, it may be even 13 and there is no running from that. Right now, it seems like crawling would even be better, because we have actually stopped. I look out the window to see if I can spot the peanut vendors. I can use some now. I can actually use a full Indian buffet right now. The choice really is between death by cholesterol and death by hunger. I'd like to push death out a little so it gives me a chance to fight back the cholesterol.
We are crawling. That is good. And I still have 26 mins before I lose sound and sight. I am desperately hoping I can catch a glimpse of the green sign that tells me what exit is next on the turnpike (before I lose my senses). But all I can see is the back of a huge bus that is drudging along right ahead of us. That the average seat area occuppied by the co-passengers on my left and right is one and a half is not helping either. Ah! I spot an exit. Alas! It is only a service area. And one that a Greyhound bus will not pull into. One that I will not know what to do in even if this bus pulls up into, thanks to penury.
I adjust my body a little into the half seat I have got. My right leg is sore from hanging out of the seat for the last hour and a half, but you know what, I am just being mean. The gentleman next to me probably did not do anything himself to be so large. In fact, he has been extremely decent (he was the only one who offered me the space next to him to hang from!).
We're actually moving. I don't know if it is a mirage and I certainly hope it isn't. The lanes on the turnpike have just merged (I mean the ones for trucks, buses and cars and the one for cars only), so my guess is it is at least another 30 miles to exit 4 and that's 30 minutes at a reasonable average of 60 miles per hour. I've been doing too much of math and stats lately and I can tell. 13 minutes to go on my laptop. I FEAR that I will lose all I wrote so I hit Alt F and S. Again!
The shuffle function on my MP3 player gave me a song I don't savor too much, so I chose another one. A true favorite. Rasave Unnai Nambi from Mudhal Mariyadhai. Orange light blinking, a sign of danger. Hopefully, this song will see itself through and I will go out in style. Right now, I FEAR I may not even get halfway through it. I am counting every second. At least the bus is moving at a fair clip, so my wait time right after I shut down won't be much. Well, how bad can it be. A few hours?
My laptop is threatening to hibernate and I gotta go. It's been a long bus ride and my laptop has stayed alive all the while giving me the pleasure of writing this and the music, so I can't complain. But just as I take my mind away from this for a moment, I realise how sweaty and stinky I am. And I am going to Penn's Landing for the Indian Independence Day celebrations, where there are supposed to be thousands of Indians today (and some beautiful women too!). Am I going to look good? Just my next FEAR...
I feel like writing today. Not that there is anything to write about. Not even that I am top of the world yet. I am trying to think why I want to write or what I feel. Only a strange kind of coincidence occurs to the mind. Today is India's Independence Day and today I feel a strange kind of independence myself.
Independence from some of the ghosts that have chased me for a very long time in life. I was telling my wife a couple of days back how her recent trip to India (being away for six weeks) was an awakening time for me. For one, this time I made better of my fear for staying alone. I still slept with the lights on in the pathway from the living room to the bedroom alright, but that's why I said I made better of my FEAR and not got away with my fear.
It's not just the physical FEAR of being alone. I can see how the FEAR of things unknown is fading out. Not to say I was not alarmed by the huge guy on the Broadway sidewalk last night who was walking ahead of me and suddenly turned around and said something. I am not even sure if he was talking to me, but all I know was I was walking faster towards the doors of my hotel which were less than a few paces away. That safety was at hand's reach was comforting.
It was not the case though on the other night in the same New York neighbourhood exactly 3 weeks ago. That was another Friday night, when I spent one hour, from midnight to 1 AM on the bench in the middle of Broadway at 94th, alongside a couple of homeless people. Not long ago, not even the day before that one, I would not have crossed the road to go to the other side if those same people were sitting there on that bench. I would have gone down the sidewalk on my side, a few blocks further even, to get to the famous tea and muchkins I so savor from Dunkin Donuts. That's another story...
I am just returning home after taking a second term exam and I am trying to think if I had FEAR of exams before. No. It was just a hatred for exams. I just did not want to take them, but I sure had the FEAR of failure. That was the killer, not only in my academic history, but on several counts in life. There was a time in my life when FEAR of failure did not let me seek what I wanted, did not let me ask for what I sought. That FEAR has gone too, I feel. Contrary to that FEAR, I feel it is the lack of that FEAR that is my bane now. I am not even afraid of making mistakes now. Actually, that is my only FEAR!
Not even snakes. No more can they frighten me. I like to believe there is an element of God there. I think the depiction of snakes in association with some of my favorite Hindu Gods has actually helped me get over the fear of snakes. The King Cobra still frequents my vision, most often when I get in the shower and close my eyes to let the wound up tensions in my body go. But I am not afraid of him. I respect him for what he is (he is a King after all). And if I met him for real, I wouldn't FEAR either staying still in common sense or bowing down to him in my religious sense. Either way, I don't think I will fight him, but I will let him decide what he wants to do. I am not afraid of what will happen right after...
I look up and think back 2 days. I was 30 minutes away from being on the bus to New York, the day before my exams. That is when I realized my wallet was sitting snug in his rightful place at home. He likes his place and I am sure he was extremely comfortable on a warm summer afternoon. Only it wasn't helping me or my uncontrollable wife. The drama that unfolded in the next hour or so was unnerving that I needed to take a nap all the way to New York, a 100 minute bus ride. But yes, I was on that bus to New York, sans my dear wallet.
How I have missed him in the last 2 days. Every often my hand would reach out to my back pocket (yet another of his comfortable resting places), only to remember that I had left him back home in Mt Laurel. So how did I manage to get to New York, spend 2 nights at a hotel, eat, ride the subway and even stop on the walkway at the Port Authority bus terminal to hand out a dollar to the old woman I see every time I pass that way? That is not another story, but the details are inconseqential. The essence my dear, is the absence of FEAR.
I am looking out into the sunlight gleaming off the stream of cars on the New Jersey Turnpike. They are not moving at the average 60 miles per hour. Now that causes some FEAR. I remember the last exam day of the first term (this one is the second). I was going home after the exam to get dressed up for a GALA that night and return to my favorite city, but a trailer truck on the NJTP that crashed into 7 or 8 other cars caused me to sit in a hot Greyhound Bus for 3 or 4 hours. But it is a FEAR that I will get over with patience. I have had plenty of that and may be it is just going to test me again.
It is strange how this FEAR now seems to be shifting from one place to another. I don't mind if I have to sit in this bus for a few hours but my FEAR is that my laptop's battery will drain in a finite amount of time and I will neither be able to continue writing, nor be able to listen to music (the battery on my MP3 player drained out last night!). And this is the NJTP. Not NH4 in India, where, if the traffic backs up a long way, soon there will be vendors of all kinds selling their wares from peanuts to hand held fans to the anxious travellers, who will also happily lap up items of interest. Yet again, my FEAR is, I have but 2 dollars left on my person. Dear Wallet, I have never missed you so much in my life. It's all of an hour that separates us and the traffic on the turnpike is threatening to make it a couple or more.
Luckily, we're moving (not stopped), even as I move from one FEAR to another. And right now, we are actually moving fast enough for me to move out of this FEAR on to the next one. Ah! There it is. My stomach growls. I realize I have not eaten lunch and if I don't get to my wallet on time and get some cash, I can't get close to food I need and that usually causes me a migraine. I wouldn't FEAR it so much if I could just go home and sleep it off. Right now, I can't. My car will be waiting for me at the Greyhound station in Mt Laurel and I will need to drive her to the beautiful city of Philadelphia where my wife and son and the one who I treat like my other son are waiting for me to go out and have a good time.
How I would like to go to Dunkin Donuts and sink my teeth into a egg-white flat bread sandwich right now. Now wait. Then there is the FEAR of cholesterol. It is like some kind of satan who is lurking around me and threatening me from having a good life and eating all my favorite food. How I restricted myself to only one aloo tikki yesterday at the Indian buffet lunch is a wonder I can't explain but I am certain that devil cholesterol has something to with it.
The battery sign on my laptop just dropped some blue and gained white. 31 minutes left, it says. Given that I am listening to music also through the laptop, I don't think the 31 will be a true 31, it may be even 13 and there is no running from that. Right now, it seems like crawling would even be better, because we have actually stopped. I look out the window to see if I can spot the peanut vendors. I can use some now. I can actually use a full Indian buffet right now. The choice really is between death by cholesterol and death by hunger. I'd like to push death out a little so it gives me a chance to fight back the cholesterol.
We are crawling. That is good. And I still have 26 mins before I lose sound and sight. I am desperately hoping I can catch a glimpse of the green sign that tells me what exit is next on the turnpike (before I lose my senses). But all I can see is the back of a huge bus that is drudging along right ahead of us. That the average seat area occuppied by the co-passengers on my left and right is one and a half is not helping either. Ah! I spot an exit. Alas! It is only a service area. And one that a Greyhound bus will not pull into. One that I will not know what to do in even if this bus pulls up into, thanks to penury.
I adjust my body a little into the half seat I have got. My right leg is sore from hanging out of the seat for the last hour and a half, but you know what, I am just being mean. The gentleman next to me probably did not do anything himself to be so large. In fact, he has been extremely decent (he was the only one who offered me the space next to him to hang from!).
We're actually moving. I don't know if it is a mirage and I certainly hope it isn't. The lanes on the turnpike have just merged (I mean the ones for trucks, buses and cars and the one for cars only), so my guess is it is at least another 30 miles to exit 4 and that's 30 minutes at a reasonable average of 60 miles per hour. I've been doing too much of math and stats lately and I can tell. 13 minutes to go on my laptop. I FEAR that I will lose all I wrote so I hit Alt F and S. Again!
The shuffle function on my MP3 player gave me a song I don't savor too much, so I chose another one. A true favorite. Rasave Unnai Nambi from Mudhal Mariyadhai. Orange light blinking, a sign of danger. Hopefully, this song will see itself through and I will go out in style. Right now, I FEAR I may not even get halfway through it. I am counting every second. At least the bus is moving at a fair clip, so my wait time right after I shut down won't be much. Well, how bad can it be. A few hours?
My laptop is threatening to hibernate and I gotta go. It's been a long bus ride and my laptop has stayed alive all the while giving me the pleasure of writing this and the music, so I can't complain. But just as I take my mind away from this for a moment, I realise how sweaty and stinky I am. And I am going to Penn's Landing for the Indian Independence Day celebrations, where there are supposed to be thousands of Indians today (and some beautiful women too!). Am I going to look good? Just my next FEAR...
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
How I got 36 hours in a Day!
How lucky am I that I got 36 hours in a day?
Quite lucky I must say, because I got a lot accomplished today.
"But how?", I 'm sure you are asking yourself.
It all started when my friend from the far-east first wished me Happy Birthday. My birthday is today, June 10, but this was just after noon on Tuesday, June 9. Well, the math is kinda simple. My friend lives in Singapore where it was already past 1200 AM on June 10 and so the wish was legitimate. And that is when it hit me that somewhere in the world, it is 12 AM even when it is only 12 Noon in the USA.
And after all it was my Birthday. So I decided to make every minute from that point on memorable, till my day actually ended at 12 midnight EST on June 10, 2009. And for those who are weak in math, that is a full 36 hours !!!
30 of those 36 are already past and I have had a great time indeed, every minute of the way. And I am sitting on my couch trying to plan the next six and how I can get the best out of them, while my wife is making cupcakes and my son has just made his 3rd birthday card for me.
How lucky am I, for having been given 36 hours in a day? Especially given that it is my 36th Birthday !!!
Quite lucky I must say, because I got a lot accomplished today.
"But how?", I 'm sure you are asking yourself.
It all started when my friend from the far-east first wished me Happy Birthday. My birthday is today, June 10, but this was just after noon on Tuesday, June 9. Well, the math is kinda simple. My friend lives in Singapore where it was already past 1200 AM on June 10 and so the wish was legitimate. And that is when it hit me that somewhere in the world, it is 12 AM even when it is only 12 Noon in the USA.
And after all it was my Birthday. So I decided to make every minute from that point on memorable, till my day actually ended at 12 midnight EST on June 10, 2009. And for those who are weak in math, that is a full 36 hours !!!
30 of those 36 are already past and I have had a great time indeed, every minute of the way. And I am sitting on my couch trying to plan the next six and how I can get the best out of them, while my wife is making cupcakes and my son has just made his 3rd birthday card for me.
How lucky am I, for having been given 36 hours in a day? Especially given that it is my 36th Birthday !!!
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