What does it take?

What does it take to stay away from Chocolate Cake?
What does it take to see a mess and not walk away?
What does it take to know you have work and not watch TV?
What does it take to have talent and not make it work?
What does it take to be nice in a world of jerks?
What does it take to believe in a goal and never sway?
What does it take to make your boss see your point?
What does it take to keep up the exercise?
What does it take to finish what you started?
Whatever it takes, that's what I'm gonna do...

Sleepless in Richmond, San Antonio & Atlanta...

I am the Problem!

I could have got more sleep any day of the week. The Hampton Inn at Midlothian in Richmond pampered me with a huge King Bed. But, they also pampered me with a huge flat screen TV. So every evening I went there this week I spent marathon hours watching mindless comedy shows that I never did any of the work I was supposed to do. And then I woke up at 3 am the next morning to complete the work because my client was expecting it at 8 am. The fact that I ate a full Indian meal before I went back to the Hampton did not help either. It only made me want the King Bed more.

Next stop San Antonio, Wednesday night. Having a 550 pm flight from Richmond that gets into San Antonio at 1010 pm is not a good idea, especially when you have stayed at the Hampton Inn the previous night. (Hello, HINT! HINT! I woke up at 3 am EST). Then when the connection is delayed at Houston and leaves there only at 1045 pm, it doesn't get any better. When you touch down at San Antonio at midnight CST and finally check in to your hotel at 1 am, exactly 23 hours after you woke up, the misery is complete.

Wait, not yet! Not when I suddenly realize I am hungry, also out of money, go 9 floors down to the lobby only to find out the ATM won't dispense any money (that too after taking me through the entire transaction), then I go back up to my room, scrape out the last 75 cents I have, go back up to the 10th floor, this time looking for a vending machine, desperately hoping that it would have something for 75c. Seriously? Dude. This is the Holiday Inn on the River Walk in downtown San Antonio. Nice try.

But then I get lucky. I find the Vannila cream cookie that is the solution to world hunger priced precisely at 70c. Sweet deal baby! I'm even getting 5c back so there's no stopping me. When I have consumed 4 of the 6 pack of cookies, I have wasted precisely one more hour of my sleep, albeit not a King Bed this time but 2 doubles. I realize it's been exactly 24 hours since I woke up. So now I hit the bed. Oh my God! Conference call at 630 am, breakfast meeting at 7 and an all day workshop coming up. Set the alarm for 6 am, no 530...

Sleep was not in scope for Thursday night even in the first place. My flight back home was not supposed to land until midnight and I had conference calls starting at 830 AM on Fri for which I needed to prepare (you do the math). But I started getting really dizzy when Delta airlines told me that my flight to Atlanta (connection) was delayed 2 hours and that I was not going to make my connection and so they would have to put me up at Atlanta for the night and fly me out to Philadelphia first thing in the morning. Now, I've done this before and I know how it works. We were supposed to land in Atlanta at 11 PM and I was thinking that if I had any luck I would get a full 3 hours of sleep before another long day.

My prediction was exactly right. I can't blame Delta though. They were super efficient this time (like Atlanta was on another planet or something). We touched down at 11 PM as re-scheduled and I was in my hotel room at midnight. The last time I had to do this, they took 2 hours just to assign me a hotel. I was quickly into a pair of comfortable clothes and sitting on the bed. My flight Fri AM was not until 730 AM for which I had to be in a shuttle at 6 AM. So there was a minimal 5 hour rest on offer and even a few more minutes if I could shower and change real quick.

I felt a little cold. I tried the A/C but it had no controls and was blowing cold air at full blast. I looked around to see if there was a thermostat somewhere on the wall but could not find any. I tried to tuck myself into the sheets and noticed that the sheets were too thin for a cold night like this. That was it. I could have easily blamed the cold air and the insufficient bedding for my sleeplessness. But it wasn't to be. It had to be me...

I slept that night at 215 AM and woke up at 520 AM because I decided I had to complete some work and reschedule some meetings I had planned for early AM on Fri. Strangely, a sense of responsibility seems to envelope me the closer I get to Friday. I went to great lenghts in those 2 hours to ensure I was up to date on everything and that my work was impeccable.

May be as a result of the sudden surge of work-consciousness, Friday was just perfect. My flight was on time, every meeting brought me the outcome I wanted from it and at 4 PM I was off to my favorite routine in recent times, taking my son to Boys Choir practice and goofing off at a coffee shop with a huge cup of hot chocolate. And not to forget, the perfect ending! Dinner in front of the TV and falling asleep on the couch...

It's 931 AM on Saturday. I am well rested and have already had 2 hot cups of tea (masala chai, to be precise). My son and I are snuggled on the couch watching cartoons while my wife is away at work. Looks like the perfect weekend has just begun...

It's Been a While...

It's been a while since I wrote. I've been writing other things, like project plans, powerpoint presentations and little prayer notes. No oil has been spared in my midnight lamp. Numerous missives have left my email outbox over the last few months while I have tried to stay afloat. It's been the busiest time of my life...

It's been a while since I ran. I've been running a different race alright. I've been running ideas through my mind, running errands and running from pillar to post. I have added some miles to my frequent flyer accounts, alright. Some have even given me Silver Status. Rest assured, it's been the only silver lining in the cloud...

It's been a while since I spent quality time with family and friends. I've spent a lot otherwise including what I will earn in the first quarter of next year. I've spent many sleepless nights doing meaningless work to meet the whims and fancies of my peers and customers, only to be told that I need to know how to say no and not take on more than I should. It's been a roller coaster ride...

It's been a while since I played. I played an important role in business meetings, at client visits and big project launches. Or, so i thought. I played the parts of driver, assistant, caddy, favorite whipping boy and sacrifical goat. Thank God, the part of toilet paper was excluded from the plot. I would have been the hot favorite...

It's been a while since I cried. I never cried when I was in pain. I always cried when a loved one was. I never cried when I was hurt. I always cried when I hurt one. I've never cried when I was sad, but I've always cried when I was happy. It's been a while since I was happy...

Perfect setting...

Gray Sunday afternoon. Delayed Denver flight. My favorite music plugged in my ears. Wait, I just shifted one seat left for a better view of the runway. Perfect setting for me to do one of the things I like doing most...

The sun is playing games. Appears every once in a while and then not. May be its the passing clouds. It looks like I am taking the isolated thunderstorms with me to Denver, at least according to weather.com.

I'm wondering if this is the time most airport stalls make most money, when flights get delayed. A couple is digging into their slices of cheese pizza, a girl seems to like her pretzel and diet coke combo, a lady just cleaned up a large portion of french fries and my neighbour just came back with more coffee.

An US air express flight has just taken off and I turn my gaze back into the crowd to check on the two best looking women I've seen in the waiting area so far. One is seated straight ahead of me, albeit a clear 4 or 5 rows away and the other is standing in sort of a line that is expectantly forming to my far left. It's good to know the positions haven't changed in a while. That means only 3 stops for my head in every round, runway to the right, straight up ahead and extreme left. I like to keep life simple.

What happens now if I get up to go to the men's room? I am sure to lose my vantage position, for it is an overcrowded waiting area. However, everything else will remain the same. I will still have my favorite music in my ears and I will still be writing this, thanks to technology and my Bold Blackberry.

I like the walk. But the man driving the cart for the old doesn't. Apparently he was screaming his head off for me to get out of his way but I didn't hear a thing, thanks to my music. But he worked around me and the nice lady on the cart gently pointed out to me what happened, so all is well.

I'm back but my vantage seat is gone. The good news is my flight is now at the gate and the incoming passengers are getting off. The lady at the podium just said we are going to be boarding soon. But I am in no hurry. I only have my back pack and I was lucky to get an aisle seat in front of the aircraft so I can literally amble in as the last passenger with nothing to worry.

I found a seat. The only view I retained is the runway, but who knows who's's going to be sitting next to whom on this plane! The sun just peeked and this time I'm directly in its path. That one moment of sunshine was refreshing, but I'm now back to the gray.

People are getting more anxious. Some are texting and emailing their dear ones to let them know they are delayed, some are even waving their boarding passes at the lady at the podium, lest something change and they be denied going to Denver. It's confusing enough that the sign above now shows the flight to Durham 2 hours hence. I confirmed that we are still on for Denver. Status quo, only more anxiety.

The music gets better. I love the song titles that start with T on my blackberry. 1st boarding call for all passengers needing assistance. I'm surprised I even heard the call because I am now on full volume listening to my favorite AR Rahman song ever.

The rustle begins. People are now walking down the ramp and more gathering near the podium. Some lights are now on outside. The gray will soon turn black. I'm trying to think how it will be when I land in Denver 4 hours from now. British Airways from London just landed. And everyone to my right just stood up completely blocking my view of the runway.

I could do this all day long. Especially on a day like this. But the waiting area is now clearing fast and the crowd down the ramp increasing. I got to walk lest I intend to go back home. I know my wife will be thrilled if I do but my boss won't. Tough choices people. Life's full of those.

So adios. Sayonara. Or whatever. As another lovely song pipes through my ears. And before I lose connectivity.

What? You want me to walk to my seat still typing this so you can find out who's sitting next to me? Read my next one my friend. Coming soon...

Of Dad and Son...

It's difficult to understand my son. Why does he worship me? I hardly do anything for him. First of all, I travel a lot so I am hardly there for him. All the cool stuff he does like websites, books, "Lego" leagues and the "Mad Science" camps is all taken care of by my wife. She spends endless hours nurturing him and fueling his dreams. Really, he is her full-time job. So when he is asked to write an essay about "Who should be the next President of the United States" or "Who is the person who has impacted you most and how", and when he has only one answer, "My Dad", it truly surprises me.

Today was kind of a rude wake up call. For the second day running, he refused to go for a 5 PM showing of Cars 2, whose release he has been eagerly awaiting for a long time. "The reason", he said, "is I want to go to the park and play cricket with Appa". I have been recovering from illness over the long weekend and asked him if he can just go play with his friends and he said, "No Dad, I want to play with you". So I mustered all the strength I had and rode along to the park. Luckily a couple of his friends were already there so they started playing themselves. Just as I thought I will sit on the benches and enjoy the evening, he said, "Appa, can you field?".

I ambled across the grass and stationed myself somewhere between 2nd and 3rd base on the converted cricket field, from where I had a full view of everything. The boys were hitting the ball well but I was well positioned so I could always walk and retrieve the ball, on a day when running was simply out of question. It was then that it hit me. My Dad is my role model.

I grew up in modest middle-class Chennai in the 1980s. Both my parents had to work to support our huge joint family and my father was missing in action most of the time too. He would be gone for weeks sometimes, touring all parts of India, and we didn't even have realiable long distance calling within India, forget the modern amenities of today. Some times he would write us letters and most times he would arrive back home to receive the letter himself, such was the state of the Indian Postal Service. But, he always brought back something. Mostly it would be sweets for the family (wheat halwa from a Delhi sweet shop was a favorite), but sometimes there was special stuff for me. I will never forget my first white cricket sweater, a pair of nice cricket shoes and my first own table tennis racket. All three were very special to me and lasted me a long long time.

It was not what he brought back. It was what he was, and still is. He always rose at 5 AM. He would brew fresh coffee to last a couple of rounds for the big family. He was disciplined about his routine and encouraged all of us to be on time. He always dressed right for work and worked really hard. But most of all, he put others above himself. He was always the last to eat at a party, he was always the last to buy clothes for Diwali. Whether we were taking a rare vacation or we went to watch a test match at Chepauk, he always made sure that the children had food of their like. No matter how many times he had to wake up at night to take care of us when we were sick or even to turn on the bathroom light, he never complained. Why, there were times he had to put others' children above his own, but he took care of them like his own, that they remain indebted to him for life.

My son and I fight all the time. "My Dad is better than your Dad", I tell him. "No, he's not", he says. "Yes, he is", I push him on and then he climbs on me and pounds me while he squeals, "No, no, no, no, no, no...". His dad is his hero, but I sure am right about this one. As I walked across the grass to pick up the ball, it hit me today. I was not there for him for the first five years of his life, working nights and up to 14 hours a day. And though we then moved to the US and I started working days, I also started travelling. I don't do many of the things my Dad did for me. But something I do does it for him. I can't say what it is. Cricket is only a recent passion for him, though I'm sure it's big on his list right now. It could be the bear hugs, the international lullabies or my repeatedly saying, "you're my favorite person in the whole world".

I will never really know which one it is. But I sure did wake up to something today. He is giving me a real chance to be his role model and it is up to me to take it. And all I have is a small window of opportunity. I've got to be there for him, I've got to work harder and I've got to be always right in his eyes. As I sit here writing this at 1045 PM, I realize how hard that can be. Even though I'm sitting next to him on his bed, he's reading "Why is the Sky Blue", with his mother. I will sleep here in a few but will be up at 3 AM to be on a shuttle at 5 AM and be on the road for the next couple of days. I wished my Dad "Good Night" a little while ago and he assured me he will be up to make me my first cup of coffee.

Aha! It's all so clear now, not tough any more. I just have to do for my Son what my Dad did for me. Still does and always will. It's that easy...

Solstice...

Jun 21, otherwise known as Summer Solstice is the longest day in the northern hemisphere. That is public knowledge. What is not public knowledge is that the day has turned out be true to its name for me. What began at 445 am est (after only a 4 hour sleep) has still not ended at 1145 pm cst as I have just boarded Continental flight 2450 from Houston to San Antonio and I will land there just as it strikes midnight in that zone. I have to say the long day has been a productive one and also one with some very pleasant experiences. And as always full of love from my family.

What is also public knowledge is that Jun 21 marks the official beginning of summer. And what is of consequence to my family and us alone is that it was officially the last day of school for my son. Which means that for the next 2 months and more, my wife has a full time job of minding him from dawn till dusk and it is of no consolation that the days will continue to run long. There will be Wii, TV, evenings of cricket at the park and trips to the beach if we are lucky. But more importantly, there will be the struggle of what we think he should be doing everyday and what he thinks!!!

The doors of my aircraft will shut here in a moment and I will have to turn my cell phone off, but even as I wind up on Jun 21 or Summer Solstice, I have this feeling that I too am about to embark on a significantly long journey in my life, in search of my destiny. And something tells me that while it may be a long wait, I am about to simply enjoy the ride...

Nine days to go in beautiful "June" and lots more to do...

Wishing everyone a wonderful summer ahead.

Sh*t...

One of the least conspicuous (but most meaningful) items in my home is a green bamboo basket that is placed next to the pot in my bathroom. (If you're not into "gross" I suggest you leave this page right now because this is only going down the drain from here!)

The green basket holds a lot. A couple of newspapers, couple of Tinkle comics, sometimes a Reader's Digest and always the book that I am currently reading. Lest you get funny ideas about my reading habits, let me just spill the guts and say, every morning when it's pot time I catch up on my daily reading. It's usually short and occurs at a time when my family is still asleep so it really doesn't cause anyone any harm. Sometimes, especially on weekends, and if the book is in its nail-biting parts, that could be a much longer time and that's when the green basket becomes the object of my wife's ire.

Yesterday I finished reading my last one, a high school masala called "When it Happens". Coincidentally, yesterday was also Father's Day so my sweet son presented me with a book that I had recently read from our local library's "7 days only" section and simply loved that I wanted a copy for myself. It could not have been a better gift and I was so happy that my son was so thoughtful. Gotta love him.

So today, I replaced "When it Happens" with my new book in the green basket (no disrespect to my dear son here, I still love him and he's my favorite person in the whole world). But again, it made so much sense. That's the purpose of the green basket, I just finished reading my last book (perfect timing) and to top it all, the name of the book is "Sh*t My Dad Says". I mean, how much better can this get?

If you haven't read this book, I whole-heartedly suggest it. It's hilarious. Actually that's an understatement. Trust me, I wouldn't buy my own copy if I don't see myself reading a book over and over again. So you can imagine how many times this book will make it to the green basket and how perfect my home is going to look. Talk about homes that have a theme...

As far as my son goes, is he going to feel bad to see where his precious Father's Day gift went? Sure, he is. And he is going to be furious to see I even blogged about it. But hey! Look at the bright side. I just gave him his first chance at instant fame too. Now he has the opportnity to write his own book - "Sh*t My Dad Reads".

P.S. My son is all of 9 years and has no idea of the contents of Justin Halpern's classic. He's a good kid and will always be my favorite person in the whole world...