Thinking Machine

Beautiful words

2011-12-04T00:20:00.001+05:30

We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them - Kahlil Gibran

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight - Kahlil Gibran

But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls - Kahlil Gibran

In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on - Robert Frost

Sometimes the promise of what lies beneath is more tantalizing than baring it all - Don’t know

We are what we repeatedly do - Don’t know

Mil jaye to MITTI hai...kho jaye to SONA hai - Don’t know

A Rainy Day in Delhi

2011-10-23T19:24:00.000+05:30

It was pouring in Delhi and my cabwas moving at a speed of 1 inch/hour. The words of cab driver changed from – ‘Three hours is a lot of time sir. We willeasily reach airport by 4 PM’ to ‘Itold you sir we should have taken the other route ’.

But it had been an incredible dayfor me and I continued to beat life. The flooded roads and snarling trafficcould not stop me from reaching airport back on time. Ambling on the walkalatorI saw passengers lining up at gate number 45. The departure of IT 343 was beingannounced. I was tired but not as much as I was happy. Life was fast, furious andbeautiful since the previous evening.

It was the fourth meeting of theday and I was struggling to stay awake. Manish’s email popped up and it stirredme enough. It was a reminder to check the status. It was Thursday, 8^thSeptember and the last hope. I entered details online and to my delighted-confusion the text abruptlyended – ‘Passport received from FrenchEmbassy. Please collect on.’ I burped.

‘What does this text mean?’

Any other normal thinking mind wouldhave read it as – ‘Visa is ready, have awonderful trip to Paris’. But it was mine which has a penchant foranalyzing absolutely trivial things.

With a very determined intent toclarify all my doubts, I dialed the customer care number. Yes, I was right. Itwas clarified and ascertained that life mocks at me at will, a little more whenthe topic of discussion is foreign travel. It was 6 PM and the call centre wasclosed. Amidst all uncertainties, onething was clear – With or without Visa, I had to collect my passport. So requestedManish to book the early morning Hyderabad-Delhi flight.

It was raining very heavily inDelhi. I reached the Visa office at Nehru place a little ahead of scheduled time.At the collection point, I was given an envelope. I tore it with all my mightand quickly opened my passport. I saw what I wanted – A glossy page with multi-entrySchengen Visa. I was happy, very happy.

I have to mention this to all myreaders. After the agonizing experience I had with US Visa, this was trulywonderful. I was scheduled to travel to Paris on Sunday the 11^th ofSeptember. The only way this could happen is to get Visa latest by Friday, 9^thSeptember, the last working day. With every passing day, my hopes waned. But Iwas always telling myself, whether I fly or not, what was important for me isVisa. Because I sincerely hoped that countries worldwide will increasingbelieve that I am harmless and all my future Visa applications will be hasslefree (fingers crossed). Never know what problem they will have with my name andreligion.

Whatever, for now, I was all setto visit the fashion capital of the world and importantly a new country thisyear.

I hurriedly entered into the cab whilequestioning the cab driver, ‘We willreach airport by 4 PM, right?’

The Joy of Handwriting

2011-08-02T22:52:00.004+05:30

I wrote five pages on a trot. I don’t remember when I last used as much ink in my pen. It gave me indescribable satisfaction taking me into flashback (yes, those black whirling circles on white background)…..

She quickly walked into the class carrying a sober expression on her face. The usual cute smile on her round face was clearly missing. It was an easy guess for all 58 of us - a deceptive calm concealing the imminent storm.

Nagabushnam and Vinay followed her carrying a pile of note books each. Getting books, chalk and duster from staffroom, borrowing cane from neighboring class teacher, noting down the names of talkative students were the top job responsibilities of class leaders. There were three leaders to manage the three rows in my class. I was the third one. That evening I preferred staying back in class which allowed me to utter a silent prayer one extra time. Mary teacher was about to announce the names of students selected for the handwriting competition. The year was 1991 and I was in my 3^rd grade.

‘Abidaaali is the only one selected for the handwriting competition’, she said in an angry tone.

I was more embarrassed than amused on hearing this. All I prayed was to be one of the selected ones, not the only one.

‘Show your notebook to everyone bench by bench’, she ordered.

It could not get clumsier than this for me. I had only one option, to oblige. With a trust-me-I-am-hating-this look I mechanically moved from bench to bench displaying the page which had two ‘very goods’ and one ‘excellent’. ‘Did I over pray?’, ‘Is God punishing for not sharing water bottle with Humayun?’, the thoughts kept churning.

My handwriting is very much of old English style with all the bends and curves. Filling scores of cursive handwriting books played an important role. I was far ahead than my peers in primary school days. As time passed, all my classmates developed a great art of writing neat (like pearls, as they say). But I always took pleasure and pride in writing cursive.

Complete credit to my dad who took extraordinary interest during my formative years of schooling. He used to assign a one page home work daily during vacation before he left for work. The inspection use to happen near to midnight when he returned back home. It used to be a dreadful experience. Bashing, tearing of pages and re-writing were common. But it immensely helped my sister and me in setting very high standards at that tender age.

The pen and paper experience has a special charm. Even during my graduation days I never imagined that their usage will be curtailed so drastically. I still try to write a bit wherever possible – to-do notes, a bit of dairy, while explaining any little thing and of course cheques. But it is all about mighty technology now and why not? How would it have been possible for my pages in dairy to reach friends across the world if it was not a laptop, MS Office, Blogspot, Facebook, Gtalk etc. etc.?

Life Aaj-Kal

2011-07-22T03:13:00.005+05:30

Back resting on a pillow inclinedat an angle of roughly -30 degrees to the bedhead, legs completelystretched and one over the other, a pillow on the lap over which a laptop ismounted. This is my usual posture whenever I read or write on a computer. Thewarmth of its base is so irritating that I often feel like thrashing it againstthe wall. Had it not been an office given one, I might have done it by now (I amlying).

Making notes in a word document usingall the fancy tools to beautify, hurriedly swapping across facebooks, gtalks,opening outlook every time an office email pops up, emails from nakuris,monsters etc. etc. have all made the writing(?) experience so artificial. Allthese can be easily avoided but it requires discipline which will cost me amillion dollars which I cannot afford. So instead, I used a pen and book.

I wrote five pages on a trot. Idon’t remember when I last used as much ink in my pen. It gave me indescribablesatisfaction taking me into flashback (yes, those black whirling circles onwhite background)…..

She quickly walked into the class carrying a sober expression on her face.The usual cute smile on her round face was clearly missing. It was an easyguess for all 58 of us; it was a deceptive calm concealing the imminent storm…..(to be continued)

With this I commence ‘LifeAaj-Kal’, an attempt to relive the best days of my life. I fervently hope thatit doesn’t fizzle out soon.

Pervasive Innovation

2010-12-16T00:39:00.003+05:30

---- Prelude: My article on company blog. First one on a serious note. I will aim to write such sedative articles more consistently as I am now more close to research and customer pulse. If not anything, I promise, these should drive you to deep sleep.

Cheers!

‘When the world starts to move from a primarily vertical (command and control) value-creation model to an increasingly horizontal (connect and collaborate) creation model, it doesn’t affect just how business gets done. It affects everything’ –The World is Flat, Thomas L. Friedman.

Not very long ago firms were happy reaping profits by just focusing on local markets, competing with local players or enjoying the status of monopoly. Massive regulatory, geographical and technological barriers ensured longevity of such a regime. But recently, we have seen these barriers crumble, changing the rules of the game. As the world gets flatter and flatter with technological advancements, economies are increasingly embracing the collaborative mode of working. To summarize, there has been an unprecedented strategic shift.

Collaboration will inevitably lead to learning and unlearning. Multinational presence of firms is pushing this trend further. To improve the bottom line, subsidiary firms have no option but to emulate global practices. This forms the basis of my discussion – Pervasive Innovation. Firms from BRIC group (Brazil, Russia, India and China) and other emerging economies in APAC are looking for innovative solutions to gain a competitive edge. ERP has been one such innovation which companies are finding irresistible especially for tighter integration in the supply chain. For major ERP vendors, APAC-Japan have become the most sought after markets. One reason for this change could be that western markets have started to mature, but primarily it is because of increased trading and an emphasis on increasing efficiencies in new markets. This trend is not limited to developed and now developing economies. Within each of these, the major propellant has been the SME (small and medium enterprise) segment. Close to 55-60% of SAP’s worldwide revenues come from SME segment. The desire to innovate is just ubiquitous!

In any organization cost-benefit analysis is an indispensable tool to evaluate any solution. However, in the case of developing economies and the SME segment, it becomes extremely critical. In my next write up, I will discuss my experiences with firms from these regions and how ERP vendors, enterprise solutions like Winshuttle care to play a Samaritan’s role.

Death Rehearsal

2010-11-08T23:33:00.000+05:30

They were around me. Raghav rubbingmy feet, Srini holding my hands and others recounting how fatal the wholesituation turned out. I was gasping for breath, wincing in pain while trying tocome in terms with a surreal experience I endured few moments ago.

The river was ambling at a gentlepace for some distance before submitting itself to gravity -Bhoom-A steep fall. We chose a placewhere it was shored by stones. I was on my last outing with my lovely team fromIBM on July 22nd of 2006. We were a bunch of brats, absolute fun loving whopreferred eating and speaking only Non-Veg! Poor Shilpa Dasarakottapally wasthe only girl exemplifying a fleeting drizzle or may be a lonely Cactus in abarren desert.

The river at Mekadatu, about 100 kms from Bangalore

As usual, I was sitting semi-clad,happily hurling pranks at those who were posing in water. It was all fun until thatfateful moment. Jinny pulled me into water with his mighty arm around my neck andstarted making circles. Apparently the cheers all around pumped up hisconfidence and he lost focus on what lay ahead. Only I knew that I was strugglingand unsuccessfully tried to free myself. Panic rushed in when I realized Icould not feel the bottom of river any more. It meant I was completelydepending on Jinny’s tight hold to stay afloat. It was painful but only anchorfor me to stay calm. Breathing became difficult with each passing moment. Bynow fear took over me completely. I started holding Jinny with all my might,flapping my feet madly hoping to find some base. He thought he had control overthe situation until our glued bodies started coasting towards high velocityzone of water.

Expressions changed on faces which were thus far thinking it to be all fun. Smiles disappeared. Joyfulscreams gave way to desperate shouts. Prahlad, the master swimmer got intoaction trying to hold us back. But Jinny’s enormous body +40% extra (that’s me)was not easy for him to handle and flaunt his heroics which he usually does. MoreoverJinny hooked to him which made him lose his control. Joe our manager joined in.Sadly, it was not the IBM office on 2^nd floor-C Wing, Prestigetowers where he could strategize a project plan. It was freaking water at itsdiabolical best. What poor Joe could all do is, volunteer himself as anotherring to the drowning chain of software nerds and help a budding journalist fromDeccan herald with some sensational news for next day. I remember shouting myvoice out, finally giving up when I completely drowned. I clenched my fingershaplessly looking for a grip, but all they could get is water slipping through.I knew I was dying. The foreplay was on - Faces of all my family members werepassing through my mind like a reel. Doesit happen with everyone? It’s impossible to cross-check this fact with anyonewho successfully completed this weird journey from life to death. Is it becauseof my voracious aptitude for fiction? I read something like this and my mindaccepted it happens this way? All I was looking for was an ounce of air tobreathe. The pictorial reel ceded and my senses ceased to work for a good fewseconds. Dumb creatures, they atleast acted so, silently enjoying the imminentfreedom from a thinking machine. But their merry was short lived. The fact thatI am sharing this melancholic tale means they are still enslaved. How did ithappen? Pure divine providence, a hand,a hand of God reached out from shore. Srinivas, true to his name, played a godly act. Joe quickly took inSrini’s hand and the human chain drifted towards the shore. Further details canonly be explained by the audience who watched a high intensity drama all for free.On any other day, a little more than gentle breeze would have blown Srini away,but it was truly his day, he was the hero, our savior. The hand of God saved mewhilst I was staring into the eyes of death.

Every time this thought strikes,a deadly scare makes me shudder. My feet still crave for the base they werecrying for in deep water. I never get near water now. I am sure there should besome strong reason for me to see this day. I am waiting to see what missionalmighty has planned to accomplish through me. Ammi has a role in almost everypost, here she comes – While returning back that night, the mobile was ringing– ‘Kya hua?, Subah se call nai kiya kaiku?, kithapareshan kartha tu beta. Paani mein tho nahi gaya na? Nakko bolto sunta ichh nai’,she said. ‘Nai Ammi, mein theek hoon,badh mein call karoonga’, I said, switching off the mobile staring into thedarkness.

A Perfect Date

2010-09-15T15:08:00.016+05:30

It’s not often that life throws at us few pleasant surprises whose snapshots will be captured in our mind for ever. One such experience was a perfect date with her. Needless to say, I wish it happens again.

‘Goo straaaight, first lefth, lasth room', she said and I thanked her. ‘Aaah, naat a praablem’, she replied while I was already on my way she directed. I stopped at room no. 318, fiddled with the key and when it finally opened, toppled in almost trampling my specs as they fell onto the floor. It should have been a blistering hot day at Chandigarh, but at Hotel Hard Rock, Orlando, Florida, 16th of May was a great-for-a-date kind of evening. But my mind is a strange beast, it already started whispering – ‘Allz-not-well’, ‘Allz-not-well’. Being together for 25+ years, bonding between all my parts is outstanding. They all started singing in unison – ‘Stomach- is-not-well’. First thing I looked for was bathroom.

No matter how many switches I turned on, the lighting was very gloomy. I hated these incandescent lights all my life. I always imagined them spewing all the ominous things at me. I get nauseated in no time. I switched off everything except for a bed lamp and slid the window curtains. I ate almost nothing for 24 hours in my journey from India via London. It was a question of survival now. Reached out for the menu and the items I found belong to this genre– rabbit roast, fry bread, moose steak, venison stew. I anxiously looked for the 4 letter word R.I.C.E, and was on cloud 729 (nine cubed!) when I found one. But it was definitely not in the form I want. Called up the chef and he was very concerned. I just said ‘Stomach terribly upset, I want rice with simple vegetables and lime water’. God bless him, he provided just what I was dying for. I ate in a complete peace-max-and-satisfactory mode. Called up Kristen and asked her to mark me absent for team dinner. The cozy bed, the jet lag, the urge to rest, all swayed me to a blissful sleep.

The next day started with arey-mein-tho-hero-ban-gaya type of feeling. Had a massaging bath and walked out towards hotel lobby through the maze of silent corridors. It was abnormally silent till I spotted a tall grave old man with milky white skin wearing a long hat. He walked towards me with all the seriousness he could muster until he was a foot away. Suddenly he bent and said – ‘Good Morning’ and kept walking away. It scared me for a split second and I blurted – ‘Morninnggg’, heaved a sigh and kept walking but a bit slowly, turning back twice to make sure he is no more in sight. With a rattled mind as I stepped into the elevator, a waft of stunning fragrance welcomed me. Even more stunning was a beautiful lady in business formals. She as well surprised me, but in a lot pleasant manner –‘Morning, how are you doing today?’. ‘Fantastic, fantastic’, I said as we walked out, unable to utter anything else. Now it was confirmed, people greet here even to strangers. I liked it and it took less than 5 seconds to implement it. ‘Good morning Amy, how are you doing today?’, I said, quickly glancing at the badge of receptionist.

I literally fell for the awesome weather which fondled me in her pristineness. More than any other damn thing, a non-hot weather with cold gentle breeze interlaced with drizzle, makes me a child again. It was exactly this way each day and I was living a dream. Despite living in most torrid conditions for a quarter of a century I am so much allergic to sunshine. A/C at work made things worse, actually worrusstt! The pic is in the campus of University of Washington. I seriously regretted for a while for not thinking of pursuing MS.

Liking number 3 was the concerted effort of the public in ensuring that the country remains clean. It clearly reflects the sense of belonging. I am sure sparse population makes it easy to maintain. But I confess one aspect which I detest about my country is the lack of this feeling. Public places are used like shit, period.

Take-it-easy attitude which people carry here is exemplary. They seem to just enjoy what they are doing respecting every kind of profession. Work in morning/night and go to college in day/morning, fend for yourself while thoroughly enjoying the whips and nestles of life - real cool thing I say (green grass on other side?).

Finally biggest eye opener was the love and care parents have for children here. All my misconceptions were washed away. Apparently parent’s love doesn’t inhibit child to develop all-around personality. The child in the adjacent pic slided down atleast from a height of 40 feet, swam against the water current to get high-five from his instructor all while his parents were on the bank. My mum would have stood right at the bottom of the slide to catch me come what may and shower kisses and tight slaps all at the same time (provided I sneaked to anywhere near water!). This kid rightly embarrassed me saying – ‘What are you doing there?, come in’. I grabbed him for a kiss and a snap and said to myself – ‘No son, my mum just loved me too much’.

The timing of my trip was perfect, and of course anything short is inevitably enduring, but the fact is, United States of America, I had few of the best days in my life with you. With a sense of pride, I mark COMPLETED against the to-do item for this year – Visit a foreign land.

Mr. Powell, Thanks but no thanks

2010-06-26T00:38:00.005+05:30

I ambled, sat squat legged on the cement slab which was still warm enough to hurt my butt, stared at the handicapped kid trying to walk over bridge with his brother’s help, made friends with the kids-Amit, Sumit and Paras, kicked the ball and waved bye to them. It was 10.10 PM and I was sure Chawla general store from where I usually buy water bottles will be closed. I needed water to survive yet another long lonely heated night. Got lucky this time, the shop in the Shivalik Park was still open and I bought a bottle of water, coke and pop corn. Sat on a chair in a dark corner and gulped the chilled water. Got pensive yet again, long time I have written a blog post, I thought. Munched more pop corn, this time with more vigor, coke was stronger than I expected. I started feeling better, the ephemeral positive energy was doing rounds and I stoked it. I needed it badly, the longer it stayed, the better I felt. ‘Any seldom-good-and-often-bad exciting incident happened in life in recent past?', I asked myself. Last few ml of coke were left, pop corn already over. My senses started conversing and finally they decided I have enough to write one. I picked up the flakes of corn which fell down, send them down the USE ME box along with the coke bottle and walked towards house number 22/1, galli-number-3, my abode for last 12 months.

‘Using our products you can do your job in 3 hours which otherwise will take 3 weeks’, I asserted while giving my 9th demo for the day. I was tired and hungry and no mood to cajole another potential customer. I asked Marc to take over and I went to have some food. I picked a bowl of fruits and a glass of water with lots of ice and walked aimlessly till my tired eyes fell on the giant screen. It was General Badin Powell speaking - ‘Let’s show the world that our security is our primary concern..’ he said as I quickly followed a flock of SAP geeks into a hall where he was addressing a very large audience. He was the key note speaker at SAPPHIRE’10@Orlando(annual SAP user conference). His life is no ordinary, a man with exemplary achievements and credence; I was excited to see him speak live. ‘After the 9/11 attacks, we revisited our entire security system……’, he was touching upon something sensitive. ‘US embassy offices across the world have been upgraded with latest IT, we connected them with the fastest of internet using optical fibers…’. He continued while I was finding it increasingly difficult to stop yawning. ‘And we made it clear that the VISA will never be easy again for people from Pakistan, Afghanistan and Middle East and of course Moslems (Muslims)….’. There was a round of applause after every patriotic comment he made. I remained indifferent and when finally tiredness took over I moved out. As I walked back, I realized, I have just got the answer for few frustrating questions lingering in my mind for a while – Uttam, Bohra and me were in same line with same documents and reason, yet they got their VISA and not me, Why? - Same office, same reason for travel like Ritika but a long wait of 4 months-Why?.

'I agree Mr. Powell that you were forced to enforce such a change and may be my name matched with some damn grief stricken terrorist. But I thought every law (natural or man-made) has some exception. You should have allowed a decently harmless student from India’s best Business school invited by the Dean of the best Business school of your land (Stanford), duly recommended by honorable local congressman of the mighty United States of America and endorsed by the elite academicians. I wrote emails and kept writing, called up desperately at your embassy office, and all I get to know is my VISA is in pending administration status. No information can be shared nor can it be expedited.' Visa became a distant dream until that afternoon in DLF building when a courier guy stopped and asked 'Sir, eh Winshuttle naam ki company kahan hain', I smiled when I saw the parcel on my name in his hand.

The Great Indian Muslim Wedding

2010-03-31T20:14:00.010+05:30

Bus number AP-36, 7689 was heading to Secunderabad and our destination was Tarnaka. I was furious on Ammi as Baba got us into this non-ac bus which stops at every possible bus-stop (but why on Ammi?, just because I can’t vent out my anger on Baba and she is my sweet heart who soaks in all my stupidity). 'Please get them down at Tarnaka bus stand and help them with the luggage’, Baba told the driver forth time as I said bye to him with those I-will-gulp-you-in-single-bite looks.
Bubbling in artificial anger I avoided eye contact with Ammi for a while but in a few minutes happily dozed off on her lap while she caressed my hair. We were on our way to attend my dear friend Rehan's wedding. Me attending marriages is a rarity but this time I was keen to witness a Muslim wedding, more closely and consciously.

We just reached in time for the bridegroom-making-ceremony. I was expecting Rehan to wear *Sehra, the trade-mark of a groom seen in other Indian communities. But in terms of weight Muslim Sehra has unassailable lead. Easily it increases body weight by 10%. In hot scorching summers, the groom will understand the functioning of a blast furnace like never before. Rehan was lucky enough to escape this but not the chores of being introduced to a long line of guests. I watched him posing for photographs with unflagging enthusiasm. The line was real big and my intestines were screaming. To placate them my legs hurried to dining hall. For carnivorous animals like me, Muslim wedding is a paradise. It’s not just about the long list of items but also the taste. On the day of *Nikah, I ate to the extent of having a bout of diarrhea but still sustained the same levels of enthusiasm even for *Valima. Gods were on my side, they knew I was starving for good food in the land of Rajma and Paneer.

*Dowry is all pervasive in Indian ethos and Muslim community is no exception. But 40 *tolas of gold is beyond my imagination. As an MBA, I say Gold is the safest bet in investment perspective especially when markets tumble. But if these 40 tolas are precursor of many more kilograms to follow, I see it as an absolute sunk cost. Will the bride ever wear it all? My future in-laws, here I say, I prefer liquid cash :P.

One unique feature of Muslim wedding is segregation of men and women into different sections. Even the bride and groom are not together, not even during Nikah. May be this separation serves as a catalyst to glue them together for next seven births. For unmarried eyes prowling for feminine species it is horrendous experience. Indubitably woman epitomizes beauty and it embellishes further in company of a man. Hence I opine this segregation is uncalled-for. As I was planning to stay with Prad that night I had to meet Ammi which meant crossing the border. I could see the glint in her eyes as she spotted me. I am nothing less than Mercedes Class S for her and occasions like these form perfect platform for me to be put for interactive display or may be a prospective sale. She took me in and the first thing which caught my attention was the glistening attire. This is very common amongst Muslim women and no better occasion than marriages to flaunt them.

‘Aapa, mera beta’, I was introduced to a lady in ultra-red sari with glitters which exemplifies tare-sari-pe. ‘Salaam karo beta khala ko’, Ammi said. Even without a slightest hint as to how we are connected I obliged with a fake smile. ‘Ittha sa tha jab Jaibun ki shaadi mein dekhi’, she continued while I was wondering what could be the weight of her necklace.‘Suna hain bada padhai karre, Ab dawat kab doge?’, now even Ammi looked at me with quizzical eyes. ‘Bus jaldi, aap aane ki tayari shuru karna khala’, I ducked the question and nudged my Ammi to move on.

While this conversation was on there were atleast 100 eyes staring at me which made me nervous. Thanks to the fact that headquarters of our biological system is located in our mothers, Ammi already got SOS signals. She quickly completed the introductions with this-kid-is-impossible expression on her face and I heaved a sigh of relief as I stepped out.

As I walked towards Prad through the silent corridor, a cold thought struck me – Roles will be swapped soon. So what? I jerked my head, ruffled my hair and felt happy to have enough stuff to scribble another post on my blog.

Notes:

Sehra-barrier made of flowers hanged in front of bridegroom's face;Nikah-Marriage;Valima-Reception;1 tolla=11.7 gms. Also, the dowry thing I specified is based on what I overhear in general, not specific 2 any marriage in vogue or broken.

Why so many legs are pained?

2010-03-22T20:28:00.010+05:30

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Mumbai’s Chatrapathi Shivaji international airport. Outside temperature is just enough to tan your skin and is expected to rain cats and dogs in next 10 hours. We hope you had a comfortable travel with us and will look forward to serve you with many more such utterly-no-frills-yet-enjoyable experiences for all eternity’, the head stewardess’ announcement woke me up from a deep slumber. ‘Please keep your mobile phones switched off…’, she continued in her heavenly voice.

It has been just a microsecond since the plane landed and I already see my fellow passengers struggling to decouple their butts from the seats. Within few seconds they get their hand baggage and impatiently stand to deplane. I have seen this behavior in every single flight I have boarded and needless to say it has aroused enough curiosity in me. This time I kept a constant eye on my watch and also people- It took full 5 minutes for the doors to open. I see people exchanging glances. A Punjabi woman staring at a foreigner’s blonde hair. A real fat Marwari uncle in his gold coated spectacles checking his cab driver on phone. A Telugu speaking guy irked at his wife who seems to be annoyingly concerned about his lunch. ‘Chepte neeku kada, pettayi phone’, he slammed his phone down. The man in suit with his hands on the seat and fingers supporting his chin was staring into infinity (or may be the air hostess on the far end?). The aunt and her beautiful daughter who sat beside me were about to follow the rest. This meant I had to work against the gravity as I was on aisle seat. I was successful in politely convincing them that there is no point in standing.

I find these moments extraordinarily incomprehensible. I am sure most of them are not first time travelers. They know it takes few minutes before doors open but still they prefer standing and aimlessly gape at each others heads or do things which they can happily do seated. There is hardly any incentive for getting down early. Is this a habit which got carried forward from train journey? Lazybones like me sit back, yawn, observe people and keep wondering –‘Why so many legs are pained?’

The E-Mail

2010-01-26T19:40:00.000+05:30

Prelude:

29 April, 2007 1:58 PM, 2nd floor, ORACLE India office, Hyderabad.

It was Sunday and I was basking in the ultimate success of my life till then - IIM Bangalore selection. I think I was in office to provide weekend support. I sneaked some time in sending an e-mail which has been one of my favorites. It was purely driven by 100% Shudh Happiness. A perfect coordination between mind and hand- Fingers obliged everything which the mind dictated. In the hindsight I am in awe as to how middle-class family aspirations, brand value, political gimmicks can make a simple exam-results-admission affair a potential script for a Soap.

Subject: Never felt so much happier before!!

Dearest frenz

Thanks for the wishes. Prad congrats from my side again dude..:-)

I had to share some thoughts, experiences since Nov 19th - April 27th with u all which will be treasured by me for a life time. It was a mix of highs and lows, anxiety and blithe & eventually desperation and cheers. A long one but I want to share with my dear ones including me (kinda introspection) .

Nov 19th was when CAT happened and it was that day night after checking the key I realised my exam went decently and I had fair chances of getting atleast a single call. It was in next few days that I started sensing that multiple calls are in the offing. Felt better and better. But it did not last long because new keys were released one after the other by various institutes as none of them were confident of which is the correct answer especially in English. One key made me feel that I am already a part of IIM campus and the other kicked me out from the gate itself. So the journey from Nov 19th - Jan 4th was a tough ride, I am sure all the students who took CAT were all my co-passengers, that was the level of uncertainity! !.

Jan - 4th Finally the D - Day came and the results were out. I found myself in an hapless situation as the section I tot will bail me out of trouble actually put me in a highly precarious situation(English! !!). To be honest the chances of getting even a single call now seemed a distant dream. One after the other all IIM's were showing me the exit door.

Strangely and in the hindsight funnily as well my-would-be- Alma Mater( Just cant resist my elation..I already belong to it!!!) also rejected me. I need to tell you all about this, which will substantiate as to why my selection is such an interesting episode. As IIMB site was down we had to call up admissions office and get the results. We had to give our Hall Ticket number, Date of Birth and Name.It was my friend who called up and when my name was asked he told Abid..and Abid is onething ppl dont get it correctly in the first instance. They have been so many occasions where in I had to spell my name to get it str8 into heads . So as usual the person at IIMB got it wrong and simply said I am not through!!. Again to be honest it did not hurt me much because by then I got used to it. So had no more hopes whatseover, already started thinking wats next..No compromise on college brand..this is what I have been telling myself. Though I did not tell this to Nari and Prad as well... I was sure of getting calls from SP Jain and NITIE and also converting them but my sights were already on the big man GMAT. Apart from dearest nari and prad, the biggest strength of mine to persevere and dream big was providing the required soothing in these difficult moments. However the twist in the story was the next day, I wanted to call IIMB office myself again. I was wondering why I was rejected when my profile is immaculate and others with similar % as mine were getting calls. This time I was told I am selected!!!! ..my happiness had no bounds..Unbelievable experience.. .I was told I am not selected little more than 24 hrs back and now life started entertaining me yet again...It really took time for the fact to sink in me..n I went to the extent of calling them up thrice each time spelling my name A..B..I..D.. .(As Rags calls me ABCD..that wud hve been easier :-))...Surely Prayers and only Prayers did it for me..

I knew GD(My favourite!!! ) is my piece of cake and will relish it to maximum. However I decided that this God given opportunity should not be wasted because of complacency. I gave my best in next 30 dayz. Every minute thing was covered in detail, got acquainted with many things happening around, got my form details reviewed atleast 4-5 times before I posted it to IIM B and K. I got the best recommendation letters from Sydulu sir and My managers at IBM. These were the genuine recos and I am very thankful to them for so beautifully putting across there feelings for me. If not to a gr8 extent but sure they would have an impact in my final selection.

Easily I was the best speaker in all the 4 GD/PI's I attended. Regarding interviews IIM B was the best in my life(I dont want to tell about IIMK plz..it was worse ). In the interview itself I got a feeling that I am already selected in IIMB, as soon as my interview was over I was punching my fist in air and already celebrating. Nari knows that, he was with me right through the interview process.My sincere thanks to the 2 interview panel members (whose qualifications were awesome,later checked in IIMB site) for making me feel very comfortable and get the best out of me.

This did not last long again..Yet again a twist this time OBC quota( I belonged to OBC!!)..a tussle between Supreme Court and HRD.Anxious moments sprouted and last 2 weeks were toughest for me and for all those who had hopes of making it into IIM's.

April 27th- But by Almighty's grace and the prayers of all my well wishers I finished it in style..Got selected as usual in General Category . This made the success even more satisfying,, ,,

Now its party time..Nari Verma we will hve treat@B'lore, Prajay, Rags, Tudum, Botla,Santhu n Prad we will hve it in HYD dudes..will let u know all soon abt it..We will have a blast!!!.n others(American Bhai log) .....

For now I bid bye..n catch u all soon again..with things happening my end. Mail was lengthy..simply cud not stop myself.

Cheers!

Abid

Epilogue:

If the thoughts are noble, desperation is pristine, efforts are immaculate, Yes, the entire universe conspires in helping us to achieve it. It happened with me, it can happen with anyone. Just speaking facts, not to mistaken it for philosophical blabber.

Chance Pe Dance

2010-01-26T17:21:00.004+05:30

Scribbled on 25th January-2010

The meeting ended. Nishi, Sami and my empty stomach accompanied me as I was getting ready mentally for yet another bout with my kitchenware. I hate cooking, I hate washing dishes even more especially after a bloody tiring day (how I wish I obliterate things like washing, brushing, bathing, etc, etc, etc..). I switch off my mind daily for full 45 minutes, so that the machine in me takes over and prepares the dinner. But today it was destined to be different. Thuckkk-kkk, came the invitation from Vishal, a new restaurant opened in DT mall (in IT park, Chandigarh) and he got an invite to visit it. As he could not attend he asked if we guys would like to avail the chance. My mind, heart and every unfortunate cell which made up my body was already on Chance pe Dance!!. Go-grab-it you asshole was what my mind barking. Yes-no-but,,,,,,,,nishi-back-home-problem, you-yes-me,,,,,no-why-not, all possible ways to express unintended excuses were burping out. My fingers proved yet again that they are smarter than my tongue. They grabbed the invitation card, jo hoga badh mein dekhte hain, abhi ke liye we will keep it (wise Abid in me said).

After a bit of meaningless-incoherent-unwanted bakar bakar, we decided to give it a try. I called up the restaurateur-‘Hey hi, this is Vishal Chalana (invite on this name) speaking from WINSHUTTLE, IT PARK’. I continued trying to move to a secluded place to avoid embarrassment. ‘We have an invite from your restaurant’, start shameless question 1- ‘does it mean food is free tonight??’, Yes came the reply and my spirits moved northwards.Shameless question 2- ‘We are three people, is it free for all?’, Another yes and six legs headed towards the brand new restaurant -RAJASTHANI THALI, A vegetarian restaurant which Guddu likes so much.

First step into the restaurant, I guessed it is going to be a not-bad experience. Tilak on forehead, hi-sir, please-sir, please-please-sir already doing rounds. A thali with eight small bowls-starters, butter milk, sweet dishes, dal, aloo, again a dal, kadi with roti, parantha, papad etc. etc. etc. The non-veg animal in me started savoring the sumptuous Ghaas-Phoos (that’s what I call the veg food). The servings were small, shameless Abid in me thought – It’s a complimentary meal, so we will get to only taste the food. Half fuelled belly in offing, I guessed. But the old adages seldom go wrong – Jab bhi Uppar wala deta hain, tho chappad phaad ke deta hain. Servings, more servings, by now I have already parked aside all my shame along with my bag. I devoured the Ghass-Phoos after a long-long-long time. I ate as though I managed to get a food pack from a helicopter in a flood hit area after a long ordeal. Thankfully Nishi and Sami gave me enough company else it would have been a big pain for them watching a bhukkad. I was proud of my dogged determination to remain shameless. I asked for rice, khitchdi came along. Khitchdi-more-khitchdi, ghee, ghusad diya jo bhi mila. In one word, it was an Excellent meal, as expected ammi was highly elated; but as mothers are divine manifestations - 'Oh you miss it daily beta', the lump of pain in her throat started pouring in. I cut it short, no mumma not again.

It was not food alone, it was the laugh-heartily-eat-happily experience which rendered awesomeness to it. The oldie in me speaks- Yes the food delighted me, yes I had a escape from daily chores, yes I had a hearty laugh, but what entranced me is the fact that - there is joy in every small thing, the present is indeed the greatest gift of God. Chuck the irreparable past and the elusive future – pearls of joy in living in present are always waiting to embrace me.

Unbiased opinion - Food at Rajasthani Thali rocked on Jan 25th, 2009. Worth trying once..( I am not paid to write this :))

Zindegi ki yahi Reet hain...Haar ke badh hi Jeet hain....

2010-01-20T20:54:00.000+05:30

Scribbled on 30th August-2008 at IIMB

'Night 5.30...aaaaa sorry morning 5.30 da'- A new confusion which intruded into life 2 add 2 d already existing clutter....I remember waking up Baba at 3 in d morning or max 4, when he went on duty when I was in class 12th. Those where d daz when I worked harrrrrrrrrd...sincere dedicated student I wazzzzzzz. But listening to early morning 'Azaan'(Muslim call 4 prayer) staying all night awake was beyond all my speculations...Well d point is not dat I m hating it...I hve been an nocturnal all my life..its about d transformation. A change frm reading 4 pleasure 2 readin 4 xams, chng of MAtheMAtiCs from favorite 2 scarin one. After 3 years of labor(at Job!!), marks are not very impt(I m lying) but yeah xams r.....

Mediocrity is still haunting me which I m totally new 2, but yeah a belief..a strong one does provide me d solace.. I m not new 2 bouncing back stronger..much stronger after d initial hiccups...dats wat my Super power is...It will not b loong time b4 I write my next post substantiating it...

'Zindegi ki yahi Reet hain...Haar ke badh hi Jeet hain.....' One liner...hummed by incorrigibly bad singer...dats me...

Her love is my motivation

2010-01-20T20:52:00.000+05:30

Scribbled on 17th March-2008

A call from her is something my mobile adores the most, so do I. The warmth and affection permeating from her words is the richest possession of mine and I take pride in stating so. At times I keep wondering how can someone love and be concerned so much about another person. Today she says she is counting everyday waiting for my return. Slightest dullness in my voice worries her to the extent that it spoils her day. Even I am waiting for next 2 weeks to pass in a flash so that I can become child yet again and endure the pristine love of her. Needless to say that she is my strength and my lifeline..........I love you Ammi.

Smiles!
Abbi

Tr(e)ading the Dalaal Street

2010-01-20T16:35:00.001+05:30

Draft scribbled on 1st December-2009

Almost a year after getting the pass to Dalaal street (DMAT account), I finally started trading (peace of mind for riches). Jeffrey Archer's 'Not a penny more, not a penny less' definitely influenced me in focusing on quick profits however less they may be. Prior to IIMB, I did not put an iota of effort in knowing about the animals called stocks, sensex etc. etc. (One of the many many things IIMB taught me). I was determined to make quick profits and make it a habit. I have always heard people cribbing about their losses. I want to prove a point. Yes, the hero in me awoke. Only strategy (if it can be called so) in my repertoire - Closely follow the price movements, not to get over greedy and break the marriage once decent level profits are booked. The first share I bought was TCS at around INR 588 which I sold at around INR 612 hence booked my first profit. Sold Reliance communications after making INR 200, if I had sold today I would have made 400, but who cares!. Bharti and Satyam are in RED. But I am sure Satyam is a great buy, one of the rare stocks with whom my marriage will last long.

All in all, analyzing companies, sectors, understanding market sentiments, triggers to market volatility, every bit of it has been a very satisfying learning experience. Again a caveat, do not over do anything, any amount of analysis cannot win over the surprises hurled by the markets - Beware if a dog of a VVVIP in India has diarrhea, the index may head south, so STRAANG is the correlation between the least related things and stock markets!!

Chandigarh days.......

2010-01-20T00:11:00.000+05:30

Scribbled on 30th Nov-2009

Never in my wildest dreams or remote(st) thoughts I imagined myself working in a place called Chandigarh. The most common job locations in India for IIM pass outs (not sure about other MBA's) are Delhi or Mumbai. This was definitely not my desired location by any standards (personal or professional). I came here as I did not have an alternative, period. I am sure I will not miss this place once I leave. However I am glad I had been here. To some extent it satiated my quench for traveling and observing people.I always feel rich to embrace new culture, new way of living. Well, it is definitely not a new culture as such, but definitely a novel experience for a guy who has seldom been to Northern India. Chandigarh has a charm, and I believe it is because of its people. Amazing beauty thrives here, beauty(yes, I am referring to humans) which transcends all ages. Cutest kids, handsome hunks, sexiest damsels and good looking old people. My first thoughts were - Boy, this is a different tribe!, Intra-breeding is a norm, A case of dumb and the beautiful?

If beauty in Chandigarh entranced me, the food has been pain-max. I agree it is because of rice-dal-dahi-chutney kinda food I have been eating all life, but I swear - Rajma, Paneer and black dal have hit me hard. Adding to the woes is the Jira in plain rice, grrrrrrr...... Until my cooking escapades started, I confess I had a pathetic time. Thanks to the place I live which is void of any restaurants, I have become a decent cook.

I first came here in mid of May. Despite being from a place known for scorching summers, I felt extremely difficult to acclimatize myself. I vividly remember those early days in my rented house - drinking water use to just get HOT in no time, the windows and doors open all night, the intermittent power cuts, the hot blow of air even at midnights. It feels so funny and incredible that how much it has changed now. Its freezing cold, a perfect example of minus infinity to plus infinity concept thought in school. One common thing across these extreme weather conditions is tough nights either because of grueling heat or bitter winters. Amidst all this, I savor the 5 minute walk every day as I go to office. I am truly in love with the freshness of cold air, much needed warmth of the morning sun, the sight of cutie tiny tots in stuffed winter wear, the lush green shivalik park.

Chandigarh as per what I see is definitely not a happening place. Advent of IT has made it bigger, I wonder what it was prior to it. Getting a job in IT park, working in Infosys is a BIG thing for people here. I have not traveled the entire breath of it, but if I extrapolate my experiences I think it can be a haven for family, definitely not for a south Indian bachelor*.

*Conditions apply

The Beginning...

2010-01-20T00:00:00.009+05:30

In the moments of dark, the beauty of artless past provides the solace

Going to school in rains
Investiture ceremony – Wearing blazers, marching to take oath
Pride in carrying loads of books from staff room for teachers
Venkateswarao sir's 10% component for notes
Prizes, prizes and more prizes
Thrill in representing school in competitions
Complaining against classmates to teachers
Sudhakar sir’s drawing home work
Public announcement system – Joy in name being announced as a winner
Reaching school early and playing cricket
Innocent fear for Nageshwarao Sir
The ‘appa’ Baba used to get for lunch
Ammi’s sumptuous lunch set when sick
Progress card day especially when secured rank one
Pleading Asif for a ride on his bicycle
Special attention by Library sir
Ravi Kiran – the quiz partner
The crushes and fears
Venkat Narayan sir’s style of teaching and giving away answer scripts
Humayun and his troop’s lunch
Lata teacher’s rebuke for allowing Padmaja (a girl) to get 1^st rank
Monfort Literary and Cultural festivals
Swarna teacher and her cool demeanor
Scoring 100% in Math and Social Studies objective paper
Joy in wearing new dress to school on Saturday's
The nervousness in preparing and the joy in solving mathematics paper
Moosa sir’s class – embarrassment– 'Bogus mathematics'
Joy in school remaining closed during strikes, rains
Annual day celebrations
The sixer's in gully cricket
Baba carrying me like a sack during late night functions
They all lie buried in the annals of history called - My childhood
Memories galore…how I wish I trade all my riches- present and past for the serene and salubrious past. I beseech thee lord- your child yearns for such simple yet joyful life

Scribbled on 26th June-2009