Complain, we do!

I am busy - I complain.
I don't have work - I complain.

Hmmm... interesting, isn't it? Interesting, my foot! I say "disgusting". Life can never be just right! We find ways to complain and make our life stressful that we forget to enjoy how involved we are with an activity or how much time we have on hands to do something which means a lot to us. Complain, we do!

So much so that it becomes a cliche. So much so that the other person is bored to listen to us. So much so that we procrastinate things. So much so that we create our own mental blocks to under perform.

I say let's get a move on and go finish those unfinished tasks, those things which matter to us. Those things of which we are scared in life. Those things that we wanted to save for another day. Life is limited, make the most of it. If you are busy, then how did we get the time to complain? If we have all the time in the world, why do we complain? We don't count our blessings. But yes, complain, we do!

Grit and Determination

Yesterday, I saw a football game between Indianapolis Colts and New England Patriots. Two great teams and two great quarterbacks. Both have a great record this year in the NFL and going into this game, I could not have guessed who would win. Looking at the colts record I thought that they might win the match. But two quarters into the game and I felt that the colts were slightly underprepared for this match. But as with many great teams and great players, these guys never gave up. They were trailing by 14 points in the last quarter and went on to win the game 35-34 in the dying moments of the game! Such was their determination to win and their never give up attitude that they continued to grind and eat away at the Patriot's lead.

Only if there were more people who could learn from it!

Telugu Associations

When I had not stepped out of India, if someone had told me that America was a land full of Indians, I would have laughed at them. I had always thought that it was a country with a few hundred thousand Indians spread across the country. That was my impression until I came to Chicago, my first point of entry in the US. I could see that this country had a very high mix of people from all continents, races and religions. And Indians were all over! There were so many Telugu people in the school to which Girija went that I felt as if I had come to Hyderabad or any other city in Andhra. They were all nice and caring people, but this was not how I had pictured America to be. As I took my time to adjust, I realized that these people were necessary to hang out with because they were the only link to what we spoke back home and what we did. We went out to parties together, watched movies, went on long drives and even shared the same tastes. We had pretty much formed a group of our own that we did not want anyone else's company.

Then slowly, as time passed, we got introduced to more and more Indians, many of whom were Telugu. Some were long lost friends and people whom we met on chance. Some were new acquaintances. But it was all good. Then one fine day, we were introduced to a family who were deep into cultural activities. That was when we got to know about some Telugu Associations like TANA, TTA, TAGC, CTA, ATA, TANTEX, BATA that catered to Telugu people within America. We had heard of some of them, but never did we know about them in detail. And once we got to know about them, we did not want to hear anymore.

One would believe that politics and lobbying would happen only in India. But we could not digest that there was not much of a difference in the way some of the things were run here. Infighting, bickering, politics - I was surprised that all the dirt from Indian politics was carried over here too. Event slots are debatable most of the time as it defies logic. Good programmes and artistes get raw deal, people tend to become arrogant and thick skinned. So much so that, people like me would be happy to just participate and turn a blind eye to what is happening with respect to the association. Recently a new association was formed as well due to a fall out with the existing associations.

If such things happen, the very purpose of why these associations came in to existence is defeated. Every family, neighborhood and region will come up with their own association and the oneness of the community will be lost.

The Train

While I wrote the below when I was on the train, I got time to upload it only today

Train journeys are one of the best that I can think of any day. Better than the bus, the car or even the flight. Time does not matter when travelling. Place does not matter too, although it does to a little extent. I am on a train to Naperville (Route 59) right now where I will be getting down to go to a Telugu drama practice. I am playing the role of Indra, a mythological God who ruled Swargalokam. It will be the first time that I will be acting in a pauranika naatakam (mythological drama). While the experience is rich, it requires a lot of preparation and hardwork.

It takes about an hour on the train from Union Station Chicago to Route 59 on a weekend. Adding the time it takes to reach Union Station and from Route 59 to the venue, the total journey is about 2 hrs. Yet, Girija and I have made several trips this year to participate in various events or just to pay friends a visit. It can be quite painful sometimes because it takes away your entire day from you. But then such experiences dont come knocking everyday at your doorstep. And the travel itself becomes quite beautiful with vibrant people all around.

Yesterday, there was a girl seated in front of me who had gotten onto the train just in time, but could not buy her ticket at the counter. So she paid an extra 2 dollars to buy it on the train. It reminded me of myself - the last minute man. I would usually catch the train running mostly just as the doors would close. Sometimes it is fun to watch game goers climb on to the train and make a lot of noise. Every time you get onto a train, you find different stories, meet different people and pretty much see a reflection of yourself in more than one person. That is the kind of atmosphere that the train has.

Then, compare that to a bus or a flight where every person either sleeps as soon as they board or at the max speak to the person next to them. The degree of freedom to move around is just not there. Moreover, if you get stuck in traffic, it is even more painful waiting there in the bus. Indian train travels, especially those in the second class (3-tier sleeper), are the best that I can think of. They cannot be compared with any other kind of travel on this world. That's better than a facebook, orkut, a flight, a bus or any other socializing place. To me, that provides the most vibrant way to travel from one city to another. People make friends in a very short period of time and you never know what surprises are in store. Second class travel is so famous and fondly remembered for the guys selling pallis (peanuts), samosas, Idlis, omelettes, dosas,ummm...just yummm! Thinking back of even the beggars and eunuchs evokes a faint smile. I could go on with stories of my travels on the train while I was in India, but it would need to be split like a TV serial. So, for this time I will not go in to that detail.

I would be getting down in a few mins and therefore I have to close my laptop now. Bye for now!

Beer Vs Biryani

What-a-tension-filled-match!

The first two editions of the IPL have brought an Australian captain and an Indian captain face to face. While it was Warne and Dhoni last year, it is Gili and Jumbo.

My heart is racing as I witnesss an absolute thriller. Two teams who were down in the dust had something to prove this year and how they have done! There is absolutely no regrets for the losing team for both the teams have played as champions. The intensity never dipped, the shoulders never drooped and the enthusiasm has been ecstatic!

Kudos to Deccan Chargers and Royal Challengers Bangalore!

Tied Up at work

Like a prisoner looking at the outer world, thinking deeply about the day of his release, there lay my ties in the closet. More than two dozen of them! Yes, my fondness of ties does not die down and I keep collecting them. Of course, in the last couple of years I have not added considerably many more to my wardrobe, but every time I pass by a rack of ties, my mind invariably does the math and finally the brain wins over the heart. As most of my other IT colleagues in the US, I have not had many occasions to bring these valued possessions into broad daylight. They remain locked up in some corner of the closet, taken out only when I need to rearrange my wardrobe. My wife's graduation and a night time boat cruise were the only two times when I could tie that piece of cloth around my neck, and it felt so good - like IV fluids being given to a sick man. :-)

And so, when day before yesterday, Suneel (colleague at work) said to me that he had several ties at home and that he was raring to wear them, I happily looked at him and readily agreed to start wearing a tie to office. So, finally I had company to show off my prized ties at work place! So casual is the dress culture that even the EDs wear jeans Monday through Friday. It was once my dream to come to work in jeans every single day of the week, but then when you do it continuously over prolonged periods of time, you get an overdose. And I decided that it was time to go back to wearing tie to work.

I knew that people in the office would stare at us, but I didnt know that they would stare the whole day. Every single person came up and asked if there was something special. Back in Infosys India, it was so common place to wear a tie to office and here I felt so conscious wearing one. I could not stop thinking about it even after I came home. Even Girija was smiling looking at a different me. But despite all this, there was some extra confidence in me. It was as if, someone said to me that wearing a tie would make me less vulnerable at office. One stylish piece of cloth can make so much difference to your overall look.

The next thing? Wearing a tie to office everyday from Mon-Thu. Let's leave Fridays as dress down days ;-)

In the line of fire

The below is not my composition. I received it in mail. Nice one to read :-)

A real story ...A conversation between a Soldier and Software Project Manager in Shatabdi Train ....
.....An interesting and a must read!

Vivek Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi
express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel.
It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with the admin person, it was the savings in time.
As PM, he had so many things to do!!

He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use.

'Are you from the software industry sir,' the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.
Vivek glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care
and importance as if it were an expensive car.

'You people have brought so much advancement to the country, Sir. Today everything is getting computerized.'

'Thanks,' smiled Vivek, turning around to give the man a look. He always found it difficult to resist appreciation.
The man was young and stockily built like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that
little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the
most of his free traveling pass.

'You people always amaze me,' the man continued, 'You sit in an office and write something on a computer
and it does so many big things outside.'

Vivek smiled deprecatingly. Naiveness demanded reasoning not anger. 'It is not as simple as that my friend.
It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it.'

For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself
to a single statement. 'It is complex, very complex.'

'It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid,' came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vivek had thought. A hint of belligerence crept into his so far affable, persuasive tone. ' Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in. Indians have such a
narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office, does not mean our brows do
not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing.'
He could see, he had the man where he wanted, and it was time to drive home the point.

'Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized.
You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking
centres across the country.
Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrently; data integrity, locking, data security.
Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?'
The man was awestuck; quite like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination.
'You design and code such things.'

'I used to,' Vivek paused for effect, 'but now I am the Project Manager.'

'Oh!' sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over,
'so your life is easy now.'

This was like the last straw for Vivek. He retorted, 'Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder.
Responsibility only brings more work.
Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me,
that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality.
To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end, always changing his requirements,
the user at the other, wanting something else, and your boss, always expecting you to have finished it yesterday.'

Vivek paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely
the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth.
'My friend,' he concluded triumphantly, 'you don't know what it is to be in the Line of Fire'.
The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with
a calm certainty that surprised Vivek.

'I know sir,...... I know what it is to be in the Line of Fire.......'
He was staring blankly, as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.
'There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in the cover of the night.
The enemy was firing from the top.
There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom.
In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of us were alive.'
'You are a...?'
'I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed
my term and can opt for a soft assignment.
But, tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier.
On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while
we were hiding behind a bunker.
It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety.
But my captain sahib refused me permission and went ahead himself.
He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of
the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded...
....his own personal safety came last, always and every time.'

'He was killed as he shielded and brought that injured soldier into the bunker. Every morning thereafter,
as we stood guard, I could see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me .
I know sir....I know, what it is to be in the Line of Fire.'

Vivek looked at him in disbelief not sure of how to respond. Abruptly, he switched off the laptop.
It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a Word document in the presence of a man for whom
valour and duty was a daily part of life; valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes. The train slowed down as it pulled into the station, and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight.

'It was nice meeting you sir.'

Vivek fumbled with the handshake.
This hand... had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour.
Suddenly, as if by impulse, he stood up at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute.
It was the least he felt he could do for the country.

PS: The incident he narrated during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true-life incident during the Kargil war.
Capt. Batra sacrificed his life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight.
For this and various other acts of bravery, he was awarded the Param Vir Chakra,
the nation's highest military award.

Live humbly, there are great people around us, let us learn!
Winners are .....
too busy to be sad,
too positive to be doubtful,
too optimistic to be fearful
and too determined to be defeated...

Dafatan

I felt like blogging dafatan...

Dafatan - a new word I caught while listening to songs of Delhi-6 and when I searched the web for the meaning, I learnt that it means "all of a sudden" ... just like many of our cravings, wants...

Some of the songs of Delhi-6 were so soothing you want them to go on forever. Its one of those must hear albums. Seems like Rahman has been quite busy the entire last year.