Moments of Truth

Avakasikal

2011-01-21T10:47:00.000-08:00

It was after one of my annual exams in high school that I came to know about a 4 volume novel that was lying in one of the almaras of my grand father's house. The books belonged to my aunt, my father's younger sister, and were bought by her husband who was working in Sharjah at that time. I was told that the book spreads into four huge volumes and must be about 4000 pages. Author's name Vilasini was new to me and initially thought it to be the work of a woman. This was immediately cleared and corrected to my surprise that the actual name of the author was Moorkanat Krishnankutti Menon (M.K.Menon) and that he was hailing from Thrissur, my birth place and home. I was interested and took the first volume home after getting permission from my aunt.

The first volume took a lot of time to complete. In fact, it took 15 days for me to finish as reading was going very slow with a lot of gap between chapters. The plot was good and it got interesting as each and every character was unfolded. I took the second volume and finished in 7 days. The third did not take even 3 days and the fourth one was read in one stretch without me moving and was completed in just one and half days. In fact the novel was such an influence that till date I had read it three times.

Avakasikal is a huge novel. In fact it is the longest novel in an Indian language. I have read that the author took 10 years to complete the novel and it must be true. If it takes a month to read it, it must have taken a substantial amount of the life of the author. Avakasikal- meaning The Claimants - is briefly the modern day Mahabharata and has got a number of characters in it. The well woven plot that unfolds mainly in Malaysia does not take away the charm of the Indian feel of story and it sometimes take a ride in India for some crucial part. The novel depicts in depth analysis and mental state of each character and hence does not leave any tables unturned. The effort of the author was rewarded with rave reviews and prizes including state and central awards.

There are some reasons for me to like the book "Avakasikal". One of it is the beauty of story telling through the perpective of different characters. The same incident sometimes gets different interpretations through the eyes of different people and the author has done this job with ease. Another reason is the presence of the protagonist, Krishnanunni, and his mesmerizing approach to resolve issues. I won't say that this is the best novel in Malayalam but I would say that this is one of the best. One reason is that it has got not one story.
Instead it has got many stories that got interwoven well and narrated nicely and carefully. It would be difficult to spend a lot of time on such novels these days, but I would recommend it simply because this novel had played a good part in shaping my character.

A Man of Integrity!

2010-01-12T11:42:00.000-08:00

I met him on Broadway and I remember it was raining at that time. I was walking to the Port Authority bus station and, like any New Yorker, was busy with myself
trying to reach on time to catch the bus. Broadway, by the way, recently has been partially closed for traffic to make way for pavements with chairs, plants, bicycle lanes etc. So it was easy to avoid the sidewalks and walk straight through the middle of the road. Suddenly, I was stopped by this gentleman with an Asian face and I had to slow down to listen.

He asked. "Aap ko Urdu jhantha hai?" (Do you know Urdu?)
I replied. "Ha..I can understand it."

I had already stopped. This was a brother (bhai!), after all.

He started his story saying that he was on a short visit to New York from Boston and his valet was lost. Now he had no money to go back and whether I would be able to help him financially to get back. I was not sure. There were a lot of questions that if answered correctly would be enough to convince me that this was a false story. Still I felt guilty as if for some reason he was right, I will be committing a mistake by not helping him. I said "Sorry" and left him there. I noted that he was not desperate. During my trip back home I had a debate with myself on the incident.

Few weeks later, I was again on Broadway, walking towards the bus station. This time, winter was early and I had a cap and a muffler around my neck. I was wearing a fleece. On the corner of a street, somebody touched me on my shoulder. It was him again and it was a pleasant surprise for me. Before I could respond, he started again.

"Aap ko Urdu jhantha hai?" "Mem Boston se aaya hai"....

With a sense of deja vu, I interrupted. "Bhai. At least try to change your story this time!".

The Religion of Global Positioning Systems

2009-11-09T13:53:00.000-08:00

The first time I rented a car in NY I lost my way a couple of times even when I had access to the best maps. The complexity and number of the smaller streets and my interest in exploring new places influenced my decision to buy a vehicle with a navigation system. I have never regretted that decision as the truck has allowed me to jump on with confidence for any trip. Some of my friends told me that it will disable my ability to understand the city better. In the next few years I found out that they too had bought navigation systems but I am sure that the justification would not have applied to me in the first place. It is always the case. This could have come from a false assumption on how I was going to use my
navigation system or the lack of understanding on the factors that influenced my decision. I never wanted to argue because I did not fully understand the reasons for their conclusions.

The navigation system, as it was integrated into the car, always showed accurate information on when and where to turn. May be the speed at which the car was
traveling would always be taken into account to calculate the time and distance. During many of my long road trips, I had the luxury of taking detours without
even knowing the terrain. Its also true that a couple of occasions, I was directed with wrong way traffic and false destinations but one should be dumb enough
to follow the directions as it is, without considering the conditions.

There could be millions of devices, of different brands, that follow different satellites but the purpose was same. To give directions to move. Those directions
would come in different languages, different voices, possibly through different routes. But an address, a destination, would always be the same. The truth remain
the same. It would be a shame for me, or anybody for that matter, to claim that our navigation system is the better one or the only one. Truly speaking, you will still be good without one.

Easter Bunny

2009-04-13T12:45:00.000-07:00

The township library was closed on the day of Easter and I had decided to make my trip to return the books very late in the evening. Although the library was closed,
I could return the books and DVDs through the drop boxes. To make matters simple, there was a drive-in drop box and my daughter was very happy to offer that she will
drop the books and DVDs from the rear seat of the car.

It was really dark and almost 8pm when we reached the library. There were very few lights and not a single person around. From the main road, I took a right turn to the library and proceeded to the drive-in drop box on my left. Suddenly I noticed a small object, around the size of a tennis ball, on the drive way. The impulse was natural and I braked. The alert driver in myself, not the self sitting behind the wheel, somehow knew that this was not something I would expect on that road.

In the seconds that followed, we could figure out that it was a baby rabbit. It was alive but alone. Its eyes did not show any fear and I assumed that it still thought of this world as a safe place. It did not move even in the head lights. I decided to scare it away by moving a little bit closer and ended up with the hood of my vehicle obstructing a clear view of the bunny. My wife was screaming to me to stop and get out.

Myself and Minnu (my 6 year old daughter) got out from the car and closed in on the bunny. My kid was showing signs of joy having the opportunity to spot a baby rabbit in the middle of unexpected circumstances. I am sure that she will have a story to tell her friends after the spring break. I looked around to check whether I could see any signs of its habitat or its mom; with failure.

A question popped up as to whether we should leave the bunny there or take it home. Both had its own dangers and advantages. It was possible that the rabbit was lost or its mom had died/not returned. It was not safe out there in all respects. But at the same time, if the mother rabbit had in fact returned after we took the bunny home, it would be a disastrous situation. We finally decided to leave it to fate. After allowing the bunny to move away from the driveway, we returned home. It is sad that I do not know the end of this story. Probably this incident will help my daughter realize that not all stories end with "happily ever after".

Before bed time, while helping her to brush her teeth, I took it as an example to teach her the consequences of getting lost and the importance of staying together. She held me tight and it occurred to me that the Easter bunny had brought her a present. A beautiful lesson.

Self-Portrait

2009-03-05T10:40:00.000-08:00

On 31st of Dec 2008, while having a late breakfast at office, one of my colleagues asked me this question: "What is your new year resolution?". I thought for a moment and realized that I did not have one. The lack of an answer probed my brain for few days and it occured to me that I had not given enough attention to reflect on my life in the past year or was not in a position to give a serious thought to my future plans. I felt a bit disappointed at that conclusion and was willing to spend some time for a better result. Thus the exercise began.

The positives were easy to spot and project. They had been well publicized, either verbally or via pictures such as those in picasa or orkut. It is a bit misleading. Like those flashy life in the screen, be it cinema or television. Real life had its own bumps and troughs. It was not easy to focus on the negatives but this was my life and nobody else cared much than self, and rightfully so, to treat it fair and square.

Investigating deeper, I found that my search of perfection has actually strained and sometimes broken relationships. Perfectionism, I feel, could be a disease. It is not very easy to come out of a habit that is not in blood but mind. My efforts are failing and bringing me to the brink of breaking up. Still I want to give it a try. One last attempt!

God files for Bankruptcy

2008-09-30T14:39:00.000-07:00

These are difficult times!

Look at India. The biggest democracy is reeling under terrorist strikes almost every week. The sacred places of worship are being attacked, people getting killed. Its possible that political parties are making hay while the sun is shining. At the same time, it is not easy to forget the confessions of the suspected, whether it is through narco analysis or on their own. Or is it the creation of media only? Fortunately Kerala is not much affected. They prove it with many more hartals and, of course, inauguration of more TV channels (apparently the only way of entertainment for the poor Keralites) almost every day. Very few days are left till the year is over and those are going to be auctioned.

Situation is not different in United States of America, though in a different way. Every morning, there is good news and bad news. Financial institutions are failing like a house of cards and the government is seriously considering to help some. "Whom" is a question currently under FBI
investigation. Certainly this will affect more than those after the 9/11 attacks. This was seen coming though. A nation, under God, indivisible.

Believe me. In this turmoil, there is one place where a lot of recruitment is happening. People who desperately want jobs don't have to be disappointed. The recruitment is done for the protection of religion. Because God himself is in trouble and going through a difficult period. He does not have the power to protect his religion and his stocks are falling. Did he invest in one of the failed banks in America? I am sure that he did not invest in the hearts of the good and wise.

So friends, brothers and sisters, join the recruitment drive. A future awaits you :-)

Ethics

2007-12-06T09:40:00.000-08:00

I am confused because some times I do not know what is right and what is wrong. Don't assume that it is a simple issue. In fact, I believe that is much more complicated than it actually is.

I am not very sure whether it is right or wrong to download and watch a recently released movie from the internet. I haven't paid for it but then it is available for free. I do not know whether the site has actually paid for it to show this free or the producer or distributor is getting a share of it. The same is true for the CDs/DVDs that becomes available on the street just after the release. Okay. You might say that they are illegal. I take it.

Look at this. I have rented a tamil movie (on tape) for $1. The shop, to my knowledge, is legal and in in the business for quite some time. Is it legal to watch this movie at home? There is a good chance that the DVD was available (not necessarily for this region/country) and the shop owner has made copies on tape. Or it is possible that source of the movie is from an illegal download/sale (which again is debatable). Lets move on.

I take the rented movie and take it home and my friend and family joins to watch the movie. I rented it, they did not. Is it legal for them to watch it as they did not pay for it? Leave it.

I bought a DVD, watched it and then my colleague borrows it. Is that legal if he watches it? Is it legal if he watches it with his friends/family? Is it legal for him to lend it to one of his colleague or friend?

Using pirated stuff is against my ethics :-) But I download music and listen to it on my iPod. Ilisten to songs online. I distribute songs that I have downloaded. I have no clue how many of that songs are legal and how many of them are illegal. I have no clue on whether the producers or distributors are going to get a share of the advertisement income. Move on.

I think I can't even borrow a book to read whether it is fiction or educational as I am not paying for it. I can't ask for that pen to write. I have no idea whether that was stolen.

I am still confused on whether to publish this. It is just possible that somebody had already wiritten the same. Or at least thought about it. And I will be making a mistake. Let me reiterate. I am confused.

Comparisons Inc.

2006-11-22T09:14:00.000-08:00

Its a weekend and as usual I am late to wake up. My daughter who has made a habit of waking up late on weekdays is already playing with her imaginary friends. She must have got up early and that is not unusual on weekends. And she gives an alarm which we used to give her on weekdays. "Daddy. Wake up, its morning". No wonder in the sayings that whatever you give, you always get them back. I miss her calling me "Achey". Probably she found it easier to follow English than Malayalam after coming to US last year. Its survival as I wish to call it.

Its 11am and the phone rings. The number is not familiar and it must be for my wife. Let her pick it up. My friends have stopped calling me long before. There are a few who still keep in touch and thank God for that. It must be my fault to keep as well as lose friends. My thoughts are interrupted by a conversation. Sindhu is in the kitchen and she must be doing parallel processing. What if I eavesdrop? At least I have to know that she is not looking for another man. Otherwise who will look after Minnu? Whatever reasons I wish to make here, there is an emotional attachment that makes me incomplete in her absence. I am afraid of that vacuum where there is no love. Where there is nobody to love me.

"Ha! This is Sindhu! Hm.... Who! Oh...Where are you calling from? I never thought that I will be able to talk to you after we left college? This is pleasant surprise!".

I can't hear who is on the other side. I just love to be on the bed a little more. I have a lot of work to do which I do not want to think about. That includes getting up, brushing teeth, going to toilet, taking a bath. And after that I have to get Minnu brush her teeth, wipe her clean, switch on the DVD player for her to see Dora (and that is the umpteenth time she is watching it) before I start bigger work such as cleaning the house and doing laundry. Thank god. By procrastination, I usually stretch it to 12pm on sunday nights. The conversation is continuing.

"No! We came last year only."
"Suresh got a transfer. Same company."
"Everybody is doing fine."
"Ya. Daughter"
"She is turning 4 this December."
"Going to pre-K."
"No. Its a nearby kids care center"
"Neighbourhood okay. Mostly black and spanish"
"We are thinking about it. Will have to move for a better school".
"Rent is too much. Parking is additional"
"In NY, we can't afford that. You people are lucky"
"Minnu is slowly learning. She is picking up"
"Oh. He learned in just one month? How old is he now?"
"I see. He brush himself?"
"Where? Europe tour? When? I have been telling Suresh. Don't know when".

Oh my god. This talk is becoming dangerous. I must do something. Okay. The phone is powered by internet. Its voice-over-IP.

When I switch of the fan, unknowingly the power to the cable modem is cut off and I slowly moves to the toilet. Let me think about some defense in this loneliness.

Outside, the conversation has ended and Minnu is getting a lesson to brush by herself. A business selling comparisons would be a great idea, I think. There is no shortage of it.

I must make sure that we live our own life.

In the market for ....

2006-09-08T09:00:00.000-07:00

Finally I decided to go for it. Everybody in the family was compelling me and the pressure had mounted more than I could handle. I had acquired a license at the age of 18. So the next day onwards, I started looking for the models of the year I wanted. On my journey to work and back I watched my right and left. The search was on.

I had a list of requirements. Color was of top most priority. I wanted to get noticed. Ivory was my first preferance. If all other requirements were met, brown or even black was not a problem. Brand was certainly one of the item in the list. Something that suited my status. Since I started my search a bit late, there were very few available in the market. The more I waited, the best was going with the rest of the world.

I knew that it will add additional monthly expenses but then that is part and parcel of the package. But there are things I would save if I look it from a different perspective. I had to be careful as there was no return policy. I did not have kids then but wanted to accommodate atleast two. I did not want a fully loaded one but I would have liked a lot of accessories. Cash back was welcome. I wanted it first hand even if the model was one year plus or minus. A scratch or two was okay but accidents were out of question. A multi-utility one was always in my wildest dreams. Look and feel was another criterion, mainly front and back. A rear-spoiler was desired but optional. I wanted a navigator to guide me if I got lost. I wanted a smooth noiseless run for years with less maintenance.

"Cut the crap man! Then what happened?"

"I had to forget it as I had a love marriage".

"No! I am asking about the vehicle."

"What vehicle? Oh! I went for a SUV if thats what you are asking about!"

Goal

2006-06-09T14:00:00.000-07:00

In the blog world, I saw:

An elephant, big, black, Indian: I called it 'reservation'.

A mahout, poor but strong: I called him 'backward caste'.

A second mahout on top of the elephant: I called him 'creamy layer'

Elephant droppings: I called them 'complaints or drawbacks'

A man on horse: I called him 'forward caste'

A crowd for the tail hair: I called them 'economically backward'

Bystanders: I called them the 'politicians'

Blind men (and women, of course) who went to see the elephant: I called them 'bloggers'

In the blog world, I heard:

"Kill the elephant", for all those elephant droppings.
"Let me pass" , because it is blocking me.
"No! Let it live" , as it feeds me and a family
"Come down" , you can't ride on top all the time
"Give me a hair" , that's what we ask for
"Widen the path" , for the time being

And today I plan to start watching FIFA World Cup 2006 where the so called 'reservation' or 'quota' exists in the selection of teams from continents. Of course, with forwards, backwards, midfielders, defenders, referees, linemen, spectators, goalkeepers. I have a serious concern for QUALITY. Ooops...

Back to School

2006-05-25T21:09:00.001-07:00

"Leave me alone".

The voice felt stronger in the deep silence that followed. It created ripples and echoed from the walls before it vanished into the streets behind the windows.

I stood there red-faced. Where did that come from?

I am not reading the magazines where Britney, Angelina, Tom or a possible soul of princess Diana screaming that there are more important issues in this world than their private life.

Also not watching a movie where the heroine is angry at her boyfriend for being late (usually it is the other way around, but fearing opposition I am making a small change in the script) or not remembering (right on target and it happens all the time, I admit) her birthday.

Can't be from the workplace where that stressed coworker is pleading others to concentrate more on their work and family than attendance and salary details of others.

Certainly not from the outside world, where millions of issues with possible simple solutions are getting complicated day by day, as I am standing inside my apartment, a world where I have created rules to avoid chaos. Rules I am comfortable with.

It came from a fourty month old little girl. Who did not know a piece of English ten months back. Who failed to talk a full sentence twenty months back. Who couldn't walk on her own thirty months back. And who was not even in this world another ten more months before. My daughter.

Waking up from the shock, I asked: "Why?". I was only telling her that she was putting the wrong leg on the right shoe.

Starting with a "because" she learned recently, she told, with all the innocence in this world, that it is the wrong shoe on the right leg.

The shock gave way to a smile. Of the three important women in my life, mother, wife and daughter, she teaches me most lessons these days.

I looked at her shoes again. To see whether I could get into those. And realized with regret that I would not.

101 Effective ways of using a Treadmill

2006-05-16T22:46:00.000-07:00

Getting rid of the reservation manthra that is going on, I sat to give a thought to my health. (After all I was happy that left front was going in favour of applying the creamy layer and giving reservation to economically backward in the forward castes).

It is not that there is some serious problem. A bit of cholestrol, low pressure, overweight, a nice tummy to compete with Lord Venkateswara, constant back pain in the lower back. My doctor still told me that I am perfect and does not want to see me in the next 6 months. But a little exercise will help including a bit of control on the diet. Diet control is not a new thing. I have tried it many times and, of course, failed miserably. Control on meat and egg can be naturally taken care of, thanks to a vegetarian wife. Ice cream can be avoided if I start eating it in front of my little daughter. Nuts I won't get to eat as my wife does that job while I drive. Not many burgers or potato fries as I bring food from home. One pound of fried rice and some curry with a banana to top it. So diet control is not a problem.

What to do for exercise? After coming in US, I am forced to walk to catch the bus/train. In the evening, I have to walk again to get my kid from the preschool. That is not enough. Whom to ask? Google is my best buddy these days and after a good research and one or two phone calls to some of my friends, I decided to buy a treadmill. Treadmill doctors available on the net made me crazy and I got confused on how much to spend on it. So I asked my friends about the price they had spent. One of them told me that he thought that he would not be using it and instead decided to join a nearby gym. In the last 6 months he had been there 4 times. Well done!

I asked friend A that on an average how often he uses it in a week. He said that he had kept the treadmill in the basement so that he won't get to see it quite often. He advised that foldable treadmills can save space in the basement.

Friend B and family was innovative. They were happy to get a place to hang their clothes.

An advertisement of a gym on the subway car showed the master allowing his dog to use the treadmill while he was watching TV with a brown bag full of popcorn next to him. I was inspired.

So today I sat to watch a movie, of course with the happiness of saving some money on the gym and treadmill. There was a change in the scene. Just to escape from copyright acts, I had replaced the popcorn bag with a glass of wine.

PS: I am planning to write a book on 101 effective ways of using a treadmill. Your comments are appreciated.

Heads or Tails

2006-05-11T06:25:00.000-07:00

As expected, as the right front had fared in the past election and expected to do in the next with fair probability, left has swept to power in God's own country. Congratulations to all Keralites and wish you (including me) all better luck this time.

Every five years, we try our luck with the toss of a coin perfectly knowing on which face it is going to land. We get bored even before the five years and that will reflect in elections other than to the assembly seats. Unfortunately or fortunately, the coin has only two sides which will leave us with only two choices. So what happened to the coin which Jai tosses in the movie "SHOLAY"? That was recovered in West Bengal!

A search in google told me this: Studies have proved that coin tossing is inherently biased: A coin is more likely to land on the same face it started out on.

Not on Thy Grace, But On Your Merits

2006-04-30T22:30:00.000-07:00

So the time has come, finally.

No more upper classes and lower classes in India and certainly not in Kerala. We had long back stopped discriminating others based on caste or religion. Nobody really think in terms of caste, particularly when it is about a marriage or job. Everybody is accepted everywhere, including the old lower caste priests now in temples run by an upper caste majority. Oh! Sorry! There is no such thing as upper caste and lower caste. Don't ever repeat that kind of classification. Its no longer there. As a punishment, I will write it 100 times on a piece of paper. Suddenly I will see that ideal world. Isn't it magic?

How many years passed after freedom? Fifty to sixty years is the average life time of a human being and we have completely eradicated the problems that led to reservations to the deprived in the time span of just one generation. That's music to my ears. Let's get this message to the world where racism is still an issue. They should learn from us. Seeing us and learning by example, they will be able to get rid of a curse that has been in their society for centuries, in no time.

Reservations are now an old story. Now everything is, or should be, based on merit. Only merited should go through. That makes sense. Doesn't it? After all, we know the definition of what merit is! So get those handicapped persons off their jobs because there are others who will do better than them. No more jobs to widows or the relatives of that deceased while he/she was in service because there are others more deserving. Don't give that seat to him/her just because he is good in football or cricket or swimming and nothing else. Let him go and play on the streets. No donations, please. At least, don't talk about it please. This is for us, who have been studying 24 hours/day, 7 days per week. We deserve it more than anybody else.

This is for us and our children, who have the privilege and fortune to switch on those emergency lamps during power cuts, who have the money to buy whatever books we want to supplement our otherwise mean brain, who have the bank balance to send us to tution that requires thousands per month, who do not really care whether there are classes at school or college due to strikes or hartals or bandhs or any other constipation theory. We are the right people because we can afford to read news papers everyday, watch more than one news channels on more than one televisions, access to information because of internet connectivity and what more, parents and relatives who can answer our doubts or recommend us to any positions, although we do not really need it. And you see we have our full time for studies, not like those ones who struggle and do part time job to meet their daily needs.

See! Our point is that there is no more poverty or discrimination in society on any grounds. All conditions are equal. When all conditions are equal, if we get 90 marks, we should get that admission, right? Since all conditions are equal, we are better than him/her who got 80 marks, right? Yes! We attended the same examination, right? Same questions, right? Same evaluators, right? What more? We sat on the same bench to write the exam. All conditions equal, right? You got it now. This is what we are talking about. Since this is a perfect world, we can always have perfect solutions. And you know what? There is a good chance that we will go abroad for higher studies or job. What will they do even if they manage to pass the hurdles? Can't you see that we make better citizens?

So we, the people of today and tomorrow, who earn six digit salary, who sits in the comfort of an a/c room and a connected computer, who did not have the advantage of reservations till today or who had achieved financial stability and social status due to the same reservations, unanimously declare that reservation is no longer needed. Or if you insist, give the reservation only on the basis of annual income so that we can conveniently forget many others. By the theory of mathematical induction or using a curve of extrapolation, all OBCs and SC/STs have attained forward status as of today (dated and signed). After all, this is India sans corruption, as we have passed fifty years of freedom. More than the facts, that figure horrifies us. Long live equality.

I agree. Not on thy grace, but only and ONLY on your merits.

References:

Mandatharangal
Time and Tide

God's Own Country, Our Own Problems!

2006-04-25T21:47:00.000-07:00

This discussion thread on the proposed Smart city in Cochin inspired some thoughts.

Having lived in Dubai from 1999 to 2005 and witnessed the kind of growth that a small city like Dubai is achieving, it is not easy to avoid mentioning a force known as Dubai Holding for its vision and investment skills. It is amazing to see the development and speed that is going on and how it has transformed the tiny nation
to focus into investments in areas other than oil. Its about creating opportunities. And Smart city is about the same.

What are the kind of jobs that Smart city would create? To build the infrastructure, that includes facilities such as buildings, roads, communication, water and electricity to name a few, the project would give jobs for tens of thousands of people for a minimum number of years and a permanent job for the maintenance workers. Then there are requirements for software engineers, administrative staff, office assistants etc. More and more residential buildings and hotels would come up as time passes which would bring in more and more jobs. People will have more reasons to travel to this place which would have an impact in businesses elsewhere. That is hell lot of jobs, direct and indirect. Silly to say that it would not create jobs for the common man!

Real estate is booming in Cochin and even in Alwaye and has brought fortune to many. There was rumour that Muslim league has bought land in and around the area where Smart city is going to come up. There was no guarantee that it would be a reality and if it was, the word was out and everybody knew about the development. So it is not easy to eat the rumour that only Muslim league could buy the land. What happened to the land they amassed around the proposed Express highway? Who killed the project and why?

When a company makes a multi-billion investment, we do not expect them to make profits in thousands. And it is natural for them to ask for security of their money in some strict terms. By the way, even when Smart city itself is not in a position to launch, who will bet on a green signal for another project in the coming years. If we don't have the money to invest, let somebody do it and who in the world better than Dubai Holding? Whom else we are expecting to do it for us for 10 rupee profit?

It is funny to hear that since Dubai wants to kill the competition, they might even kill the Smart city for Dubai to prosper. Dubai has its own limitations in land, weather, greenery, human resources etc. Would somebody invest billions and keep it stale for another one of its business to prosper? Hard to believe! Another thought is that it will take away some of the jobs from overseas back to India. Serious or not, interesting is the way people think!

Other than the cries of foul and corruption, our political parties have failed to bring in an understanding on the terms and conditions as well as opportunities of the project. We might want to see action rather than a stalemate. Each time a project comes up, that's what we can see. A stalemate where people of Kerala will never win. Still we think that politicians, left or right, are there for our prosperity. Wake up dears.

Who benefits if Smart city does not come up? There will be more unemployed people to work for the politicians or take quotation jobs to kill others or carry out thefts to a do a better living. So 'Janakeeyasoothranam' is the only way out? Didn't I hear that there too was corruption? Intentions of the company or our politicians are clear. To make money or profit out of this issue or business. The development that would bring in is real. Let's forget the first and go for the latter. I don't think that our politicians live out of the salary from the government alone.

Smart city may not become a reality even though Judiciary had a say on it. For the last 10 years at least, we have compared
ourself as a potential threat to Bangalore, Hyderabad and Noida, kept boasting about the latency and bandwidth and the topological importance of Cochin, but nothing happened. 10 years from now, we would be doing the same thing and would be going to polls to vote the same politicians who will win this year's election. Because we think a little too much! Eh?

She made me bankrupt

2006-04-11T22:16:00.000-07:00

Most of the men's hostels in IIT Madras are sandwiched between two small gates at the rear end of the beautiful IIT campus. The hostels are named after the rivers in India and spread over one kilometre stretch between the rear gates. The gates do not allow heavy traffic as it has width just enough for a bicycle or motor cycle. One of this gate, situated close to the hostels where graduate students live, opens to Velacheri and the other one, which has an easy access for the under graduate students, to Taramani, two slums where mosquitoes have a better standard of living. I was living in Brahmaputra, probably the hostel with bigger rooms and an easy access from the upper floors to the hostel mess hall, closer to the Velacheri gate.

On a beautiful nice evening in Oct 1998, a rich mosquito from Velacheri made a visit to my hostel room. As a matter of fact, mosquitoes never required an invitation or security check to visit the hostels. Hence she* came, accepted my hospitality, kissed my cheek, drank my blood and left the room in haste without saying thanks. In fact she had brought me a present called Malaria which I could know about in a few days time. For a day or two, I was having fever that would come and go and temperature used to peek during evenings followed by a sudden dip that would make me shiver. Usual prescriptions for fever did not bring any relief and when I could not handle the chills anymore, I wanted my friends to take me to the IIT hospital.
The students ward was almost full, with a bed or two vacant. The ceiling fans were on and seeing that I promptly requested for a bed in the staff section, just opposite to that of students. Fortunately the request was granted and I had the whole ward for myself as there were no other patients. Friends used to take turns, to keep me in good spirits, including one woman who later became my wife. She brought me food everyday from the home of Gangadharan sir who was doing his PhD but living in a quarters with his wife. Narayanankutti went to the extent of washing my clothes. It took two complete weeks to recover and get discharged from the hospital but many more weeks to get back to normal health.
I wanted to thank Gangadharan sir and decided to take him for lunch or dinner. I was indebted to him, like many others. He told me that if I really wanted to repay the debt, I should help people in distress and need. He wanted me to have the debt unpaid. His wish was to get the debt multiplied so that the good deed would carry on. I realised for once and all that I had become bankrupt where money would never have a say.

* Malaria (n.): An infectious disease characterized by cycles of chills, fever, and sweating, caused by a protozoan of the genus Plasmodium in red blood cells, which is transmitted to humans by the bite of an infected FEMALE anopheles mosquito.

The Psychology of Blogging

2006-03-30T23:42:00.000-08:00

There is no reason for me to believe that what I write in this blog is good for reading. It can be attributed to the lack of comments or the lack of confidence in my own writing. Still I write. I keep on writing and that forces me to think on the real reasons for my obsessiveness on blogging. The more I think about it, the more I am becoming clear.

First of all, it allows me to speak up. There are painful experiences from the past. There are mistakes committed that taught priceless lessons. There are disturbing tales of the present. There is wisdom achieved over time. There are messages of caution. Fears for the future. And above all emotions -- happiness, sorrow, anger, disgust, fear -- that would break me unless I take it out of my heart. Hence I discharge. Probably that is the most pleasurable activity in this world (in all respects).

Secondly, it makes me to improve on a language, English, that I haven't mastered yet. Every day a new word is pushed to my inbox by one of the internet sites and even if I do not remember the 365 words, I would definitely learn at least 50 words a year. Writing, and fear of others reading it, polishes my skills on the use of the language.

Third I must consider the good intentions of passing on the wisdom. Everybody has it. As the proverb says, "Learning from others is wise". So if there are wise people out there, they are always welcome.

Last but not least, it is the satisfaction of somebody saying good or bad about your words; your thoughts. Not necessarily the comments. True responses. Responses triggered not because of obligation or with the intention of getting publicity. Probably it reminded them of their childhood. Possible that it allowed them to take a wiser decision. Or it could have inspired a greeting or a "thank you" card or "get well soon" wish or "I love you" message.

Blogs have made this world to shrink and allowed us to express and expand. It saved us from the boredom of emails and enhanced the power of thinking. In September 2005, a google search took me to a lost friend Nandhan bhai and introduced me to this beautiful world of blogging. From then onwards, I could see this world from many perspectives; thanks to the historian of Kodakara for his witty and simple narrative style, thanks to the creative discussion on kids and parenthood triggered by this blog from Kuttiedathi , thanks to Achinthya for inspiring me to write this post through one of her comments and the command of the English language I found in her blog. And of course, thanks to the numerous bloggers for their blogs and comments in these and other ones I have not seen yet.

Keep going! Keep blogging!

Excuse Me!

2006-03-28T23:00:00.000-08:00

I am an opportunist. Otherwise I would not have come back to nonvegetarian food at the very first opportunity. I embraced vegetarianism and continued it for almost two years not because of my hate toward nonvegetarian food. To put it simply, my lover was a vegetarian and I wanted to show my support for her eating habits. Having proved that I can live without it, circumstances where it is difficult to get vegetarian food or where it is costlier than its counterpart made me to come back with more willingness than my eagerness to go the other way. One prominent writer had pointed out that there is not enough vegetable in this world to feed the nonvegetarian community. Too good not to believe, right?

For some people who do not agree to killing human beings, there is an excuse for the killing of animals for food. And even those who do not eat nonvegetarian food will have an excuse for killing ants or insects. Antibiotic prescriptions kill the viruses or bacterias that otherwise would kill you. Its survival of the fittest and opportunism at its very best. There is an excuse for every act we think is justifiable. People do think differently. For some, killing ants is not a problem; for
some, killing chicken is not a problem; for some, killing his siblings is not a problem. The triangle of Death, Decay and Life says that decay is the beginning of all life.

Watching the movie "Achanurangatha Veedu", a disturbing but original tale of the tragedy of a family (hence the society), I could not help myself from thinking. So I gave it more than one thought. Bible says "Not on your merits but on his grace". My journey to find out the true meaning of life continues in this world of vegetarian and non-vegetarian food, antibiotics and pesticides, rape and murder, love and passion. Like everybody, I have excuses for my each and every action. You might say that I am wrong. You have reasons for the same. What did I say? Give it a second thought, my dear!

Just because the nurse brought me to the hands of my father or grand mother, I was born as a Hindu. An error from the nurse or doctor could have easily made me to a Christian or Muslim, if birth was the only criterion. Then, my mother could have been my aunt or neighbour, my sister could have been my wife, my brother could have been just my neighbourhood friend who wo
uld later stab me because of the distinct politics we follow. We followed it not because of our knowledge or any policy. It was just because our parents followed it. If there were only one man and a woman from which this earth evolved, everybody are relatives. Then each marriage is incest. To reject that theory, we must have excuses. I remember the pledge that was repeated with atmost indifference, trying to escape from the morning sun, every day at school; "India is my country. All Indians are my brothers and sisters".

Goodbye to a Banyan Tree!

2006-03-22T00:55:00.000-08:00

I was standing on the concrete steps that lead to the river, Bharatapuzha, in Thirunavai temple. It was the beginning of June in 2003. A few feets away, between the temple and the steps, stood a giant banyan tree with its huge shades protecting the whole place like a knight. A bunch of bats were hanging on its branches and from a distance it looked like a torn black umbrella. With whatever little water flowing in a multitude of branches, courtesy to a delayed rainy season, the river looked like a painting of the banyan tree on a sand canvas. Brown broken pieces of small clay pots were spread all over the sand like shattered dreams. Above my head the sun was shining; behind the leaves and countless bats that looked like souls on their way to eternity but unwilling to leave and holding on. The air was pleasantly cool filled with the fragrance of flowers and the aroma of burning incense sticks. A soothing devotional song played in the background occasionally interrupted by the chime of bells from the temple. Few feets below and away on the small islands of sand surrounded by water that goes only up to knees, there were two three lines of people with wet clothes offering the last rites to their beloved, repeating whatever was told by the priest in sanskrit. Few understood the meaning.

It was the tenth day after his soul had left the body. Each day rituals were carried out at home but crows, representatives or messengers from another world, stayed away. The mixture of sesame, flower, water, banana and rice was conveniently offered to fish in an unused well as alternative to the crows after each unsuccessful wait. The absence of crows to accept the offering left a bad taste but it was not unexpected for more than one reason. Till that day, celebrations were given a break and non-vegetarian food was prohibited. And from next day onwards, life would flow freely till death comes. The neighbourhood had already come back to normality. The border lines of happiness and sorrow was too narrow and undefined like the absence of crows.

The bottom of the river where it meets the steps was made deep enough for a dip. The wet towel that used to be around my waist for the last 10 days would be worn across the chest during the rituals. Immediate relatives of the deceased including siblings and their sons and daughters were lined in a half-seated posture. On a piece of banana leaf, each of us offered balls of a mix of rice, flower, sesame and water in between prayers. It was give-back time. The difference was that both of us were alive when he was feeding me. It was tasty too. I knew that mine was not. Understanding my helplessness, I offered my tears. Like all times, he would definitely know.

The small clay pot that contained the ashes would be buried in the sand, as opposed to my belief that it would be floated. The search was on to find a place on the sand; a place clean and unused. The remains, the portion of it that was brought, was buried near a spot that would be insignificant from the moment we turn our back. On this bed of sand, near this sacred temple, there is no difference among human beings, reduced to ashes, on any grounds. They all rest in peace and harmony while the living ones will go back to fight for the materialistic world. Next to that small island of sand, the upper edges of the shades of the banyan tree met a channel of water. In the relection, well below the surface of water, the leaves and bats were hugging and shaking hands as if telling good byes.

A Fine Answer!

2006-03-22T00:41:00.000-08:00

What is the most used three word sentence in English? Well, you know about two words and I don't want to write about it. Is it 143 (One Four Three that stands for the number of letters in I Love You) or 333 (Triple Three that stands for How Are You)? I would bet on the latter as I feel that love (as opposed to romance or sex) is a phenomenon that is rarely found these days. And to make things better, I also think that meaninglessness has found a meaning above all in this current world. So I would give my votes to that little sequence of words we use it quite often with all true sense but purpose.

Being the first set of words that would start a conversation even among strangers, How R U has become so common that the answer to it is almost known and hence any other reply is not expected. It is useless to answer anything different because nobody is really interested. It could be part of courtesy but it could pass for fraudulence too. In this context, it was natural for me to get interested in the answers to this lovely useless enquiry!

Consider this reply which is the most common. "Fine! Thank You". Or is it "Fine Thank You!"? Probably the second. Saying thanks is a quality that is found among most people. Because it is easy to 'say thanks'. And it ends there. So a polished (fine) 'thank you' can easily pass as a reply to the three word buzz 'How r u'. Or to make it better, give it a shot like 'Fine! Thank You and You?'. The ball is in other party's court and having answered the obvious a smile comes to our lips. Let's listen to what party B has to say. "I am Good". That is selfishness. He is saying that he is good and rest are not. Or is it that "I am doing Good"? Probably. I am happy that I am doing good and I would be better if others are not because that makes me feel good.

"Better", says a confident lot. A better answer to escape from the monotony.

"Not Bad" is not a bad answer as it keeps "Bad" as the benchmark. An expected reply from the pessimistic.

"Okay!". Here comes the perfect one who says he is not yet mad.I am okay and I will tell you if I am not. So send me to the mental hospital when I say otherwise.

"Usual!". I have been telling you everyday the same and today is not different. Why do you ask me?

I know that it is crazy. But then this a crazy (and unfair too) world. Lets accept it and go on. That brings me to my favourite reply.

"No Complaints!"

Rank: A Curse and Burden

2006-03-08T20:54:00.000-08:00

I got the intimation from Calicut university just when I was about to wind up my Masters in IIT Madras (Chennai) by the end of Nov 1998. I was surprised because I had said good bye to Calicut university exactly three years before. But then these are expected from a system where delay is the order. The letter and a certificate informed me that I am the first rank holder of Computer Science and Engineering batch, 1995. When my father's younger brother told that we would publish it in newspapers, I said No. I knew that there was no significance. I knew that there were equal or better performers. It was no mean feat with 4 years of hard work especially when I was down for almost a year with a series of surgeries in 1993. But ranks are not significant. It just says that the candidate is a potential performer. Just like others. Probably I was a bit more patient, spent a little bit more time in finishing up the portions, wrote the answers in a bit more detail without skipping a single question. That's it. The marks came along and rank was simply a byproduct.

A few years back, I got a call from home telling me that my cousin (Raji Sivaraman), father's sister's daughter, has the 13th rank in the SSLC list. Incidentally, she had broken a record I had set for SSLC examination in my village and that was sweet. Did I ever inspire her to study so hard? Did I ever inspire a single person from my village to work hard to achieve heights? Did I ever inspire anybody to take on life as it comes? If yes, that's the most important thing in my life than a mere typewritten certificate. A rank is not an end. It's just a beginning. A beginning of more hardship to come in the never ending pursuit of truth in this journey of life.

It brings a smile when I hear about the tension of parents on the date of publishing the results or the kind of circus they do to get a spot in the first three in competitions. I am lucky that I did not have such parents. I am happy that my parents allowed me to study the way I wanted. I am glad because they encouraged reading and also allowed me to help in their work. I am thankful to God that I did not get the toys I wanted, I had only a limited set of dress to change so that I was never confused on what to wear, I always liked the food and found it tasty because it was not unlimited and was available only when the time came. So nobody will be surprised if I tell that I knew about the Engineering entrance examination results during a lazy morning walk on the way back home after buying meat on one of those festival occasions. A school teacher who is just blocks away from my home called me to inform that the results had come. He showed more interest than self to search for my number and it is people like him of Mundathikode village, my wellwishers, who had instilled confidence during my early stages of life.

Recently I heard that the education ministry in Kerala has decided to change to a grade system in 10th standard than the old rank system. It is one of the good decisions that will make life better for many students. I always had my doubts on the rank system. How can somebody be possibly said of holding first rank when the second or third rank holders are only one or may be half marks behind. It is not fair because we are comparing apples and oranges. The circumstances are not same and that is the reason why I oppose it. For example:

1. It is possible that the rank holders are from two different schools where different set of environments exist forlearning.
2. The teachers who taught the students could be skilled differently and some credit goes to them too.

3. Parents of the student do play a role. The equation is not same with a well educated couple and somebody who have not even finished preschool.

4. What about a headache or a health condition that makes it bad for the candidate on the day or around?

5. What if somebody dies in the family? Where is the weightage for time lost/psychological condition?

6. What about the mental condition of the teacher who is evaluating the paper? What if there was a big fight at home before he/she starts evaluation?
I can think of a lot of points in these lines to prove that grade system is better than a rank system. I wish good luck to the new system. Recently I heard from my wife, who incidentally is the second rank holder of EE 1996 batch from Kerala university and the first rank holder of PSC lecturer examination, that one main reason for her to like me was the rank I mentioned before. What a shame? Good that her reasons had changed in the years after marriage. I love her for not considering the ranking in the society, a curse still happens to rule (even educated mind). I just hope that our daughter loves us for the parents we are and not for the burden we hold.

Word of the day : Pretension!

2006-03-06T23:42:00.000-08:00

Thanmathra is one of the better movies I have seen recently and surely the best among the recent offers from Malluwood. It is a movie with a soul. At least the comment would not be: "What bad karma did I do in my previous birth to watch this movie today"! For that matter, please do not expect a review here. The movie, I thought, has perfection in most frames and so when I heard that one scene just before the interval was taken off due to pressure from family viewers, I felt bad. It was a bedroom scene with the characters Ramesan nair and his wife (played by the versatile Mohanlal and Meera Vasudevan) silhouetted against the wall in blue light. It was a brilliant work but had to be censored, after showing it in theatres for some time, at the request of an egoistic and pretentious family audience. Just when I thought that the golden Bharathan touch was coming back by one of the disciples of his comrade Padmarajan, it was uprooted by the saviours of Kerala culture. What an idiotic decision!

Ignorance is not bliss. Children will grow with bits and pieces of sex education that they get unofficially from friends and relatives. That little information is dangerously short of the actual and original. We must change to accept the truth. When will we understand that sex can no longer be taken as a taboo? When will we realize that there is nothing to be guilty if we want to talk about a subject as good as music? When will the third rated weekly magazines stop the mutilated descriptions? When will we have a system that changes the unchanged? And ultimately when will we stop pretending?

Quotable Quote

2006-02-27T20:12:00.000-08:00

"Height is measured from Heart!"
- Suresh T. Bhaskaran (till somebody claims the ownership).

Pricelessness of a Prize!

2006-02-22T23:54:00.000-08:00

The paddy fields were used as sesame fields at that time of the year. I was helping parents to prepare for the harvest, to even out the land around the house for collection and drying out the sesame plants. After clearing the land off grass and roots, a layer of mud will be used to make a smoother surface on which a mixute of cowdung and water will be applied to fill the cracks and the thin coating will block the mud coming out for a good two weeks. This was the cost efficient replacement of tarpolins or mats made of bamboo ply. It was May and after my 10th exams. The result of 10th had arrived. All of us were with muddy hands and legs when an auto rickshaw came to a halt in front of the house. They introduced themselves as the office bearers of Chaithanya club functioning close to one mile from my home. They wanted to give me a cash award for securing the highest marks among the students of the village. The annual function, dance programmes of kids of the block followed by a movie or drama, was to be held in an hour and the last minute rush could be attributed to their lack of planning or interest to add this common item as it normally can be seen during the time of the year or a probable recommendation from a distant relative or friend who must have mentioned my name. Whatever be the case, a prize is a prize and getting it in front a crowd, a set of people among I had grown up, is priceless. A bit nervous as it was not planned, I was on the stage an hour later to receive the prize and say thanks. I remember mentioning about the competition between malayalam and english medium schools and the possibilities of malayalam mediums in securing good positions in competitive exams. The cash award was 25 rupees. We came back home walking.

Similar functions were held in the next months. A combined function from both the panchayat office as well as school was conducted in the school auditorium, temperorily created by removing the partitions of the class rooms. There was no vote of thanks from students who received the prize as it was not part of agenda. There were cash rewards of 100 and 200 from school and panchayat office respectively. Tharangini arts society in Athany was grand in conducting such functions. They used to combine it with movie or drama shows and used to bring celebrities from the literary circles for the inauguration of the function. Ms.Sara Joseph had the privilege this time (or is it the other way around), I was sharing the stage with two other students. They accepted the prize and occupied the seats but I promised to deliver a vote of thanks which was accepted with a thunderous applause. Gaining confidence, I spent a good 10-15 minutes explaining the issues students face due to strikes, personal egos between students and teachers etc. Each statement was well applauded and I had to wait it to stop before going to the next one. At the end of the speech, I collapsed to tears when I thanked my parents and other wellwishers. The award was a medal made of 2gms of gold and a certificate. As expected, we refused to sell it even though money was short in meeting my education.

The biggest surprise came one day when one of my friend Nijo Goerge, we started the primary education together but he had to continue one more year in one class at the insistence of his father and I always wanted to figure out why, with whom I used to cycle my way to school, came to me with an envelope saying that it was a present from my class mates. Knowing me, he had blocked the chances of returning it telling that he will not do it and that he will not disclose the names of friends. The envelope contained 75 rupees and some paise. Most of my class mates, I knew it, were sacrificing whatever they had in hand to give me a present and they knew that cash was good as I needed it badly. I knew that they were from average or less than average, only financially, homes and they would have struggled to get that amount of money. Probably something they might have got during Vishu season or saved from money for candies or supplies. Or something they had saved to see their favoruite movie or spend during the festival season. I always believed that it is not the quantity but the quality that is to be appreciated. I mentioned the amount in all cases just to make a comparison and to explain the worthiness of this priceless gift. I would rate it as the best gift I have ever received in my life because it came from people whom I loved, who loved me and it was the maximum they could afford. It has more value than the lakhs or millions I can visualize today. Having such a set of friends at that time of my life makes me proud and I feel guilty of losing contact with them during the mad rush of life.

At least I wish to make myself clear by saying what I felt. I want to let them know, if at all they get a chance to read this blog which is highly unlikely, that I am indebted to them for the love they have extended toward me. "Thank you my dear friends. Your love and faith has always been an inspiration for me to proceed in life with confidence and courage. The strength of your belief in my abilities has led me so far and I hope that I have not let you down. I am full, heart with joy and eyes with tears. I wish to remind that you all are fresh in my memory and that I love you."

Gods Must Be Crazy!

2006-02-03T12:06:00.000-08:00

Talk of the town is freedom of expression. There are feelings hurt because newspapers from some countries have published caricatures which is forbidden in the religion. Media can talk about freedom of expression but they will have to answer the lack of imagination to convey the same message in a better manner without hurting the feelings of a set of people. It looks highly offensive because media knew that it was forbidden and still they went on to publish the same. Interestingly, in order to deliver a message, they have chosen an entire religion or its leader as the target subject. That generalization is a big mistake. Goods and citizens of the country of the media are targeted which again is wrong. An otherwise focussed message is blown out of proportion and this is misuse of freedom.

Any religion, I believe, will have the strongest roots to withstand such issues and it will remain to be so. More than the God, each religion has a culture that makes this world diverse and less boring like any variety we can imagine. If revenge is the order of the day, we are underestimating the power of God, be it any religion, to save the religion. If God can create, sustain and destroy, then why is there a need for human beings to step in? Peace can only be restored with respect and love as revenge tends to get repeated infinitely.

There are rules that control governments, judiciary, religion etc. There are rules for almost anything in life. Isn't it a tragedy that media (originally a set of human beings themselves) do not have any control? Gods must be crazy to let out that bug in an otherwise perfect program!!!

Failure means delay, not defeat!

2006-01-31T13:08:00.000-08:00

Way back in childhood, I remember my mother (I was brought up in my father's elder brother's house and I used to call them dad and mom. Here I refer to her whose stories and supervision had a lot of influence in building my character) telling me a story of a king who was defeated and had found refuge in a cave and was almost on the verge of giving up. He, as I remember now, was defeated many times, not once. Nursing his wounds and the thoughts of a bleak future, he noticed a spider trying to weave its net from one side of the cave to the other side. Only when you are at loss, you begin to notice the surroundings and your observation power comes back to you. The spyder was failing each time but never gave up. It tried harder each time to reach the other end. It took time between the leaps but persisted and at last could achieve what it was trying to.

The King learned from the spider and tried harder next time to win back his kingdom. Although it might look fictitious or simple, there was a great lesson for me to learn. Failure, for the first time comes naturally for many because of lack of preparation. Not knowing how to pull the strings, not knowing where to go. But you learn from failures. The second attempt is always better as atleast one reason for the previous failure is known and you might try to correct it this time. It takes time and effort but ultimately will come to a stage when you know how to do something. The story has always been a huge inspiration for me like many other ones although my mother might not have known it. It helped me in my failures.

It was sometime in March 1999 I got a mail from my research guide letting me know that my thesis had come back after review and that he wanted to talk to me. I was working in Wipro Infotech in Bangalore and had just completed three months. MS in IIT is different from MTech in more than one ways. MS can be described as a mini PhD where a new idea need to be supported with working examples as a thesis and will be reviewed by at least two faculty outside the institution. MTech is more towards course work and hectic schedules that would end up in a project work, need not be original, that will be reviewed within the institution. Practically, MTech was good with more exposure to more subjects and could be completed in just one and half years. MS, on the other hand, can take anywhere from one and half to three years (with stipend) or even more. MS work and thesis will be constantly monitored by research guide (well, it depends), a review committee that consists of one or two professors from the same as well as another department in addition to the guide. It is after the approval of the final synopsis and demonstration, the thesis is submitted and sent to two anonymous reviewers by the administrative section.

I have been a little indifferent during my second year in IIT, but did make use of the first and last years very well to come up with a thesis at the end of the third year, in Dec 1998 to be precise. My lab mate had already left IIT by that time and had established himself at work in Bangalore after submitting his thesis by the beginning of his (and mine too as we joined together) third year. There are MS students who finish in less than 20 months depending on the dedication and guidance they receive from the guide. I have always been slow, but steady and looking for quality than quantity.

On one of those hot days of Chennai, a saturday, I found myself sitting in the house of my guide and contemplating a serious problem, the solution of which will have serious impacts in my life later. One of the reviewers of my thesis had mentioned that the work is satisfactory and can be awarded the MS degree. Another one insisted that though I have done work in cutting edge technology and quality is enough the quantity is found insufficient to grant a degree. There was not an immediate solution as I have been to work and there were many things that were committed. Verbally as well as in terms of finance. The problem loomed above my head as Damocles's sword. I searched for empathy and my guide did not move. I looked for sympathy and my guide's wife, from whom I have had many tasty lunch and dinners, retreated to kitchen. I sat there in a chair in the middle of the room; motionless, tears blocking my view and blinding my thoughts. It seemed that I had hit a wall and a decision was imminent. It is most painful when there are few choices, all difficult and demanding effort, but at the same time less confusing as the ways out were limited.

My guide even pointed out that I can continue or end as if it did not matter to him either way. I feast on such attacks on my consiousness. It motivates and makes me to concentrate. In a few minutes, I had changed and was back to normal sense. I did not want my three years of work go wasted. I thought that it is my MS after all and I have to continue to get it, whatever be the cost. It was one of those moments in my life, moments of truth, where I had to take a decision which would have long lasting impacts in my later life. Foreseeing them and acting accordingly is a quality that I have enjoyed so far and wishes to continue in future too. I informed my decision to my guide then and there. I was confident and desperate. The new look might have surprised my guide. Do not know whether he had expected it. I found a different person in him trying to lead me to a destiny that he would like me to have. Was he testing my abilities? My persistence? I would never know unless he tells me. He sat beside me to explain the plans and the work that I should carry out in order to successfully complete the MS (again). He pointed out some benchmark systems with which I should compare my system to add value to the work.

Fortunately, I had completed a research paper and got it accepted in an international workshop to be held in Seattle, US (the third international workshop on autonomous agents) even after submitting my thesis (it is usually the other way with researchers), thanks to an inspired recommendation from another faculty and continued pressure from my would-be wife. It is possible that the lack of a research paper in my thesis, which usually is a norm, must have prompted the reviewer to summarize his conclusions. Whatever be the case, all the struggles were to make me better and I am thankful for the opportunities. A smooth sea won't make good sailors, I had learned. It was not a smooth sea.

After making sure that what I need to do, I went back to Bangalore. From the next day, I used to come early to office and leave very late. I used to spend two hours every day for my research. It was informed to my supervisors but by the end of March they came back to me telling that I should concentrate only on one thing. I decided to take leave for about a month, of course without pay, and went to IIT to work on my thesis from April 1st. There was no stopping me as I worked harder and did not waste even a minute to come up in good colours by the end of the month to wind up the comparisons as well as additional tests. MS thesis was resubmitted with additional work and comparisons and ofcourse with a reference to the paper in the international conference. I had checked to see that if there are any other papers accepted from India for the conference and found that there were none.

My guide was most understanding and helpful during these days than any other time and helped me to submit the thesis in time so that I would be getting my degree during the ceremony that is going to be conducted somewhere in July or August. The thesis got reviewed in time and there were no hiccups. In return for the understanding Wipro had showed, I took over the charge, it was an open question to a gathering, to teach threads programming for the 11th (or 13th?) Wipro university batch. I tried my best and taught to the best of my abilities. The class went on for three days and it was a satisfying experience for me as I found out that there is a teacher that lies within. The efforts were further paid off by the attendees selecting me as one of the best tutors out of the many who taught the classes for an entire one month period.

Looking back, I feel that it could have taken a moment of my life to decide right or wrong and that moment of decision making was the test of the character in me. It was easy to accept defeat and go on with it to live in shame for the rest of the life. Life, I think, by providing challenges expect more out of us. Responding to the call, we actually come one level up. It was one of those days that would separate a person from having success and failure. It was one of those days that would make a person stand out in the crowd. When I think about it now, I feel that it was something good to happen to me as I had learned to accept failures and fight the same to succeed.

A Birthday Wish!

2006-01-20T09:23:00.000-08:00

I am getting long weekends, mostly three days, in US. A luxury which was not available in Dubai and a time to recharge the batteries so that work is never boring. It was a long weekend with this Christmas also. So on saturday morning, I sat on the Poang chair recently bought and decided to make phone calls to a lot of friends and relatives to wish them Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. It was 24th December and it meant that I had completed 31 years on earth. I did not have any plans to celebrate the birthday as I usually do it as per Malayalam calendar following the star, Aswathy, on which I was born. Still I got a call to wish me happy birthday. It was not unexpected as the person had never forgotten to say it till we met eight years back. I used to get a Rakhi from the same person regularly for the last eight years. It was nice to talk to her on phone. We might have talked for more than 30 minutes before deciding to stop.

I called home and it did not take long. Each recharge on the long distance calling plan would limit my talk to the number of minutes available. Can relations be kept as healthy as it was with less than 10 minutes talk every week as compared to the everyday presence? It is a question I ask to myself regularly. In the next 2 hours, I talked to only two or three friends but each call I took a good amount of time to complete and by the end of it, I was totally exhausted. Wanted to call many but could not. The evening was spent outside and came back late night. The next day, I went on a Boston trip which required a lot of time and concentration. It also demanded full attention to the places, friends, their family etc. I came back the next day night tired of driving the whole day. Could not call any other friends or relatives and by that time Christmas was over.

I had always wished to be the first in wishing others but never made it. It requires a good deal of effort than sending a one line mail that says "Merry Christmas or Happy and Prosperous New Year". It is cheap; does not cost a penny; and meaningless, so I can send it as much as I want. Given a chance, will I do anything to make it good for others? That is when somebody is in real need or when somebody is in bad health. Will I be able to make a point that I do care? Will I be able to spend a little for those who are in desperate need of money and can't find it easily? I understand that it is possible with a little effort. By not forgetting to say I care or I love and by not hesitating to spend some money that would otherwise afford me a hair cut or a lunch or a toy for my daughter. Help, however big or small, matters a lot. But be reminded that it matters only if provided in time. So my birthday wish is to make me wish others in time and to do whatever possible to make it fulfilled.

One Step Ahead, Always!!!

2005-12-30T23:02:00.000-08:00

Island (Bangalore - Kanyakumari) express entered the Bangalore central station at around 4:30am in the morning. It was a cool morning in the early December in 1998. I was travelling from home to join Wipro Infotech, a job I secured through campus interviews in IIT Madras. Without taking my luggage out, I got down and looked around for Prince bhai. He was supposed to receive me and I will be staying with him and Varghese Panikker for some time in HAL 3rd Stage. I acted easy as if I am not new to the place just to fool the porters and thieves. I had heard stories and was not very happy with it. Every single one from the train had left the station. I searched him along the full stretch of the platform. No signs at all. It was still dark outside and the cold was getting inside. Was there a miscommunication? I traced phone calls in mind and was pretty sure that it was this day that I am supposed to be in B'lore. There can't be a mistake. Something would have happened to him on the way? He had to leave town for some emergency which he could not communicate? What to do? Mobiles were not popular. There were no phone numbers to call early in the morning. The station and the place looked like a totally new world. No sense of direction. I thought about the emails exchanged and it suddenly struck me that I have a way out. I went inside the train again and took out a folded paper from the side zipper of a carry bag. It was the printout of an email that read almost similar to what is given below. As can be seen, it was from a true friend who goes that extra step ahead always when it matters.

"Dear Manthru: Welcome to Bangalore. Although I know that you will be staying with Prince and that you do not want to disturb me to receive you, even after I promised the same, I think that you should keep the following information handy in case of an emergency. I am staying in an apartment in Tippasandra, the address of which is given below. It will be x kilometers from the main railway station and y kilometers if you are getting down in Cantonment station. The rickshaw charges will be roughly this much although they might ask you for double or even triple. Make sure that you bargain the price before getting in. Be alert and act as if you know the place. There are these and these landmarks, depending on your travel, on the way and when you reach Tippasandra main junction, you will have to take a left. In just 100-200 meters you will see a water tap, you may not get water of course, and see an apartment with a balcony and stairs on your left. The entrance to the apartment is ..... and the door will look like ........" The message went on for two pages with detailed descriptions of how to reach his apartment. It was a message from a friend who could foresee issues that I might face and willing to spend some time so that I would be in a better position. Name of that friend is Rajeev Gopalakrishnan (Rajeev G. for short). The mail saved me on that day and I did not have any problems in reaching him on that morning. Surprisingly he was expecting me. We had breakfast and contacted Prince bhai who had returned from the railway station. He was late because there were no buses to reach the station that early.

I was supposed to join the next day. It was my first job. First time in Bangalore. I wanted to go from Tippasandra to Mission road where my office was. Rajeev stepped in as he knew the place very well and so decided to give me a live demonstration of how to reach the place. He was also working in the same company but in a different department. We went in a bus and on the way I learned the name of stops, exact amount for the trip, a bit of Kannada that the bus conductors will use to request passengers to move inside (it sounded Ulagada Pani and in Malayalam it might pass for Move You PIG!).I did not ask but he kept on teaching me as if I am going for an exam the next day. He wanted me to know everything before I move on alone in the mad rush of Bangalore city. Finally we got down in a stop and pointing to a big building he told me: "See! That is the famous Mallya hospital. I wanted you to see it. Mallya, you know? Kalyani (Or King Fisher?) Beer? Okay! You got it. Now this is not the stop you will be getting down tomorrow when you go to office. Actually you have to get down in the previous stop. We got down here because I want you to see another route to your office in case you miss that actual busstop. Don't worry. When we come back, we will use the other route." How many friends do you have who will care you this way? Rajeev is special and he has a special way to treat his friends.

In IIT itself, we had found out that our wavelengths were same. We were there to represent our respective hostels, cross borders to join other hostel members on their tour trips, to arrange the screening of malayalam movies, to go for movies outside IIT, to explore Parris (a place in walking distance from Madras main railway station) for bargains, to walk along streets commenting on the huge cutouts of Tamil movie heroes (not many heroines) and probably the same tastes on commenting the women occasionally. We married during the same time period (almost) and both of us have a cute daughter each to speak of. We explored Poondy bazaar of T.Nagar, subway system on the entire stretch of Guindy to Madras station, Vadapalani and Anna Nagar. We sat together with the entire gang of Tapti at the open air theatre on every possible occasion, generally on all saturdays, and created every opportunity to make others laugh. So it was almost natural that both of us decided to leave existing room mates to find out another apartment for ourselves. Rajeev has a habit of reading the advertisements and with a budget and correct requirements, thanks to him again, we searched the breadth and depth of Bangalore. We were promised a good two bedroom apartment in Domlur by one gentle man and later he said sorry to leave us with a cramped apartment in Vivek Nagar. We had to live there till we got our advance payment back. I got one more person, again working with Wipro, to share the apartment. He was my BTech classmate and his name was Ansar. Rumour is that Ansar and myself had woken up early to take bath and get ready even before Rajeev to go and see his would-be wife for the very first time.

There is a saying: "You can't choose your parents, but you can choose your friends". Everybody has friends. But there are few who would go that extra step ahead to care for you. To take the effort and pain to spend some time willingly. And more importantly, not expecting anything in return. Rajeev is one of them. I am glad that I am one of the many who can claim him as a true friend. An hour and plus long conversation recently with an old school mate of Rajeev brought out some interesting characteristics of the training in Sainik school in Kazhakkoottam and I now believe that there are some true qualities that is inherited from that curriculam.

(L)earning Points...

2005-12-23T12:46:00.000-08:00

US is providing enough opportunities for me to learn. I have started to talk in terms of MILES, FAHRENHEIT, GALLONS and POUNDS instead of kilometers, celsius, litres and kilograms (conversion factors are not always greater than one). I drive on the right hand side of the road (yielding and stopping at times), turn the key right or clockwise to unlock, tap the switches up for light and say "How r u DOING" at every opporuntity that is presented. I have a readymade "You Too" that is in bulk stock so that I might use it (automatically) for a "Talk to You Later" also. There are too many of "Have a Nice Weekend"s that I can't spend. In restaurants or fast food counters, either I have "To Stay" or I will GO. I spend irrespective of whether it is CREDIT or DEBIT. I don't expect to see a petrol pump in US. Instead I see a lot of GAS STATIONs. There are UTILITY BILLS that I have to pay every month and my statements come electronically without a BUCK spent. Trust if I tell you that I don't have a single BILL in my valet. There are enough theft these days even though the streets are crowded with COPs.

The sticker on the electric appliance reads 110V instead of 220V and the plug points are installed such that two pins go to the top and they are not round instead rectangular in shape. On my electricity bill, I get start reading from the time previous tenant left and the MISTAKE is so obvious for the attendant to correct on my first call. If I don't, I get charged for what I did not use. A win win situation for the energy provider as there are not many who cares to call. The price tag in the textiles shop reads $3.99 in big letters and UP in small letters. I take a hat and get screwed as I do not notice the price ($12.99) on the electronic billing machine, I believe that computers cannot make mistakes, at the counter.

At the grocery shop, where the invoice only prints GROCERY against each item, I casually ask how much the packet of frozen vegetables cost and the lady says $1.99. On a second thought, before entering the price, she asks the next salesperson about the price and he says it costs only 99 cents. When I stand amused expecting more suprises, I see a lady bargaining for a free juice for the entire grocery she had bought. I rush for a sale to buy something with a RESTRICTED return policy that I don't realize in advance. Offers galore for mobile connections with JUST $35.99 per month*. What I do not read is the * sign and the conditions (of course in small letters) that state it is only for the first 3 months and with a two year contract. I wake up from the dream with a phone bill on my face that reads $75.99 including tax, surcharge, activation charge, line charge, carrier charge etc. A list of charges starting with each letter in English. Thank God, there are only twenty six.

One cent, which is 100th of a dollar, is called a penny and 5 cents will make it a nickel when ten of it is called a dime. 25 cents is a quarter and is used to park vehicles for 30 minutes. I had seen a 50cents coin recently and saved it as it is not in great circulation. With that kind of money, I can stand in the LINE to CATCH the bus or hire a CAB to reach my destination. Don't ask me whether I am SINGLE or MARRIED. There are other categories as well. SINGLE DIVORCED in case you are curious. Never use the word husband or wife. Use SPOUSE as marriages are allowed between same sex with GAY and LESBIAN unions fighting for rights. States who permitted same sex marriages are already into changing the law again to include divorce among same sex marriages.

Somebody out there is my friend or relative. At least he is my wellwisher as I can see his mails in my mail box regularly. He wants me to have a credit card that offers 0%APR (annual percentage rate, a measure of SOME of the total yearly expense). I feel so good about having somebody here in US to care for me, old BUDDIES sometimes remain OLD, and fill the application in excitement of having one more card to shine in my valet. I forget to turn the page where the charges are mentioned neatly in a table that reads membership fee, late fee, cash withdrawal fee, second year onwards APR of 18.99% etc. My alter ego comes up and laughs at me and we engage in the following conversation.

"Don't laugh at me. I am earning points that I can redeem."
"Really? How much have you earned so far?"
"A couple of thousands!"
"How much did you spend to get that many points?"
"May be 3 times of dollar amount".
"What would you get with that many points?"
"A mouth wash or most probably a roll of toilet tissue".
"Good enough! Get going and have a nice sleep!"

Hat trick

2005-12-13T17:35:00.000-08:00

At least for the time being, cricket has nothing to do with what I am going to write. I have nothing against cricket and if I had taken one hour off the time I had spent for watching cricket on all days for something useful.... what? Nothing! Probably I would be myself the same way I am now. Meaning it would not have made much difference :-) Sounds interesting?

Kerala Kala Samithi, a group of faculty, workers and students who have not forgot their love for togetherness, of IIT Madras (Chennai) used to spend creative time to bring quality hours of entertainment, traditional as well as modern, mainly to get over with the nostalgic feelings of being outside the state. During times of Vishu (April) and Onam (Aug-Sept), it provided a great opportunity for many to show their hidden talents and also to be away from the monotonous nature of research or work. I have been fortunate enough to represent Brahmaputra hostel for almost three years during my stint in IIT as a MS research scholar at the computer science department.

There were great occasions where arrangement of floral decorations, food or entertainment programmes were accepted with ardent heart. I had written, directed and performed three skits in each year with the help of enthusiastic friends and each time I realised the pleasure and pressure of creation. Is it that much to be talked about? Well! Creation always is! Doesn't matter who, what and when! Though the skits were a maximum of 15-20 minutes long, there was a good amount of effort that had put behind to bring it on stage. Let me write about that hat trick and the memorable moments.

Ammayiyammapporu

This was the first skit performed during the Onam celebrations in 1996 and was a remake of the prize winning skit of 1995 from Govt. Engineering College, Thrissur. More on the same can be read from another story (Skits and Hits) but this one too had its share of memories that I would keep for years. The cast, other than myself, was Santhosh (Mala), one of my two year seniors in Thrissur, and Rajeev G (pronounced ji with respect), both from Tapti hostel. I was a regular visitor of Tapti hostel and malayalees in that hostel had little apprehension to accept me as one of them. I am thankful to them for that. Now and then. Rajeev was in the role of my son and Santhosh was acting as his wife where as I was playing the role of mother or mother-in-law (see! it is the same depending on the perspective), the same role I played a year back. As expected, the skit went on to receive good applause from the crowd but there was another memorable incident that happened in between.

There used to be a scene where the mother (or mother-in-law), played my me, slaps the daughter-in-law, frustrated by the indifferent and dominating attitude showed by her son's wife. Santhosh bhai was supposed to turn his face to reduce the effect of getting actually hit, Rajeev who was supposed to be off the scene was to make a sound using his hands to make the audience hear the sound of the slap and I was to only brace him gently still making it feel like a slap. The electric atmosphere of the theatre, the heat of the climax, the excitement of bringing to life a prize winning skit on another stage, being involved in the scene, a lack of timing. I could not know which of it actually attributed as I was running for cover after the skit. I only knew one thing. Santhosh bhai's face was red with an award winning performance.

Kalyanasougandhikam

Boosted by the success of first year's skit, in 1997, I started to work on a script that had been in mind for years. This time there were a lot of new comers in the hostel and I did not have to cross the border to reach Tapti hostel for getting actors. Also the previous years experience would be in their mind and I was afraid too. The script was based on the epic Mahabharata and the plot was Bheeman, the second (actually third) of the Pandavas, going in search of the sougandikam, a rare flower, at the request of his wife Paanjali or Droupadi and on the way having an encounter with his half-brother Hanuman. Sri Hanuman is the only character who appears in both the epics Ramayana and Mahabharata. Bheeman, truly, is a character at loss most of the time, depicted by well known novelists in Malayalam. Some references can be Randamoozham and Ini Njan Urangatte. His wife, being the wife of all his brothers too, was effectively utilising or avoiding him.

The risks of getting the flower was high, the consequences not worth the effort. Still for the sake of love or expectation of possible love, Bheeman went on to meet his destiny, the meeting with his half-brother. I always wondered what they could have possibly talked about. The epic has its own version, but the situation might probe the imagination of many. Vyasa, the author of Mahabharata, had made it to teach Bheeman a lesson by making Hanuman an old and diseased monkey who could not move out of the way. Ideas were pouring, but nothing came strongly to the script and I had to admit that the script needed to accept contributions from Eldo Mathew, who went on to play Panjali, and Praveen Krishna, who played Hanuman. Their suggestion of both characters getting signals, of common origin, from their yawns reminded me of old movies where keys and locks or soap box and covers used to make heroes getting united in the climax scenes. The skit ran on that trick alone. Hanuman in the end makes a statement. "Bheema, my dear brother, you go on to get the flower, useless it may be, ultimately it might reduce the bad smell off your wife's hair!". He, and so I, meant a lot. For those who can think. At least, I wanted to make a point. Are all our goals worth the effort?

IITyil Oru Pranayakalathu...

"After the stupendous success of two skits in the previous years, here comes another presumptous one from Brahmaputra", announcement came in fluent Malayalam, I am taking the liberty to translate it, from Narayanan bhai (who is an assistant professor of Clarkson University now) who was the coordinator of Onam entertainment programmes in 1998. I am leaving it to him to correct my translation as he is too good in the vocabulary and use of English language. It was his constant pressure that made me to come out of my shell; I had kept myself away from movies, Tapti evenings, outings to concentrate on my research during the final eight months; and sleep over a script that was going to be my last in IIT.

Since I was in a love affair during that time, which culminated in my marriage with the same woman, I wanted to talk something about love. There was a skit that was getting rehearsed under the able leadership of Abhilash and Rajeev in Tapti hostel. As a special case, they had even promised a role in that skit but I could not digest some dialogues that were directed towards women and pulled out to make my own. Expectedly, their skit went on to star most Taptians and was applauded as well. The theme was good but I had differences only with the dialogues. India is a democratic country and it gives the citizens freedom of expression. I told Rajeev that we will agree to disagree.

I played a double role (all dreams coming true, at least before a small group) as that of the God of IITs temple and that of Enasu, a typical grocery store owner of Thrissur town. The connection is not clear but my intention was to say that nothing is impossible for the Almighty and he can come in any shape he wishes to. It was not Enasu or the priest of the temple, played by Praveen Krishna, who went on to make headlines. It was Narayanan Kutti who played the role of a mentally retarded shop employee who stole the thunder. The skit talked about increasing romances around temples and the God himself getting restless nights. It mentioned the lack of dedication from priests in temples these days. The skit reaches its climax with Enasu giving an advice to the priest, who went to meet him at the command of the God, that only marriages can bring an end to the current trend and that alone will teach a lesson to the dating couple.

Winter Quote

2005-12-07T08:13:00.000-08:00

After the fall season, it's winter time in NY. The city witnessed the first snow of the season few days back. Trees that were boasting of the unbelievable mix of fall colours had to shed the leaves long back and surrendered meekly to wear the white beard of snow. Fortunately for them all is not lost as the occasional sunshine brings old glory back through rainbow colours. The last time I have seen this much white in abundance is at home with the milk pot straight from the cattle shed. Well, I can also talk about the Alps view from the Swiss flight en route to Montreal via Zurich, but talking about home makes me feel better. Trivial and close issues that we are confronted with more often.

The worst summer in NY might feel like the best winter time in Dubai or Chennai. The highest during these initial days of winter is 45. Didn't I say that it is in fahrenheit? Everybody is wrapped in long woolen coats with multiple layers of protection underneath and miniature versions of the dome of some Italian cathedral to cover the head and ears. Still I can see a lot of them with minimum dress, but mostly in posters. My sympathy goes to them. The same sympthy I felt towards their counterparts in Dubai in the scorching heat where I thought the ad must have shot in the north pole. The world police, US with their mission in middle east, seems to have found out this disparity well before me. With laws that do not require minors to inform parents before abortion and mandatory blood tests before registering dating sites, in a system that accepts children as mature right after birth, think about the prospects of having one line removed from the application forms. The place where the name of father is asked.

Baby's Day Out

2005-12-02T09:00:00.000-08:00

Hi all. My name is Minnu and I am turning three on 8th of December 2005. Actually my name is Sruthi Lakshmi Suresh (Whoah! What a long name?) and my parents must have found by now that it won't work in the long run. I am the (un)fortunate and only daughter of the working couple, Suresh and Sindhu. Well, to be honest, my mother is not working. She is doing her PhD in one of the universities in New York, a dream destination of many around the world (I have to figure out the reason!). My father is a software engineer (even now?) but says he is working for a bank. So should I believe him? I have to get along with him more to learn more as I have been deprived of his presence in the past due to circumstances that were beyond my control (and his too). I have always been with my mom as my dad was working abroad and my mom did not want to get rid of her job at home (my dad supported it too). Honestly, I have been with my grand parents as my mom was away at work till evening most of the days of the week. I have only shades of memory about grand parents from my father's side and his relatives. Those counting me as the luckiest must be sick to say so. I wish they knew! One of my friend is telling me that his mother is planning to work or do higher studies and I wish good luck. I swear, it is by no means easy!

These days I wake up at 4AM just because of an alarm my mom has kept for an early reading as part of her PhD. As I embrace sleep again, another alarm sounds at 4:30AM which is set up in case the 4AM alarm is missed. By this time my mom is already in front of the computer and her books. So I turn to my dad who is struggling to go back to his sleep. I am disturbed in the middle of a good (or was it bad?) dream by a 6AM alarm. Time for my dad to get up and go to office. Why is he still sleeping? I am sure that he must have another alarm set up for 6:30AM. Are my parents crazy? Can't they just keep one alarm and get up at the first sound of it? Okay! What is my dad doing now? He is placing the blankets and pillows so that I will be protected from cold and a possible fall from the bed. So nice of him. But sorry dad, I am not sleeping.

Now there is a marathon I am going to witness with all fighting for the only toilet. Isn't it bad luck that my parents have a beautiful home back there with four toilets inside and one outside (specially made with old fashion)? What are they up to? What is that spear my mom holding? Oh! It's my tooth brush. She surely is bringing to me. Now you are going to witness my tricks and how I am going to avoid this one today. She surely has her own up her sleeves, but man believe me, they do not work any more. She admits her surrender and is now asking dad for help. Does he has time? If yes, I am doomed. Otherwise I would survive for this day. Isn't it cruel that 3 year olds have to go through all these twice a day? My parents talk about worms and bad smell but I don't feel anything. They are so tricky, you know! What about a biscuit straight from the bed? Yummy!

Good that I learned some English (I agree that I use some of my mother tongue for words I do not know, but you know that I am not Shakespeare) after landing in US. I am now at ease going to school where Grace (they say she is black and I don't see that!), Maya (it certainly doesn't sound like the name of a spanish kid), Alan (there you are!), Stefany (my parents pronounce it Stefaaaaaany where the correct one is SteFFany) and a good set of others will be waiting. With eating, playing and learning, it is good fun! Who is crying to go to school? Shame on you! Okay! okay! I do but that is because I feel bad when my mom leaves me in the morning. But can't you see that I am alright after 5 minutes? In the next few hours my home will be empty. I will wait for my dad to come at 6pm in the evening. 8:30AM to 6PM in a closed single room with a bunch of kids who are going to shape tomorrow's world. And I am not yet three years old. Is it the same everywhere?

I am sad that my mom is not at home. At 6:15PM, myself and my dad enter the living room and I can see that he is also not very happy. But as he used to say, we do not have a choice. Now I will continue my everyday routine to make a mess of the house with my toys scattered here and there, drawings on the walls (I no longer do it as my dad was so angry one day), recorded voice from toys that would make even Mother Teresa a terrorist, parts of biscuits and chips. Poor dad. He thinks that he can make a better home with that vacuum cleaner that does not work any more. He is picking up the dress I have removed. Gee!!!! I had only 4 pieces and now it is in 5 different places. He will go nuts any time now. I like to keep it where it belongs but you know. It is funny to see my dad in angry mood. Wait! My trump card is spoiling my diapers. And he is going to
have a tough time to get me to the bathroom. You know! I enjoy the slightest opportunity because I don't have many.

Now me and my dad have taken bath, I will play for some time to get dressed. I am going to refuse whatever dress he selects. And I will ask for the wierd combination which will make him think of new tricks to make me believe. I have to surrender as we need to get out in time to catch my mom from her college at 8:15PM. I am going to get one of my book (although I do not read it), that red skirt which he did not allow me to wear and probably the bottle that contains vitamin tablets. I am sure that my dad will agree to carry even the whole house to get me out as he keep watching the clock. What if I ask for that Golden colour watch on his wrist? Probably in the elevator in front of others! You know my dad! In this country, you can't scold me for anything and don't even think of touching. I will call 911 and you are in deep mess. So better behave yourself and obey. Is that the reason why there is so much crime within school kids these days? No! Its because they have an IQ less than 2 and their parents do not even know what and where Dubai is.

This time I will sit properly in the child seat. I do not mind the cops. The reason is that the normal seat is a bit cold. I know dad that you like that song. But don't play it. I want the next one. Fine and thanks. Is it mom calling on that mobile? (I will break that antenna one day! Think about it one more time when you buy mobile next time.) Don't you know that driving with a mobile in your hand can get you a fine? Poor dad! He is on the highway and he does not have a choice. We are now just 2 minutes away from the union of the family in the middle of New York City. We might go gome or I will insist on a dine out. I look forward to any opportunity where I can stamp my authority. My mom gets in and delivers a hug and kiss. Since I do not get it quite often, I cherish these moments. My dad might wish to but you know we are from India where we don't do it on streets. I might as I am in US now. As I lay back on my seat pondering over various bright ideas that I have to implement before we all go to sleep, a smile comes to my lips over my dad's comments to his friend over the phone the other day. He had a proposal to president Bush for withdrawal of troops. Why don't he send us, the chicken little, to Iraq? That is the best compliment I have got todate!

Sambhavaami Yuge Yuge!

2005-11-25T01:21:00.000-08:00

What is to happen will happen! And therefore I accept it as it comes. And why? It is written in Bhagavat Gita as the following verses say:

"Parithranaya Sadhoonam
Vinasaya cha Dushkrutham
Dharmasamsthapanarthaya
Sambhavaami Yuge Yuge"

I have had enough of it. Heard it from many mouths as a huge excuse for failures. Ignorance of the correct translation of what was quoted could be evident from the following (humble attempt!):

"Parithranaya Sadhoonam (To protect the righteous)
Vinasaya cha Dushkrutham (and destroy the sinful,)
Dharmasamsthapanarthaya (to reinstate morals,)
Sambhavaami Yuge Yuge" (shall I be born again and again!)

Little knowledge is dangerous than no knowledge at all!

Note: My knowledge in Sanskrit came as my first language from 5th standard to 10th and the 7am radio news read by Baladevanand Sagara.

Tomorrow Never Dies!

2005-11-25T00:02:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was the T-Day in US. Thanksgiving might be the most celebrated and awaited time in US after Christmas. Probably more than that. I had read about the great dinner that families host on this day and the good time they spend together. It is the beginning of the holiday season that would last till Christmas or new year. It reminds me of the festivals back home and the great times I had with my parents, brother and relatives. The wait for the holidays were worth as ultimately when they arrived, I had something to remember for the rest of the season. I always looked forward to the trips to join my cousins at my grandparents' house after a sumptous lunch at home. Sadly, I used to miss the big occasions due to illness or examinations and always wanted to grow up to enjoy it to the fullest.

It will be a shock for many as they switch from the student life to an employee life as it happens with less time in between. In my case, the excitement was there and by the time I got established at work, time had passed with many big occasions leaving a word called 'Miss' to remember. At home, when the holidays hit you, you are always there. But once you are outside the district or state or country, it would become difficult to be present on each and every occasion. Modern world brings a lot of work pressure and the normal man might miss out on the basic enjoyment, if he is not careful. Jobs demand a lot and there would not be many days that we could enjoy taking off.

After marriage, it is even more difficult as the number of relatives are doubled when you and your off days remain the same. I have always found many parents struggling to get in terms with sharing a newly wed couple for holidays. Both sets want their son or daughter on the lunch or dinner table at the expense of the other. This is a tricky situation which many resolve by taking turns or not attending to it at all. The completeness of the festival is lost for one side and that stress takes away much of the charm of the occasion. There are couples who spend lunch time with one family and run for the other to make it for the dinner. Eventually everybody loses as the stress and strain is too much to handle and gets reflected in words and actions.

There is a joy in sharing. And many enjoys it too. But when it comes to their children, I doubt the outcome. Can't life be much simpler than it appears? Or is it that we are giving too much attention to it or the details? Thinking about it once more, I understand that there were only me, my brother and parents on the lunch table. Today it is me, my wife and my daughter. I learn with much difficulty that my joy should be in sharing it with my daughter when I can't make it to others. I also understand that I should stop complaining and enjoy my life as it happens. There is no tomorrow that I can wait for because now I know that time does not wait for me.

You are not You - A US Puzzle!

2005-11-16T23:30:00.000-08:00

I could manage to get my social security number (SSN), one of the evidences of my existence in US (non working dependants can get a TIN, Tax Identification Number, instead of SSN) and the first step towards survival as well as surveillance, by the second week of my arrival in NY. It was one of the simplest processes with only a page having hardly 10 rows to fill up and requiring an identification document such as passport and a work permit such as visa approval notice. The queue in the office, which was in the middle of Manhattan, was not that long and it took me only an hour to get out of the building. As promised, the SSN came in 10 working days time to the postal address which need not be the residence address. Even photo copies were not required as the officers usually took it themselves after verifying the application and original documents. Needless to say, I was impressed as the sites of SSN clearly talked about the process and the offices followed it closely.

I had read a short novel by Anand, Marana Certificate (meaning Death Certificate), some years back. It was so disturbing that after reading it I could not get the hang of the thoughts that provoked me for days. Anybody landing in US fresh will most likely find situations that question his/her existence. A credit card cannot be used without a photo id at some places (this is not true in most cases these days although you are supposed to present one if asked), a SSN is a must for getting a house rented (it might run into a chicken egg problem where an address is required to apply for a SSN), a rented or own house or valid residence address combined with a SSN and passport is needed for opening a bank account, a SSN combined with passport and bank statements or ATM/Credit cards are needed to apply for a driving license which is a generally accepted photo id anywhere in US. One cannot get a loan or credit card without a credit history (you might get one with exorbitant interest rates and terms/conditions) but to build a credit history, you need to have a loan or credit card (the work around is a secured credit card with limits matching a deposit that is held as security, for beginners). Most important point is that your overseas history does not count here at all. Everybody start from square one and it applies to driving license too with most insurance companies quoting higher insurances for a first time driver in US irrespective of how good a driver he/she was overseas.

On one of these days of survival, I find myself in a fairly small queue with 50-70 people at the entrance to the department of motor vehicles (DMV) office at herald square (34th street and 6th avenue) to start my adventures of getting a NY driving license. The law allows me to drive a vehicle as I have my UAE driving license (same right hand side driving) and an international driving license issued from Dubai for an year. But as I become a NY resident, the time for this is 90 days of my residency, I am supposed to get a driving license of the state. Each state has its own rules, mostly same and differences being in the minimum age or blood level alcohol content or turning on red signal or highway speed limit or penalties etc. With a learners driving license and an overseas original, one can practice driving in NY, alone. Otherwise, an authorized driver is supposed to be present and the practice hours of the day or zones of the city are limited.

The entrance to the building is right on the street with a revolving door and the queue was so spread and uneven that I went directly to check inside when I was blocked at the entrance by an officer who guided me to the queue that was stretching towards the entrance of a subway station. I had a good view of the herald square from the street where I was standing as the area is an intersection of 34th street, avenue of americas (6th avenue) and broadway. It was around 8am and the smell of coffee that comes from almost all the shops, particularly from the street vendors, was far from resisting. A good cup of coffee and a croissant could come even under dollar 2. A non stop crowd was coming out of the subway like the bugs in the movie Mummy and the well built young man who was distributing the free news paper, am New York, was a sight to watch with his special tricks to the chicks who passes by.

After 30 minutes of wait, by this time the queue had grown and was reaching the 7th avenue, the queue started moving and we were directed to a corridor where the queue would wait for the exclusive elevator, to the DMV office somewhere on the 8th floor, that can carry only 8 at a time. The officer controlling the flow to the lift looked like a robot with his arm actions and no words. Up the levels of floors, the queue got rearrangments with last in to the elevator coming first in the queue to the reception where application forms were distributed and directions to the counters were given. To my back the queue was forming multiple S shapes squeezing the crowd into the small room between the reception desk, gate and the elevator.

I received a fairly long application, which I could have downloaded from the net and printed on a long sheet of paper, probably A3 size, but the waiting could not have been reduced much, and was directed towards a counter where documents were verified and digital photo was taken. A good 20-25 were waiting and I joined at the back of the latest queue relieved that the queue size will give enough time to fill up the application. As the queue got lengthier, a bald-headed man, resembling pretty much former election commissioner T.N.Seshan, came to reorganize the queue and asked everybody to take out and verify the documents needed. He even went on to distribute copies of driver manual for those who needed it.

DMV follows a 6 point document verification criteria where documents are given points and at least 6 points are required to apply for a learner's driving license. SSN is must which carry 2 points and passport with valid visa is good enough with 3 points. A credit card or ATM card or bank statement (only one of these types allowed) carry one point and I had two ATM cards and bank statements from two different banks. It was surprising, though not unexpected after 9/11, that after a long process that is required for somebody to get into US with document checking going on at many places including where the SSN was issued, many more were required by DMV and that just to get a learner's driving license.

The documents were verified and the photo was taken and I joined a group of gentlemen and ladies sitting on three rows of benches in no particular order. After some time, when there was enough strength on the benches, another lady behind the counter waved to the waiting crowd to come over to an area where pencils and written examination question papers were distributed. Some of the ones who had finished their document verification earlier missed out on this new call and would have to wait for the next set to write the exams. The examination was provided in many languages (another puzzle as the directions and signs on the road/streets are mostly in English) and consists of 20 questions (as opposed to 50 in NJ) out of which 16 must be answered correctly. Candidates must score the road sign questions completely which leaves space for 4 wrong answers in the general questions section. The web sites provide a very thorough and professional insight and even allow taking test examinations. The well designed driver guide on rules and signs is free and the written examination should not pose any problems for somebody who is willing to spend some time on the resources.
Those who got passed, which they came to know immediately, were directed towards another set of counters where fees would be collected, documented verified and an interim learner's license issued. Failed ones would have to go back home to come on another day to try their luck again and must go through the same process. This wait was much longer as the counters were attending to other issues as well and it took a good 90 minutes before I got the call from a lady officer. I had noticed in the short time I had spent there that she was the slowest and seemed always in doubt. The documents were further produced for verification for the second (or third) time and after looking at them, she slowly got out of her seat and went to a gentleman who was printing interim licenses. I was left with a guessing period and she came back to request me to go to the gentleman for further processing. I waited for the set who were before me in that counter and finally he attended to me telling that the documents were found to be not in order. He explained that my SSN and the passport (How? Indian passports do not have space for middle names instead they have given name and surname fields) were in order but my ATM card is not. The ATM card was showing a shortened name as would most cards do because of space restrictions. Interestingly all my credit cards and bank statements were with the middle name shortened and they were not acceptable according to him. I showed my UAE driving license where the name was in full but he rejected it as that was not part of the 6 point documents. It was beyond logic as I had valid documents such as passport with a US work visa(you won't get it that easily, right?), a SSN which was issued from a US federal office, ATM/Credit cards and bank statements that showed relations with at least two well known financial institutions that required banking regulations and rules followed to open accounts, an original driving license issued with full name on it from UAE (a country where US driving licenses can be converted legally with less than 30$ under one hour). I thought about Anand and his novel "Marana Certificate" and shook my head in disgust. Somewhere in the novel it had mentioned the requirement of a birth certificate to issue a death certificate to prove that the person in question was indeed somebody who lived.

It was almost 5 hours after I reached that coffee smelling street and I went to my office which is a good 10 minutes walk from the DMV office. I narrated the incidents to my HR manager, who incidentally is my colleague's son, and we decided to give it one more shot with a letter from him on the company letter pad (with seal and signature) stating that the bank statement or pay slip in question indeed belongs to the person and working in close proximity of the DMV office in an organization that has international presence in at least 8 countries. I was not optimistic but it was worth giving a try if it could save the time I spent and avoid going through the same process of long waits for written examination again. I could bypass some queues but not all and was able to reach the counter where my identity was questioned an hour before. The gentleman was not seen and the lady who took his position was not with any mentality to help. I had to thank her for telling that the man will return after his lunch. I could get a glimpse of his egg shaped face at around 2:30pm before he closed the door to the lunch room behind the counters. I waited patiently as I was good at it.

At around 2:45pm he came out of the lunch room. Finding that there is no reason for him to occupy his previous seat as his movements suggested, I quickly jumped out of my seat and sought his attention. I briefed the story once again to introduce myself before handing over the sealed letter from my organization. He almost threw it away telling that he wanted the name in original in the documents described in the 6 point set and nothing else would suffice. He told that I have two last names and no middle names. There is nothing one can do to wake up a person who is pretending to be in sleep. The decision was purely up to the officer as no records would be kept and no copies of originals taken to issue a learner's license. Only the verification of documents and written examination followed by fees in cash. Disappointed at the system, often it is up to the employees who handle the system, I left the DMV office to go there on another day with an expanded name on my bank statement.

The waits repeated, the coffee smelt good, the exam taken without preparation and I was finding myself in front of another officer, this time too one lady, trying my luck on the 6 point puzzle. This was after a good 50 days as I had lost my interest in taking a driver license. The officer adjusted herself by seeing the application and asked about my last name. "Oh! Not again!" I said to myself. Learning from my previous encounter with a similar situation, I told that I have two last names and no middle names. She went to another officer and I lost hope but waited. They were looking at the documents and talking in mild voice that I could not hear. She came back and started typing the name and took a print out of the interim driving license (ofcourse, money was paid in cash). Before delivering it to me, she said she had to take off some of my name due to space restrictions in the system and that I would have to write and post a letter (which many won't do) to the commissioner if I would like to get the issue known. The prestigious piece of identification that I would use for many years in US, the process for which rejected shortened names due to space restrictions on ATM/Credit cards, had truncated my name to a good extent and my given name was no longer available except an S.

Note 1: It still read better than what Etisalat (the govt. run UAE telecommunications company) in Dubai did. Their monthly bills came with the name THUDAthil BRAskaran. No wonder why there were needs for names like TRIVANDRUM and TRICHUR. I had seen many in US with only half of their father's name on the licenses that makes DMV true fun makers.

Note 2: I had removed references that could lead to identity theft which is a regular phenomenon in US with California and New York being the front runners. Watch your bank statements and credit reports closely and regularly in addition to keeping the ATM/Credit cards, SSN, Driving License and other IDs safe.

iSI VES ALGO, DI ALGO!

2005-11-16T09:39:00.000-08:00

It is difficult to ignore, at least for the first time and particularly if you are new to the city, these big black letter words on a yellow background that is often seen in subway cars or stations of New York city. Though it might look like some encrypted set of keywords or a puzzle of jumbled letters, actually it is Spanish and the meaning is : "If you see something, say something!". And these are reminders from Metropolitan Transport Authority (MTA) and NYPD (New York Police Department) to report suspicious activities and objects, repeated at various places both in English and Spanish. I always look around to see something and suspicious or not, I see a lot.

Very recently I was greeted with the Metro news paper, I get it for free at the entrance of the subway where I start my daily journey to my NYC office with a regular and monotonous "Good morning and have a nice day" greeting from the lady who distributes them, that talked about expected subway attacks by terrorists in that week. Security was tightened up with more NYPD officers in stations, either talking to each other or looking too much into the faces and luggages of commuters, and random baggage searches. I said to myself: "Vow! What a nice way to start a day and journey". Although I knew that NYC is vulnerable to attacks even before my recent move to New York, this was the first time I was actually getting a warning of an imminent attack that came from reliable sources as it was claimed. With a smile on my face, amused at what is in store for me or the city, I enter the train and look for worried faces around. To my surprise, I see most of the people listening to their latest iPods or portable CD players. Some were deeply into the books they have been reading and some were busy reading the tabloids. One or two looked at me suspiciously. Probably they were looking for signs of a terrorist which was published in news papers after NYPD announced it after the London attacks. I could pass for one with a backpack, a suit that may not fit well with the weather and a rhythmic movement of fingers to the sound of train's wheels.

The culture and heart of NY is difficult to understand as it looks like a fusion of cultures all over the world. The city is always busy and have no time to worry on anything. It wakes up to at least one news of rape or murder or stabbing or shooting although I learned that it is much lesser than it used to be. Youth is busy in dating or drugs and enjoy cracking glass bottles on the street. A big set is after their pets and gleefully forget to clean up even though it is the law. 9/11 or Katrina has not affected the bulk unless their immediate relatives or friends were involved. The city goes on its routine and if a set is dead, a much bigger set is waiting to take their place without worrying much about the past or future. Terrorist attacks kill! Then so are Hurricanes, War, Road Accidents, Shootings etc and life goes on with nothing achieved from the destruction.

Public transportation is good (cancellations, rerouting, delays etc are always there and hence the complaints) and a rough estimate of 4.5 million ride the subways on an average week day. It is in here they drink coffee, eat burgers, cut nails, make up for lost sleep, read favourite books and newspapers, listen to music, romance, prepare for conferences or meetings or exams, watch movies on cute handheld gadgets, gossip, sew the latest fashion hand bags or dress. Subway life is part of the NY city culture. With $2, one can travel for endless hours underground without exiting the station. Unknown nationals from all over the world sitting side by side and travelling to their destinations. Those who have own vehicles pay huge tolls and parking fees and travell miles to save 2 cents on a gallon. When they are not travelling, they look for sales coupons in news papers and wait for Christmas to get summer clothes. On mother's and father's day, they call up their moms and dads (if they know) respectively to say hi and that they love them.

As I near the kids care centre to take my daughter on the way back home, I hear a loud chorus.
"Black penguin, black penguin..what you see?
I see yellow cheese what you see? .....".

Each parent might be thinking about a future for these kids. The kids themselves, once grown up, will surely have their own. Then there is one from the terrorists too! Who has the right to make it? Tell me the name of the book that taught violence is the way to resolve issues and an example from history to prove it. If you know something, say something!

Ride of a lifetime

2005-10-31T22:40:00.000-08:00

What would you do when you get a health condition that force you to undergo three major operations in a row within the span of 4 months? What would be the inspiration for you to move forward when you are out of your best health and education for many many months? What psychological motivation will make you stay calm and focussed when you are in extreme physical pain not to mention the deep mental strain? What kind of hope would you need to overcome the financial burden and to look for years beyond? And what can you do when you can't do much about something? You just accept it and hope for the best?

Not long ago, I was in such a state where dreams were behind an operation table. Hopes were waiting outside and prayers travelling at a speed more than that of light. Help was limited but just enough to keep sailing. A healthy man who looked good to go miles was lying helpless and wishing for better times. You can reduce some of your mental strain by talking. But you cannot do much with physical pain particularly when even the pain killers are not helping. The world around him had shrunk as it happens mostly when there are difficult situations. You smile and a thousand people join you; you cry and you cry alone. I did.

My friends and relatives used to visit. Some of them fainted. I did not look the way as I used to be. I was lying on the table of a general ward in one of the hospitals in Thrissur. Without pillows. There was a heavy bandage around my abdomen that virtually separated my waist and legs from my chest. Under the bandage, my stomach had stitches that counted 8, 12 and 15 respectively for each of the operation I had undergone on May 3rd, June 14th and August 29th. There was a long tube that was running from my nose pumping a brown liquid in irregular intervals to a plastic bag that was clipped to the side of the table. There was a cut on the lower right side of my stomach without any stitches which again was running a tube to pump a similar brownish and black liquid off the inner side of my abdomen. This too was attached to a plastic bag to collect the liquid which will be disposed. There was continous drip, heavy anti biotics and glucose alternatively or combined, that had made both my hands swollen. One more plastic tube came out of my urinal organ to pass urine as it seemed that the connection to my lower side was cut off. It could have made a good caricature but a real life situation is much more than pure imagination and beyond sympathy.

I knew that life went normal beyond the hospital corridors. Still some of my friends took the pain to write class notes for me or visit once in a while to inquire about my condition and to wish me better days. Some teachers too joined with whom I never had personal conversations and some of them even offered financial help. My mother refused it at my request. We were happy that at least there were people who cared. An unexpected set of people from my village came forward to donate blood and some of my classmates found blood donors from the college. There was a large set of people who were expected but did not appear at all. Some of my friends suggested a money pool from college; we thanked their efforts but refused fearing that there might be worst times ahead. Some of my relatives took shifts to take care of me. To help me move or sit up. To clean me up with wet clothes.

No food and no drinks for days. There was nothing much to do than reading, ifI could, and sleep, If I could. I watched the ceiling fans. I watched new patients coming and old ones leaving. Some of them died in front of me. I waited for white dresses of the caring nurses who go by and begged for pain killers although I knew that it is of no use. I longed for somebody to take me out, to breathe the fresh air, to jump out of the multi-storied building and commit suicide. Then I knew that challenge always lies in facing it, not escaping from it. Its easy to do the latter and requires much courage and will to do the first. There were a lot of people who were spending time and energy for me, to see me in shape. I had to do justice to them.

During the period from May beginning to August end of 1993, I had visited four hospitals, admitted seven times, advised tube through nose and enema 5 times, taken numerous X-rays, allowed more than 200 bottles of glucose and medicine through my veins, saved more than a handful of bills just to remind myself later, punctured my body with needles, slept and ate very little, attended classes and written exams whenever I could, between three surgeries. Pain was a regular visitor followed by late night car rentals to reach a doctor or hospital. The regularity of the life was shattered, debts neck high and future bleak.

Perforated appendix, an extreme condition of appendicitis, is a medical emergency and a life threatening situation if not taken care of properly. My first visit to Thrissur Medical College Hospital on May 3rd, 1993 was with this emergency. It was the day after famous Thrissur Pooram. I had gone to enjoy it with my friends when I found that I was not well and decided to stay in my relative's house in the town. The next day, I visited a doctor, and told about the symptoms which were fever, diarrhoea, head ache, abdominal pain and vomiting. He had given some medicines but the real cause was never found. Only when I collapsed next day morning, I was taken to the hospital. I stayed there till evening before the diagnosis was made, by a two inch or more size needle long enough to pierce my stomach and reach the depths to pull out some puss, and the doctors decided to do surgery. If I had not died by the abdominal pain, this exercise almost made it happen. Why they gave pain killers and waited till the evening is still a question that surprises me. Regular doctors were on leave and two new doctors, one of them a house surgeon, did the surgery but I still believe that they did not do their job properly as such a case should have been carried out a little more carefully.

Thrissur medical college hospital was a hell. The nurses did not seem to care unless you pass some bucks under the table. The ward assistants eyes will blink with the shining of fresh bills and they might help you to get a stretcher. Doctors or house surgeons were as much indifferent as the over enthusiasm of the regularly visiting medical students who would become tomorrow's doctors. The fact that I was also a professional engineering college student did not matter.The general wards portrayed a picture not to forget. Rusted bed frames, torn spongy mattresses, broken glass windows, extremely spoiled toilets with water and human waste(I am sorry but it was damn bad and I can't resist speaking about the condition) running to the nearest bed outside the cabin, smell of rotten flesh from injured or diabetic patients fighting flies with plastic covers, smell of waste from outside the building. I experienced that there was no respect for people without money. Taxes were useless. Ministers and governments least bothered. Then why did I chose to go there? First of all, I did not know it. I was never there before. Second, the post man was supposed to deliver a cheque or money order or a bank statement to my home only years later.

On my second visit to Thrissur medical college hospital, again on severe pain and gas formation in the stomach that virtually made impossible for me to move, we decided to get a room in pay ward. The room was too small with no bulbs and wires were hanging down. Did not see many around. At least the bad smell was gone. We wanted to show the regular doctor that we were capable of money that he can tap if he wanted. We did not want to go to a different place where we had to start from the beginning. But all our hopes vanished when he suggested for a second surgery. We did not want to do it there. With some promises on money from neighbours and relatives, we moved to Thrissur West Fort hospital.

Life was much much better in West Fort hospital. I found a god in Dr.Francis, a retired medical college professor. Nurses were angels. Wards were clean and fresh, toilets were neat, environment was healthy. Money mattered. Money is not everything and there are some things that cannot be bought with money. Still, money was power. I received good attention and better treatment. I was promised medicines instead of surgery. But the joy did not last long. I had to return to the hospital for a second surgery on June 14th. The doctor should have got an idea of the situation only then. I went back and forth and was almost about to attend my 4th semester final semester exams, I had managed to attend all my internal exams in these struggles, when bad luck struck again by the end of August. I had gone to a gatroenterologist of Elite hospital hoping that he would be able to guide me through my after surgery period. On August 29th, I got admitted in Elite hospital but after learning that a surgery will be must, decided to stick with my surgeon, Dr.Francis, of West Fort hospital.

People were celebrating Onam, the most celebrated festival of Kerala, the next day. I was waiting for the only assistant to come and shave my chest and lower abdomen through knees, which was a regular thing before all surgery. I lied there, as if there is nothing worst that could happen, and allowed a lady nurse to shave almost everything except my private parts. A 20 year old man had reasons to be embarrassed but could not help it. For the third time in four months, I was taken to an operation room, leaving my parents and brother in tears and little hope, to undergo anesthesia followed by a 15 stitch operation. The knives would have been happy to find a known territory and this time the stitches were done with a thread that would not dissolve, the knot of which I can feel under my skin even today. It pains when I stretches, the skin is itchy, the thought of the days scary.

For a complete year, I survived on idly, food prepared from rice and urad dal, alone. I depended on two spoonfuls of a white liquid medicine everyday night to have easy stools in the morning before slowly changing and mixing with small bananas on a gradual transition to completely get rid of it. I was 100 percent vegetarian during these days. I protected my abdomen during heavy rush on buses, walked slowly, ate light and studied hard to catch up for an entire year. I ate long grain rice in the feast associated with the yearly festival being held in Pavaratty church, sometime in April or May of 1994.

It definitely was a tough time that taught me more than one lesson. On relations, friendship, love, money, support and much more. It was hell of a journey that demanded a lot. I wanted to believe that there was no God or a super power. What did I do to receive such a harsh test in my life? Later I was told by a nun, who visited me in the hospital, that God gives tests to those who can handle it. And only to make them strong. I complained in my mind that God was never with me. Later in IIT, one of my friend showed me a poster on footprints and I learned that when I thought that I was alone, when I thought that I saw only my footprints on the sand, there was God with me and that he was carrying me. When I look back now, after almost a dozen years, I find out that the tests had indeed made me a better person.

These days, when I take my shirt off, my two and half year old daughter will come to me and ask pointing to the scar on my right hand side which did not have any stitches: "Dad, is this your belly button?". I just laugh seeing her innocent face and tell her: "No my dear, it is not". One day I will tell her the lessons I have learned, but only if she is willing to listen.

Footprints

2005-10-30T20:17:00.000-08:00

There were only two people in this earth who had no hesitation to come to my room (308 Brahmaputra hostel, IIT Madras, Chennai) and spend as much time as they wish; to read, to listen to music, to talk about almost everything on this earth, to sleep or to simply sit on chair or lie down and transcend into oblivion. One was Rekesh bhai who is now a successful software engineer and living in California with his wife and beautiful (I haven't seen them, not even photos, but then which daughter of ours is not beautiful born yet to date?) daughters. The other one is Nandhan bhai who was last heard through his blog and must be thinking about his next travel plans now.

What makes these two so special and stand out was the influence of their character and hobbies that made a positive impact on my otherwise ordinary life. Rekesh John is from Alwaye (Aaluva for most Keralites) and Nandakumar Ramavarma hails from Chalakudy. Alwaye and Chalakudy are two well known towns in Kerala and these two will be among the best to talk about the historical significance of the same. It was through Rekesh, who had come back after resigning a prestigious job in US to join as a project associate of my research guide Prof.C.R.Muthukrishnan, I met Nandakumar. Rekesh was a previous disciple of my guide, I learned later. Nandakumar had dropped his interest in doing PhD in physics and was seeking his self (or destiny?) for years before he went on to do MTech in Computer science in Hyderabad. More than MTech, the prospect of learning and experiencing the history and culture of Hyderabad might have attracted this vivid traveller and thinker. There was one thing in common between these two, whom I met during the initial years of my research life in IIT. Both of them dared to meet the pleasure of finding their selves, one leaving a high profile job and other a promising PhD. There won't be many who is willing to take a step back and listen to their heart, in this busy and mad world towards economical wisdom. Before I could know, I had started respecting and admiring these two individuals and my inner self had already started learning from them.

It was Rekesh who introduced me to socket and thread programming and induced life in my research. It was through him that I started my journey into the world of Archies, Asterix, Tintin, Calvin and Hobbes and National Geographic, to name a few. It was his passion and religious beliefs that made me to believe in myself and execute the plans that God has for me. He might not have meant it, but I believe that he was a means by the powers to reach me. Rekesh used to speak less, think more, and mean much. On many occasions he taught me the art of forgiving and the power that brings to our self. Silence had its own language when Rekesh was around. But he talked about Kalki and his experiences and I used to be the listener that I am, occasionally asking questions that my little brain could not digest fast. We travelled on bicycles and he showed me what good chinese food tastes like. We used to have dinner from Waldorf restaurant just outside the IIT gate before moving on to an economical, but still tasty, one on the way to Adyar signal, credit of finding it going to Nandakumar. Time, the busy traveller it is, went past hours to days and then to months and before I knew, Rekesh was saying bye to IIT. By then I had learned to accept the pain of separation.

If Rekesh was the last one who would speak in a company of myself and Nandakumar, it was Nandakumar who used to do most of the talking. That was the contrast, but you appreciate a contrast only with comparable stuff. Nandakumar can talk on anything from Kundalini to Kumbhakonam. (Don't read too much here, its only for the pun). His forte, I believe, is travelling. Now don't misunderstand me. Travelling into anything and probably its best narration too. It could be his journey to Nepal with his mother or a short visit to one of the temple towns of South India. It might be an inspired reading of The Name of the Rose (1981) written by the Italian novelist Umberto Eco. It could be on the absence of a proper word in Malayalam for the English word You. Or even a trip to the local restuarant that probed his observation power. He brought me a present from his Pondichery trip and it was a poster version of the Footprints, on which he has written in his blog. Later, the words and meaning of Footprints turned out to be one of the most important asset in my journey towards finding my own self and the meaning of life. It was a relief for some one like me who had gone through stuggles after struggle and Nandakumar knew it perfectly to present it to me. What he did not know, then and probably now, was the kind of impact it had on me. I followed him to the Theosophical society in Adyar, Institute of Mathematical Sciences in Tharamani, his temperory residence in Thiruvanmiyur, the Steven Spielberg movie Amistad, his advice on not spitting to the sink a final time after I have finished with my wash, his adventures and failures in life and, very rarely, a bottle of beer. He is a wizard with special skills and understanding in mathematics, history and use of language. He himself selected the words to describe the relation between us, as I was short of vocabulary, to fill in the acknowledgement section, which gave importance to private relations than official ones, of my MS thesis. It portrayed him as a fellow traveller and kindred spirit. Truly he is.

During that golden period, anybody visiting 308 Brahmaputra used to read a line fixed on the door that I borrowed from one photo of an old National Geographic magazine: "There is no place just like this place anywhere near this place; so this must be the place". I wish whether I could go back in time!!!

Skits and Hits

2005-10-28T21:21:00.000-07:00

The first time I took pen to write a drama was when I was doing my 10th. The inspiration was because I was not selected in the main drama troop of the class for the youth festival. Obviously I could not have got selected for my acting skills and also because the only term as an actor for me was when I was in 3rd. But there were a set of friends who were also not satisfied at the selection process and when I talked about my idea, they encouraged me to go on. After all I was the undisputed class topper and they had huge belief in my abilities. Based on the winning name of previous year's best drama "Kazhuka Puranam", I wrote my first drama narrating the story of a saint getting tempted by the evils and named it "Naraka Puranam". The rehearsals went for a day or two and I was quick to realize that the story and the acting are not going to work. Much to the dismay of my classmates, I unilaterally pulled out and without the leader and director the drama did not went on to make it. Surprisingly, my brother who was also studying in 10th but in a different school took the script to his friends and presented it on stage. Though the drama did not receive any awards, I was happy that the time spent on it was not lost.

It took another six years for me to try something on stage again. It was the final semester of my bachelors at Govt. Engg. College, Thrissur. My class mate, friend and wellwisher Anto Jacob was planning to appear for fancy dress competition and he came up with this idea of portraying Aiswarya Rai, the Miss Universe of 1995. His dress, though not much, was the most simple but he looked great and my intuition told me that he is going to win the first prize (he got it indeed). On our way back from men's hostel to the stage, a five minute walking distance, one of my friend Vinod was asking me why I was not participating in any events. That question inspired me and I told him that I would like to present a skit, the subject was the issues faced by daughter-in-laws in their husband's homes mainly by husband's mother (in Malayalam, there is a word for it, Ammayiyammapporu. It makes me wonder whether this is unique to Indian culture or not). He promised me to find an actor by name Varghese who was doing his bachelors in Chemical Engineering. Along with him, myself and Anto would comprise the cast. With only three actors and a borrowed idea from a mimics parade (I take credit for applying it for the subject of competition), the skit was a huge success with Anto still in Aiswarya's dress in the daughter-in-law's role. I played the role of mother-in-law when Varghese played my son. I could see the judges laughing and almost assured the prize. Needless to say, it was awarded first prize. There were some reasons for it to win the prize. When everybody portrayed the mother-in-law as the cruel one for the suffering of the daughter-in-law, we turned the tables by presenting an indifferent and demanding daughter who forces the mother to break loose. And the theme was presented using the popular advertisement of a tea brand. Believe me, I would not have presented it if I knew that it won't be making headlines.

Booming with confidence, I moved forward to participate in another event named Invocation. This was a solo event where just five minutes before the event, the participants will be asked to draw one piece of paper on which will be name of a celebrity. It could be from movies, politics or sports. The participant has to talk like the celebrity for 3 minutes and answer question from the judges for 2 minutes. I wanted to get a movie star's name to try my mimicking abilities but got the name "Oommen Chandy" who is the chief minister of Kerala now. Based on my understanding of politics that prevailed in Kerala during that time, I managed to perform and answer some questions that was thrown at me. Although there were more than 10 participants, I secured a third place which was satisfying for some one who was about to finish his college days. Our participation and winning the prize was the talk of the day as nobody expected it. One of my friend who was from Electrical department came to me and told that he never thought that I would have the courage to participate in Invocation. I thought the same way too.

Since we won the first prize of the skit competition held under college level, we were given the opportunity to present skit during the inter collegiate competition of engineering colleges, Splash 95. Many colleges were participating and it was going to be held in our college. The subject was PTA (Parent Teachers Association). I could not get Varghese again but managed to get my other friend from Electrical department and along with Anto went for a shot at the competition. The idea again was mine laced with a popular TV advertisement (you see, it was a winning formula) and we went on to win the second prize.

Years have gone but I would still love to be back on stage. The creativity and satisfaction that comes with such programmes is something to be experienced. Better times were ahead and more on that later.

The Mountain Goat

2005-10-27T23:13:00.000-07:00

Slow and steady wins the race. That's the philosophy the goat tells himself as it sets on course for the top of the hill. The goat admires the height of the hill, respects the ones who have been on top before or those on their journey up or down the hill. There is a target and as far as he can reach it without blocking others, the goat is happy and does not mind the discouragement or criticism. Why am I talking about a mountain goat? Simply because it is the sign that corresponds to a Capricorn and I am a Capricorn.

The world of Sun or Zodiac signs was one area that always fascinated me and I used to spend time to read books on them, mainly by Linda Goodman or on web, for the sheer pleasure of learning the behaviour of people and the possible influence on them by the time and location of their birth. One article had given a scientific twist claiming that since earth is mostly filled with water and there is scientific evidence on tides getting influenced by time of the day or moon or stars, it might be attributed to the character of human beings too because human body is also filled with lots of water. Frankly,I do not know much about it, but it is fun for me and that's why I read it.

People of all races of all times had been drawn to palmists, tarrot readers or astrologers mainly because most of the lot were anxious to know the future. The wise feasted on this anxiety (the same way insurance companies work now) and saw into the past, present,and future through crystals or betel leaves. General comments and reasonable assumptions fed the needy and they left for home satisfied while those with eyes into the future survived.

Rather than looking to what would happen to me tomorrow, I wanted to explain some of my behaviours, which I found common in many who were born as Capricorns, in the past and present and reason about why I did not behave in a different way, which I have noticed others who were born in other signs doing consistently. I had spotted a man cleaning the sides and top of the washbasin more than once. He was well dressed and looked taking too much time for cleanliness, be it on clothes or wash basin. I asked him whether he was born in September and he almost burst with surprise "How did you know?". He was a Virgoan. Another time, while on lunch table, I told one of my colleague who happened to be an American that Taureans, Capricorns and Virgos make the best match in relationships and she shot back asking me then why her marriage failed? She was a Capricorn and her ex-husband was a Taurean. Later she explained that it was because of the difference in cultures that led to the divorce and wished him success.

I learned that Librans are always behind a career while those born in Cancer sign will make the closest family ties. I also learned that Sagitarians are a bit luckier than the other signs when Geminis always go back and forth showing twin characters. Taureans are tall people, more in character if not in physique. It is highly likely that your superior was born under the sign Aries. Think that your wife shows true characteristics of a woman? She must be a Pisces. What is the sign your friend was born who looks a bit possessive on you? Nothing but Aquarius! And where is that commanding voice coming from? He looks like a cat or Lion? And who is that multi-talented, but a bit jealous, friend of yours? She is a Scorpion!

The best matches are always 6 signs ahead or behind. If there are some predominant characteristics for a person born under a particular sign, it makes sense to match them in relations for the simple reason that some of the behaviours are easy to go with another set. No wonder why matrimonial columns are filled with information on signs as well. Next time when you find somebody who behaves in that peculiar way, learn with the help of signs under which they were born. Although I did not follow it for my marriage, I find it too fun to be true.

One day before Christ!

2005-10-27T23:10:00.000-07:00

It was on one of those cool mornings of December, exactly on the 24th of December 1974, I came out of one of the most secure place in the world for many children. Official records might indicate otherwise, but how many of the babies born before 80s got their official birth dates right that match their actual one? I could have stayed a little more but doctors had different ideas and I was handled a caesarean birth. I plan to sue them sometime later for forcing me and effectively ending plans for further children for my parents. They deprived me of chances of having younger siblings, especially sisters, and playing and growing with them. World was not fair then too as I was about to find out soon.

I realized that India was a secular country by knowing that I had Christian neighbours on the left where as I had a Muslim family to our right. I did not feel any difference then and now apart from the fact that my Christian neighbours used to visit church on every Sunday and held prayers before dinner every evening. I knew that there were at least five times a day my other side went to prayers and understood that there must be something good in doing prayers. Although we used to visit temples, I always took pride in my mom offering the first set of eggs, from the small chicken farm (may be 10 or less) she used to grow, to the church rather than to the temple (Hindu gods WERE complete vegetarians). And we used to occasionally spent time to offer prayers and coins to the tomb of a Muslim Sheikh, who was known for his healing skills and powers, on the way to my mother's ancestral home. She taught me true secularism by showing respect to other religions andI learned everybody's right and need to exist in this beautiful world. Later in my life, friends from all caste and religion played a great part making me believe that I must be lucky to have born in India.

For every failure or inability to face a challenge, there would be an excuse. And conversions are excuses. As far as it brings relief to the individual, fair enough. Preaching that I am right and others are wrong will only increase tension and create confusion. There is no absolute right. It is relative. Relative to time and space. A right here might be wrong somewhere else some other time. India was fortunate enough to reap the benefits of the various cultures and religions it embraced. If children are the largest asset of a country, if their education is the major investment, then the work of convent schools run by Christian missionaries should get a pat on the back. I did my education with nuns for more than 7 years and always thank them for the strongest foundation they built for me to bloom. True that I learned bible stories quite often, but it always made me a better person in life. To suffer, forgive and sacrifice. To be patient, to understand and to give. And of course to die for those you love.

I always believed in coincidences. If I was born one day before a Christmas day, I got married a day before one Good Friday. It was on 20th of April 2000, Maundy Thursday. I was crucified a day before only to find myself resurrect and find out true meaning of life. Jesus Christ, for me, is a hero than a God whom I hold close to my heart. And truly he was a human being than a God. He died for the masses to show them the power of forgiveness and pain and pleasure of sacrifice. Writing about the power of the Almighty bring tears to my eyes and that's the way I return the favours. I believe in the plan God has for me and want to live that plan to the best of my abilities. I am sure that He will forgive me for the sins I have committed and lead me to a better person through the tests each and every day. Oh God, I believe in you and I want you to show me the way. And I thank you for the days you give me in this world for I know that it can end any time. Let me make it good for me as well as others.

Doesn't it feel good to be in the security of the most powerful when you are living in a city of man made security which is not flawless? I remember the caption of the 1994 movie, The Shawshank Redemption: "Fear can hold you prisoner; Hope can set you Free".

God's Own Country

2005-10-27T21:17:00.000-07:00

The think tank of Communist Party of India (Marxist), the Polit Bureau, has found out that information technology is also an area where strikes can be called for. This was the only area where it was missing and CPI(M) and its trade union CITU would be more than happy to see it implemented in the IT sector.

There was a time when communist thoughts were riding the minds of the youths as well as labour class of Kerala. True that it had brought many historical changes in the landscape. But it has to be admitted that the party and its brains had remained largely in the past while forgetting to accept the present and to move forward to the future. Its leaders now lack the vision and is mostly blinded by the power if not the willingness to learn. State of other political parties are not better, if not worst.

Kerala will most likely be the state with most number of official holidays. In addition to that, strikes and hartals bring the state to a near zero in terms of development. How many productive days are available to a worker or student, thanks to the collective effort of all the political parties. I would definitely say that it could be close to half of the number of days in the year. One day or more out of the 5 working days are lost. Will anybody with a clear mind invest in Kerala? And how then canwe bring jobs for the masses?

Forget the saturdays and sundays. Forget the holidays of festivals for each and every religion that exists in the state. Each and every political party that ranges from National and Kerala Congresses with all the letters of english language contributing to the fathers and sons and national figures, the hindu christian muslim leagues and outfits, the nairs, the ezhuvas, the student unions, the trade unions. Can't it be easily seen that Kerala's industry and education get very little out of all these parties?

The hard core communists, while during their study period, but when moved to out of state or country, I have noticed that, do not approve of the current state of God's own country. The strikes and hartals might be needed but a sane person cannot digest why it has to be for the odd reasons or why the tax payer's money need to be destroyed in the form of KSRTC buses or state vehicles or department offices. Ultimately the chief minister or home minister won't pay from their pocket. So is the opposition leader or the person who called for the strike. It comes from the public. It comes from the poorest of poor who still survive on less than a dollar per day in Kerala. How will the state grow if the economy is not supported well? Probably the parties want the masses to remain poor and ignorant!

NRK (Non resident Keralite)s often find amused and frustrated at how pathetic is the functioning of the affairs in the state. There is no program that speeds up processing which had led to large corruption at most of the government offices. It is widely believed that opposition parties need to show mutual exclusion with the ideas or developmental activities of the state. Although the state is run by much of the foreign money sent by NRKs, life is not simple for an average person who return to the state for holidays or for good.

Keralites have the greatest ego that they are the best and they know everything. True that they are smart enough to beat anybody in the business, but isn't it possible that the story of the frog in a well that has not seen the world is missed or purposefully forgotten? People in Kerala need to know that there is a better world out there and that there could be better ways to progress or development than living with red, safron or tri-color flags. After almost 6 decades of freedom, we are still deprived of many things that do not cost much.

Every child born in Kerala deserves more. They have waited so many years and its a crime that the surroundings haven't changed much. They deserve better or there will be a time that they will question us. And we will have to run for covers then if we do not ask the question ourselves and act, now! Oh! I forgot! Most of our children are now born and brought up overseas. How thoughtful we are! Long live Keralites. Long live Kerala. God must be wondering when he signed on the papers of adoption of this lovely state. Highly likely that it is on a hartal day.

What's in a name?

2005-10-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet. "
-William Shakespeare

Suresh is a common name in India. I always wondered why did my parents chose this name when there were at least two other immediate relatives with the same name. Probably I found it incomplete that you are seeing it now as Suresh Thundathil Bhaskaran. That makes sense. Isn't it?

There was a time in Kerala where children were named after the first few letters of their parents. I had read an article once on what it could be if this theory was followed for the children of Lohithakshan and Rinu or Pushpangadhan and Kalyani. Some of the combinations would surely make you laugh!

Suresh, I believe, means Easan (Lord) of Surans (Devas). There is a conflict in who actually is the Lord (well, at least for me). Is it Indran (King of Devas) or Siva or Vishnu? I was told that it is Siva, the destructor in the trinity of Gods (Vow! Its there in Hinduism too). Interestingly, my brother's name is Girish (Lord of Hills) which again is Siva. So what was the point in choosing two Sivas in the same house?

I have been nick named Unni (means small) which again is popular in Kerala's homes. Some of my friends started calling me Dinkan (after the super power cartoon character in one of the monthly publishings for the kids). The reason could be that I was there for them whenever they needed me, which was the most celebrated virtue of the character. I remember an incident when I traced the character to hold my name and address in a box (drawn) for my composition notebook. It was widely accepted that the notebooks had to be clean and neat without any unwanted writings but surprisingly my class teacher did allow it and that was a welcome gesture from her part which I remember even now (obviously).

Some of my friends call me TB (TeeBee) after my initials. Some of them expand it to Tuberculosis or Text Book. It used to be a common practice in school days to make it the most intriguing one. Frankly I loved the nick names as it added a personal touch. It was Sunny in Madras during my post graduation period where a limited but big set called me by name Manthru (short for Manthravadi, a sorcerer or wizard). When Sunny was discovered by adding the vast number of Sun machines to my nick name Unni, Manthru was given by one of my seniors by seeing me bare chested with a Rudraksha chain and a red lungi.

In Dubai, the name was Myna in my friends circle. Myna is a small bird usually found in Kerala. The reason why this name came is because there used to be a chapter in one of the elementary schoolbooks which goes as:

"Kla kli klooo...Evide ninnana sabdham? Suresh thirinju nokki".
(Kla kli kloo..where did that sound come from? Suresh looked back!)

These were the first few lines of the chapter that described the bird and Suresh was a character in it. It feels good to have your name on books you follow or learn. That exactly was the reason why my friends remembered it.

Whatever name was given, I took pride in the closeness I felt by hearing it. Be it friends or colleagues or relatives, it was good to hear them calling specific, not very common, names.

My daughter was named Sruthi Lakshmi (inspired by the ashta, means eight, lakshmi temple inMadras that has 8 different versions of Lakshmi, the goddess of prosperity). And it was a consensus to pacify my paternal and maternal sides as both of my grandmother's name is Lakshmi. But now she does not respond to that name as she is given another name Minnu (that glitters).

Names can reflect on your character. It would be difficult to show a character that is against the meaning of your name. Although it happens quite often on the opposite way, if given right explanations to a child, a name can make great changes in their life. Many take pride in their names. In giving unique names to their children and even homes. It influence your selections. Be it a vehicle brand or spouse.

There is something to a name! Shakespeare must be wrong!

Hindu Government

2005-10-27T06:17:00.000-07:00

No! I am not going to talk about a particular party coming to power in India or Nepal or Bhutan. Also I am not going to talk about the politics in countries like Suriname, Trinidad & Tobago or Guyana where Hinduism is practised . Rather I would like to talk about the distribution of power among Gods of Hindus with my own interpretations.

I must make myself clear that I am a God fearing person but that does not mean that I will not take advantage of the strong roots of Hinduism because I know that it is not going to be uprooted by my sayings. AlsoI believe that Hinduism as such is not a religion but a culture. It has the highest level of freedom that persons like me can try to interpret it in own ways. I haven't read in any vedic writings that the protection of this great culture, like many other religion, has been given to a person or a set of people. It can protect itself. If not, it is not good to be followed.

The Gods at the helm of the government are Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the sustainer and Siva, the destroyer. This trinity of Gods share powers that are sort of mutually exclusive and there are many instances where they have shown their inability to venture into other's arena. The powers also show the cycle that every human being need to go through. It is easily understood that there is an end to everything.

Energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Brahma knew it even before the mortal scientists and so came the concept of soul. The body perishes but not the soul. There are countless instances of certain Shakti (avataror reincarnation) that got created for a purpose (mostly to kill or steal). All of it was not new, but a new form of an existing power meant to do certain business. Otherwise there could have been thousands of Gods more than the numerous ones right now we have. But to the disgust of super powers, the perished evils came back in another form. Rules were good for gods as well as evil spirits.

I find it interesting to note that wherever there is good governance, there will be a good set who will not allow it to happen for their own sake.Ther are selfish motives that govern topplings of governments or support of governments. The most important fact is that the sets remain the same, whether the government or the opposition. It only rotates. It never goesout. The beneficiaries are within the set and democracy suffers.

Coming back to Hindu government, there is chief minister (Indra), irrigation minister (Varun), electricity minister (Agni), Health minister (Aswin brothers), Defense minister (Ganesh), Environment minister (Vayu), Minister for light (Surya), Minister of death and related affairs (Yama) and it goes on. As more and more quakes hit the earth, more and more hurricanes crush regions, gas and oil reserves touch bottom lines, global warming makes news, I find it interesting to see a culture that has found divineness in each and every thing on the earth. If we could act a bit more sane towards nature, it would definitely matter a lot. For the generations to come.

This culture has given more importance to women than any other religionsI have learned so far. This government is an Equal opportunity employer. There were goddesses of prosperity, music, education, finance. Saraswathy, Lakshmi, Kali, Durga, Parvathy, Ganga. All found respected positions. The half man - half woman (Ardhanareeswara) concept truly resembles the kind of importance that women enjoy in Hindu culture.

The birds, animals, water, fire and what else. Name anything that needs to be sustained or needed and that had been given a place in the literature.True that bars, dances, alcohol and even call girls gets pictured that makes this a culture that has foreseen the global world.

Religion is what you follow and practise. There has to be a place for everything in this world. We must coexist and we must respect each other. We must learn to respect the resources too. History teaches that violence cannot bring peace. Only peace can bring peace. It is through self respect and, more importantly, respect of others, true peace can be achieved.

Energy can neither be created nor be destroyed. Gods must be the same. Only forms are different. They preached the same but in different languages with same meanings. Interpreters made it difficult for the unwise. Don't give up your abilities to think and learn. There are whites and blacks. But it is not by your color but by your actions. It is not by your race but by your sayings. It is not by what you preaches but what you follow.

Who are you? A White or Black?

Marriages happen in heaven!

2005-10-27T03:54:00.000-07:00

What is the most important decision that you have taken in your life? It can range from buying a vehicle or building a house or choosing a career to selecting a spouse. Why did I stop there? There you are! If you are still married, it is most likely that now your decisions are influenced. It is not your decisions any more. Its more of a collective decision. The percentage might vary but still it is not your decision exclusively. And what if you have a baby? Thats it! Rewind and think about the most important decision you have taken. Go back in time and learn why it has become so important in your life today.

Love marriages, I have been told and to a certain extent experienced as well, are like climbing the hill. It presents a lot of adventurous opportunities, excitement of reaching new territories, possibilities for exploration and much more. What if the top is reached? Much of the excitement is lost as you can see now clearly how the world looks like. The fog is not there that blinds your eyes. The scenery has lost its charm and the thought of descending the hill makes you sour. The winds are not hot any more as it has become chilly and flows freely. The stars on the sky above you are no longer seen, which you thought might be there throughout, as dark clouds begin to cast their shadow on the horizon. You look for ways to reach the even turf where you will be more comfortable, which you think, to be with your friends and relatives, and search for maps in your luggage. You end up finding a dictionary where divorce comes before marriage. Sounds too discouraging? Not yet!

It is certainly very much interesting to choose the path less travelled. Every path has its own plus and minus. Pros and cons. It unravels the beauty of life with the mix of tricks up its sleeves. How good you are to accept the variety or the diversity that it unveils will make your life a success or failure. Marriage is an institution run by both husband and wife(I do have my opinion on same sex marriages, but will tell about it later). Its no longer an individual and his or her wishes. Its a consensus of the desires where understanding, adjustment, and sacrifice play a big role. There won't be much disagreement on that fact. Now those qualities will need more potential and higher levels of contribution when the spouses are from different background. Economics, Geography,Caste, Religion, Race, Color, Physique, Beauty, Customs and Rituals. More the differences, much more is required to be in sync with the qualities I mentioned. Since love marriages seldom find it, there is a very high chance that it is likely to fail.

What makes love marriages prone to failures more often other than the factors mentioned above? Added responsibility. The couple often find themselves alone to be blamed for the current state they are in. Since it is not easy to blame the self, the other person has to take it and that adds tension. Suddenly the world outside will look brighter. Its natural. Another reason is the social aspect of a marriage. Although marriage is between two individuals, relatives and friends play a big role in the successful run of the institution. Couples from different background find it difficult as it is not only both of them but the entire core around them has to understand, adjust and sacrifice. This would not make life easier. Even if everything works out well, under the roof, with both of them together but alone with their own ego and unwillingness to accept and desire to argue and win ultimately leads to failure of both.

Does that conclude that arranged marriages are better than love marriages? Never! Love marriages fail because the couple who decided to get married have the guts to break it. That is the same guts that made them to get married initially. Arranged marriages have a lot more decision makers involved and it is likely that their constant involvement will induce more strength to overcome the difficulties they face in life. Divorces might be happening more with love marriages because they are willing to say good bye for the better of both. It is possible that more and more arranged marriages still continue for the sake of it although it is much more in a distress state. The couple usually get very little time to understand each other in arranged marriages and if they find love after marriage, that is good for them. Although the background will be much more suitable, still the person has to be willing to accept the other the way he or she is. The true character of a person, as spouse, will be much more different than what it is otherwise, will come up only after the marriage has happened. Fights, differences of opinion, learning of choices and abilities might already have happened in love marriages whereas it will come as a shock for the newly weds in the arranged version. So basically both sets find themselves up the hill one time or the other, a pair of individuals who knew each other before or not.

What is the choice once you find yourself up the hill? You can remain there as long as you wish. You never feared the rain or thunderstorms before, why do you fear them now? Nothing has changed much. You can enjoy your descend the same way you have climbed the hill. Choose a different side and separate path. Alternatively you can climb further up as most find it quite often. You think you have not cared for your relatives or friends. Or that they did or did not help you reach there up. Go back to them. If they were your true friends, if they were your true relatives, you will find them happier to find you in shape. You will be glad to be with them the same way they feel. Do you feel a difference now than it was before? Naturally. You have a hand closer to you. Were your days the same always so far? No! It is bound to change and thats where the beauty of life lies. You will find the sky brighter and the stars closer if you are not alone. Life is a journey that you will enjoy more if you have a companion. Get one, if you have not already, and keep them closer. Forever!!!