Wednesday, May 21, 2014
If my stupidity helps the team/product...then be it...
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Emotions have no place in professional coding...
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Enough is Enough...
- People who know me will definitely understand the company I work in. Please again use your common sense to talk about this or comment about it.
- This is not about the work we do. I am extremely happy for the opportunities I am getting and my manager has over the years have acknowledge it.
- This is an 'Emotion' response. If someone is here to bind logic, please use your own common sense to judge for all these problems because if you don't have that, ideally you are the same group, against whom I am sharing this frustration.
- I can't at any cost take name of my company, because it can than be taken up as propaganda. I have been in this company for seven years and will always propose my company to other friends, so I have no hidden agenda here.
- The reason why this has to be documented, because until it is in my system, I will remain angry about the whole 'thing'. And this 'anger' or at times sense of desperation will cloud my judgement to appreciate the good things which come along.
- My fellow colleagues have reached that plastic state where they are living with these problems. They don't want to fix the broken system; The don't want to give feedback; They can complain as much in-person, but can't grow enough balls to send an e-mail to management about the pathetic state of affairs; and feedback always have fallen on deaf years. Still I will scream till my last breath in this company.
- Damage to my car while following one of company's 'Dinosaurs' process
- Discussion for keeping the air conditioning on after 6 pm in office
- Discussion for improving the transport system of the company on team outings.
- Mosquitoes in the building because we like a jungle like aesthetics inside the building
- Company provides all routes which different buses will take.
- Company asks all employees to register for bus service to understand the logistics and specify the pickup point explicitly.
- Company asks employees to be on stop 5 mins before pickup time.
- Morning pick-up time is 6:57 am from my stop. I am here by mistake at 6:30 am.
- The crowd of 30 odd people builds up around 6:45-6:50 am
- First bus (route 43) is a bus which can't hold capacity of 30; was already full; arrives more than 5 mins late. Around 7:20 am
- Calling the helpline provided, one single formulated answer 'We have enough bus, it will reach you'.
- Another 52 seater comes around 7:30 am. Considering I should have been on stop around 6:52 am, around 38 mins late.
- The bus gets full and we don't pick up anyone on the way (God only knows what happened to people after our stop!!!)
- According to the known information (here I might be wrong), we were supposed to leave for home at 9:30pm. We didn't till 10pm.
- We were coming from Tumkur Road to Marthahalli to Kundhanhalli. First person who got down of our bus was at Total Mall on outer ring road.
- I was mostly sleepy in the bus, but when I woke up, I saw my college road and we were near IISC. I was like "Why the bus driver going this way?"
- Then I saw 'Sanky Tank', then I saw Cauvery Theater junction and then the driver turns towards Palace Ground and finally I got restless and asking some colleague to talk to driver in local language.
- Finally when the driver crossed Hebbel and we were about to get on the Elevated Highway, someone knocked some sense into him and we took a long U-turn heading back on to outer ring road.
- If anyone can understand the Bangalore roads, they will know we wasted lot of time. In the morning and now in the night, just because my company can't handle travel basically.
- Finally, I dosed off only to think we are on the right way. But then another bus/truck/lorey hit our bus and knocked off the side mirror, I woke up worried, now an employee is injured too. Thank to which ever God who was watching over us, no one got injured. I stepped out of my bus around 11:40 pm.
- No spoons; if spoons are available no plates
- No food at most of the counters. If something is available, something else isn't.
- Lunch I never saw 'chapati' -- Every one I guess at rice. Boring sessions (personal opinion), then rice which cause more sleep.
- Dinner lesser chaos.
- Food quality was even pathetic than what we get in office and that is saying something.
- I have stopped staying beyond 6. There are big mosquitoes and irrespective of what actions company takes, somehow the remain bugs are always attracted towards my blood. I have seen friends having malaria and I don't want to go through it.
- It gets unbelievable hot after 6 in office. So much so that it is suffocating. I have got a personal fan, but due to shortage of fans in company, it is horrible sweaty environment.
- The coffee vending machine, the coke machine everything is shutdown at 5:30 pm. So get your own caffeine if planning to work post that along with of course the office mosquitoes.
- Cab drivers in office... for me this point is closed more or less. Until someone will die due to the rash behavior of facility in our company 'No' one will wake up. I know this will happen one day, while I hope it never happens, it will and my heart knows this will.
- Why it is close - Previously said, I felt much better driving on my own now.
- What is bad about it - talking on mobile while driving, driving fast (had to hold on to seat belt when being dropped to airport).
- Why not complain about it - Does it help? Here even I am in plastic state. They come, they go, cab drivers still remain the same. Employee should be given the power to say to the driver, 'if you do this thing wrong one more time, I will report now'. No money paid if any complain comes.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Moments In Life...
Sunday, June 23, 2013
The beginning...
Sex
Not really sure if the next section should ever see the light of the day, but if this blog ever helps a young couple, where the guy is unsure of the questions which comes with starting the family, I am sure this part is worth putting in. In movies, men say, "The more sex one get, the better it is. The greed never ends". Most part of it is true; the male brain never stops thinking about the physical contact. But if I would to put sex in the words of sports, Sex all along is net-practice. The real game is when you decide to make a life out of it. Once the female counterpart is ready and there is a challenge, mind plays great tricks. They are the triggers every person should be aware of. For the first time in my life, I felt it is really-really difficult. For some it might be as easy as it goes, but not for me. It was a rare learning about one self. Every month we waited for the good result and with every passing month the pressure increases, like it is a success one will never achieve. But we were lucky, truly were, that how I imagined is exactly how it happened.
The Good News
We started talking about it right after our second anniversary trip in Feb 2012 to Malaysia-Singapore. It wasn't a concrete discussion till I saw myself 6 month shy of turning 30. We are as young as we are in our mind, but body does weigh us down sometimes. It was time to be not just be us, but be more than us. All along I wish if the good news come when we are on our Diwali break. I was about to get ready to go visit some place with my brother, when my wife called me and told me there are two lines. Clear as crystal! Though I was little disappointed she threw it away without showing it to me, but the clear excitement was sending me through the roof. The visit to some place with my elder brother also sorted somethings in my head. It made me realized that I need to calm down as the news can to be shared only after few months. Here there is the orthodox part of our society, but it is also scientific. Till the scare of the new development of life in the womb is normal, it is not a real news. This is something which lot of people who haven't gone through the process might disagree, but trust me, once anyone is in such a position, it is exactly how you want to play it.
Knot in the stomach
Keeping secrets are hard, especially of such a scale. My wife wanted to have this discussion to our parents only once we have lived the first three months. How many times I wanted to tell it to them, but held back. I am not the person to keep secrets, I am one with voice and words. Staying silent isn't my forte. Who else comes to my help but my wife (aka knight-in-shining-armor). She got me occupied with all the findings, reading articles on websites, listening each time at doctor's visit, that I became responsible about the whole thing.
Our first scare
"No parent should ever buried their own child", is a line from a movie. Our first trimester was going smooth and then suddenly my wife with the scared face told me about her first incident of spotting. And as always the orthodox in me doesn't know what it is all about. And as her face turned red and tears started to trickle down, I was petrified of what could have happened. But the father in me, somewhere growing actually came up with courage. I picked the ipad on the bed and searched immediately. I had heard of it, but didn't know any reason behind it. Two things happened from this incident, I found out about it and there was nothing to be scared about immediately. Mothers go through it quite often and there is high possibility that it will not affect the baby. Consulting the doctors and pacifying my wife, I over come the hurdle. The second thing was, there is a need of an elder. Even though we can do it all alone, it is necessary for them to be around for sometime at the beginning.
Arrival of the Grands
Each time I had talked to my folks the conversation will lead to one question, "When are we having the baby?" And so it was time to ask my folks to come down and take good care of my wife. I have known all my life that my mother wanted a daughter. She got two sons and being the odd person in the family there have been times that she has missed that feeling. I knew it, but I actually saw it with my wife. On one evening when my wife and I came back from office, my wife immediately hugged my mother like I used to do. At that point my wife was the child and my mother was just "The Mother". There wasn't 'in-law' around and my father & I had smile of content. "We are family"
The unexpected
Are responsible or not is a question only tested by a responsibility. The first trimester had made me trash the house less, come home on time more and cook even more (at any given chance). But what I never expected was to support my wife in a totally unexpected scenario. My father in law had health concern and as my wife was in delicate time of her pregnancy, my mother in law took three days to inform my mother only. For the first time in my life, I had to lie to my wife. All along the bad feeling, the weight of the lie was eating me out. And to hide a single lie we lie more. I had to visit my father in law without telling my wife. Wrapped in this lie, I prayed to God for forgiveness and health for my father in law. After I had stayed for 4-5 days, I came back to my wife. I had to tell her, responsibility was not about going and looking after my father-in-law (there are lot of people who I thank and are did it unconditionally), but the responsibility of handling this news with my wife in the utmost care. How I told her, how I consoled as she cried and how I responded to each of her question was responsibility. She took some time to recover, she talked to her parents, her sister and finally felt much better. Before our marriage she had asked for one thing and one thing only. I remembered that and I hope I played for the time the part of being a son.
Strange changes in strange ways
I am lazy to my bone. My wife knows that (all wives know somehow about their husband) and it was difficult for me to do household chores. My mom used to got mad at me, my hostel-mates know I do it once a month and now my wife knew turn to handle it. But I changed unknowingly. There was milk with proteins, soaking & peeling of almonds, handling the cravings of my wife. Every single laziness had to be put on the back seat. Shopping, movies or food of some type. All needs, all cravings have to be taken care of. Discussion with doctors and making points of each care for the mommy-to-be... Till now that has been the hardest part. There will be more of such times, but this was God's way of teaching the father in me to study kindergarten.
The Separation
Initially we had decided to have the kid together, but when it come to kids, being prepared for change is the only plan parents can do. After seven months of care we changed plans and my wife went to her parents' place for the delivery. I haven't been together since, the separation is hard as now I don't know what to talk about at times. Evenings passes by in silence, with sometimes ring of the mobile. We do talk daily, I ask about the baby kicks daily, I have seen pictures of my wife growing, yet it is a separation I have to live through. And it is important, really important, because I know it's God's way of telling the father in me, "Dude! It ain't about you. It is about the my creation! So chin up!". And every second I am spending thinking of the life which I will be holding in few months time... If a girl, the time I will spend dressing her up and the help she will setting up her kitchen-blocks and if a boy, the time I will spend running behind him!
Waiting for my family... to be continued!!!
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Ride of my life
Saturday, May 12, 2012
My thumbs tell a tale
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Rewind'2007 - Tribute to 5yrs of service @SAP Labs
Friday, January 06, 2012
Ignorance is bliss
Another loss, another moment of despair, from the highs of 2011, to the lows of 2012, Indian cricket can really take us on a rollercoaster ride of emotions. But for few it really isn’t so bad. They get on the rollercoaster when the team is doing so good, even my 90year old granny knows it and the moment the ho-ha around the game dies down, they are off. One of the examples is my wife. For her ignorance is bliss. When she consoles me about the loss, “You aren’t playing there? Why the sad face?” I wish she could understand what Rahul Dravid said at the Bradman oration. Every victory in cricket, fought hard by 15 men on/off field, is a victory for all who had, have and will have the never ending love-hate affair with the game. My wife will not understand that while she sees only loss in Sydney and the second loss of the series, I am thinking far ahead about the loss that might come our way in Perth, considered to be the fastest wicket in the world. The feeling comes from the knowledge of the game, though we wish for nothing short of a miracle.
Her ignorance about the game is what will give peace to a fan. But we all really can’t change our self. A game which has been the blood-stream of the entire nation, when people came out to street to celebrate our world cup heros (2007 and 2011) as if the next day, Bangalore won’t have traffic jams (actually it was Sunday after 2011 victory, so the traffic jam would be worst, a day after) or whether the corruption will reduce a bit. Every single thing will be the same only the joy of being called world champions is like sweet nectar. Still any loss hurts the same way, be it 1996 WC semi-final or 2003 WC final. We need to take the sweet and the sour together. That is how the world famous Thai curry is made and that is how the love of our game is.
I feel sometimes I could so easily shrug off the loss, like my wife does and move on. But how can I do it for the game which has left so many imprints on my life. Twice I broke my teeth, one got a swollen eye, bloody nose from fast bowler bouncer, innumerous times hit in the groin and finally a broken finger (still crooked in shape) which finally told me that the love can’t always transforms into talent. The imprint of the first cover drive of the fast bowler at school, imagining Rahul and not Sachin standing next to me saying, “Keep doing that for a million times and then little more and you will get there.” Or when I took my first dismissal as the school keeper, imagining Boucher patting on my shoulder and saying, “Nice catch, but you got lucky the ball stuck in the glow. Don’t get up fast, stay low so the movement is much better. Watch the ball till it thuds into your glows”. These are dreams while I soiled my clothes for my school team or when I played for my company’s team (for whatever brief time it was). The feeling of your team mates hugging you tightly because you have pulled of a miraculous catch inches of the ground, the feeling of the last ball thriller where you run out the batsman when he need one run to tie the game, these are memories flowing in our blood stream. My mother used to say, “As a healthy kid, you rarely had fever. But when a close match is going on or Sachin is nearing another hundred, you seems to have 100, 102 fever”.
With age we get attached to so many new things & we let go of something (like driving a bike), but if there has been any constant in life, that got to be Cricket. From as early memories of Hero Cup semi-final & final in 1991, to the World Cup in 2011 it has been two decade of heartbreaks, tears of joy and loads of “jaadu-ki-jhapi” with friends. I was alive when India took the first world cup in 1983, but of course at that time I was more bothered about pooping, sleeping and getting fed. West Indies came just after the victory and white-washed India in a five match series (or was it 3, not sure). History was bound to repeat itself. This time the location was reversed and of course a different team. India won the world cup in India, but got a white-wash in England. There are so many such incidents which remain in our subconscious and to ignore them just isn’t possible. We are somehow have been injected with the bug of “cricket”. There isn’t a remedy to it, even if it existed, none of us would take. It is the talking point in coffee corner, screaming scores across our cubicles or tapping a total stranger at the transit lounge to check the match score on his laptop (did that at Qatar airport while returning from Europe when I missed the first 2011 WC India-Bangaladesh match)
In times to come, our heros, our role models will retire. Dravid, senior to Tendulkar will be remembered as one sticky jam, who has dug deeper and got India out of the hole so many times. Laxman, the nemesis of Australia, will be remembered along with Azaruddin for his flicks against the turn, especially against legendary spinner Warne. I can’t say anything about Tendulkar, our own Demi-God. Like in my religion, we only pray to GOD and not discuss about his way of life. He and only he know what it is like to charge down the track to McGrath and hit him out of the ground. Only he knows that even a sand-storm in Sarjah can’t prevent him from hitting six against the wind. May be in time to come the game ‘cricket’ can be renamed and called ‘SACHIN’ or may be the ‘cover region’ will be called ‘sachin region’ in future. And when he goes on to score his 100th hundred (we waiting), once again I will be screaming on top of my voice sachinnnn…sachinnnn, knowing that ignorance isn’t bliss, it is feeling of the game (now delivered in HD) which completes us all.
- Written on the 4th morning of 2nd Test between India vs Australia 2011-12 series.
Thursday, September 01, 2011
My Eclipse Development Tips
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Accidental Love Story III
All people are slave to routine. From the time we are born, to the time we die. When niece was born last year, I saw them in different moods. Sometime she is happy, sometime naughty and mostly helpless, trying to go somewhere. That also becomes a routine and we all know till she start moving around, until then she poops, she eats and she sleeps. Mostly dad & mom will say, “What else they can do…”, “that’s all they can do.” And I generally reply, “Are we any different?” We join the Indian education system, which hardly changes. I went to the school for the straight 12years. Then I went to college for 4years. It is debatable whether “change is the only constant” or “routine is the only every lasting habit” in our life. Another routine with the modern metro-lifestyle is to buy our vegetables every weekend in the nearby super market. With fat purses and dangling MNC badge, we are the slave to the urbanized mode of everything we purchase.
Saturday morning is for waking up after the five days of slogging at the office. The cool morning breeze always brighten ups the day. The morning chores are slow and sluggish. No hurry up to read the newspaper, no quick showers and no skipping breakfast. Saturday begins with a warm cup of tea to pair up with the newspaper; warm slow shower or a tub full of water. After which my cook will make a nice breakfast which will be around 10am. A little chit-chat with him and noting down the list of items to be purchased in the morning and hence my routine of weekend begins with a lazy trip to the nearby super market.
The beautiful part of the trip to super market is how they stack up all the items neatly in rows. Even though some of the things are absolutely rubbish, just because it is neatly stacked up, we go ahead and purchase it sometimes. And when I make the lazy walks around the aisle, looking at unknown faces and stocked up trolleys a warmth apparits by the magic created by the supermarkets.
In all this routine, in all this warmth, someone sneaked into my life. When we have busy plans, life is one that passes us by. In my case, it was life which was making plans and was passing by the lanes in the super market. As I rounded the corner of olive oil, my thoughts pre-occupied with the list of movies which are playing in the theater, I bumped into the person ahead of me. She gave a short yell and then collapsed onto the ground, holding her ankle underneath the pink skirt with a lace boarder line. She turned around to scream at me, but somehow she couldn’t. Balancing her spectacles, she gave me the ugly glare. I removed the trolley out of the way and bent down with tones of apologies. It was an honest mistake and even though the evil-me was smiling for bumping in a girl, I was right now more concerned if she has not broken something. All along my stupid mind was thinking that picking her up will be like one of those romantic slow motion Hindi movie scenes; but it turned out to be opposite. She was so mad that as soon as I held her hand to pick her up, she dug her nails deep into my forearm. Biting the pain, I still managed to get her up and balanced on her two clumsy feet.
She said with a smile, biting her tongue, “the nails were for the bump. Now we are even.” And she walked off towards the counter to checkout her shopping items. While we were busy in bruising and falling, we both committed a silly mistake. While she carried my trolley to the counter, I too didn’t realize that the trolley and the content certainly can’t be of my preference. But the battle of the trolley and the nails wasn’t over yet. Nibble it may seem, life has some great moments. Few turns and picking up sports magazine, I entered the very queue she was checking out her (actually my) stuff. Just because of the huge person standing between us, I missed to see her, with her matching purse. But then I heard the same voice, stating it is a mix up and it is not her trolley. I saw my shaving kit and the sets of vegetables I have picked up, in the trolley next to her. It was then we both realized the mistake we have made. Suddenly I jumped the line; tapping her gently on the shoulder and saying, “Excuse me, ma’am but you went off with my trolley. Here is your trolley.” The smile was back and so was the glitter in her eyes. The fuming cheeks few minutes ago have turned into blushing plus dimple scenery. A quite thank you came back.
She checked out her stuff, while I waited in the queue, not one moment taking my eyes off her. She kept on looking back in between to check if I am still around. The person standing in the middle hand a bunch of items and while he was checking out, the girl in the spectacles was standing next to the rows of trolleys. Even without words, we were saying so much to each other. While her eyes said, “I am sorry for the nails and hopefully I am not stupid, standing here waiting for you.” And my eyes said, “Just hold on for a minute, while I get my items checked out. There is a coffee day round the corner.” As soon as I came out of the counter, she smiled and thrust her hand out saying, “Hi! I am Tina.” I smiled promptly and replied, “Hi! I am Alex”.
The conversation was initially apologetic, then cordial and lastly casual. The time taken from the “Sorry” to the “Oh, you too like animated movies” was all I needed to conjure the words, the charm to ask her for the coffee. After all, a leading chain says, “A lot can happen over coffee”. And when I finally say, those words, “Would you like to have a cup of coffee”, it felt such stupid, like I blurred rather than saying it in a charmed way. May be the stupid, boyish charm made her say yes. And we took our bags to my car and we drove to the nearest coffee shop. I wished I had kept my car a little tidy but sadly it wasn’t with all office papers littering the back seat. She didn’t mind much and added that she isn’t that tidy either.
The coffee tasted good, but the conversations were even better. Like minded people bumped into each other and now share the likings in books, movies and software profession. She was a content writer, working for MNC and was slave to the similar routine. Gladly she was also happy with the break of routine; meeting someone out of the blue. We exchanged numbers and a feeble promise to call each other. Neither of us was sure whether to call the other or not to.
As we headed different direction (she refused to be dropped back home and I didn’t prodded much) there was the hope of silver lining and the warmed of the spark. Some way love has found a way into our life or may be life planted the seed of love in our busy routine. Whatever it may be, it has happened.
I waited two days on a friend’s advice to call her. First think she said, “What took you so long” JWednesday, October 20, 2010
Our Life
7th Oct’2010
Every morning over my regular cup of tea, my wife and I discuss our daily work schedule. As my wife is more addicted to sleep, I often read her the headlines of Bangalore Mirror. As I turned over to today’s newspaper, it brought back the memories I have of the IT industry. When I started around 2004, BPOs were the major attractions for young breed of men and women. Even though I was not working in a BPO, somehow my lifestyle mapped to BPOs’ lifestyle. Starting my work around evening; coming back home the next day; having dinner in night-canteen or dingy food-courts, etc... One of the only benefits with this lifestyle was to get away from the bad traffic we all are accustomed in Bangalore. While the whole city, tired and frustrated, returned to the comfort of their home, we start our journey to office and while the same tired faces starts with wet hair and hot head towards office, we are yawning and heading home in the yellow-plated vehicles.
Yellow-plated vehicle, the cabs provided by our organization for picking us and dropping us back. A few hours of journey, few laughs with our buddies and lot of calls with our Managers on the missing reports, this is what we remember of the time we all spent together in the cab. Sometime even comparing like a kid who has got a better cab for this week or this month.
And today when I looked Pratibha Murthy murder case conviction report by the fast track court, we all know how it has changed our mindset. Earlier even though most of my female colleagues were cautious about when and with whom we are traveling back, yet we all were naïve of problems we could have faced. Sleeping on the way back home, talking over the cell-phone with our loved ones and not knowing which path the cabbie has taken are some of the common mistakes we all did. Our company enforced us to have the cab driver number, but most of us didn’t have the hotline number our company had published number of times. To add to the pile of mistakes, the guys always used to think it is a problem for the women and they should be more responsible. As friends we failed number of times to make sure they aren’t the last to be dropped. Time and again such incident shows us the real value of life. But we fail to learn, “Someone has to die in order for the rest of us should value life more”. Kids are piled in taxis and they go to school, yet we are waiting for a time some accident claiming an innocent child’s life. Every day I see the Volvo bus leaving Whitefield overloaded beyond capacity, yet we are waiting… Our life deserve more attention, it is precious!