Stoned!

On a drive from Chennai to Kumbakkonam, with family, to spend the long weekend in a scenic, serene village 10 kms away from Kumbakkonam... The very thought was so rejuvenating. The family was so eagerly looking forward for the drive and the days after that. Plans were made carefully. And we left as per plan… without realizing what was in store for us.

We, as a family, are used to traveling by road quite often. We are proud that we are one of the maximum toll payers for using the wonderful highways. Starting from the junior most in the family all of us are quite experienced in navigation, exploration, map-reading and all the associated skills of travel by road.

What we had not experienced was a traffic jam on the high way in the past 20 years of our driving. So the first surprise started there. We started the journey by 4 PM.

What should have taken us just 5 hours of drive or probably 6, took 10 full hours. And how! The first four to five hours were spent in listening to the radio and inching the road thanks to the heaviest traffic jam we have ever witnessed on a high way. The 4 of us were shut inside the car each one lost in his/her own world. My hubby and I were alternating taking our official calls. Some time was spent playing video games which exhausted the mobile batteries to the extent the additional battery pack was also drained. All was still well though the traffic was irritating and taking a toll on our patience levels.

By 9 PM, we had reached half the distance. Even then, we thought, next couple of hours we will reach our destination. Though destiny had other plans!

At around 9ish, when we stopped for a break, I started feeling a kind of “catch” on my right waist. I owed it to the long journey and longer hours of work that I clock in. So, took it easy. Very soon, in less than an hour, the pain started traversing to the right abdomen. That was not all! I started feeling severe nausea. I asked my hubby to stop the car, rushed out and started throwing up profusely until I was almost drained.

From there on, every 10-15 minutes, the car would stop. I would throw up and we would continue the journey. All through, the pain was getting worse and excruciating. My sons were tired nursing me and handing the bottles of water to me every time I vomited. The little one got all too tired and slept off in a couple of hours.

My older son looked around for clinics, hospitals, medical centers, pharmacies. As (bad) luck would have it, we could not spot a single one of those! Desperation was going high and my pain was growing higher. What a miracle God’s creation is! My brain, in spite of this entire trauma, did not stop reasoning. Why am I going through this? What did I eat that did not suit me? Is it a relapse of Appendicitis? What else could it be? Why this pain? When did I eat junk last? All calculations and permutations and combinations…nothing yielded a cognitive response that could be reasoned for all this hell!

We kept driving into the woods. As midnight drew closer, we were still a couple of hours away from our “scenic resort”.  At that point, I fell semi-unconscious which my older son mistook for passing out. He held my pulse and gave out a very alarmed notification, “Dad! She is not even moaning now!!”

Worst was yet to come…we thought we had reached the resort. It was 1 AM. My mobile was out of charge! My hubby’s mobile had 6% battery left. The battery pack had died. Symbolically, everything around and within seemed out of charge! We had used the GPS to find the place where we were supposed to go to. After we reached where GPS took us, we realized we were lost and in the middle of darkness and nowhere!

This is when panic struck all of us! Not a soul on the battered roads. No lights. Mobiles are all down. My pain is increasing by the second and my vomiting is non-stop. Heavens! Am I destined to die this way??? 

With every move of the vehicle, my scream was hitting higher decibels. The roads were adding to the pain.

With the balance 6% charge, my hubby called the resort (finally!!!) I was throughout asking him to do that which he refused to listen! And the guy on the other end did not know where we were in spite of us giving some “landmarks” in an unknown, God forsaken land! Not sure how we got guided to the destination. Reached the resort at 1:45 AM. Phew!

I thought all will be well after I get to crash on the bed. The climax was yet to come. My hubby asked if we should go to a doc nearby. Since the roads were so terrible, I instantly refused saying I would be ok if I am left to lie down and sleep for a while. But sleep was not written for me that night (and for him as well!).

By 3:30 AM, I could not take it any longer. I said let us go wherever but I want this pain to stop. Back of mind my speculations revealed that it could be “kidney stones”. My sister had had similar symptoms years back. I had used the rule of exclusions. Nothing else could be it. With the help of the resort stewards, we went to a near-by clinic (10 kms away from our place of stay).

Screaming and vomiting continued all through! Never in my dreams would I get into such a hospital. Such was the maintenance standards of the hospital. Terrible! But when one is in pain, none of this matter! The duty doc came in checked and declared it was indeed ‘kidney stones”. He injected me twice and the pain stopped like magic. Vomiting stopped. I slept immediately. After observing for 20 mins he let us go.

The next day, I took a day of rest. Family had to tend to me. So, no outing, no sight-seeing. There was only one sight for all of them to see…me gradually recovering from the 7 hour non-stop pain! They were all just relieved with that!!

Next day we all set out and came back to Chennai! What an adventurous journey this was!!

Silver lining in this episode – this did not happen while I was traveling in a flight to or from the US; this did not happen while I was away from family on work.

Life is short. Life is unpredictable. Let us enjoy as long as it lasts!

Silent weddings

Right from my childhood, weddings mainly meant a lot of noise & cacophony – noise in the form of people talking in loud decibels to beat the sound of a “nadhaswaram” and a “dhavil”; high pitches of people giving instructions and orders and seeking clarifications on the procedures; screaming and crying of at least a few dozen kids all over the place; music systems blasting in one end; songs and dances; laughter of young girls, tinkling of their anklets and chiming of their glass & gold bangles; sounds of religious chants/vedic hymns; cough bouts of old & sick people who are there to see their grand daughter/son married off; and the noise levels soar high…

Used to such high decibel fun, my own wedding was something I looked forward to. I was waiting for the previous evening’s dances and songs and all the various chit chats and laughter riots. Thankfully, my cousin did some dancing for a couple of the then Prabhu Deva numbers, the evening before my wedding. That was all! I assumed that since it was an inter-community wedding some aspects of cultural entertainment had been sacrificed. How would I know that mine was the noisiest wedding till date in the northern part of Kerala? Least did I imagine that life would be so different in this aspect after my marriage.

The past almost 20 years of married life, I would have been witness to more than a dozen marriages. What baffles me is that both the groom’s side and the girl’s side marriage events have been totally silent! Especially on the previous day, around 5ish in the evening, feasts are arranged in the respective houses of the groom and the bride. All the villagers & relatives flock to the house in very normal attires – no grand dressing anyone. Men & women, with their heads shining & shimmering because of the coconut-oil that they have applied, come in lungis and nighties (or probably cotton mundu saris), give a dumb, limited edition smile, eat snacks, sip tea, sit around, chat in lowest decibels possible, then eat dinner and…leave. People are fed to their hearts’ and stomachs’ fullest. It is such a no-noise affair…no live/channel music, nobody even hums a song, no dance, no mehandhi, no sangeeth, nothing at all!!! No event at all, forget gala. Huh! For a person like me, this is/was/has been quite boring. Actually, very boring! The only exciting thing is that the entire village assembles in the make-do kitchen in the backyard of the house to contribute their share to cooking the evening feast. On one side women will be mounting coconut shells after scraping them till their last element of flesh, on the other men get together to make some delicious food for the evening dinner. This one sight is worth a watch! This tells me what community means!

Back-tracking to the noise-levels…

Weddings are even worse. Two things people check out on the day of the wedding – (1) food (2) gold. How much does the girl carry? It is immaterial if she has the physical capacity to carry those heavy jewels. One bride has to be heavier than the other in this aspect. Other than these two things, there is absolutely nothing that excites people. The groom straight walks in and ties the mangalsutra in a “not-much-ado” fashion, very matter-of-factly and takes the bride and walks away. THAT IS ALL! No “getti melam” shouting, no mantras, no agni, no pheras, no bidayees, no tears, nothing L So disappointing! The crowds rush to the dining hall once the groom ties the holy(!) knot. Actually, it is not a knot. He hooks her with a golden chain. Done. Chained. Once again, a grand meal is served. This is the one & only highlight of any wedding. And people flock to the dining hall and eat as though they have starved for a week or beyond. This is the limit!

We decided! For our nephew’s wedding, we arranged for a grand welcome of the bride’s party. We had the traditional “chanda” drums beating away to glory. We got the nadaswaram and dhavil for the wedding. We shouted “getti melam”. Thus we created some noise and excitement around the place. Villagers were in total awe!

Next it was our niece’s wedding. We had a repeat of the above performance. Our heart is content almost now.

Still one small desire unfulfilled. Unable to create any excitement on the eve…now awaiting the next wedding in the family to see if we can bring in any difference to this event as well. I would like to abolish the use of coconut oil for the heads at least on the eve and the day of the weddings.

Not sure if there are any parts in India where weddings are this uneventful and silent. Probably, Keralites do not like noise pollution. This is the only state that does not celebrate Diwali! To that extent, I feel that probably their literacy tells them not to pollute the place in any manner? Which is a wonderful thing…however, aren’t weddings meant to be fun?

In search of the perfect career path

(Posted by me in my company's internal blog)

As a child who was just 4 or 5 years, I remember one of my relatives asking me “What do you want to become when you grow big?”. I thought for a short while and said “A teacher!”. Most girls would have given this answer, not only in those days, but even now. Many of us get fascinated by our teachers. After all doctors and teachers are the first professionals we meet in our lives.

And then when I was about 10, someone asked me the same question. And this time I said “IAS”. Thankfully, no one asked me to expand it! In fact, I did not know that it had an expansion. I thought it to be an English word like “teacher”. So, where did I pick it up from? My grandpa was mentioning to my Mom some days back, looking at my horoscope, that I will become an IAS one day. I caught on to that. In those days, about 2-3 decades back, IAS was a great profession. It is even today but not for the political influence on the role and hence the dilution of the role itself.

Years rolled by… many things in life were decided by my parents and my elder sister, for me or on my behalf. Because they felt I was too ignorant to make serious decisions in life. I went ahead and did science & engineering as per their wishes. All was well until this point! I had others deciding for me. Whatever was dumped on me, I tried hard to show results. Eventually I did well making the decision-makers feel that they did the right thing by getting me to pursue a path of their choice/suggestion.

Thus I passed out successfully and then took up a sales job. I instantly fell in love with the job. It was good to see people get convinced with the products you are campaigning for and shell out their precious money to buy it. So I thought…this is it! “Sales” is my calling. Until….

…a colleague of mine wondered why I would sell timeshares after graduating from a premier Engineering institute! She insisted that  I look out for some good opportunity. And that I need not have worked hard on Engineering to sell timeshares. A normal BA would have been sufficient. I saw the point.

So looked out and found a good opportunity. It was one of the first IT companies in Chennai. They offered me a job and I felt may be this is where I ought to be. For the next 21 years, there has been no looking back! And I think I am doing reasonably well. Now is this what I was cut out for? I don’t know. But what happened to my aspirations of becoming a teacher and an IAS and of course my sales calling?

They still remain. The teacher in me comes out when I have to train my teams or coach my managers. The administrator in me shows up when I have to make some key decisions or put forth a strong case with my management. The salesman (woman?) is there all the time marketing myself to my teams, managers, customers and all relevant stakeholders.

Am I happy? Of course! After all happiness is a state of one’s mind and that is something no one can give you from outside. It has to come from within.

Career or Job…I have always asked myself. And throughout the answer has been career with a big C! The difference…it is ultimately the passion that makes it a career or the lack of it which makes it just a job.

I have stopped believing in creating our own career paths. We just tread on what we were created to tread on. But the policy has always been “do your best”. That passion has made the difference.

So…don’t worry about your career path. Just do your work today very well and do it better than what you did yesterday! That will pave the path to success! This in turn will ensure you have a career path.

Amma...Januechi!!!

The first instruction from my “would be” mother-in-law when the families met up for the first time, “Molea, Jayettannu villikanam, keta?” Directly translates to “Daughter! Address him as Jayetta!!” In Kerala, one is said to address with respect if the name is suffixed with “etta”. And I hated this instruction. C’mon! We are of the same batch and why will I “address” him differently to “show” respect? But…that was the beginning - not of the typical MIL tantrums but of the love & respect a mother has for her son.

My MIL, I call her Amma, and the village fondly calls her “Januechi”, lost her own mother when she was just 4 years. Raised by her older sister (age difference keeps changing every time we ask the sisters - for they don’t know when they were born) and her step-mother and her father, who was an Ayurvedic expert doctor, this girl Janaki, did not school beyond 4^th grade.

She was pampered and not shown any responsibilities until she married the NLC mechanic at the age of 18 (age guessed again). Innocent that she was, all that she learnt in cooking was “on-the-job”. It is said that my FIL could not control her usage of oil that he used to make measuring spoons just so that she does not over-use. However, every time the spoon itself lasted just for a couple of days. She was quite reckless in maintaining anything.

My hubby tells me that when she saw me the first time itself she took a liking for me. Now, after several years I think, she would have liked even a donkey if her son loved it J

After our marriage, she had to leave us and go to her village. She cried so uncontrollably that even my father was moved. So, on her next trip in a couple of months to our house I asked her why she wept so much. For which she said, “I felt bad that I was leaving my son in a dilapidated, deep well” (Nyaan enda mona pazhukenutrala thallinallo”). I was startled J

Have you seen or heard of a golden-hearted woman? You must meet her to understand what I mean. For her it does not matter who is suffering. All that matters is no one should suffer. I have personally seen her weep for losses anywhere in the world - be it Africa or China or America. She would skip a meal when she sees some sorrowful news on the TV. It is like her own family getting affected each time there is miserable news on TV or paper. For her, humans are all the same. She can’t see any human being getting hurt or going through pain. And for all this, her worldly wisdom is so limited and confined to the four walls of her house.

She has loved cooking for people. More the merrier… Which DIL gets her tea served every morning and evening for 15 years without missing a day, by the MIL herself! I am gifted. We were a great MIL-DIL pair. She loved cooking and I, eating. Just that I could not compromise on my principles to eat the great non-veg dishes she made. So, she used to first cook some good veg dishes for me and then prepare for the rest of the family some whacky non-veg. stuff. She would ask me to take rest while she cooks for us. Blessing! She could never “teach” cooking. She was a natural. And whenever I offered to cook, either out of fear of my culinary skills or out of her own passion for cooking she would say that I could cook when she is unable to. Sad that those days have started for me for a couple of years now!

In the four walls that she was confined in, she knew only one thing and only that mattered to her the most. That was – her only son! Sometimes (or rather many times), I have asked her if she was holding him in her womb for some 20 months or so. Such was her protection for her son. She would never let him move his little finger. All that she could not get from her own mother, I used to think, she gives it to her children and more specifically, to her son.

With her around, raising my own son was a huge challenge. Needless to say, since he was the first child of her only son, she had to make sure that the baby (until he became 12) was given a clean bath every day, had good, rich, tasty food for every course of meal, caught up with some sound sleep and played while he was awake for the little bit of time left. She made a big deal if I got tough on the child asking him to do his school work. She would come in to the room and ask her grandson, “Mone, endhengilam kazhikkam veno?” (directly translates to “Son, do you want to eat something?”). He would have just gobbled some snacks before settling down to do his work! And that is when she asks this question. My pressure would hit the roof.

She also has a good sense of humor. Whenever she serves food to her darling son, no one should be around talking to him or distracting him. So, during such times, if my FIL tried to make some conversations, she would stand behind her son and signal my FIL to get away. Yes. She respected her son so much that she would hardly stand in front of him and talk. She would not even sit when he is around. I have been truly struck by this.

For all that goes wrong in the family of 8 or 9 people that we were at one point, only two souls got blasted. One was obviously her husband. And the second was me. I used to tell my FIL that only the two of us were not her own “blood”. And we would laugh it off.

What beats me is how she managed to become a “Panchayat Member” in her village in a community of Muslims. That speaks volumes of the love and respect people have for her across religions. It seems during her campaign she was asked to get on stage and speak. She stood up and spoke and finally she had to end it with “Please vote for me. The identity is Umbrella” She did well throughout but she forgot the last bit – the identity bit - and fumbled on stage. People had to remind her and then she completed her speech. We laugh recalling this incident.

Age & health are taking their tolls on her. She lost her hubby after 53 years of married life. She knew nothing beyond him. We all see how much she misses him and it pains all of us. In spite of that, her deep worry is that she has been unable to raise my second son. Which MIL will be so genuine?

As I often tell my own mom who is the daughter of a military man, “You are my MIL and my MIL is my mom”. That have been the extremes of women in my life. One so tough and one so lenient. I am glad that I got the lenient one for my MIL J. Love you, Januechi! Love you till my last breath! 

IT Services - Management Myopia

I am no management guru. Like the trillion managers around the world I have my views based on entirely my experiences on “effective management”. Sometimes, I think that this one word “management” (like “Economy” and “Strategy”) is the most abused term in any industry. There are truckloads of books and blogs and articles written on “how to manage” and “how not to manage”. Here I’m, adding a leaf, to that clutter of rich repository.

Those businesses and brands that have stood the test of times, that have been in existence for decades, that have replaced the “purpose” with their own brand names (Xerox) - there is something that these organizations have done right to get to stay and that too on top for ages. What could be the reason?

Enough is talked about customer-centricity and employee-first. Having been in the IT services industry for over two decades, what I have come across is, in the rush to be the first, companies forget that they have lost sight of the larger goal or purpose of their existence. They start living by quarters. All that seem to matter to them is if they are better performers than the previous quarter. They keep checking themselves on a relative and an absolute scale all the time. Trying to scrutinize every move in the pretext of “healthy competition”, have we lost the forest for the tree? Looks like! In midst of this melee, once in a while, one management expert in the leadership team wakes up and proclaims, “Hey! It’s time to redefine ourselves. Let us see what we want to be doing?” Dude, you’re late.  There is already a lot of water that has gone under the bridge.

Agreed, we need short term focus, growth and results. But most importantly, we need a vision which is not myopic, a strategy which is not short-sighted. It is rather easy for anyone to show growth by cutting costs and saving by penny pinching. It is catastrophic when large businesses fail to think beyond margins and do not indulge in strategic games. Continuous strategic investments and calculated risks are a must to survive, compete and grow.  Corner kirana shops can excel by cutting costs but when large businesses do that, they will eventually become an object of ridicule by employees, customers and competitors.

So who is that spoil sport? Greed for bettering margins is definitely on top of the list.  But you need revenue in the first place. You need customers. What is the point making lofty margins this year but the very next year, your survival itself is at stake?!!

Indian IT companies should stop competing with each other. Instead, truly focus on quality work, long term customer retention, word-of-mouth PR, decent margins, happy employees and wise investments. They must put their country first before their business because there are other countries fast catching up. In a land of abundant talent, what is the point in appointing IIT and IIM products just to do some mean low-hanging jobs?  But until companies get assertive about things that matter to be in successful existence, we are only losing out slowly, to smaller sharks on the other side of the ocean, quarter-on-quarter.

Daughter in disguise

For a lady who has spent most of her time in the company of men…let me clarify…as a child and a girl until about 16-17 years of age growing up with a brother who was more than a twin and a cousin brother who led the way for all mischief…in college having good, well-meaning boy friends (friends who were boys)…at work colleagues most of who were men…in my own family surrounded by my own two sons and 6 nephews…my yearning for daughters and female company only increased. Of course, I have two nieces. One of them is still too small (literally and figuratively). The other one…the post is about her!!!

She shares my month of birth and I am glad she is a Leo. But just the opposite of me. For my 100 words, she speaks hardly 10!!! For my speed of speech, she would lose to a snail. For the loud person that I am, she is such a simple, quiet, sensitive darling. Yes. Darling, she is! The only common trait of a Leo that she shares with me is the laughter - we both laugh at such high decibels that any glass would break. I love those moments.

I met her when she was hardly 4! My then “would-be” introduced her to me. She was his sister’s daughter. I was hardly 19. I fell in love with this chubby doll. When she spoke to me first, I was 27 or 28. It took her almost 10 years to even strike a one-word conversation with me. I used to play with her, watch movies, hang around chatting (mind you, only I would be talking…she would either laugh aloud, smile or shed a tear depending on what my stories are).  I saw her blossom from a child to an young school-going girl to a smart engineering graduate to an ambitious career woman and today she is at the threshold of the most important phase of a woman’s life. Yes. She is getting married in the next few months.

Having done her schooling predominantly in a so-called English Medium school way up in the Northern part of India, I have always wondered at her command on the English language. One of those few people who defy all laws to prove that it is students that make a school and not the other way around always. I am proud of her.

In the recent few years, she has really understood what a working woman has to go through balancing and juggling family and work. She has matured into a responsible person capable of making assertive decisions. Most importantly, she stood like a rock against so many odds to get the man of her choice! I like her values.

Many times I have wished she would have been a lot better had she invested more on her health. Many times I have wished she would pick up a few hobbies and excel in each of those. Many times I have wished she would socialize more, shedding her inhibitions to speak up. But for these, she is a perfect daughter a woman can have. What if I do not have a daughter that I haven’t delivered? I have Rintu…she is my foster-daughter! 

Amma...Jeejukutti!

I have always wondered why we award a person posthumously. Just how does it matter? All commendations and appreciations, I truly believe, must come in when the person is alive and is in a condition to rejoice the attention and accolades. This lingering thought went on until I was looking at the blogs that I had written. For people as close as my father or father-in-law, I was never able to tell them what they meant to me or the family, when they were alive. It has always been discussions and debates with them without giving them any credit for all their struggle in making our families. So, I thought, at least I will refrain from making these “posthumous credits” for my surviving mother and mother-in-law. Two women who have made me the person I am today in their own ways.

First about my mother…and in a different sequel post about my mother-in-law.

How many times have you come across a not-so-well-to-do family’s 5^th or 6^th child being a star and an enterprising character wherever he/she goes? That too, in the previous generations, a girl/woman being a star in a normal middle-class TamBrahm family has been a rarity. She was born the 5^th of the 8 siblings. Her mom did not want her and hence did not bother to christen her. Her dad was a charismatic, different thinking, army man. He rejoiced the birth of every child of his and this one was no different for him. He christened her Jeeja Bai in respect of our national hero Shivaji’s mother who made Shivaji immortal. He raised her more like a boy.

At the age of 5, when she went to school, she failed in some subjects. But she came home cheering that she was the “one & only” failure in her class. Her father did not chide her. Instead he saw in her the rearing to be the “one & only”. So, he adviced her on what failure meant. That was the last time she took pride in being a failure. No looking back! Whatever she did from there on – she was definitely the “one & only” to show that kind of a roaring result. Be it academics, sports, dancing, singing, composing, handling her large family when her father was deputed to the war front, raising her husband’s (yet another large family) when she got married as the first daughter-in-law of the house…She has shown how to excel in each of the tasks that she took up. All this not by being aggressive but by being assertive and caring.

She has been the pillar of support for men like my grandfather or my own father in times of crisis. She has proven many a times that she is a born leader. Episodes in her younger days where she has taken rapid decisions regarding her own brothers or sisters, are testimony to her leadership abilities. Now, one may ask, what is the big deal deciding for one’s own siblings? That is where she was different.

From a “not-so-well-to-do” family she was married off to a “not-at-all-well-to-do” one. That poverty struck her the day she entered my father’s house. Without a question, she gave away her jewels to her hubby and asked him to pledge all that and fund the family for their feed!!! Not just a question of magnanimity but also that decision-making skill. She had given up a wonderful job as a Central Govt Officer to marry my father only to start hunting for jobs post marriage. She landed only in mean jobs – like a clerk or a teacher – which fetched her meagerly. In her own words, even that was a big relief for that family of 9!

My father was the oldest of 6 siblings with aged parents. So, without any question, the family baton of responsibilities was on him. He accepted willingly and more than him was my mom on his side. She never ever thought of her own siblings or parents from the day she became Mrs. Jeeja Bai. This continued until my father passed away. Her vision was so aligned with my father’s! She was instrumental in getting his family of 6 settling down in jobs, getting his sisters married off and then for all the rituals that follow after the sisters are married off, taking very good care of her parents-in-law…all this on top of her own 3 children who she wanted in English Medium schools no matter what that meant monetarily. She earned through extra tuitions to fund for her childrens’ education in English Medium.

Hardly have we seen her remain in a bad mood. All of us get our mood swings. All of us get enraged with situations or people. But the attitude of not keeping all this in mind all the time and not allowing negative energy to persist was one of her best traits.

I can go on and on about this amazing woman who I call my mother. But in one post to cover all her greatness would be gross injustice to a leader and a mother like her. There will be follow-up sequels to this post but each one covering just one episode which will have valuable lessons to women of any age. So until the next one…signing off!