“O tumi?” (You again?), I remarked as I got into the car my brother in law had arranged for me to go visit Jagannath-da and Santo-da (see previous post). The driver too immediately recognized me. I forget where – but this young driver – Kishore is his name – had chauffeured me around once before. I remember him as a very driven person. And very inquisitive. He had a lot of questions for me about America and how to establish oneself in life.

This time was no different! As he drove me to my village, we had some very interesting conversations.

“Ami America jaabo” (I want to go to America)
“Besh to” (Sounds good)
“Passport banatey diyechhi” (I am getting my passport made)
“Very good”
“Aar ki kortey hobey?” So, he wanted to know what else he needed to do to go to America.
“Visa laagbey” (You will need a visa)
“Visa? Seta kothay paabo?” (Where can I get a visa?)

So, I patiently explained how immigration works. I explained how he has to go the American Consulate in Kolkata and make a case why America needs him. I explained how if people have skills that we lack in America, they have a good chance of getting to America.

“Ami to gaari chaalatey paari”. (I can drive cars).
I gently broke it to him that there are many people driving cars in America and that may not be enough skill to impress the person at the consulate.

He became very thoughtful after that. In fact, I don’t think he asked me too many questions after that. I was feeling a little bad that I might have unnecessarily stymied a young person’s ambitions.

Soon, we pulled into our village and I got lost in my conversations with Jagannath-da and Santo-da.

On my way back, I was on an emotional high after my intersection points. Kishore suddenly asked me “Apnader okhaney aloor chop paoa jaay?”. He wanted to know if we get “aloor chop” in America.

Now, to the uninitiated, let me explain that “aloor chop” is a dietitian’s worst nightmare come true. And as such nightmares always tend to be – heavenly delicious to taste. Essentially, it is potato fritters – that is a specialty of my state in India – West Bengal. You get them in road side stalls. Roughly speaking, it is mashed potatoes (mashed with a lot more ingredients – but hot chilli peppers is one of them) that is then rolled by hand into small circular shapes, dipped in batter and then fried in a large container of oil that has clearly seen better days 🙂 ). And then sprinkled with “beet noon” (rock salt).

To die for. And then die from.

But I have never found this anywhere else in India or in the world, for that matter. And I have complained to Sharmila in the past about it.

“Aloor chop kintu paoa jaay na okhaney”. I admitted to Kishore that we do not get “aloor chop” in America.

I was thinking that he will remark that even in America, you do not get everything then… “Dekhun taaholey America-teo so kichhu paoa jaay na”.

He completely took my surprise when he asked “Ami jodi aloor chop banano sikhey niy, amaakey visa debey? Okhaney to eta keu banaatey paarey na”.

I had to laugh out very loud when I realized his angle. My God! He wanted to know if he learnt how to make “aloor chop”, would that skill be unique enough for him to go to America (since he figured nobody can make “aloor chop” in America).

I let him know that I do not about that but with his level of drive and focus in life, one of these days he is going to land up in America, for sure.

It made me think how focused this young gentleman is to improve his lot.

Which made me also wonder – am I still as focused to improve myself and my lot? And others’ lots? Am I still hungry enough?

Last year, one Saturday evening, sitting by myself around midnight, I was reflecting on my life and the various people who helped me thru that journey. Somehow, my mind went back to Jagannath-da who I had almost forgotten.

I was born a farmer’s son. My dad used to till land till he got a break and got a job in a steel plant that was getting constructed about 100 kilometers away from our village. During those very very early days of my life – a life comprising of a hut made of dirt, roof made of straw, ablutions in ponds, a lot of playing in dirt roads and such rural facets – Jagannath-da and his brother Santo-da were our heroes.

They both worked with my dad and his brother (my uncle) in the land that we had growing rice and potatoes. And they worked on a lot of household work for us. They – specially Jagannath-da – served a very important role in my life. I was too short then to pick the mangoes and tamarinds from the low hanging branches of the trees. And too weak and of terrible aim to fell them with stones. So, Jagannath-da used to pick me up on his shoulders and then I used to grab a mango or a tamarind. Or two.

That evening by the poolside started a near impossible search for Jagannath-da and Santo-da. I knew the name of the village they lived in but I did not have contacts of anybody in their or my village who would know them. Eventually, my dad had given away some part his land to Jagannath-da and Santo-da and sold the rest. Then we lost contact.

As luck would have it, when I was in Frankfurt during transit this time, one of my very distant cousin sent a message that somebody in that family of Jagannath-da (they were seven brothers and one sister and I am sure had at least twenty to twenty five sons and daughters) actually has a mobile phone and that my cousin will get me the number in a day.

She came thru for me. By the time I landed in Delhi, I had a number. After I landed in Bangalore, I called up that number and I asked whoever picked it up to pass it on to Jagannath-da. “Chintey paarchho? Ami Damu-r chhele Bachchu bolchhi”, I asked, half afraid that I might be a very distant memory for me.

I really had nothing to worry about. He rattled off a lot of things about me and our time together nearly fifty years back that I have mostly forgotten. Touched that he actually remembers me so vividly, I promised to see him and Santo-da this trip.

Yesterday, I made the trek to my old village. Dad had gone off to sleep in the afternoon. I grabbed a local guy and got him to drive me to the village. (My brother had to rush back to Kolkata since my elder nephew is down with fever now).

Just as the car turned at Shibtala, I could see two gentlemen sitting under a tree, umbrellas in their hand (it is rainy season here). I distinctly recognized Jagannath-da. I had to wait till Santo-da smiled to remember his face. I do not remember how long the hugs lasted but they were not long enough!

So many memories. So many things to thank for. Such great, simple and honest people from the yesteryears.

We went walking around the village and remembering some of the old spots. Found out that their family still till the land my dad had given them. Believe it or not, Jagannath-da – the one on my left – is 85 years old! He came walking from his village to meet me. Santo-da brought his bicycle!

That was one of my best intersection points of my life. These are people on whose shoulders I have – literally and figuratively – climbed upon to be who I am today!!! I hope to see them a few more times in my life and spend a little more time with them…

If words like Duke and Diana make you feel that the roots of the story lies somewhere in England, you would not be totally wrong.

Let’s go back a couple of days:
I was in Frankfurt airport lounge when I got a message from Anna – who lives in London – that she had seen my FB post of going to India. And that she would be headed to Kolkata to check on her mom too. She was curious if it would be possible for us to meet. If we did that, we would be seeing each other after about 32 years. I told her that I will give my best shot at it since that would give me an opportunity to see her mom too.

Let’s go back a little further. In fact about couple of years:
I had written a FB message to an Anna Mitra saying that I saw her post a comment on Anannya’s post. Looking at her profile picture, I had to ask her – “Are you Diana? If so, would you remember me? I am Rajib – your cousin Mem-didi’s friend from Durgapur. I used to play badminton with you and Simi (Anannya) when you were barely seven or eight during your visits to your uncle (Dubey-kaku) in Durgapur”. Fortunately Diana (aforementioned Anna) made no pretense of not knowing me even after recognizing me 🙂

That day, I got an update on her brother – Atanu – who was called Duke and her dad and mom. The sad news was to find out that her dad was no more. But the good news was that I still had a chance to meet her mom (we called “Pisi” since that is what my friend Aditi – the above mentioned Mem-didi – called her.)

Now let’s take another step back in time. About 34 years from today:
I was in a residential school near Kolkata. My friend Aditi studied in a school in Kolkata and she stayed with her aunt (“Pisi”). Both of us were studying hard those days to get into engineering schools. She was more talented than me – she cracked the engineering exam as well as the medical exam – I stayed with only the engineering exam.

Not sure how it works now, but those days, there were two very renowned tutorials by mail to help you get prepared for the engineering exam – Agarwal’s and Brilliant Tutorials. To split the costs, Aditi and I had worked out with our parents that I would buy Agarwal’s and she would buy Brilliant’s. And then about once a month or so, I used to catch 218/B bus to land up at Pisi’s place to exchange our materials.

Duke and Diana – who were very young then – always used to come and chat with me and after some time Pisi would shoo them away and ask them not to disturb us. (Aditi and I often had to ask each other for help if one managed to solve a problem and the other did not. That was probably not a very accurate way of portraying the true picture since I was the one who always needed help).

But the best memories from those days? The cup of tea and Nice biscuits that Pisi always served me. I am not sure if you get Nice biscuits any more – but they were coconut flavored rectangular biscuits with serrated margin. The best part was the twenty or so pieces of sugar that used to be somehow attached to the top. I am salivating even now remembering how the first bite used to taste. The only essential problem to be solved was whether to dive into a bite straightaway or dip it first in the tea!!

Now let’s try to time-warp all those timelines together:
When you do that, what you get is a room full of people together – some from my past and some I saw for the first time. Almost like those get togethers before – except fast forwarded by a generation. Got to see Duke and Diana after such a long long time. More importantly, got introduced to their kids who were absolutely charming. Discussing studies with Dipanjan on one hand and then talking to Ahona (little Olivia) about the cute street dogs and goats on the streets of India – that was just a nostalgic throwback to over three decades back.

Incredible part though was getting to see Pisi and thanking her for all the care she used to take of me when I visited her.

The time went by too quickly. Maybe Atanu, Anna, Dipanjan, Dipannita or Rina, you can help me fill in the details… all I remember is I was talking loudly and somehow we were all laughing constantly!!!

Let’s not wait for three more decades to laugh together again. I know for a fact nobody would want to hear a octogenarian Rajib talk loudly 🙂

Dibyendu had figured out that I was going to land from Hyderabad around 8:30 last morning. Trust him to keep track of all things going on with our classmates. The first thing he had told me a few weeks back was that Ananda Bhoumik was also going to land at the same airport around the same time in some other flight.

And that somehow burgeoned into a quick get together of some of our middle school friends even before I could step out of Kolkata airport. I had not seen Ananda since having some tea at a roadside stall (I think was called “Chheds”) in his college campus of IIT-Kharagpur. That was 1985! It was awesome seeing the guy – who was our role model those days in every which way – and continues to be so after such a long time.

Pratap took some time off from his vacation day to come and join us. He works in the airport. I am sure going back to his work place on his vacation day was not high on his list. But he did come out to do it anyways.

Speaking of airport being the workplace – there was also our inimitable Kaushik Bose. Who seems to be incessantly working on yet another business idea always. Also, between the three of these guys, we had most of the bulwark of our school soccer team sitting right there.

Of course the craziest guy was Atanu Bhadra – he actually drove for nearly 200 km (120 miles) to meet us. And after meeting us, he drove back home!! The four of the above also were the cream of our class in terms of academic ranking.

The surprise of the party was Arup Dutt who got wind of the fact that we were all near the airport – and on his way to office, he dropped by too! And by saying “wind of the fact”, I really mean, somehow Dibyendu had figured out that he was going to be in the neighborhood and gotten the message to him. Dibyendu is like the master of ceremony for all our get togethers.

Thank you Dibyendu and thank you Atanu, Ananda, Arup, Kaushik and Pratap for making it so special for me moment I stepped out of the airport.

I am not sure there are too many things I did well in my early years. But choosing of some great friends – that one I nailed it!!!

I was determined to see him. I was going to be in Bangalore after 12 long years. I have no idea when I will be in Bangalore again. There are lots of friends from my past that are in Bangalore. If I were to meet three of them every day for drinks, I can easily spend over a whole month in Bangalore. But I was determined to see this gentleman above anybody else.

1991 was the last time I saw him. Before starting my job life, I had visited the parents of my friend (Raj Subramaniam) from MBA days and spent a few hours with them. His mom is no more. That is a terrible lost opportunity for me. That resolved me to never make a statement that I missed seeing him (Raj’s dad) when I had a chance to.

Catching barely a few hours of sleep, I woke up very early in the morning to ensure that Bangalore traffic would not come in my way to go from one end of the city to the other, spend some time with the Subramaniam family and then go to yet another end to start the office meetings.

There are too many memories from this morning – seeing Raj – my MBA class mate, my team mate from a project a few of us did together in MBA school that I am incredibly proud of till this day (the others continued on that success to start their own companies – I was the only exception. In my defense, I just did the user interface simulation). Raj and I joined the same first job of our lives together – in fact, we even lived in the same apartment as long as both of us worked in Bombay. The quintessential calm and composed guy, he was, and continues to be the absolute opposite of me. I would come back from office extremely agitated and vent to him that the stupid computer CPU cycle was pitiful that I could only put in really half a days work. He would just keep staring at me and once he sensed that my lips had stopped moving, he would close his eyes and in that Zen like tone say “Good point”.

Seeing Kavita – his wife – with who I have talked often but never seen was another reward. The dosai she cooked for me? To die for!! Unfortunately, I did not get a lot of time to spend with her since she had to chauffeur the kids from their squash games to their classes and all.

Meeting Aditya and Saumya for the first time and finding common connection points? Very fulfilling!! As you can see, Aditya and I share the same passion in tabla. In fact, before running off to school, he sat down and played some for me. Saumya – who has a love for English and writing – a love I share – but not as skilled as her though – and I discussed whether to memorialize her writings in a blog or a book…

But nothing – nothing in this world – could top the fact, Raj’s dad came out to meet me and then we two went out for a walk. Imagine this: I am seeing him after 26 years. He is pushing 91. He grabbed his walking stick and led me. I was still in my office clothes and merrily walked beside him. Eventually Raj joined us after putting in a run. But before he joined us, it was uncle and I. I enquired softly about his house in Puliyannur, his grandkids, his other sons. He haltingly answered – all the while pacing me hard in my walk. I told him how I was a big fan of the newsletters he used to publish about the activities of his family members. (Raj used to bring those for me and I used to read them cover to cover).

That was a magical morning for me. Being able to walk side by side with somebody whose wisdom precedes me by about half a century and yet being able to connect with each other with some spotty memories from the past…

Yet at a metaphorical sense… it was always about walking together for a few steps. In life, we are all destined to have our own journeys. The memorable moments are created when we let each other walk a few steps – of those very different journeys – together. Coming to think of it – is that not what life itself is about? Welcoming and accepting each other in our life journey – as short as some of those steps together might be?

Thank you uncle for accepting me in your life journey for a few steps this morning…

I had last seen her in 1974. Second grade for me. She was my class teacher (home room teacher). After a very long search, I was able to locate her earlier part of this year in Hyderabad. I had talked to her and promised her that when I get a chance, I will come and see her. And then when I realized that I lost my third grade home room teacher this year barely a few months after meeting her after a gap of over four decades, I got a renewed sense of urgency to meet my other teachers that I have not seen after leaving their classes.

That chance came today. I was done with work in Bangalore. Needed to head out to check on parents in Kolkata next. I took a slight detour and flew to Hyderabad. Tomorrow very early morning I will head out to Kolkata.

Of course, the only reason to stop by at Hyderabad was to get a chance to see my second grade teacher. And I am so glad that I did it. I could not think of saying Thank You in any more meaningful way than to spend some time with her (we called her Mrs. Shastry) for all the guidance she gave me during my formative years.

We sat down and talked about our old school days. Some of our old school teachers and some of my classmates. Her memory was super sharp. Nishi Jain, if you are reading this, you will get a chuckle from the fact that Mrs. Shastry told me the story of how it was very difficult to reduce your cent per cent marks even by half a point. Apparently, your answer papers were perfect – down to the last comma, as she said. Mousumi, if you are reading this, she remembers you very well too.

We talked about the book she has written. We talked about a topic of interest for both of us – although she has mastery of the topic is far superior than mine – “how the mind works”. I learnt a lot about different kinds of meditation – specifically a lot about forgiveness mediation. I need to talk to her a few more times over the phone to learn some more on the topic.

It was such an exhilarating feeling sitting in the same room with my elementary school teacher after 43 years!!! 43 years!!! I have been alive for only 8 years more!!! That day when the report cards were given out in 1974, I bet you none of us thought that we are going to meet again. In a very different city. And I would be much older than what she was then!!!

There were more surprises in stock. Soon, I met her son, daughter in law and her granddaughter. (They had gone outside when I had arrived). Get this – her son and I actually went to the same school for a year (although he was senior to me). They live in Seattle!! And he works in Anchorage!! (On my work life side, we do a lot of work in Alaska!!). They too are visiting India now.

And her granddaughter – she is in Atlanta!!! (student in Emory). That is where we live!!!

And her grandson? Lives in New York!! Not too far from where Natasha is!!!

Crazy, small world or what?

Did I mention that I felt on top of the world saying Thank You to my teacher from four and a half decades back? That acknowledging I am who I am today because of people like her was incredibly rewarding? For both of us, in fact!!

The meeting over drinks with Dr. Jeyaram (see previous post) went on till 9PM. At that point, I had to say that I was too tired and would not be able to stay back for dinner. The jet lag and tiredness was starting to overcome me.

Our India office leader – Prashanth – was kind enough to drop me at the hotel. In fact, he came inside the hotel to make sure I did not have any trouble during checking in and all that. And something interesting happened while I was checking in. I was chatting up the young man who was checking me in and getting my room key ready and all that when I suddenly hear a “Rajib Roy? What are you doing here?”. I turned around – and who else but good old Arindam Banerjee was standing right behind me!!

Not missing a beat, I responded “I can ask you the same question”!!

Turns out Arindam – who lives in Dallas – was in town for work and was staying in the same hotel!! I asked the young gentleman at the counter to send my stuff to my room and introduced Prashanth and Arindam to each other. I had so many stories to tell Prashanth about Arindam – that eventually, we all moved to the dinner table for some food.

Arindam and I worked together for the first time in 1996 or 1997. There are lots of memories of late night coding from those days that I still cherish. Prashanth then told Arindam about the incident with Dr. Jeyaram.

So, I asked Arindam – “Do these things happen only to me?”

I thought he had the picture perfect answer – “Yes. Because you ask too many questions!”

Guilty as charged!

It was a big surprise though. To begin with, this was my first day in Bangalore for work. Went straight from the airport to the office for a day filled with back to back meetings. Thus, I was not expecting to have any intersection points.

One of my meetings was with a partner company in Bangalore in their offices. As I walked in to the conference room, I was introduced to all their members. When I said Hello to the CEO, something told me that I had seen that face before. During the meeting, as he talked, I became even more convinced that this was not the first time I was meeting him. But for the life of me, I could not place him at all. I thought of all the Bangalore work connections I had from the past but just could not tie things up.

During the break, I tried my usual quizzing about the past to see if our paths indeed had crossed or I was just confusing myself.

After a few more dead ends, I first started making some headway once I realized that he had worked in ISRO in his previous life.

“Were you in Dehradun?”, I asked.
“No”.
“Where all were you posted?”
None of the answers – which included Kolkata – offered me any clue.

“Kolkata has an ISRO office? I did not know that”, I confessed to my ignorance.
“Yes, in New Town. I opened the office there. I moved our lab from Kharagpur to Kolkata”.
“You were in Kharagpur?”… I think I started to get an idea
“Yes”
“In RRSSC lab, by any chance?”, I was warming up quickly
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“Second office to the right as you enter thru the main door?”, I persisted, ignoring his question.
“What? I don’t remember that. Maybe it was. How do you know?”
“Do you remember the first office on the left – diagonally opposite to you? There was a Mr. S.K. Ghosh there. Do you remember him?” I was hot on my trail… I was peppering him with questions after questions..

“Of course, I know S.K.Ghosh. In fact, he was in my team. He has become a professor in IIT now but we still work together on projects. In fact, I was supposed to meet him in Delhi today but I canceled it since you are here. He is a very smart guy. Wait!! How do you know him?”

“Well, I am not so sure about the smart guy part but I married his sister. He is my brother in law!!”

“Really?”, he was totally flummoxed.

“And you may not remember me – I had a head full of hair. Way back then – I cannot even remember the time frame – late 90s? early 00s? – I had visited you. My brother in law had taken me to his lab to pick up some printouts. And you were there in your office. And he had introduced me to you.”

For a few seconds, Dr. Jeyaram had no idea what hit him.

But I did hit him for a couple of drinks in the evening and we talked about that incident a little more. In fact, he even called up my brother in law from his phone and told him the story in front of me!!!

As I write this up from the airport for my exit flight from Bangalore, I got another call from him… he still cannot believe that our paths had actually crossed once before!!!