12 March 2015

This is why I love the life on the road….

There is an old Nazrulgeeti (songs written by a famous Bengali poet called Nazrul) that went something like “Potho cholitey / Jodi chokitey / Kobhu dekha hoy…”. Roughly translated, it means “Traveling on this road / If someday, suddenly / I get to meet you”…

That was the song that I was remembering as the Delta flight from Portland started its descent in to Minneapolis. I had an hour and a half layover to head out to St. Louis. And my mind went back to Joydeep – our good old friend from Dallas days – who is one more of those great persons that I got to know personally and professionally. He had joined our group as a young guy way back at the turn of the century and has since, reached one professional highpoint after another. In the latest great career move, he has recently joined a Minneapolis based company. I recollected, sitting in the plane, that he had mentioned something about bringing his family to Minneapolis for house hunting.

Moment the plane landed, I sent a text message to him saying that I was in his vicinity to make sure his house hunting was going on well and he that had had no second thoughts of staying put in Dallas.

No response.

The plane was yet to reach the gate. I called him. Went straight to his voicemail. He had either finished his trip and was inflight back home or his cellphone battery was dead. Called his wife – Swapna who is also a dear friend of Sharmila and myself. Went straight to her voicemail. “Dang! they are headed back to Dallas”, I thought!

When we got out of the gate, I checked the American Airlines (based out of Dallas) screen. Sure enough, a Dallas flight left half an hour back. Could not believe how close I came.

And then I got a text message saying “Just landed”. I did not immediately respond, figuring I would do so after reaching my gate for the flight to St. Louis. In about ten minutes I got a call from Joydeep asking where I was. A few confused minutes later, I realized, he had not left Minneapolis. In fact, he just landed. His family was joining him in Minneapolis in a different flight.

As you can imagine the next few steps included quickly checking airport map, rushing towards an agreed upon point and get a quick drink together. His family eventually landed too but they had proceeded to baggage claim and could not join us due to the security stuff.

It was absolutely great to get together with such an young and dashing guy as Joydeep.

As my flight to St. Louis took off, I was again thinking of the odds of meeting somebody that I was just thinking of an hour back. He, coming from Salt Lake City. I, just connecting thru! Again, I was reminded of the Nazrulgeeti!!

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4 March 2015

Sometimes you land up making a difference without even realizing

A few months back, Ritesh had reached out thru Facebook reminding me how we got to know each other – I had interviewed him in campus (this was also my alma mater) and offered him a job in Dallas. He had reached out to me to thank me about that event from fifteen years earlier. He felt a lot of his subsequent success in career and life was defined by that moment. And he had a request to meet me sometime during my travels. I had promised him to do so and wrote down in my small notebook of “People I have promised to meet”.

Yesterday was a pretty long set of meetings in New York. First the customer meeting went an hour over (which is usually good for business 🙂 ) followed by the customer’s request to have a drink after the meetings (which is usually very good for business 🙂 ). However, at the end of all that I did get a chance to meet Ritesh. Unfortunately, I had to make him wait as I finished all my calls which had gotten pushed out due to the disruption in my calendar.

As I finally put my phone down and shook the hands of patiently-waiting-Ritesh, my first question was “Is there a single puzzle I have posted till date that you have NOT cracked?’. If my memory serves me right, he has cracked most of my puzzles.

We got out of the hotel, trudged through slush and sludge (NYC had terrible weather) and went to a restaurant nearby and settled down. And then caught up on the past fifteen years. It was absolutely heartening to hear about his success in career as well as the tremendous progress some of his batchmates who were also recruited that time has made over the years.

Surprisingly, we spent a lot of time talking about life, death, time and such other things that I would not have expected anybody who is still some way away from 40 to show any interest in. Finally, just as he was leaving, I found out one more connection – we lived in the same dorm (each dorm had 30 students) – D13 – although separated by nearly 10 years!

It was good to catch up with this gem of a human being, Ritesh!!

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11 February 2015

It is not often that you trek for eight hours just to say goodbye.

Our company meetings were done for the day. It was a gorgeous afternoon in Miami. Everybody got the afternoon off for R&R. My R&R was to go for a long run. I had already roped in Bob Vander Meer to run with me. You may remember Bob from a previous blog of mine where I wrote about he and his wife Audrey’s five adopted kids. I figured I might have caught Bob on a weak day since that morning he had already put in 9 miles (15K) of run at 7 minute and change per mile pace early at 4 AM. If I had any prayer of keeping up with him, that had to be my day.

With that, we hit the roads. In under two minutes, we found good old Mark Abatto on the road and got him to join us too. That was the second part of my strategy to slow Bob down (or at least not be the only one feeling bad that he was way ahead of us). The three of us headed straight towards the beach. The scenery was so beautiful that we did not realize how the miles came and went.

Finally, after putting in 5K, I suggested that we take a “beer break” (thereby unveiling my third part of the strategy to slow Bob down 🙂 ) We pulled into a restaurant, sat outside, ordered some water and beer and wine and settled down. I was so fascinated by Bob’s adoption story from our previous meeting that I had to ask him “Tell me some stories of what you thought of Ethiopia when you went there”. Both Mark and I learnt some fascinating aspects of Bob’s kids, Bob and Audrey and the country. Some of the really interesting stories as I recollect…..

Bob and Audrey were contacted by the adoption agency to enquire if they would be interested in three siblings. That was not what they were prepared for – but I guess there is no end to their generosity and gracefulness. Soon, they were on a plane to meet the three kids. The three (out of four) siblings had lost their dad to a disease. Their dad died in front of them. Soon thereafter, their mother was killed right in front of their eyes stemming from a dispute over – get this – a cow! Their eldest sibling (less than ten years) hauled his three brothers and sisters and trekked it up to a uncle’s house that he was aware of.

That uncle took them in but eventually could not support them. He kept the eldest one to work in the farm and brought the other three to the orphanage explaining he had no ability to support them. And once they all contracted diseases, he had no option left but to give them up. Bob and Audrey met their extremely malnourished future kids – thin as a rail with bloated bellies – in that manner that day. While they were there, a gentleman walked up to them one day and explained that he had trekked for eight hours just to say good bye to those three kids. It was that uncle!! He had heard back from the orphanage about the good news and had come to spend a couple of more hours with the kids. He spoke to the very young kids for two hours in their language and then turned away to trek back for another eight hours.

The high point in the story for me was when Bob talked about reading my story of taking my dad to his birthplace last month and that he wants to do it some day for his kids. He wants them to meet their eldest sibling some day. Just like me, he has been Googling the names of the places he is aware of in their history. Unlike me, he found out that, for the last leg, he has to walk for two and a half hours to reach the village. That is the only mode of transport today. I, at least, got to drive wherever I went.

“So, how are the people there in Ethiopia?”, I asked.

Extremely poor, he said. That did not surprise me. What surprised me is that he found them to be the happiest people in the world in spite of (maybe because of???) lack of money. They never felt insecure there because everybody was so helpful. And they had a very strong value system.

“What do you mean a strong value system?”, I asked.

There was this time that one of the girls in Bob and Audrey’s group (they had gone there as part of a charity organization) lost her iPhone. There were a lot of kids they were mingling with and she suddenly realized that she was missing her iPhone. She went and told somebody “My phone was here and I cannot find it. Could you help me?” I understand she was being apologetic, being careful not to offend anybody in a new country. Somebody talked to the kids. Evidently, all the kids, like a swarm of bees, got together in one end of the ground and confabulated amongst themselves. Presently, one kid was singled out (who apparently could not help himself from the fanciest gadget he had ever seen) and he then walked up to the girl and gave her phone back. Everybody was happy.

And then when this kid went back to the group, every other kid beat the daylights out of him. You can only imagine how the Americans were feeling seeing all this violence to this kid. Amidst all these protests and protestations (“It was just a phone”, “He is just a kid”), somebody pulled them aside and said – “Do not mess with them. When an individual brings ignominy to the whole group, the group has to teach the rules of staying in the group. That is the only way communities can survive in our country.” I have to admit, I was like “Yeah!, we should try some of that self policing ourselves in this country!!”

“You are making it sound like it is a great country. Tell me about some of the underbellies of the place”.

“Well”, Bob explained, “there is this place called Korah – which is a part of Addis Ababa. That is where all those afflicted with leprosy and orphans are sent to”. “You mean, they throw their helpless people in one corner?”, I gulped. “Yes, they literally live in trash. And I mean trash”.

And yet, another beautiful story awaited me in that trash. Bob and Audrey ran into another girl – who was from Korah. Angels as they are, they wanted to adopt her too. Unfortunately, she was beyond the age of adoption in Ethiopia. So, they did the next best thing they could. They financially support her to go to a boarding school – where she not only gets a place to live in, she gets education too. Evidently, Ethiopia has this help at least for orphans. If somebody will pay, the orphans can get a boarding and education. If any one of you ever want to support a kid there, please get in touch with Bob and Audrey directly (Audrey is there on my Facebook).

“What has been the one thing you have learnt from them, Bob”?

“How we think about life and death. To them, they have seen death from so close that they accept it as a part of life. They do not understand what is the big deal about it”.

I made a mental note to chew over that some time later. Immediately, though, we had run out of beer and wine in our glasses. So, we signaled each other and the three of us hit the road again to run back another 5K back to the hotel.

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9 February 2015

New friend from this morning!

One more of those Monday mornings. In the airport very early, long queues for TSA Precheck (much longer than the normal ones) and thousands of people milling around like a retinue of ants in your yard. I kept up with my usual routine – checked in my suitcase (it is one of those that you carry on with you but I have started checking in so as to let me board the plane as one of the last passengers in a unhurried fashion), walked to the one TSA PreCheck line that I know is usually shorter and then instead of taking the train, started the long walk to my Terminal in the underground tunnel.

Somewhere during that walk, I saw this gentleman. First, I thought it was recorded music. And then I noticed it was he who was playing it. He was playing the saxophone so beautifully that I had to stop there and hear him play for about ten minutes. And then during his break, I found out from him that Atlanta airport has started this program for local musicians to come and perform live at the airport. It was then that I recollected that a few minutes back, I had indeed passed another gentleman playing the piano (on a keyboard though) in the large atrium area between North and South side of the airport (before security). I should have taken a picture of him too.

Atlanta airport has a great Arts program where it features a lot of local artists of all age and their creations in the airport. It was great to see them promoting music too!

In any case, I was getting late. As he went back to his saxophone, I resumed my long walk again….

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31 January 2015

Maybe this is why my parents always insisted that I study hard!!

I picked up the iPhone from the passenger side seat as I hit the road for a two hour drive to an offsite meeting and gingerly pressed the numbers. The familiar wait and then the familiar ringing tone from India. And then followed what seemed like endless hours.

What if I found the wrong person? I had gotten her phone number by putting together a few breakthroughs I had had and a few phone calls I made while in India and on my way back. Even then, Suparna (who was the final link the in the chain) and I had doubts whether we were talking about the same person.

Worse, what if she did not recognize me at all? Would she believe me if I named a few common friends? Can I jog her memory by specific incidents that I remember? That would be a total anticlimax for another painstaking search.

If I reminded her that we studied together in the same class and section – although just for one year, 1975 – would she remember? If I told her that we used to go in the same school bus and we were separated by one bus stop only – would she remember? I had vivid recollection of her. Every morning, I would get in the school bus and by the time I would settle down in the first row of the bus, the bus would have stopped at her stop and picked her up. Almost always I would be the first person to greet her as she got on to the bus. And she was always the person who would wave me good bye when I got down from the bus after school and started my walk to my home.

I remembered her first name distinctly – Malabika. For the life of me, I could not remember her last name. The closest I had come to tracking her was about a few years back while looking for Arghya (who lived close to Malabika then). Fortunately, I was able to track him down after another long search, but not her.

Somebody picked up.
“Hello?”. It was a female voice. Good first step 🙂
“Is this Malabika?” Good second step 🙂
“Yes. Who is this?”
Now came the most difficult part.

“I actually studied with you for a year. That was way back in 1975 in Benachity Junior High School. Do you remember me? My name is Rajib Roy”.
Pindrop silence. Dang!!!

“You lived on Ranapratap Road, did you not?”, I asked starting to lose hope.
“Yes, I did”.
“And you did study in the Benachity Junior High School, did you not?”
“Yes, I did”.
“And you took a blue colored mini bus to go to school everyday, did you not?”
“Indeed!”

Bingo! I had the right person!! Now the problem was to see if she could remember me.
“Do you remember me? I lived in North Avenue. I had a very close friend Arghya who lived near you”.
I don’t think she could hear everything I said. But she heard the “Arghya” part.

“Is this Arghya?”, she asked with some excitement in her voice.
Dang!!! Striking out again, I realized 🙁

“No. This is his friend. And yours. The name’s Rajib Roy”.
Something stirred in her memory.
“What did you say your first name is”?
“Rajib”
“Rajib – maaney amader class-er first boy?” (Rajib – you mean the guy who stood first in our class?)
“Well, I did stand first in the section you and I were in. Not for all the sections combined. I think Nishi beat me that year”. She was clearly jogging my own memory.
“Of course, I remember you. I forgot your last name.”.
“That’s okay. That makes two of us :-)”.

Forty five minutes later, I realized that in all those trips to my dad’s house in Kalyani, I have been literally driving past her house every single time!! But what was most inspiring was to learn about some steep challenges her personal life had thrown her way and how she conquered all those challenges and came up on top of the heap of those difficulties.

To become a single mom supporting two daughters and one daughter yet to be born and then single handedly raise them to be successful human beings is not exactly for the faint of the heart. Especially in India.

One unfortunate part – I missed her mom by a few weeks. I remember her because she used to come to see Malabika off at the bus stand. Regrettably though, she passed away in the very recent past.

You can only guess what one of my goals for the next India trip is going to be!! Apparently, we are not done with waving each other good bye yet….

For once, I will admit that there is some good that came out of my parents constant nagging me to study hard when I was a kid. I wonder if Malabika would have made the connection had it not been for the report card that year!!!

29 January 2015

Cat got my tongue!!

One more in the series of India trip this time. It is more of a non-post than a post.

I am the last one who is at a loss for words. Right words, maybe. Words? Never 🙂 And yet, I have failed three times to lend words to my feelings of meeting Moniruddin (Khokon) and his family. You may remember how my first friend of life suddenly vanished from my life one fine day without much of a notice. And then how that started a very very long search to find my first friend of life. I distinctly remember the frustration and fear I had some days that I probably will never get a chance to see him again.

And yet, I did manage to see if – thru a lot of perseverance and a very well timed encouragement from Sharmila to keep looking. I had poured out my heart explaining the search and that first phone call I ever made with him after I was able to locate him.

Then, in a few weeks I actually visited him and his mom. My mind was an absolute etch-a-sketch of emotions – of actually getting to see in flesh and blood somebody that I had searched for a long time, somebody who was my first playmate in life, his mom who took care of me so much and that I had missed the chance to see his dad by a few years who simply used to dote on my the-then-very-young brother. For a couple of weeks, I had attempted to write out the experience of meeting him. Eventually I gave up. I was getting too overwhelmed to find any words.

Then I visited him again a few months later. This time, his mom and I sat down and talked endlessly about our lives. I know I had a lot to write about. I was not wanting in materials. And yet again, I could not find a way to express my feelings properly.

This time, I took my parents with me. It was almost like an action packed movie. My parents were so thrilled to see Moniruddin that they forgot to even walk to his house. They stood near where we had parked the car (See pic) and kept talking excitedly till my brother reminded them that his mom was probably waiting for us.

My mom and his mom were very close. And they got to see each other after a long long time. For the first few minutes they could not even talk without holding each other (see pic) – probably still not believing that they actually got to see each other. Unfortunately for all of us, uncle was not there to join in the get together. But you can see in the picture how my dad and my friend were having a great time together.

Now I know why cannot ever write a good post on meeting my long lost friend who appeared again. It is that last picture. It is that poignancy of his mom standing at the door of her house every single time silently. Every time I start writing I start imagining what must have been going thru her head – perhaps wondering whether she will see each other again? And that is the exact question I carried with me almost my entire life.

I think I need more time to express what it really means to get back your very first friend of your life.

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29 January 2015

An unique intersection point

This one has an intriguing twist at the end…

Having already met two friends from school days, I still had some time left before my flight was scheduled to leave Dubai. Fortunately, Shirshendu had said he would be free after office. That was the opportunity I needed. We got together at a bar near the airport for a couple of hours. We had been trying to co-ordinate a meeting for a long time.

Of course, it always starts with updating each other on our old common friends. And we had a lot of those to catch up on. And there was the Kalyani connection – his sister and his parents (separately) moved to Kalyani. As did my sister and my parents (separately).

Then we got to know about each other’s families and how he moved to Dubai to sell books and eventually worked his way into a successful executive in the construction business. I also learnt about his mom today. At the age of sixty five or so, she decided that she needed to learn something new. So, she took classes in recitation (elocution, reading poetry or as Bengalis would say “abritti”). Here is a stunner – within a short period of time she excelled in it and has given multiple performances. She now performs in TV too!!! Evidently, nobody has heard her complaining! She always has a solution ready before she articulates a complaint. I absolutely need to meet her. And probably take my mom with me too 🙂

If you saw us for those two hours, going thru the updates of friends of different stages in life – early school, late school, college, work etc etc – one by one in great detail (including the names of minibuses one of our friends took to meet his girlfriend – yet another common friend of ours) you could be easily forgotten for not realizing one small detail. And that twist is that you would have never guessed that Shirshendu and I had never met each other ever. Till today!! We never studied together in the same school at the same time. We were never classmates in our entire life.

But we had a zillion common friends. And through those friends, we were always deeply aware of each other. It is like we ran in parallel lines intersected by many many friends at the same time but our lines never intersected!

It was great meeting Shirshendu for the first time and catching up on all those old friends…

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28 January 2015

“This was the best two hours I have spent in a long time”

That is how my friend from school days Sanjay Sethi wrapped up our meeting. I had not met him and Saji Abraham ever since we finished our tenth grade. I had a thirteen hour layover in Dubai. That was as good a reason as any to catch up with two friends that I had not seen for 32 years!! Saji was kind enough to pick me up and drop me off.

The three of us went thru the whereabouts of about half our entire class (we had a total of 103 students). What was most heartening for me to see was how two of my friends from very early days have become such great successes professionally and personally. One has a thriving business here in Dubai and the other has globe trotted thru his entire high flying career in the banking sector. But above all, they always have time for our old school mates.

Got some real inspiration talking to them today.

Sanjay’s description aptly described how we felt walking away from that coffee place….We missed Sanjeev Gupta – the other high flyer today….

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28 January 2015

Will I be able to make the adjustment?

It was a long – really long drive from my brother’s house to the old age home where Sanghamitra’s mom stayed. That was Kolkata crowded roads in a terrible form. Honestly, I was a little apprehensive of what a old age home might look like. I had never seen one before. But mostly, my thoughts were around analyzing why are old age homes becoming more common now in India. Even at the turn of the century, fifteen years back, it was not that common, if there were any at all.

Slowly it started dawning on me how the society in India is going thru an evolution many developed countries have gone thru some time back. With the advances in technology, communication and transport, people have moved further away from their parents’ homes for jobs. First, communication has made it possible for people to know of opportunities in other parts of the country. A few decades back, nobody in Bengal would probably know about great opportunities in Bangalore. Second, advances in transportation has made it possible for people to live elsewhere near jobs and yet be in touch with their loved ones in a far more easy fashion. As as the middle class grew in general in India, like every human being, so did the need for independence and privacy.

In the first wave, that broke the concept of joint families. My father is a great example. He moved away from his village a mere 100 km (60 miles) away but that was his ticket to economic independence and freedom. He visited his mom every weekend in the village but it was a joint family no more.

It appears that there is a second wave going on now. In the previous wave, there was still one or two kids who always stayed back in the parents’ home and took care of them. But as communication and transportation continued to advance, kids of the middle class started getting exposed to opportunities much further flung away – totally different states and even different countries. Add to that the fact that people started having less number of kids (a reasonably success Family Planning Programme was launched in India in the seventies) and increasingly families are having both the husband and wife working. What that is resulting in is a wave of parents who have retired but suddenly find themselves without any kids or grandkids near them.

The kids and the grandkids are succeeding by most every benchmark a middle class family can measure with. But the associated casualty has been a further breaking up of the unit called a family. The kids have great intentions but no ability to take care of their parents (remember they are trying to optimize their life around their own kids’ education and their own professions, just like my dad did). Sometimes they are not even in the same country. Meanwhile, day by day, the parents are losing their ability to support themselves.

There is another effect I have noticed. Most of my friends’ parents seemed to have grown some or the other kind of psychiatric issues – depression being the most common of them. But this trip alone, I heard of stories galore of dementia, bipolar disorder and many other such issues. Many of you probably know that both my parents suffer on some of those counts (my mother much more severe than my father). I do not think this set of retirees were ever prepared socially to deal with a life where they do not have much work to keep themselves busy on one hand and on the other hand, have no loved ones around at home.

Those were the thoughts that I was lost in as the car weaved thru increasingly narrower roads. At one point of time after about one and a half hour of drive, we entered a street that literally could not take traffic from both sides. After navigating for about three kilometers in that really narrow street (and me getting more and more worried about how hospitable the old age home location would be), we suddenly came to the gates of “The Peace”.

Once I entered though, it was a completely different scene. It was a lush green property with beautiful flowers all over the place and a few small clean water bodies with seats all around. It was truly a dramatic change. Then I looked at the building. Every balcony had old people sitting outside their rooms staring at me. Suddenly, I became very self conscious. I was wondering whether they were forlorn to see outside people to talk to or were merely wondering what was a funny looking, shaven head guy with a big camera doing in their campus. Or maybe they were just merely enjoying the sun.

Eventually, I found my way to Sanghamitra’s mom’s room. Except she was not there. But soon I found a lady headed my way slowly with the aid of her walker. And that is how I met the lady who I had trekked there for. Over the next hour and a half we talked a lot about her family, her background, my family… the two cardiac arrests she has had, the adjustments she is having to make in her lifestyle – especially around food (she has a lot of restrictions). Without doubt, one of the kindest ladies I have ever met in my life. Given such a large change in lifestyle, she was remarkably jolly and positive in her attitude.

I wish I had a lot more time to just get to know her and her journey in life a little more but it was getting time for me to make the next long trek to the place where all my cousins had gathered and it was also getting past her lunch time. Bid her adieu and slowly walked back wondering “Would I be able to adjust to an old age home ever?”.

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