27 January 2015

Erenga-r “chaayer maasi”

“You see life is not about the destination but the journey. The ultimate destination in life is always death. What is the big hurry reaching there? Let’s slow down and look around and enjoy the journey”, I explained.

I know. That was way too heavy for my ten year old nephew who, fittingly enough, stared at me blankly. (as a Bengali would put it “fyal fyal korey cheye roilo” ๐Ÿ™‚ )

First the context…

You probably recollect from a previous blog that after checking out of Ibiza Merlin resort, instead of heading towards my brother’s place, we decided on the spot to go instead to Kalyani to revisit my parents who were absolutely surprised and delighted. You may also remember that the travel was very tedious. We covered about 60 miles in nearly four hours or so.

As we kept plodding along, my elder nephew was clearly getting impatient (as was my brother, by the way). At some point of time. the nephew had asked enough number of times how long would it take us to reach Kalyani that I was prompted to spout out the philosophical words quoted above.

“What does it even mean?”, he enquired.
“Well, once we reach Kalyani, what are you going to do? Most likely watch TV – right? Will you remember it next year when I come? Or will you remember more if we do something that we normally don’t do?”, I struggled to explain, clearly taken aback by his curiosity to actually understand what I said. (I know, silly nephew ๐Ÿ™‚ ).

“Like what?”, he pressed on.
“Oh! I don’t know. Maybe we should look for some odd looking trees and stop to take pictures. Maybe we should stop by a roadside pond and see who can throw a stone farthest into the water. Maybe we should pick up one of those yellow flowers you see and count how many petals are there in a mustard flower. (The answer is four, btw. I had once stopped and counted). Or may be we should just stop and talk to a stranger and make new friends.”.

“Let’s do that”, he said.
Clearly surprised by the persuasive power of my own words and certainly not prepared for his “You said it. Now let’s do it”, I tried to defer the challenge by a classic stalling tactic – “Which one?”.

I would like to believe he is starting to think like me. But in all likelihood, he just remembered the last of the various examples I gave. “Let’s do the random new friend thing”. “Okay”, I said. Clearly, I was anything but okay. I needed some time to think this one thru. But soon enough, I had an idea. “How about we stop for a tea?”, I asked my brother. He was obviously tired of the traffic and readily agreed but the problem was it was nearly 2 PM. Well past lunch time. Where would we get some tea?

I guess where there is a will, there is a way. Under five minutes, we found a place that would serve tea. The tea stall lady was all by herself in her stall. Which was great – since I could talk to her at length. By this time, my nephew had grown cold feet and was suggesting that we probably should try the next tea stall. “Oh! come one. Let’s get out. If you don’t want to talk – that’s okay. Your job is to take pictures on my phone”. Which he was totally up to. Actually anything digital is like a candy to kids of today!!

And that is how we got to know our “Erenga-r chaayer maasi”. Erenga, we found out from her is the name of the village nearby and where she is from. Google maps showed this village to be a few kilometers due west of Chandannagar. “Chaa” means tea in Bengali (and not so surprisingly, many other languages in the middle east) and “maasi” is an endearing term every Bengali uses to respectfully address a lady (literally means “my mom’s sister”). And this is on Highway 13 – often called Delhi Road – connects Dankuni to Mogra and and is used to bypass the Grand Trunk Road on the west side of the Hooghly river.

We also learnt that seven months back she fulfilled one of her dreams and opened up the tea stall by the highway. She gets up early in the morning to make bread and omelette for breakfast for road side travellers along with tea of course. And then makes “ghugni” in the afternoon for lunch. And she then closes shop around 6 PM.

She also took me and my brother all around the shop showing us her set up. As my nephew kept on taking pictures one after the other. My brother explained to him the physics behind how the large earthen pot kept water cold for summer use. Here is one thing that struck me. Her set up was pretty standard. You can see from the pictures that she smashed coke (coal rocks) by hand and then used them to light up her earthen oven (‘unoon”). She had the standard kettle, glass and so on. But she had something else – the large coffee jar/pot (see pic) – that I had never seen in a roadside tea stall in my entire life. You see them in the restaurants where they fill it up with hot coffee and it stays hot for a long time. You simply pour coffee out of it.

I asked her, why and how did she get that coffee jar/pot. She talked about how many of her customers were getting impatient waiting for her to make fresh tea. To solve that she found out about this jar/pot and got somebody to buy it for her from Kolkata!!! My first thought was “That is pretty entrepreneurial”. My second thought was “Ah! More travelers in a deathly hurry to reach their destination”.

As I said good bye, I told her that we will stop by next time we were on that road. She repeatedly asked us to come during “Joyisththo maas” (around May/June). Evidently, her village is famous for its mangoes and she will keep a few for us!!!

Not sure what the nephew made of the whole experience. But he spent about thirty minutes explaining to my dad and mom in great detail the whole event when we reached Kalyani. And they sat with him listening with rapt attention… They clearly were in no hurry to reach any destination…..

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27 January 2015

Reconnecting after 1976 ….

First of all, I am back to Kolkata airport with good phone and internet connection! Need to start writing my travelogs…. Starting with a phenomenal get together last afternoon. I will tell you how exciting it was. Being an absolute stickler for time (even in Kolkata, I managed to show up for the get together on the dot at 12:30 pm – although I needed all the luck in Kolkata), I had scheduled two hours for this get together. I had figured we would run out of stories from 1973-1976 in that time. Well, we went over our schedule by another couple of hours and even then we were literally kicked out by the janitor who needed to clean the restaurant before his shift got over ๐Ÿ™‚

This one was a great one for me personally. I had these friends I had made in first grade (and one of them in pre-kindergarten) and over the last few years, I had found out their whereabouts and was in touch with them individually. But never managed to meet them (save a few). Finally, as luck would have it, seven of us got together under the same roof!! The last time that happened was literally 39 years back ๐Ÿ™‚

Unfortunately, a few more could not make it (it was Republic Day in India and they had office and school duties). And tellingly, none of the girls made it. As somebody mentioned “Saala, sedino lengi merey gelo, aaj-o lengi merey dilo” ๐Ÿ™‚ For personal safety I am neither going to translate that nor divulge who said it ๐Ÿ™‚ Are you listening, Ajanta, Aditi and Suparna? ๐Ÿ™‚

I always thought I remember incidents from the past more than others. These guys beat me hands down. Specially Mrinal’s ability to remember as well as tell stories was mind blowing. Ah! those stories of gulmohar tree and Atish’s coveted tiffin of “lobongolotika”s !!!

Since Facebook is awash with pictures of people reconnecting with their old school friends over lunch or dinner at fancy restaurants, we figured we should instead, stay close to our roots. We re-enacted what might have been if we all stayed together and studied in the same college together. We gathered on the street and the ones who smoke bought cigarettes from the street guy and lit them up. We, the non-smokers, did some secondary smoking and mostly talked and laughed above the din of the honking and screeching of Kolkata traffic ๐Ÿ™‚ [To be sure, we also ate lunch together in a fancy restaurant but that is not what bonded us ๐Ÿ™‚ ]

Atish, Arghya, Sanjay, Soumen, Sujit, you have to make it to the next Kolkata get together!! And for the ones who did make it…. I was barely six years old when I took a few steps of my life together with you (and I was four years when I did the same with Arindam Dasgupta) and I was able to do the same yesterday again. It is a great life I lead and thanks for making it so….It was absolutely marvelous to see those red-shorts-white-shirt tiny tots have succeeded so much in their lives!!!

We will meet again… As the old shayar goes…

“Musafir hain hum bhi, musafir ho tum bhi
Kisi mod pe phir mulaqat hogi… ” !!

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19 January 2015

And yet another intersection point!!

Do you remember how at Bombay airport, a couple of years back, while waiting in the Business Lounge with my family, I had mentioned to Sharmila that the gentleman sitting at the other corner of the lounge poring over his laptop might have crossed my path some twenty five years back? And then how I had simply walked up to him and called out his name to see if he would look up? It was indeed him!

Well, a similar thing happened today while waiting in the Business Lounge of Dubai airport. I was very sleepy and still waiting for my flight to Kolkata (which subsequently was delayed). I was trying to keep myself awake by calling up friends from early school days to see if I could create some intersection points during my India visit.

Just as I started talking to a friend of mine from first grade, I thought I saw a gentleman briskly walking by while talking on the phone. I had a vague feeling that he might be the same guy that I had worked with about fifteen or so years back. When I say “worked with”, I mean we were in the same company – I was in Dallas, he was in Bangalore and we had met a few times during company events.

I decided to take my chances (at worst my risk was that I would get a strange glare from a stranger). After excusing myself rudely from my friend on the phone and promising to call him back very soon, I walked up and called out “Sankalp?”. Sure enough, it was him!! Good news is that he recognized me immediately!

It was great! I had not kept up with Sankalp in a long time. I was aware that he had started his own company in the early 2000s (which is when I probably saw him last). Had I not met him today, I would have had no idea what a great success that company has been.

Both of us had about twenty minutes (this was before I learnt that my flight had been delayed) and we made the most of it. Catching up on business, the challenges of taking a company public, our old friends from work, families and so on. The worst part – and this is probably starting to show we are growing old – was getting to know the unfortunate passing away of a couple of our old colleagues.

It was absolutely fascinating to run into Sankalp when I was least expecting him. He always was and continues to be the role model for a lot of entrepreneurs.

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13 January 2015

That million dollar question!!!

Do you remember how I often try to break ice with the waiters/waitresses in a restaurant by responding to their perfunctory “Can I get you something else?” with a “Sure. A million dollars would help”? You probably also remember how that resulted in some hilarious responses (the waitress who said “Sure, it will cost you two”) and some inspiring conversations (the waiter who wants to start his own pizza place outside Milwaukee)?

Well, last night was one more memorable one.

The young lady had laid down dinner for me and my teammate and asked the usual question. I gave my usual response and waited to see her reaction.

She looked at all the numbers and figures my teammate and I had jotted down on a few pieces of paper strewn all over the table for the last fifteen minutes and then looked at me and said “A million dollars? Business that bad, huh?”.

I was like – Awesome!!! That is total sass!!

I laughed out aloud and let her know that I have a ten year old daughter at home who she reminded me of ๐Ÿ™‚

28 December 2014

Meeting some of the young and bright ones

While in Dallas, I was able to catch up with some of the youngsters from Indian Institutes of Management who had joined our company at the turn of the century (that makes it sound so long back, does it not? ๐Ÿ™‚ ). In any case, many were traveling and many are not in Dallas any more. But it was great to catch up with Mohit, GV, Kapil and Ajay. Looks like I missed Dilesh and Ashish by a day. Abhay was in India… It was absolutely heartwarming to see how incredibly successful professionally and personally each one of them have become.

While catching up on the personal side, a really funny exchange took place with Mohit..

Me: “Where do you live Mohit?”
Mohit: “Wynnpage. In Coppell”

Since I lived in Coppell for 9 years, I pressed on to find out the exact location. I had a vague recollection that I had seen Wynnpage before. After a few minutes of apparent struggle, I asked him to start giving me directions from an intersection both of us knew. I still took another few minutes to figure out what was happening. I had completely messed up my North with my South. Once that was cleared, it was very easy…

Me: “Oh! Wynnpage!! Now I know! You are right next to
Mohit: “Yes”
Me: “That is silly of me. There is a friend of mine who lives there. I have visited him in Wynnpage too!! Do you know a guy called Manjit Sohal?”
Mohit [totally taken aback]: “How do you know Manjit?”
Me: “Long story. We used to work in our first jobs together in Bombay. And also, he met his wife thru my wife – when both of them were studying in UT Arlington”.
Mohit: “That is crazy. In any case, he actually lives in Plano now”.
Me: “He does? Man, I still talk to him on his birthdays. I always thought I was calling him in Coppell”.

And then something struck me.
Me: “But then, how do you know him if lives in Plano?”
Mohit: “Because I bought his house in Wynnpage when he moved to Plano!!!!”

And I was like – Aha! There had to be an intersection somewhere!!!! ๐Ÿ™‚

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18 December 2014

You never know who you will run into in the airport

For the second time in as many days, I found myself standing in the Atlanta airport security line. It was early in the morning and I was generally taking it easy. In fact, I was observing the distinctly German looking gentleman in front of me struggling to get all his stuff into the conveyor belt for screening at the TSA Precheck line. Every five seconds, he would remember he had one more thing in his pocket and he would hurriedly pull it out, and put it in one of his bags. Finally he was done; and as I was just starting to swing my shoulder bag onto the belt when I heard somebody call out “Is that Rajib”?

“It sure is”, I said as I looked at the general direction of the voice. Turns out it was the gentleman right behind me. He was standing there all the time as I was observing the gentleman in the front. And that is how my otherwise slow morning got to a very fast start. It is not often that I meet Chuck Townsley – an old buddy of mine. In fact, we have not met ever since he left our company – more than ten years back.

I was so excited that I started talking to him then and there; after a few minutes, the TSA guy reminded me that our bags have cleared and we had to be screened too!!

Both of us had about fifteen minutes at hand. So we grabbed a chair nearby and caught up on each other’s lives. It was fascinating to hear about his career success. Especially how he has worked his way up into IBM Sales.

On the professional side, I have always admired IBM’s ability to grow a formidable sales org – not just by talent but dealing with complexity of overlay sales orgs and highly nuanced compensation models. In fact, Chuck and I talked about sales compensation plans for quite some time.

Eventually, it was time to go. We got somebody to take a picture of us and I walked him to the train station in the airport. Just as I was leaving him there, he stopped me and said he wanted to mention something. I was naturally curious.

He narrated a story of an event that happened when he was leaving the company where we worked together. And he said “Thank you for making that happen”.

Frankly, I had forgotten about the incident. But I was struck with his sense of gratitude and generosity. All these years, and he still remembers it. And then I realized, this is Chuck we are talking about. He has not changed a bit!!!

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12 December 2014

I have never been this humbled before

[If you happen to be a reader who is of the feminine gender, you may be able to help this young soul]

Everything this morning was going like most other days. Early morning. Marriott hotel (in Durham today). Business meeting over breakfast. Settled down at a table in the far corner. Lady came and asked us what we wanted. I said oatmeal. The gentleman I was meeting perused the menu. To give him some time, I looked up to the lady, saw her badge – it had her name and mentioned โ€œWashington DCโ€ under it. Being somewhat familiar with that place I asked her โ€œWhich part of DC are you from?โ€.

Everything was going according to the script so far. Then she dropped the bombshell. She softly replied โ€œI really do not know. I grew up in foster care systemโ€! I was incredulous. How can one not know where one is from?

I persisted: โ€œWhat do you mean you do not know where you are from?โ€
She: “I grew up in over 100 homes in DC and Durham area. I am not sure how to answer where I am fromโ€
Me (turning to my business guest): โ€œDo you mind if I take a couple of minutes?โ€. He readily agreed.
I asked her: โ€œHow old are you?โ€
She: โ€œ21โ€
Me: โ€œHow long do you work in a day?โ€
She: โ€œAll my waking hoursโ€
Me: โ€œHow many jobs?โ€
She: โ€œ3โ€
Me: โ€œWhere are your parents? Wait donโ€™t tell me. Would you mind if I spent ten minutes of your time after my breakfast with you to learn your life history? Should I talk to your manager? I know this is your work timeโ€.
She assured me it would not be a problem.

And that was that. For the time being.

The business meeting grew more promising by the minute. What was to be a 45 minute meeting bled well over an hour and a half. Finally we shook hands and I walked him out of the restaurant area. As I turned back, I realized that the whole place was cleaned out. Nobody was around. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Hurriedly, I walked towards the door of the hotel and asked the usherer โ€œWould you know if Imani is still working here?โ€ (BTW, I had memorized that Imani was her name before I noticed she was โ€œfromโ€ Washington DC). He was such a nice guy that he said โ€œI do not know. But let me find out.โ€ Saying so, he went inside the kitchen and came out with Imani!

I was really, really relieved. We sat down in one of the numerous empty tables and I told her โ€œTell me your life storyโ€.

There was this girl who was born to a dad who spent most his life in jail. She could not remember if she ever had seen her. Her mom became a drug addict. The state agencies came along and to protect her and her two siblings, pulled them away from their mom at a very young age and put them in the foster care system. The foster care system is where parents take care of kids and get paid by the state to do so. The system made sure that the siblings never got separated. The DC system was fine.

Then they were moved to Durham. She did not cast a very positive picture on the foster care system there. Some of the stories of what she and her siblings had to undergo is too sordid for me to write here. Being a softie, there are words I cannot get myself to utter. Being a dad of two daughters, I could not help myself shudder. Let me put it this way – think of the worst abuse a lady – especially young, can go thru – and she had to go thru all of them. As she kept moving from houses to houses.

โ€œWhy did you not report to the authorities? or the cops?โ€, I asked.
โ€œSir, we did. The authorities (not cops, foster agencies) came. They would ask us to go to a room and then talk to the foster parents. I can only imagine what happened thereโ€.
โ€œWhy did you not let your foster mom know this?โ€.
โ€œWe did, sirโ€.
โ€œWhy not the cops?โ€.
โ€œToday, I would do it. Then, none of us knew how to access cops we could trustโ€.

After that, every couple of minutes, I would interrupt her โ€œSorry, can you repeat what you just said?โ€. I had my daughtersโ€™ faces floating in front of me all the time and I was totally distracted and angry.

โ€œThen what?โ€, I asked.
Her first break came when she managed to get a kinship program.
โ€œWhat is a kinship program?โ€, I asked.
โ€œThat is when in school, one of your friendโ€™s parents decide to take you in. The advantage is that they donโ€™t abuse you – obviously, they are loving parents of their daughter who is aroundโ€.
Fortunately for her, the mom of her best friend in high school decided to take her in.

From there, her grades flourished. Straight A student.

After high school, she put herself thru a technology school (one of those training institutes) by working the rest of the time. But at the end, she realized that there were not too many technology jobs for people at her level.

โ€œSo, from here, where do you go?โ€
โ€œI want to go to business school. So, I am working three jobs to pay off my debt – from the technology school – and then save for a business degreeโ€.

I let her know that if what everything she told me was how life happened to her – and I have no reason to disbelieve her – first, I was sorry that she got a tough deck of cards but also that I had never come across anybody who knew how to take life by its horns and come up triumphant. I had no doubt, she would succeed.

As I prepared to leave, I suddenly realized that she had opened up to a total stranger in spite of a lot of abuse by men. So, I sat her down again and showed her my website. I told her I write about people I meet on the road. I showed her the picture of the Delta lady and mentioned – sometimes, my friends are able to help the people I write about. I asked her if it would be okay for me to take a picture of her and write the story on my blog.

She thought for a second and said – โ€œOn two conditionsโ€
โ€œI am listeningโ€
โ€œTalk only about the positive things. In spite of everything, sir, I am still smiling. That is important to me.โ€
I felt a lump in my throat. โ€œOkโ€, is all I could manage.
โ€œAnd the other one, sir, I do not want anybody elseโ€™s money or help in getting better jobs. If some of your friends could mentor me, that is the best help I can get. That is the thing I cannot solve for myself.โ€
I really wanted to give her a hug. โ€œListen, I am blessed with some of the best human beings as my friends. I guarantee you many will jump at the opportunity to mentor youโ€.

We got somebody to take a picture of us. I was so overwhelmed that I did not even check the picture to see that it deserved a retake – till I was sitting in the plane.

And thus we partedโ€ฆ.

As I listlessly walked away dragging the suitcase to my rental car, only one thought went through my mindโ€ฆ. I have been so privileged in my life. I have two daughters. I got a great deck of cards from life. Wonderful parents, wonderful wife, best folks in the world I call โ€œfriendsโ€, great teachersโ€ฆ they have all pushed and pulled me to a position where I have been able to provide my daughters (so far) a privileged life. What should I do for them (and myself) to realize how privileged we are?

So, that was my morning story. Any of you – especially those of the feminine gender – if you are willing to mentor (by phone and email) a 21 year young lady who has not seen the brightest days in her life but is determined to change that, please send me a personal message. I will pass on her email id and phone number to her. You can talk to her and see if you can give her some guidance. Just tell her โ€œI am a friend of that weird Indian guy you sat down to talk on Thursday morningโ€.

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22 November 2014

How a music major taught me to write code

This goes back to mid seventies. There was this young guy majoring in music in college. Rick Roberts happened to be his name and French pipe happened to be the instrument. The young guy was smart and talented enough to rise to be a band director. His dreams came crashing quickly when he talked to somebody in his line with a lot more experience who dissuaded him from this line given the lack of career opportunities.

Not knowing any better, he followed his brother’s advice. Talked SMU into letting him in to a one-year MBA program. (this is late seventies; there were no pre-reqs for college admissions). Post that, he scored a job in the marketing department of one of the biggest employers in the Dallas area. His job was to go thru the foot-high reams of computer output to analyze data.

Remember, these were the days of long computer sheets and two layers of carbon paper for copy. Invariably he came home with arms filled with carbon paper ink. He decided that was not what he wanted to do. But, he also reasoned, since those were the printouts from a computer, obviosuly the data was sitting in a computer somewhere. All he needed was access to that computer and figure out how to get the computer to do his work for him.

Except that it was against the policy in this company for marketing folks to get access to the computers. Eventually, he convinced somebody in the data center to give him his user id and password (now you know why I am not mentioning the companyโ€™s name ๐Ÿ™‚ ). With some effort and time, he learnt the programming language and how to get the computer to compile the analysis for him instead of doing it manually. With one caveat. He had to do it on the sly. Which meant, he would do it during night. He would go to office during the day, twiddle his thumbs for some time and then walk up to the boss and show the results. His boss (who had no idea of this) would never believe his output and then used to be astounded by its accuracy!!

Many years later, access to computer was relaxed and that he is when he got into serious programming. He was adept enough in programming that the top computer science recruiter of Dallas area then – Texas Instruments hired him. There was a super programmer called Lamott Oren in TI. Rickโ€™s job was to understand and learn the code that Lamott wrote. As Rick put it – Lamott would come one afternoon, spit out a bunch of Lisp code and then Rick would take the whole week to understand it!! In a complete twist of fate, many years later, that LaMott, Rick and myself worked together in the same team in a different company!!!

It was in that company – i2 that I got the honor of working side by side with Rick. The product he oversaw – Factory Planner – is without any doubt, the most successful supply chain product that I have ever seen. It became the flagship product for i2. His push for simplicity and eye for what makes a product succeed was beyond any comparison.

Fast forward a little later. I had long left i2. Rickโ€™s position was eventually eliminated in those days of mass outsourcing and he was let gone. Disappointed that his role was eliminated, that day, when he came home, he went for a walk on the Main Street. There happened to be a guy playing an Irish flute. He stood there and listened to him. On a whim, he bought a flute from him for $3.

Then he practised like heck at home. An elderly gentleman suddenly practicing Irish flute in the kitchen for hours together can be intense for any family!! It was intesne enough that his twenty year old daughter decided to move out from home ๐Ÿ™‚ Luckily, his wife, as he put it, decided to weather it all. Now, he is so good at it that he is often an invited and featured artist at events around the metroplex.

After many many years, Rick Roberts and I met up at an Irish bar over some beer, fish and chips. It was absolutely unbelievable getting in touch with somebody who I learnt so much from in my early stages of professional life.

It was really good to be with a really good guy again!!!

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21 November 2014

Angie’s list!!

Last time I called up Angie to wish her a happy birthday, she mentioned that I was prominent in her list of people she wanted to meet from her past. I had figured that next time I was in Dallas, I had to find some time to catch up with her.

That day came yesterday. Among other things, she led our recruitment – especially executive recruitment. She was one of the rare recruiters who truly impressed me – and taught me how to look for the core elements of what makes a great professional or executive (and not the stuff that is written on the resumes).

I was aware she had gone thru some tough times in her personal life and also that she had beaten back all of them and thru the process had reinvented herself. It was inspiring and educational last night to hear the full story of how she took a tough challenge in life and emerged a better person.

As always, we also caught up about our old friends from i2. Looked like she had more updates than I did – and I do not face that too often ๐Ÿ™‚

I had another reason I wanted to see her. Remember that lady – Thomasine – at the DCA airport? After hearing her story three of my friends – Jenny, Raghu and Angie had stepped forward to help her. In fact, Angie had already set up calls with her and spread the word around to 600 folks in her network.

I had to see such a gracious person and learn from her.

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