I went to a residential (boarding) school for my junior and senior years in high school. It was a very academically oriented school with strict discipline around study hours and not leaving campus without permission and all that. This being the first time I stayed away from home, it did not take much time for me to be homesick. A big driver for that was the food in our hostels. There is a reason the common term to refer to the canteen or food hall in hostels in India is “Mess”. This school’s food would make any airline food look like a nine course formal dinner, by comparison.

The inevitable result was that anytime there was a long weekend or breaks in between semesters, all of us would hightail it to home to spend the days with our parents and legitimate food. After school got over at 3, we would run back to our hostels, grab our suitcases and briskly walk to the campus gate to catch a bus – and for many of us – a train to go home.

All of us – except that one guy. Shashwata Roy Burman was his name. I remember every time I would be running out of the hostel with my suitcase, I would see him coming back from the mess with the evening food in his hand. Once I had asked him why did he never go home and instead stayed by himself in the hostel. It is then that I had learnt that he actually was nowhere from near the school. (We were all from within 100 miles of the school). In fact, he came from another state and the only way to get there would be to fly. I suspect train might have been possible but it would have probably taken three to four days to reach because of the geography. While the aerial distance was long by itself, the map of Bangladesh made it even more difficult since he would have to basically go around that whole country!! And of course flying those days was very expensive.

I remember feeling bad every time I saw him when I headed home. I had even offered him to come and stay at our house. But he always politely declined and in all the excitement of going back home, I would forget about it soon.

After two years, we went on our own ways and never saw each other again. That was March 1985. Once in a while I used to wonder whatever happened to that guy from Agartala. He was very good in Math and Physics. Had a dense lock of unkempt hair and stubbles all over his face.

Got the answer today!!! Nearly thirty years later, I saw him again this morning.

Recently, I had found out that he lived in Orlando and has been this close to me for a long time without me ever realizing. Just a few months back, I was in Orlando with my family! I had not the faintest idea that I was so close to him!!

Once I was able to pin him down on a world map, then came the wait to see when would I be making a personal or business trip to his city. Well, this week was the “when”. While I was not in Orlando, I had work for three days in St. Petersburg. Close enough, if you ask me. At the crack of dawn, right after 5:30AM, I set out in my rental car and about a couple of hours later was ringing his door bell!

I had offered that I take his wife and him out for breakfast. He would have nothing of it. He cooked breakfast for me. First, over outstanding tea that Sudeshna (his wife) had made and then over breakfast, we caught up about our old friends, our parents, his career moves and so on. He looked as boyish as ever and I would have never guessed that he had a fourteen year old son if he had not told me so.

If you ever are curious about how fate can play its cards in mysterious ways, you will love this. As we tried to figure what was going on with each other’s families year by year, at one point it became too weird.

Me: “So, where all have you lived in US?”
He: “First Naples, then Fort Lauderdale and then Orlando”
Me: “Where in Fort Lauderdale? We used to live around that area too”
He: “A small place called Coral Springs”
Me: “Get out! That is where we lived too. Where in Coral Springs?”
He: “Near University Blvd”
Me: “That is a long road. What was the crossroad?”
He: “Atlantic Blvd”
Me: “Are you talking about Laurel Gardens”?
He: “Yes! You knew somebody there?”
Me: “You gotta be kidding me. Which apartment?”
He: “What do you mean, which apartment?”.
Me: “Describe to me from the mall-side gate – how would you reach your apartment”

I could not make this up, even if I wanted to! As incredible as it sounds. that same guy I lost thirty years back and reconnected today and I lived in the SAME apartment building – separated by a few doors – and of course, a few years!!! Wow!!!

It was just an outstanding experience in my life spending some time with Shashwata and Sudeshna. I got so engrossed in our discussions that I forgot he had to get onto a conference call at 9 AM. As he excused himself, I also let them know that I needed to leave to get back to work. He went upstairs for his call. Sudeshna and I hung back for a few more minutes finishing our second round of tea. As we started wrapping up, I could see Shashwata at the top of the staircase with his phone on mute. I was ready to leave. He desperately wanted to join us as I was leaving, but once again he was stuck with life’s constraints.

I had strong flashbacks of that guy who would watch us from the second floor staircase of our hostel as one by one we left for our homes.

Thirty years! And like nothing has changed!!!

“I am surprised by your accent”, he said!
“Well, twenty two years of living here will do it”, I replied.
“No, I mean you have not changed your accent, at all!!”, he quickly added!
“Good! It helps in my stand up comedy routine”!!, was my comeback!

And that was the first exchange I had after we finished our hug. This gentleman had cleared out his calendar for the day so that he could drive for a few hours to get near the airport where I was landing. I had offered to drive out and see him in his town but he would have nothing of it.

And that is how I saw Manoj Rewatkar – after a good twenty two years or so. We worked together in Mumbai in my first job ever. We were part of the same project team and he certainly was the venerable UNIX guy. Coming from a renowned educational institute like IIT (Kanpur), he was, without an iota of doubt, one of the sharpest developers. I still remember the day that somehow, I sneaked into a team of three (along with him and Arpan Dinker – another sharp developer) – where we were asked to write three tools that would make all the developers in the team more productive. I think Manoj wrote one to automate regression testing (capbak?), I wrote one to cut down lines to be coded (macroprocessor?) and Arpan wrote on to speed up execution (shared memory?).

Life certainly has changed a lot from those days. But a few things about Manoj have remained the same. While he is a very successful entrepreneur and owns three businesses now, you would not realize it in the way he carries himself. Modest to a fault, he is one of the most ardent listeners and has a level of intellectual curiosity that never has stopped him from being open to new learnings. (In short, everything I want to be someday when I grow up to be as successful as he).

Our discussions for the evening were decidedly non-technical. It was mostly about perspectives on life. Sitting by the Potomac in Old Town, Alexandria in that cool evening as I picked up my bourbon and he, his red wine, I settled down comfortably to catch up on each other’s life. At one point, I was so intensely into the conversation that I did what I often do when I am concentrating – I opened up my shoes, then my socks, put the socks in the next chair (do not ask me why) and pulled up my legs and sat criss-cross-apple-sauce in the chair.

Manoj evidently has followed a lot of my thoughts on my blogs. He has given a lot of thought to those thoughts and that is what made the exchange so absorbing. On my concept of retirement (“take a year off, join back into a job, work for five years and then take another year off and continue the cycle”), he offered a little more nuanced perspective. He talked about his concept of “continuous retirement”. He first asked himself “What would I love doing even if I was retired today?”. He figured, that is what he is very passionate about. And that is what he started doing. Eventually, started his own business after having a great corporate job because he realized that corporate constraints were taking him away from his passions.

As he put it, the business has grown in leaps and bounds not because he was trying to build it big – he was just very passionate about what he did, attracted people to the company who think exactly the same way and that made them the best in the niche that they play in and then money started flowing in. In the meanwhile he and the employees have all the flexibility to take time off and do whatever they want whenever they want. Except that they are so passionate about what they do, they find themselves doing it even when they are not needed to. Also, why he has never taken any debt or capital to grow the company.

He is a true example of somebody who has reached the point where their job or business is not work really. That is what he wants to do in life – paid or otherwise. And anybody who is cynic about the approach whether one can make a living out of it should certainly visit his company someday in Richmond, VA. From his point of view, he has been retired for quite some time now.

With the flexibility of the mind thinking that he is in retirement, he has been able to expand his horizons into many other physical and mental activities. He has taken up the hobby of climbing after getting involved in a charity event to raise money by climbing. By the way, after hearing the stories of adrenaline rush and mind blowing scenes you get to see, I am thinking of putting this in my bucket list!

I mentioned to him how inspired I was by his story, his life and his attitude.
“No, I have to thank you”, he said.
“How so?”, I enquired, genuinely confused.

And that is when he reminded me how in our first job, while everybody worked very hard and long hours, I would make it a point to get my day’s job done and without fail, leave by the 5:40PM bus. He reminded me that I was new to the city and did not have many friends outside work. So, he had evidently asked me once “What do you do after you go back to the apartment?”. He recollected that I told him that I would go back, listen to music for an hour or so, and then write letters to all my friends and relatives.

It all started coming back to me. It is true that I was a stickler for time and discipline then. I would show up on time and leave on time. I would go back and listen to Ghulam Ali for about an hour, play tabla for some time and then write letters. In those days when there was no email and FB, I used to write letters. Lots of them. Like a dozen a day. With calligraphic pens. On printed stationery. And then have my dinner with the rest of my friends after they returned by the later buses. Finally, I would go for a walk diligently before I went to bed.

Then I realized – that is who I am now!! And Manoj nodded like the wise man to the young whippersnapper as if saying “Yep, Rajib! This is who you always have been. You just lost yourself for a few years in the corporate life. But you are back!”

This was supposed to be my catching up with an old friend time. Instead, it turned out to be one where I came back feeling incredibly good about myself. And I guess, that is what friends are for. Probably human beings are for. It is about making each other feel great about who they are… regardless of who they are…

After a sincere bout of thanks and a hug and a promise to keep in touch, we left – evidently feeling great about the whole meeting. So much so, that I completely forgot to pick up my socks before I left!!!! I had simply slipped on my shoes and started walking!!!

Last night, Sharmila and I went out with a local Bengali couple – Soumya and Tumpa – for a couple of drinks. Not exactly being the party animal myself, I rarely get to see the local Bengali families other than occasions like Durga Puja and such. And my guess is that I have seen Soumya and Tumpa exactly twice every year – during Durga Puja and during Saraswati Puja and exchanged pleasantries. This Puja, we had agreed to meet up some time and go out.

It was a great evening. Unfortunately, I do not have any picture to post – which is a break away from tradition 🙂 Anyways, during our conversation, as is my wont, I was able to establish a very unique intersection point. Let me see if I can reconstruct the threads.

Thread 1:  Nearly seven to eight decades back when the British broke up India by religious lines before they left, there was a huge upheaval of violence between the two primary religions in that area: India, Pakistan and East Pakistan – which eventually became independent and is now known as Bangladesh. There were innumerable families that lost their homes and were uprooted from their country and had to take shelter in another country. I count many of their descendants as my friends and family today.

In any case, one such family moved from Jessore in Bangladesh and eventually settled in Bahrampur in West Bengal (India). Many years later, the lady of the house and her son – who was probably about 10-15 years old then – got into some legal dispute with the tenants in their house. That young son was none other than Soumya’s dad. Anyways, to seek legal help, they went to a well known lawyer in that town. The mom-son duo approached this aforementioned lawyer gentleman in his residence to seek help. This was circa 1950.

In a complete aside, the same lawyer had a nephew (younger brother’s son) who also lived in the same house. Now, hang on to that nephew for a second as I finish up the second thread.

Thread 2. As you know I grew up in a small sleepy town called Durgapur during my early childhood. Incidentally, there is a Mr. Ashoke Dubey from Durgapur who always takes me to task for calling Durgapur “sleepy” 🙂 In any case, his daughter – Aditi and I were classmates from very very early age and we have remained great friends till this day. And her dad – Mr. Dubey – was my local hero. He was one gentleman that I could always rely on to give me some unbiased advice. He was one of the top executives in Durgapur, but he would always find time for me if I needed to discuss something with him – even after I had long left Durgapur. Till this day, I try to meet him once a year when he comes to US or when I go to India.

Last night, after Soumya started talking about Gorabazar area in Bahrampur, something told me that we might have an intersection point here. A few calls to India and Soumya this morning later, it was established that Mr. Dubey is that same little nephew from the first thread!!!!!!

And get this – in 1985, Aditi, myself and a few of our common friends had gone to visit Mr. Dubey’s original home for a couple of days. YEP! It was the same house that Soumya’s grandma had gone to in 1950!!!

Who knew that I will be having drinks with somebody in 2014 whose grandma and I were at the same spot – separated by 35 years!! And we would find that out another 30 years later??

Serendipity!!!

Started the mini vacation with family. Headed towards Chicago. The best part of the vacation might have just happened – even before we could get into the plane. Thanks to Facebook, Sharmila found out that one of her best friends from early childhood days was on her way back from Florida to Dubai today. Also realized that she was routed thru Atlanta airport – although at a very different time than our flight.

A few Facebook messages, frantic calls and a lot of effort from Rupa (Sharmila’s friend) to convince Delta to let her get onto an earlier flight, we were able to reach the gate for her flight just as the plane pulled into the gate. For a couple of hours thereafter, it was absolute bliss with laughter and old stories of when she had visited us long back in Florida and Dallas and when we had visited her in Hong Kong and Dubai. You could have easily spotted us as the boisterous crowd in the Atlanta Hawks bar in Terminal A.

Sometimes, serendipity can be marvelous!! That was the best impromptu gathering ever!!!

A really long week. Have not felt this drained on a Friday morning in some time. Now on a coast to coast flight back…

Of course, this week’s travels had its own upsides… Meeting old friends that I had not seen in a long time as well as making new ones. And finding weird and funny road signs, restroom doors and so on 🙂

Speaking of new friends, one of the best places to make friends is at the hotel bar. But most of the time, instead of making friends with people in the bar, I somehow make friends with the bartender. It almost always starts by exchanging notes on interesting cocktails. And I always pick up a few more new recipes every time…

This week, I learnt a few from Joel Yacoby. He was at the Den in Portland. It was absolutely delightful spending time with this hard working young gentleman.

Learnt a very interesting drink from him – what he calls “Fiery Balls”!! And in the discussion of the “weirdest vodkas we have ever seen”, my bottle of Sriracha vodka (yes, there is a thing) won 🙂