Don’t laugh now!

My love for programming has an origin in boredom rather than any computational skills. Certainly, studying computer science introduced me to the art of converting a mathematical formula into all caps FORTRAN. Somehow, though, punching cards and putting it in a queue for the card reader to read overnight was vaguely pointless to me.

It was one of the summer vacations that I got bored at home in the second week and went to Kolkata to find a summer job with a computer company (Artintel). That is when I realized I loved programming. The act of writing voluminous pages of code in a garrulous language called COBOL was not the point. Watching the computer spit out something that people were actually using (these were simple programs to control inventories, payroll etc) was somehow very rewarding though. Plus we had the only air-conditioned room in the whole company. This was in the middle of the heat of summer in sultry Kolkata, mind you!

As my computer science degree progressed, I realized my brainpower was not cut out for research or all the sophisticated computer stuff that my classmates like Madhav Marathe would do in their sleep. Did I mention that there were a lot of Greek alphabets in those courses?

Not wanting to do research meant I had no interest in the USA. (Irony, huh?). But I liked the MBA courses. There was something about Organization Behavior and Managerial Oral Communication that left a deep impression on me. Yet, coding is what I really liked. I remember being part of a team (with Raj Subramaniam, Rupa Batra, G Ramesh et. al.) which did a fairly impressive project in building a computer system to manage railway traffic. Admittedly, my team mates did most of the hard work. But I got to use my color pencils to draw project charts!! (I still have a picture of that project plan on my dorm room wall).

When most of the folks from MBA progressed to Finance and Marketing jobs – where they could actually use all the lessons learnt in MBA, I went back to coding. My first project – CPC – was a life changing experience. Met two of my best bosses – Nitin Chandekar and Raj Sundaramurthy – and an incredible set of team members. My coding was probably not what I was remembered for – but that color pencil pie chart showing how much time we were wasting waiting for the compiler to finish is still something that my two first bosses talk about.

While I came to the USA to code, somewhere, somebody finally realized that I was not that good at coding after all, and put me in a management track. To fulfill my own Peter’s principle and rise to my level of incompetency.

I have not coded for over 20 years now.

Lately, after stopping my posts being cross posted to Facebook, I have focused some attention to my blog site. I started bugging my friend Larry Mason often to ask how to change parts of my site that I did not like the appearance of. Color pencils, sadly, did not work.

Eventually, I realized that maybe I should learn another new skill at the age of 54. Actually re-learn. I figured I am going to learn PHP and CSS to do simple tricks with my website. Larry was kind enough to point me to the source (w3schools).

Sat down to learn it and I realized that I have to start from “deep defense”, as it were. So, had to learn HTML first (about 20 years after the rest of the world picked it up!!).

So, here I am, totally excited after finishing the HTML course and sitting down to figure out how to do CSS coding. I am almost at a point where I can do what I could do with color pencils anyways.

You may laugh now!

While I started this blog back in 2005 – the second time I took a year off between jobs – I never tracked the readership till about ten years later. Towards the end of 2014, I started tracking the unique countries that I was getting reader from. As you can see, it started straightaway with about 40 countries (to be sure, these readers were already coming; I merely started counting from that date). It doubled very quickly from there and ever since has been approaching one of those asymptotic curves. I think it was a couple of months back that I got the last unique – 141st – country.

Still over 50 to go!!

This is really a very hard year for students graduating from college. I should know. I have one at home. To go thru four years of college and not be able to say Good Bye face to face to some of the great relationships you made in campus is gut wrenching. To be thrown out of a college into a job life where nobody is hiring – worse, you will compete for jobs with more experienced people – and most likely next year two batches of students will vie for the same jobs – well, that was not how the movie was supposed to have been written.

Yet, this too shall pass. There is not an iota of a chance that the message of this being ephemeral will land with any graduate. No more than when I told by daughters’ friends once they landed in great colleges to defer their admission, take a year off and backpack thru Europe or South America.

It is very hard for them to understand the perspective of elders. As is it for elders to understand theirs.

Thee following message was sent to me by my dear friend Larry Mason – the same guy who had sent me the “I wish you enough” message first. This time he sent me a Youtube video. I am not sure of the source – it is from 1997, apparently. I have attached the artist’s name as given in Youtube.

The message is equally great for graduates and their parents. Although, chances are that the parents will understand it more.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the class of 97,

Wear sunscreen!

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proven by scientists. Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis, no more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Well, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me. In 20 years, you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are NOT as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future. Or worry at all. But know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind… the kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don’t waste your time on jealousy: sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind. The race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives… some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they are gone.

Maybe you will marry. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you will have children. Maybe you won’t. Maybe you will divorce at 40. Maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.

Whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chances; so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it. It is the greatest instrument you will ever own.

Dance.

Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room. Read the directions even if you do not follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel UGLY.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they will be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings…. They are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but the precious few, you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle. Because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths. Prices will rise. Politicians will philander, you too will get old. And when you do, you will fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you’ll have a wealthy spouse… but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you’re 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it is worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.”

(Artist: Baz Luhrmann)

I was talking to Harsh on his birthday a few days back and he asked me about the not cross posting to Facebook bit. (I stopped a month back). We were discussing his favorite way of knowing about updates – you know, like RSS feed (if you use a news reader), simply email notification etc etc. Harsh felt that , personally, for him, it would be good to have an option of getting email updates.

I promised him that I will set it up. So, in spite of originally being against the idea (I am just worried of too many emails in others’ boxes), last night I have set it up. I am still playing with it – and you might find some changes here and there as I refine it.

But if you want to get weekly updates on the blogs from prior week, sometime between Friday evening and Saturday morning, depending on where you live in the world, you will get a blog digest. You should be able to read the first paragraph of each blog from the week and if it piques your interest, simply click on it – for the full content and picture.

By making it weekly, I am hoping to strike the right balance between too many emails in your inbox and freshness of the topics that I write on.

If you wish to subscribe, you can go to the website www.rajibroy.com and notice the subscription option on the right below the yellow box of “Topics”. Put in your name and email id. You will get a confirmation email that you need to confirm with.

Ishita and Ram, I know you were trying other methods. In case this helps, I am bringing this to your attention.

First thank you to all of you who voiced their opinions. Certainly, overwhelmed by the votes to keep the crossposting on. After thinking about it for quite some time, I have decided to go with Parijat’s suggestion – which is basically – “try it for some time”. I think that is invaluable advice. If we do not experiment in life, how will we ever know what we are capable of? Or for that matter learn about our limitations?

I will stop crossposting for sometime and see how the experiment works out.

So that you do not completely forget me (try as you might), I am going to put up a weekly digest every weekend on Facebook to give you an idea about what all blogs I have posted that week. If any of that piques your interest, feel free to go to the website and read it up.

I have enhanced the comments section (you do not need to put in your email or URL any more – you can put in your name but it is optional) as well as put in a Like button if you want to get a Facebook-like experience. (It toggles just like in Facebook). Looks like some of you already used it last night.

I am not putting in any email subscriber functionality that is going to notify you when there is a post. I figured that would be a nuisance to your inbox.

Before I forget, my blog – which is mostly an anthology of snippets of inconsequential moments of my life – called “History of my Future. First Draft!” can be found at rajibroy.com (which, I am sure you realize is my fullname dot com)

Eighteen long months back, I started an experiment. I got myself off all social media groups – Whatsapp groups, Facebook groups etc.

I have a slightly mixed feeling of the experiment but overall, I do not feel any need to go back to the groups. I certainly regret the fact that I did not realize one of my schoolmate’s dad died or another friend had met with an accident – all of these were discussed in groups. I found those out during my birthday calls with those friends. And occasionally, some friend who was aware that I was not in any group informed me of those incidents.

As a slight aside, somebody let me know that people were showering me with a lot of birthday greetings on my birthday in my MBA classmates’ Whatsapp group. Not sure how many of them realized that I was not even in the group.

I re-joined my middle school Whatsapp group about four months back. Lasted less than 48 hours.

I am thinking about Facebook now. As many of you know, I actually do not post on Facebook. I write (some might even suggest way too much) on my blog – www.rajibroy.com. It then gets crossposted to FB thru a plugin of the platform that I use – WordPress.

The original purpose of my blog (which is in its 16th year and predates when I joined Facebook) was to leave a journal of my life – if anybody in my progeny or even current times ever wanted to know who I was/am and what life I led/lead.

While Facebook has been a great vehicle for me to get those posts out to so many of my friends and find out connections that I was not even aware of, my original purpose was never to try to make my stories popular. I just needed a place to write my stories.

I am wondering whether I should just stick to my blog like I used to and not cross post ever to Facebook. What do you think?

(This is not to say I will quit FB. Every weekend, I catch up with news. I will catch up with some of my FB friends’ posts too – of course, depending on what FB lets me see)

Two scores and fourteen years ago, I was born. Naked, cold and hungry.
Then it got worse.

Somewhere in this journey that we fashionably call “life”, I learnt how to crawl and then walk all over. It was a great feeling of freedom learning what this world feels like.
Then was told to sit down at a desk and not move. As I “learn”.

I learnt how to utter unintelligible sounds. Sometimes even put them in a way that meant something. I was delighted that I could tell others how I felt.
Then I was told to shut up and listen to teachers, elders, boss, wife (I think I just repeated myself).

Somewhere, I was taught that it was all about money. Financial freedom, social status is how I will be judged. Not just me – my family, my kids.
Then somebody told me I will die. Worse, I cannot take my bank balance and my family with me.

I asked – “when will I die”. They laughed and said “Any time”.
“Meaning it can be right now?”
“Sure”

Never wanted to see a doctor after that.

But apparently, I am supposed to put a notch on an imaginary tree – again fashionably called age – every time the earth heaves me around the sun one full time in an incredible speed of thousands of miles per second.

I asked if the earth came with clutch or brakes.
They said No.

So, every year, the world connives to remind me that one more notch has been marked on this day. Over 350 at current count have wished me to say (in computing language) n=n+1

Always the one to interpret it as n=n-1 (I am that much closer to death) and therefore realizing how many well wishers I have, I have tried to return their wishes in the way they reached out to me – phone call for a phone call, WhatsApp message for a WhatsApp message, text for a text….)

I know not how long I am here.

But it was so worthwhile being here.

To understand the worthwhileness, I cite one of the messages I got. See picture attached.

This is my “masi”. In Bengali, that means “sister of your mother”. Truth be told, she is not the real sister of my mother. But in Bengal, when we were young, we addressed any elderly lady as “sister of my mother”.

I have known her for nearly five decades. In the ensuing confusion, I understand that I even married her daughter. But she has remained the “sister of my mother”.

When it comes to technology, while she lives in India, she will identify with the Amish in Pennsylvania more than Bangalore. The last time she visited us in US, she was scared of holding the IPad wrong because it went all topsy turvy on her when she tilted it.

And then when it comes to typing out something, English being a (distant) second language to her, spellcheck squiggles and autocorrects are her veritable nightmares. You can literally see the struggle she had of not knowing how to undo once she pressed an “Enter” after Dear and before my name mistakenly. Or the spaces she had to put to comply to old habits of putting your name down in pen right justified in a letter.

And then for me to realize she WhatsApped this message from my father in law’s number – the one person out of four parents and parents in law that I had that I got along with most and yet was the first one to go…. that is a painful reminder that n=n+1 is as true as n=n-1.

You know, to realize that the same sister of my mother has figured how not to tilt a phone and right justify a birthday message to me from a place literally half a world away… I say “To hell with subtraction and addition… Let’s celebrate “n” “

In its integral and fractional forms. Every day.

This news article from USA Today talks about the twins born in two different decades. One was born on Dec 31, 2019 and the other on Jan 1, 2020.

First off, congratulations to the parents. I never had twins but I suspect they are awesome fun to raise (a little more work though, I presume). (Knowing me, I would have a large excel spreadsheet of similarities and dissimilarities as they grew up).

Now to my real point. The “spreadsheet numbers guy” in me is having difficulty with the thought that the kids were born in two different decades. Two different years, yes. But two different decades? Not so fast.

The Gregorian calendar starts from Jan 1, 1 AD. (Anything before that was BC. And the previous year was 1 BC. There was no year 0). That would mean, the first decade would have lasted from Jan 1, 1 AD to Dec 31, 10 AD. The second decade would have started on Jan 1, 11 AD. And ended on Dec 31, 20 AD.

If you keep going forward, you will realize that this current decade started on Jan 1, 2011 and will end on Dec 31, 2020. Therefore, we really have not moved on to another decade. That will happen this year end.

(Of course, the non-numbers part of me wants to disregard logic and call everything that is XXX0 to XXX9 to be a decade and just sheepishly admit that our first decade was a year short)

What do you think?

#firstWorldProblems

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2020/01/04/indiana-twins-born-different-days-years-decades/2814390001/

Was trying to check how the market did today and this popped up in finance.yahoo.com Really? We are surveying the public on whether somebody is guilty or innocent? Are we back to the medieval days of meting out justice? I bet most people who have an opinion on Ghosn do not even know how to pronounce his name. Also probably cannot point out where the country he has fled to (Lebanon) is on a world map.

Who cares about my opinion on whether he is guilty or not? Why not let the legal and jurisdiction system take its course?

I understand that some may be frustrated with the time taken by such systems or the system itself. But taking opinions from people like me who understand very little of the actual subject matter let alone the complications of inter-country jurisdiction and laws is just a way of whipping of passions for no good, if you ask me.

Happy New Year’s day to all of you. As in every year, I will “wish you enough”. But before that a couple of questions. Most people make (or attempt to, at least) New Year’s resolutions. Perhaps you will do too.

Here are a couple of look back questions before we look forward. These are for your self-reflection and no need to answer in the Comments section. But feel free to if you so wish.

Q1. How do you think the Jan 1, 2020 version of you is slightly better than the Jan 1, 2019 version? What habits have you grown, achievements you have reached in the last one year that makes you feel good about yourself? What have you learnt about yourself as a person thru this?

Q2. How are you going to make time for some of your resolutions in 2020? Specifically, what will you give up, reduce etc so as to free up time? It is certainly my perspective that without giving up on something, we cannot make time for something new in a 24-hour bound day.

May your New Years Resolutions come true!!

———

And here is my customary “I wish you enough” …

Again, credits are to Larry who had “wished me enough” for the first time many years back. On that note, Larry, an extra special wish for you this year – “Kick that cancer’s butt once and for all this year, my friend”.

“I wish you enough!”
By Bob Perks
———————–
I never really thought that I’d spend as much time in airports as I do. I don’t know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I’m not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.

I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to “hello” and “goodbye.”I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, “How are you today?” I replied, “I am missing my wife already and I haven’t even said goodbye.”
She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, “How long will you…Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!” We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, “I love you. I wish you enough.” She in turn said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.”

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?”

“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man experiencing.

“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?” I asked.
“I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral,” he said.

“When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, “I wish you enough.” May I ask what that means?”
He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.”When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them,” he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough “Hello’s” to get you through the final “Goodbye.”
He then began to sob and walked away.
—

To each and every one of you that have influenced me in so many ways over the years….. I wish you enough!