Loved the shape and look of these atolls
We have reached a point of no return!
There is my plane waiting to take us away to Tuvalu
That is a first!
Usually, in a Marriott hotel, I get a gift when I check in for being a long-time customer. From some extra points to chocolate to a wine bottle to a simple card – I have seen them all. This, I have not seen. This is in the Sheraton, Fiji.
They wrote the whole thing down with small leaves of a local tree!

Wildest adventure of them all…
The trek through Mongolia pales in comparison to what I am about to embark on. Assuming I can pull this off.
I am headed to one of the most remote countries in the world. In fact, if you Google “least visited country in the world,” my destination will pop up: Tuvalu.
If you discount the construction workers and other temporary visitors, only about 200 to 300 tourists visit Tuvalu each year. That is less than one tourist a day on average!
When I asked T-Mobile whether Tuvalu was one of the 210 countries they have roaming partnerships with, they practically laughed at me.
The first time this tiny island nation caught my attention was when I read that, because of rising sea levels, parts of the country may become uninhabitable within a few decades. In fact, Australia has begun offering a special migration pathway for Tuvaluans as the country prepares for an uncertain future. At the same time, Tuvalu is trying to preserve its identity in a fascinating way. The government is creating a digital replica of the nation in the metaverse so that its culture and sovereignty can endure even if the physical islands are eventually lost.
Incredibly, Tuvalu’s biggest source of income is its internet domain: .tv. Television networks, streaming companies, and media businesses around the world pay to use it. Not bad for a country that most people struggle to find on a map.
The country’s nine islands together cover barely ten square miles. You could walk across some of them in minutes. If you are inspired my the recent World Cup and try to kick a ball or two, you will be well advised not to kick very hard. You will not get that ball back from the ocean.
What I am most excited about, though, is the runway. There are only two flights a week. Once the little propeller plane takes off, the runway transforms into the town square. Kids play soccer, families stroll around, neighbors gather to chat, and life simply carries on. I cannot wait to kick a ball around on an airport runway.
For all that excitement, I am also a bit apprehensive.
There is no cell phone coverage for me. Internet connectivity is unreliable at best. There are no ATMs. Credit cards are largely useless. Cash only, and that too, only Australian dollars.
Needless to say, there is no five-star resort waiting for me. After digging through travel forums, I found a gentleman who rents out rooms in his home. We exchanged a couple of emails, after which I asked how I should reserve my room. Should I send a deposit?
He seemed puzzled.
My email requesting a room was apparently the reservation.
With hardly any cars on the island, I am now wondering what it is going to feel like dragging my suitcase down the main road (also, the island’s only road)!
And yes, there is one more thing nagging at the back of my mind.
If volcanic activity interferes with flights again, as it did in Vanuatu, I could find myself stranded for another four days.
The next four days (or more, subject to flight cancellations) promise to be an adventure in adaptation for me. This for a guy who likes to live his life on a military-precision clock!
Ah, well! Ready or not, Tuvalu… here I come!

The same old Nats!
Nats and I first met in 1991 when we joined the same company on the very same day. Soon afterward, we discovered that the company had assigned us apartments literally next door to each other, along with a few other new recruits.
Lifelong friendships came out of that arrangement, but I was especially close to Nats.
That was largely because of his sense of humor. His timing, his choice of words, and his deadpan delivery have always been impeccable. He also had an insatiable appetite for books. I honestly do not remember ever seeing him without one in his hand.
I still remember one evening when the Harshad Mehta scandal had just broken. I was trying to explain just how enormous the amount of money involved really was to Srini.
I proudly explained to Srini that if we started throwing away one rupee every second from the day we were born, and did nothing else for our entire lives, we would have to live for about 140 years just to get rid of all that money.
Nats, who was closely listening, was suitably impressed by both my math and the absurdity of the number.
He paused for a second and asked, “Then, why throw away a rupee every second? We’ll pick up a rupee every second!”
I have no recollection of what we were discussing after that. I was laughing too hard.
Today was no different.
A full twenty-five years after I had last met him in Tokyo, he greeted me with exactly the same warmth and mischievous humor.
“Blood Indian of low origin, how are you?”
I burst out laughing right there in the hotel lobby. Instantly, a flood of long-forgotten memories came rushing back.
“So, what’s interesting in life?” I asked, as we settled down for breakfast.
“Nothing much. Still working. Trying to put food on the table,” he replied with a perfectly straight face.
“Only sambar and rice, though.”, came the quick rejoinder from him!
The breakfast that followed was spent catching up on his family in India and Australia, his life in Japan and now Australia, and everything in between. Every few minutes, another perfectly timed remark would leave me laughing all over again.
Too soon, it was time for him to head to the office and for me to pack and make my way to the airport.
Some friendships are built on shared experiences. Ours seems to be built equally on shared laughter.
I am really going to miss my friend. We understand each other in a way that is increasingly rare for me. I only wish we did not have to live on opposite sides of the world.

Book Review: Inheritocracy by Eliza Filby
“It is time to talk about the Bank of Mum and Dad.”
This turned out to be one I did not enjoy as much as I had expected.
Which is surprising. I heard the author speak at an event in Rome earlier this year, and she was very impressive. The topic she touched upon, generation gaps, was enlightening. Her analysis and data went far beyond the general impressions and stereotypes I had of Baby Boomers, Gen X, Millennials, and so on.
Her main thesis was that family wealth is the real economic story of the twenty-first century. Younger generations are far more dependent on inheritance today than ever before. And she is not focused on inheritance as the one-time event toward the end of the benefactor’s life. She is talking about the much larger phenomenon of giving money, or even time, such as taking care of a young beneficiary’s children while the beneficiary is holding down two jobs throughout the life of the beneficiary.
She divides the benefactors primarily into Baby Boomers and, to a lesser extent, Gen Xers, with the beneficiaries being Millennials and Gen Zers. In the talk, she shared some jaw-dropping numbers and illustrations. For example, in the next ten years, in the US alone, $12 to $16 trillion of wealth will change hands through inheritance. With a “t” at the beginning! The following ten years will see somewhere around $100 trillion or more changing hands. This would be the largest transfer of wealth in human history.
She gave examples of how Baby Boomers generally had to take care of only one generation, their children. Every other generation has to take care of two, parents and children. She talked about how income growth has been fairly minimal over multiple decades, while the traditional wealth creation mechanisms, home ownership and education, have risen in price by leaps and bounds, putting them out of reach for later generations. Instead, they spend money on what has become much cheaper – e.g. traveling.
This is where getting financial support from parents early on opens up entirely new opportunities for those lucky children. This is not just about wealth creation. It is also about how much time people have at their disposal, whether they are holding down two jobs instead of socializing after one, their mental health, and even access to better healthcare.
In fact, because of this built-in separation in access to opportunities based on parental wealth, she declares meritocracy dead, or nearly so. Hence the title of the book.
All this was in the talk I heard.
I came home and ordered her book. Actually, I ordered three copies. I wanted both my kids to read it.
And the missteps started there. First, they charged me for three books but sent me only one. It came from the UK. Fortunately, I had ordered through Amazon, and they immediately refunded the price of the other two.
Not sure whether my expectations were simply too high, but reading the book was really a challenge. Maybe I learn differently and was expecting sharper analysis and more insightful observations. They were there, here and there. But there were so many personal stories, almost making this an autobiography, many of which felt trite and distracting, that I repeatedly lost the thread of the key points she was trying to make.
Her ideas were thoughtful and right on the mark. A couple of examples for each would have been enough. The book could easily have been one-fifth its length. It could have been a very powerful book with a handful of memorable messages. Instead, those messages became diluted by lengthy and often unnecessary personal anecdotes.
The editor and publisher could have done her a great favor by ensuring the themes flowed in a more structured and succinct way.
That said, the book does touch upon a few things her talk did not.
A couple of examples.
She talks about how Baby Boomers set the standards for entering youth, with optimism that hard work would be rewarded, but have struggled mightily to enter elderhood. They are now copying the younger generation. They are the largest segment of Facebook users, spend as much time as young people peering into their phones, and have seen the highest increase in alcohol overconsumption and sexually transmitted diseases. Sounds like somebody in their twenties, right?
She also brings out the unique perspective of what a Millennial woman like her has to go through. “The tyranny of time,” she calls it. Not the daily calendar, but the important milestones in life. Education, greater social freedom, and ambition have allowed Millennial women to pursue careers and other interests with unprecedented independence. But at the same time, they are constrained by milestones that cannot be moved very much. “Don’t marry early. Focus on your career… but don’t get left on the shelf.” “Don’t have kids early… but don’t wait until you are too old.” “Enjoy your twenties and travel… but prepare and invest for your future.” Opportunities have expanded, but biological and life milestones remain relatively inflexible, creating an infuriating struggle in the minds of many young women.
Again, great topic. Perhaps I should give it a second try someday.
Meanwhile, feel free to buy the book, or borrow it from me. But I would recommend listening to her on YouTube or finding one of her presentations first. She was kind enough to send me her slides after I connected with her on LinkedIn.

Delayed by a Volcano, Rewarded with a Wine!
It was a cold winter evening 13 years ago when I showed up very late to a party at Rupak’s house. That itself was a change of plans, thanks to a perfectly timed text message from the host enticing me with a glass of red wine.
That evening, I met Rupak’s sister, Rupa and brother-in-law, Swarup. A bit of digging into his past later, I discovered that Swarup was indeed a dear friend of my own brother from their engineering college days. What were the chances of that?
Sharmila and I have been to Australia a few times over the years. We have visited Sydney, Brisbane, Adelaide, Cairns, Uluru, and even Hobart. But we have never made it to Melbourne, where Rupa and Swarup live, or Perth, where my childhood best friend Avijit and his wife Rakhi live.
This time, Melbourne was part of my plans. Things, of course, did not go smoothly, thanks to the volcano in Vanuatu.
But thanks to the extra effort put in by Swarup and Rupa, we did manage to get together. Coincidentally… over some red wine!
What a wonderful evening it turned out to be. If you had overheard our conversations, you would have been forgiven for thinking that we meet a couple of times every week. Such was the ease and familiarity of the discussions.
The topics, admittedly, were age appropriate. You know, body parts that hurt for no apparent reason, our children’s careers, retirement plans, financial investments, and all the other exciting things that advanced age has to offer.
This is what makes those insanely long-haul flights so worthwhile, after all.

The Kiwi way to fly
While checking the flight information display at Auckland Airport, something struck me as rather odd.
There are only two flight statuses: “Relax” and “Departed.”
That’s it.
No “Boarding.” No “Proceed to Gate.” No “Final Call.” I stood there for a while just to make sure it wasn’t a coincidence. Nope. Those really are the only two statuses.
It is such a wonderfully Kiwi approach to air travel. The airport seems to be constantly reassuring you, “Relax… we got this… no need to rush…”
And then, one fine moment, it calmly informs you that your flight has already left.
It’s basically:
“Don’t panic.” … “Don’t panic.” … “Don’t panic.”
“…Okay. Now panic.”




