An Year of S

This June, S completes a year of stay here. Looking back at it all, she's managed pretty well. Not that I am a hard person to live with, but she has been able to mix the excitement of being in a new place away from family, the hesitancy in making new friends, the boredom of being jobless all together and lap it up without letting it go into her head.

Last June, when we came in, she was all too excited about the house. She could not imagine it well enough when I described it to her (which was a good thing, since she did not have any preconceived notion of how it was) so I made a video of her as she entered the house and explored each room (of the 1BHK, if I may add). Now, it makes me smile as I look at her going around the house, looking wide-eyed at (now) common things like the carpeted floor, the bedside tables, etc and gushing "It's so cute".

The first few weeks were quiet, until she wore off the blues of being in a new place. She took her time to acquaint herself with the house, moving little bits of furniture around, making the place her own. She loved the fact that internet was available 24/7 and became so active on Orkut that she used it as an instant messenger. She bent the stick too much, and it broke. Within weeks, she deleted her Orkut account having got bored of it. Her next project was to go through my hard drive and arrange my music. Then photos, place-wise, date-wise. Then she ran out of things to do and there started the tantrums.

She missed her office, she missed friends of her own, she missed the independent life she once had in Bangalore. Suddenly, she began feeling claustrophobic, with no one to talk to, nowhere to go to, nothing to do. We've had our silliest fights during that phase,and sometimes I'm glad it's happened here. Anyone who saw us fight would have thought there is something seriously wrong in the marriage.

At this time, FRIENDS played a big role in taking things forward. S had this box set of FRIENDS - 'The One With All The Ten Seasons', which she always wanted to see with me. So one weekend we put in the first season and leaned back on the sofa. From then on, we devoured FRIENDS like Joey devours sandwiches. One DVD would never be enough and we would watch complete seasons at a stretch. It caught on to such an extent that S would keep an episode ready and we would watch it over lunch before I went back to office. Then again over tea, and dinner, and later.

FRIENDS gave way to 'Jo Jeeta Wohi Superstar' and we rooted for Vinit to win. Vinit imitating Himesh was an oft-played clip in Youtube. We caught up on all the episodes and actually became 'Live' in the sense that we watched Rahul Vaidya win in real time. The singing competition gave way to dancing competitions and streaming television at which point I lost interest.

Cooking provided S with another channel to expend her energies. She did find it hard the first time when I had invited about 20 people home, but once that was a grand success, she has not looked back. She now follows a cookery blog and conjures up dish after dish of simple, but exotic, delicacies.

The transition from a working woman to a homemaker has not been easy on her. Not landing a job has been her biggest grouse. With the market down, and employers preferring British people over immigrants, jobs have been hard to come by. Women and Work, which she recently joined provides her a chance to go out, meet other people and observe their lifestyle, but still a regular job eludes her.

Yet, she remains hopeful, and goes about her fairly predictable routine cheerfully, making me look at her in awe.

Dave Hitz on Engineering and Management

Just about the time when NetApp ranked first on Fortune's Best Companies to Work For:2009, I came across this video of Dave Hitz. In a short talk at Princeton, Dave talks about his experience from founding the company to being VP of Engineering.

Dave talks about his becoming a manager despite being involved in a technical capacity for more than a decade, and the rationale behind Dan Warmenhoven in choosing him for the job. Giving (sometimes humorous) examples of various clients, he talks about technological simplicity, company values and culture.

What I liked most was a quote about engineers. "The optimist says the glass is half full. The pessimist says it is half empty. The engineer says that glass is twice as large as it needs to be to hold the fluid it contains." 

Full video here. 

The Cricketer Under Cover

The Fake IPL Player has been evoking a lot of interest. I have been seeing the rate at which he attracts comments, and I must admit, I have seen such frenzied hits on one site only during online contests like Klueless.

Part of the reason for his popularity is that he is in uncharted territory. Given the importance attached to this game in the country, and the way lobbies work their way through the system, any little detail leaked to the public will go a long way, polarising many in its wake. The players know this, and therefore what happens in and around the dressing room, is largely kept to themselves, rarely coming out from under the honey-coated, politically correct blanket. 

Take for example any development in the recent past - senior players not wanting to play under Dhoni, Dravid resigning as captain, the coaches who came and went, the Ganguly-Chappell emails - all exhibited signs of dissent and conflict of interests. Rather than being a cohesive unit, the team sought to be content to co-exist in an environment of mutual exclusivity. 

In that respect, Fake IPL Player (if he is a player), is blowing a very loud whistle.

Part of the reason is also that he gives a tiny window into the other life of these demi-Gods. A life which spans five-star hotels, uptown nightclubs and flashy discotheques around the world. A life where an inebriated star making small talk with a local chick suddenly brings him down from his lofty pedestal to something not very different from what you and me see or do. 

In their defence, tours abroad may be the only chance the stars get to let their guard down, especially coming from a land where all it takes is a single photograph for the media to proclaim a cricketer and a movie starlet as a couple. Still, you get the drift.

However, the biggest reason contributing to the player's popularity is that he is under cover. He is a mole. A double agent. No one knows who he is. He leaks their secrets. He gives words to the steely stares. The team management is determined to snuff him out. The owner is having sleepless nights (unless of course he has conjured this up, in which case we may have to doff our hats, all this muck and mudslinging notwithstanding). There have been attempts to ban internet, laptops etc in the hotels, but this guy manages to stay a step ahead, blogging via SMS etc.

Like the backbencher kid who cracks jokes while his headmaster berates him, he takes on the mighty cricket establishment and pokes fun at it. He mocks the system that tries to unsuccessfully stifle him. 

It is this in-your-face irreverence that the masses are cheering.

Iranian Deserts

A few days ago, local newspapers reported that the residents of Broughton village here blocked the entry of a Google Street View car and prevented putting their village on air as they thought it intruded upon their privacy.

My views on the Street View feature are rather desultory. Useful? Perhaps. Intrusive? Maybe; but one thing is for sure. I would never have found out where these stunning locales were from, if it were not for Google Maps.

I took these photographs from the plane when we flew back here last June. The flight attendant told us we were somewhere over Iran, giving us something to start with when we came back home.

After unsuccessfully locating various other lakes, I did find out the place. It is the Orumiyeh lake in Iran. See Google Map embedding below. The faint line joining the green to the brown is the unfinished bridge. Zoom in to see more.

View Larger Map
Some googling also revealed that the unfinished bridge has considerable history behind it. Here is a photograph from one side of the bridge.

Take a look at the deserts and the terrain. You can sense the dusty, earthy feel to it, a quality which implores the traveller in you to leave everything behind and experience the weary, rough nomadic life. I hope I get to walk on those sands someday.

Here I go again

Its been a long time coming, but here I am. Marriage didn't kill the blogger in me, after all! And it feels good to be back!

More later, but soon.

Doing It Yourself

My first brush with carpentry was to create a dove-tail joint out of two half-a-foot blocks of wood. In the carpentry shop in the mechanical department, I marked and I sawed, I chafed and I chiselled until I managed to fit the two blocks into a T, where one block held the other against movement in its length axis.

The second was to build a wardrobe out of this. :O















First, I fit the middle plank to the bottom and the main shelf-plank to make the skeleton of the wardrobe.














Then, the top panel (to the bottom of the pic) was joined and the side panels were clamped in.














The rear plys were then nailed in.















And then the whole thing was heaved and put against the wall. Once up, the doors were hinged in.















There, a decent wardrobe, with lots of hanging space, shelves on one side, and drawers and racks on the other.

















I bought this thing from a colleague who was leaving UK for good. Thankfully, he dismantled only the planks, and did not go all the way to the pegs. I'm glad I waited till the long weekend to get this thing up, because the next morning, I woke up with a pain in the lower back (which subsided after a session in the gym). Thankfully, few friends came in after the rear plys were nailed in, and helped me heave the wardrobe against the wall, and fit the doors in.

It was fun, no doubt, but you need to get your basics right. We fit and re-fit a door two times, but it was still not straight. It was finally brought in line by tweaking the position of the hinges. The right side doors are still a bit askew, but then... chalta hai.

About S and Love

Sometime back, I moved home. I moved out of the bachelor pad, and into a single BHK close to the office. The new place is a quiet little cosy place, which is tastefully decorated by the owner. I haven't had to bring much into it. It looks and feels so balanced in its minimalistic furniture that I don't want to bring anything and make the place cluttered. Recently, I bought a huge four door wardrobe from one of my colleagues who was returning to India for good. Him and me dismantled and brought it in our cars. I am yet to re-fit it again. The planks are just lying there, waiting to be fixed, but every other weekend, some thing or the other takes precedence.

Every night, after I return from office and fix myself some dinner, there is a lull before I actually go to sleep. If I turn the music down on the laptop, and keep the tall lamp in the corner glowing, it creates an introspective mood. It gives me time to think about S, about the fact that in less than a month, people will start referring to us as a single entity. It is not long before S joins me here and we start our own life. Sometimes, while the thought wanders aimlessly like this, the low music and the muted lighting creates a magical atmosphere and makes me miss her.

I think about how this will be a good time to start wooing her all over again. We have been together for almost eight years now. In these four years of being together and as many years of maintaining a long-distance relationship, some things have changed. For better, I would like to think. And then there are things that have not changed. She still laughs at my PJs. The good ones, that is. I hope it never changes. I think about how I used to wait my turn at telephone booths, and there used to be so much to talk about. I think about how I can call anytime I want now, and yet sometimes, there is nothing to talk about. But from then to now, the longing to hear my voice is still the same. I hope that never changes. I think about how her eyes sparkled on seeing me arrive at the bus-stand every morning. I recall the same sparkle when I was with her in January. I hope that never changes.

And then there are things which are revelations. I think about how, working in Bangalore, staying in PG's, she has become this independent woman I never knew. I think about how she gushes about her awards, and her shifts and deadlines and team-building and stuff, and I wonder, was this the same girl who did not write aptitude tests in college, because she was scared she would end up with the lowest scores. This in spite of the fact that the whole class copied her notes. I think about how, living in Bangalore, she has developed a 'taste'. I think about how she takes me all over Bangalore. I look with great interest as she darts back and forth through MG Road, holding my hand and leading me as though I were a child. In times like these, it is as if I am outside myself, leaning against a pole and watching her lead me as she weaves our way through traffic. I think about this and I smile. It must be the movies I watch. :D I think about how my excitement on seeing Shahrukh Khan and shaking hands with Amitabh Bachchan amused her. I think about how she chides me, for happily staying here, while she (poor soul!) is in India.

I think about how we will now be a single entity. How, should we attend any function alone, we will be asked why the other did not come. How, if we go out together, it will be acceptable. I will miss the risk and the guilt of making up reasons to go out and meet her. Somehow, the reality of the union is unreal. I want us to go back four years and live them together. I want to call her from office, and arrange to meet her at a multiplex, watch a movie, drop her and then go home. I want us to just hang out, see a sale, shop together. I want to cancel a day out with the boys to be with her. I want her to come over to my place on lazy Sunday afternoons, and to make us some tea, and go out to the terrace and talk about having to iron clothes for office the next day. I want to wait for her at the railway station on Friday evenings, so we could travel to Mysore together. Or by bike sometimes. I want to get up late on a weekend and realise I had to meet her at CCD, and make it double quick. I want my four years back.

And yet, I dream of us sitting together on the window sill on a rainy night, drinking hot tea, listening to the constant pattering of the raindrops on the glass. I dream of us washing the utensils and wiping them dry before going to bed. I dream of us in bed on warm balmy afternoons, too lazy to get up, talking about nothing in general. I dream of us sitting down and working out finances and homestead. I wonder if these will make up for the four years.

I have good colleagues at my job, I have more friends than I deserve, I am given more love in the family than anyone else, but I would still want those four years. You see, when it comes to love, I am greedy. I can never get enough. :P