Again a moving phase...

Again a moving phase...

2.5 years in one team and now moved to another...

Opputunities beckon me, they tell me "Sieze the mantle"...

I am a little confused, I am not on comfortable grounds, I am with unknown people, I am standing before my current job which looms over unknown horizons....

I struggle to understand the scope, the magnitude, the impact...

I try to measure benefits, assess team mates, judge behaviours...

I feel it is OK even if I don't fit in...

Would I gain over the work and people? Would I excel? Would I make a name for myself? Would I...

Do I seem silly to the people? Do my questions suit context and have relevance?

Will I set in and see career paths leading me to newer heights from the current level?

I am trying to fight the inertia. The static inertia I had gained with long time in a role. The static inertia that makes new people seem distant and strange. I am trying to get into a state of motion and volatility and change.

Wish me Good Luck :D

Home is where the heart is…

From the time I joined Mar Athanasius College of Engg for my B Tech, life has always been away from home and more so from the time I left for job. I have longed for home, the food, the plush sofas, the curtains, the sunlight that fell in thru the windows, the cots, the bathrooms, the smell, the greenery that greeted me thru the windows. I found it difficult to accept hostels and PGs, in spite of all the fun they gave, it was never home! Home is that cosy comfort that you feel, that sense of belonging, it’s about growing and associating your memories to a structure in brick, wood and mortar, it’s about the bond you build with a physical structure, the pains with which you clean, decorate and renovate it from time to time.

For many of us in our journey of life, home is a milestone, a landmark which all of us dream of. It is our resort after work, a calm place, a place where we want divinity and grace to be filled. It is a dream to build a house and make it a cosy home for your kids to play and grow.

I have my own home dreams...dreams of dusting my furniture… Of the containers arranged on the kitchen racks… Of the wonderful dishes kept in covered vessels… Of the book shelf, lined with the books and magazines…The framed Wedding and Reception snap capturing our best moments… Birthday cards from Punnan... The painting of the lovely Krishna, with a flute lost away in thought... The smooth and lacy curtains... The beds with soft designed bed sheets…The sunlight that streams in thru the French windows…The curtains dancing in the breeze and images cast by sunlight…

Thus, as Man and Wife, we had begun our search for home. In the vast and ever-expanding Bangalore, we had our heartbreaks seeing the prices, the Marketing guys frustrated us, we strained ourselves to find hidden costs and motives, and we swore to ourselves that we’ll never ever look for a home in Bangalore. To hide our home searching disasters, we blabbered about what a worse city Bangalore is, searched for alternate options in Kochi. After walking thru construction sites on weekends, tired and desperate, many a times we broke down emotionally. We calculated our funds again and again. We reasoned and argued. We prayed…

And finally we saw a house that would soon be ours. We saw hope, that carried us thru Bank Loan deliberations and Registration. And finally brought us to the d-day wherein we appeased the Gods and moved in to our new home, happy and contented. It was after all just a 6 month of search and wait for us, we thanked God for making it happen so soon and for having our parents around who helped and supported us.

We are in our new house, and on a new voyage of associating memories to this man-made structure. It is so much a part of our dreams and in future would very much be part of our memories. God bless!

Pothichoru

The idea for this post sprouted in my mind during my return train journey from home in December. As usual, Amma had packed her routine Pothichoru for us. Taking account of Sandettan’s addition to my life, the amount of food had quadrupled. Thatz Amma’s style!

It is not the first time that I had carried Amma’s Pothichoru. I have vivid memories of the rice stuffed in that plantain leaf, of the melting taste of omelette, the tanginess of the ginger-tamarind chutney and the chicken or fish pieces of gastronomical delight (Sorry for killing English language!).

This unassuming green pouch has made way into the travel bags of all our relatives who have left our home on a train travel; it has joined my relatives travelling from Kayamkulam to Bhilai and Delhi at the Ernakulam Junction railway station. The wonderful meal contained inside never had the Paneer Butter Masala or Chettinad Chicken to boast about, it never had a glossy aluminium foil cover, it never had boxes to hold the side dishes. It almost always had the same menu of rice, egg omelette, ginger tamarind chammandi, and a piece or two of fish, chicken or a thoran, it always had the dull green plantain leaf holding it, and side dishes wrapped in smaller plantain leaves.

But the love and care with which it was prepared made this meal heavenly. The feelings that cooked into the meal translated to the wonderful taste which became a trademark. It bonded our people to Achan and Amma. It taught me all about being there for our relatives. It spoke and taught volumes about the family ties and family values. In this fast world, it taught me the simple joy of cooking a good meal, serving and sharing. And in the succeeding days and years, brought name and fame to Mani Chechi’s Pothichoru.

Sometime in between I felt a little hesitancy in carrying that traditional plantain pouch on my train journeys. But then, the moment I open that pouch, the smell that emanated out would engulf my thoughts and bring back that familiar longing for home. The unsophisticated ordinary little Pothichoru forever brings before my eyes innocent and unassuming affection. How fragile are external appearances – an old newspaper sheet covering a plantain leaf? The value is within coz that humble abode lodges the radiance of love, care and warmth.

A friend indeed

Friendship day wishes, orkut scraps, calls from friends, touching messages – yet another day I paused and looked back at life and what an influence friends have been, how some of them kept contact and ties over time and tide, and how my friendships have matured with time and I still keep making new friends.

Probably the first imprint in my mind of friendship is of a thin small built man with prematurely graying hair, who used to drop in at my home most frequently on working day evenings. Balancing a burning cigarette between his lips, he used to voice to Amma, “Mani…Chaaya…”. This is my oldest memory of my dad’s closest friend. From then on, my eyes and mind got used to this man, whom I called Uncle initially, but later from somewhere came to be addressed with a homely “Mondasammavan”.

Amma traces our association with Mondasammavan when he made way into the humble rented house, my parents first home together in Chennai. She still remembers putting out a small paaya (mat) for him. From then on, she remembers him as a constant companion of Achan, and as the best admirer of her own cooking skills.

Every time I used to call Achan’s office line when I missed my bus or for any emergency, my fingers moved to Mondasammavan’s extension as soon as I could not connect the line to Achan’s. A young Reshmi was advised not to go if a stranger offers a chocolate and tells “I’ll take you to Achan/Amma”. “Go only if Mondasammavan calls you other than me or Amma”, Achan used to tell me.

I grew up to learn that I could rely on this person like Achan. I could call him anytime for any help. His family became frequenters at my home during weekends and holidays. We started recognizing each other’s relatives, building strong ties between our families, and being there for each other. I can never forget the zeal with which he used to bring up vacation trip plans and the way he used to side with Amma in all her temple visit endeavors like the famous Mookambika Temple visit which surfaced every year in pretext of Reshmi going a grade higher in studies.

With a mechanical engineering graduate degree, this man showed me what engineering skill truly meant. I still remember the enthusiasm that lit up his eyes when I got an engineering admission. He energetically took up the task of making me understand the concepts of Basic Mechanical Engineering in first year. I still remember that crammed workshop where he proudly operated the lathe and I stood gaping with a wonderstruck expression. His home was a mini-workshop where all his colleagues’ vehicles received a dose of his engineering skill. Our car used to be transformed to the best Maruti on earth with his touch, and we used settle back comfortably into our seats as he taught Achan the intricacies of managing Maruti steering with a single finger.

I still remember how he stood by Achan all through Ammoomma’s long treatment days and later when Ammoomma passed away. I still remember how he used to be the surety of all loans taken by my parents. I still remember how overjoyed he used be in Achan’s professional success. I still remember the triumph in his voice when he dictated my 12th marks on phone. I still remember the warmth and love he showered upon all our relations. I still remember the lesson of friendship and commitment he taught through the example of his life.

I had just wished for small small things like seeing the combined joy on Mondasammavan’s and Achan’s face when I got a job, the plans they would have made take me to Hyderabad to join my company, getting the same pattern shirt for both of them when I get my first salary, getting Mondasammavan's expert advice when I would buy a vehicle on my own and wanting to see Achan and Mondasammavan hand in hand for the preparation of the marriage of their daughters. But HE probably had some other plans for this engineer in heaven. And at times when tears fill my eyes as I think back, I feel I cannot thank HIM enough for sharing this wonderful person with our family, and most importantly for teaching through his life what friendship really means.

Three Couples

A quiet train journey from home back to Bangalore is always something I relish. Even though not as much as the stay at home, but still to a good extent, as it gives me sometime for retrospection, a quiet time for me and my thoughts, at times it shows me some interesting people, sometimes some interesting incidents too…:)

I couldn’t help thinking about 3 different couple who captured my thoughts in 3 very different ways in this home trip.

On Friday, the best couple of my life captured one of the most scenes I have ever witnessed. In the midst of our shopping spree, in a crowded Kalyan Silks showroom, Achan forced a reluctant Amma onto the escalator. Amma is very scared of escalators. I had a tough time convincing her that it is one of the easiest things to do. But ultimately her man had to firmly catch her hand and force her onto those moving steps. He must have been really worried about her health for she gets those nasty aches and pains after she climbs steps. She was panicky as expected. But he held her with the kind of firmness that gave her a sudden spurge of "guts". No one assures her like Achan, and no one ever will/can. And people around watched them with an amused and happy curve on their faces. I could just look on and think of how lucky they were to find each and on how luckier we were (I and sis) to have them as the best couple in our lives…

On Saturday, I had one of those small outings with Amma. Well its something I relish. When on shopping with Achan, we have to take into account his impatience. He hates spending time on selection. For him its always pick up the first one you liked, bill it and walk out. For Amma and me, its having a look at everything, even the ones we have no intention of picking up and the ones which we know is not within our budget, and then make a few selections, then some reselection and rejection, before the process of finalization. Well Achan cannot stand it most of the time. Even though Amma gives her certificate that he has changed a lot and often remarks how much patient he has become in these 25 years…:)

So Amma and I walk around the crowded Thripunithura roads. Well we have a couple of shops in mind. But at last we enter Leela Stores. Like all women will say, “Just like that”. I could feel the suffocation instantly. Well a very old textile showroom. The lack of modernization in terms of AC and lighting were glaringly visible. Also the lack of those young mallu faces, hair tied in the much seen kulipinnal and a chandana kuri adorning the forehead, and a “May I help you?” smile. Well there was a regal looking lady, old and stooping. A Tamil chap who didn’t even know to measure cloth and an imposing old man, the owner probably who sat behind the cash counter with a fan circling above his bald head. It took only a moment for me to sink in that the old man and the regal lady were husband and wife. She was probably Leela after whom the shop was named. The Tamil guy soon displayed his ignorance with the whole shop stuff. So we moved on to our old regal lady who showed us the cloth, measured, cut, and provided some expert answers to Amma’s questions. I moved ahead to help her pull the huge bundle of cloth from the shelves above. She was so exhausted and weak, a big bandage on her feet for some diabetes-related-injury.

The shop suddenly sees a rush of visitors. The old man starts yelling from the cash counter, urging the regal lady to service the other customers also. He gets agitated when she can’t do the things in the expected speed. He shouts at her. He says as to how terribly she messed up the counters while servicing. The regal lady does not even show a trace of emotion on her face. She just goes around doing everything that he wants her to, even though it all comes at her own pace, which she tries to speedup, but sadly can’t.

On Sunday, an old couple, Tamil speaking, come and occupy the seat beside me in the train. They bring in huge loads of things wrapped in sacks and fill the whole space under the seats. Everyone stares at them, even me, with just one obvious question in mind, “Are they really intending to travel by 3rd AC?” Well none of us voices out. They discuss in hushed tones of getting down at Palghat. They ask me the timing when the train would reach Palghat and then settle back in a quiet contemplation. Years of hard word lined their foreheads and some concern showed over their faces. Two weary travelers with a huge load with them.

The ticket checker soon makes away. The man produces a crumpled ticket from a purse tied up in his mundu. The woman shows respect and reverence on her face.

“Ithu AC ticket allallo? Randayiram roopa fine aavum. Enthayalum coachinte veliyil poku. Njan angottu varam.”

The sudden panic of an unexpected blow strikes their faces. They gather their things and speed out, without glancing either way.

In this world where people break the rules knowingly, two old couple who don’t know the difference between an ordinary and AC compartment in a train are caught and might end up being fined off their hard earned penny. And like kd says even I do feel sometimes that there is no justice in this world. Well the 3 couples have given me 3 entirely different insights.

Achan's Stories

Hmm…I’m thinking back…to some wonderful 70-80-ies stories narrated by Achan…true life incidents, the resemblances to characters living is purely not fiction, but reality…Achan has this hobby of making us (I n sis Punnan) understand life thru his life…thru the vivacious little stories in which he sums up his adventures, the tests he faced in life, his trysts with destiny…lil stories that he tells with the expectation that his kids who have lived in their cozy space in the world, well-provided and well-nurtured, understand the bigger world, appreciate all that we have got for ourselves, visualize hard realities n tough times he has come across, n use it as a treasure trove of knowledge for building our future…

After starting his life as an accountant in a small sugar mill in the border of Maharashtra and Andhra, it was all a big phase of learning things the hard way...as for everyone starting a career, there was a phase where he had to prove his worth to his employers, a phase where he struggled to fulfill his own aspirations for higher education, living his life under the watchful eyes of a strict maternal uncle (this uncle Meeshayammavan as I used to call him, was one of the most lovable people in my life), going back home for important family matters as his parents only-son and one and only brother for his sisters, marrying my Amma and building our home, life and future…

From him I heard about, walking all the way to school, with the paisa given by my grand dad as bus fare safe in his pocket, to buy a Hindu paper to put a foundation of English language...

From him I heard about, how due to a border/ownership dispute, some group burnt the erstwhile Somayya Sugar Mills where he was working as an accountant…the days when they waited for aid to reach the border where they were stuck…they displayed heroism protecting and taking care of the women and children in the group…

From him I heard about, perseverance to prepare for CA, by own means and earning for it…being a working student…putting in days and efforts…and rushing home getting the news of his grand mother’s illness leaving the much dreamt about CA exams…n never getting a chance to complete that coveted degree thereafter…

From him I heard about, discovering by accident, being blind in one eye from birth…n colour blind the whole life...

From him I heard about, clearing an Air India Examination with an overall 2nd position…going to the interview room with lot of expectations, well prepared, well dressed, exuding confidence…only to be told – “Mr.Pillai…We understand you have performed excellently…But what can you give us if we give you this job?”

From him I heard about, work stories from National Film Archives…Achan’s proudly declared “Film Institute dayz”…Mukesh Khanna (our Shaktiman), Salil Choudhary and numerous people he still admires…so much so that on his insistence his nephew, my cousin brother is named Salil after that legendary music director…

From him I heard about, Madras dayz after marriage, a small house in the corner of the street, heat, work, happiness, commitment and the joy of having rice and fish cooked by my Amma under the stars in the open sit out...

From him I heard about, having a vision and courage to follow the vision of building a house on loan, in the beginning of his marital life…I remember him sitting with that huge ledger-like book calculating and tackling monetary issues...

From him I heard about, a hard-earned M-Com, lot of credit to Amma who extended her full support writing notes for him, managing a small “me” beside…

From him I heard about, learnt, realized, admired, understood lots of things in life...So much, I don't think I can sum it up in this blog...a small attempt to summarize some wonderfully inspiring things I have heard from Achan...he starts talking and by the time he completes, at least 2 cigarettes would be completely burnt out...but the passion with which he speaks always remains the same...

I don't want this post to go as a belated Father's day tribute...well let it be a lifetime tribute...n I want to keep on adding to that wonderful list, all points given by Achan in my life, on and on, in the days to come…

co-INCIDENCES!!!

Do you know coincidences can shock you in life…:)…have been thru many in life…but only after I started having a blog space of my own I felt a need to record my thoughts…be it whatever…whether I end up posting it on www remains a choice “subject to conditions”…

I and Rathna came over to Bangalore in late November last year and in a week to 10 days, we were happily settled in our abode in NGV…projects separated us, and also our togetherness in office and in the company bus…I started finding the journeys to be big maritime odysseys in every sense…no friends even to talk to, except one training friend, letz call her “Softie”…the days I managed to catch my seat close to Softie time pass was easy…but catching seat near her was the problem…

N then one day, I don’t know how it happened, I just went and sat with a quite looking girl, the gud old homely kinds…we start our chat, n realize that we r both “Mallus”…so we Mallu sisters discuss our families as the first step…n viola…!!our native places are close by…:)…so “Ammu Kutty” becomes my best chum in bus…I talk n talk, n she listens…I tell my worries, some jokes, office stories, one time wet my hanky with tears in front of her, n she addresses me “kutty”(a Malayalam word that can be used for gals n guys n that means chweet one…!) in her own typical way, n always makes me think that hers is the most radiant smile that I have ever come across in life…

So the stage is set between us for the talk that “girls of our age” make “the topic of their age”…we finally start talking about marriage alliances…An interesting topic I must say, coz the diversity and wide range is amazing…N how every girl of that age can easily get adjusted to the topic, n find a point to present too…

Days pass by…we sit with each other once in a while when we don’t have our other friends in the bus…n on a fateful such day, after long days of absence from the bus, Ammu Kutty tells me that she her marriage is fixed…an old Satyam love story tumbles out…trials, tests and finally triumph…:)…N I spot the 2nd coincidence, “the guy is from Thripunithura”…the place where I’m settled and a place about which I have talked to her in my usual fervor and passion…hmm…some thoughts echoed by both of us – “I would have seen the guy somewhere in Thripunithura”…N I get to talk with the payyanz…n reach a familiarity over a local astrologer whom both of us know…:)

The newly-engaged n to-be-wedding-in-December couple takes over the mission of suggesting some prospective payyanmar (guyz on the lookout for matches) for me…U know, they had a bunch of resources, as friends and acquaintances, to pick up from…even though success eludes them, concerns make me happy n Ammu Kutty never gets tired of her concern and questions…makes me feel great, n looked after…:)

So days pass, n as usual, I have some news to telecast at the radio station of our bus chat…I make hushed hushed announcements of a match which shows some prospect of finalizing…:)…excited Ammu Kutty, try to curb the rising pitch in her voice…n asks me the general questions…gets a level further…n for the benefit of my readers, I translate as here-written…:)

Ammu Kutty: “Where did the guy study?”
Me: “CET”…
Ammu Kutty: “Ohh...even my sister studied in CET:)…Which batch?”
Me: “2001”…
Ammu Kutty’ eyes become round and an unbelievable kind of expression in her eyes….
Ammu Kutty: “Which branch?”
Me: “Applied Electronics and Instrumentation”…
Still rounder, a dazed moment, n a smile slowly trickles from the end of her lips..
Ammu Kutty (excited): “Heyy…my sister also…must be my sister’s classmate…:)”
Me (expressionless): …

Well well…she vouches to gather some knowledge about the guy for my sake…N we spend a moment thinking about the similarities that somehow echo in our lives and the small small links we discover time n again…

I actually dunno if the coincidences seem really the ones that can make your mouth open with awe…the biggest play was of our minds probably which forever gave us the feeling that we are in it for the longer time…n that we were the people destined to meet and become friends…

@Ammu Kutty: This post is for "OUR friendship" and in memory of the "MOMENTs we shared together"...! And wishing you all the best in all your future endeavours..:)...Letz stay in touch..!!

My equation with Chennai

Its one and a half years since I started my professional life - as a software engineer...I have bittersweet memories of my work life...It has taken me places, given me the chance of meeting different people, made me part of an amazing process of knowledge and idea sharing, at times shown me that I'm a small immature girl in this big IT field, taught me to keep distance from people, hurt me to the core at certain times, increased my faith in friends, fuelled my ambition to excel, brought 60% order to my 100% disorganized life...

The major part of my work life has been spent in Chennai...I was not particularly happy when I got a relocation to Chennai from Hyderabad...I was definitely excited for my project which is the most important word for every software engineer...Hyderabad was fun - lots of friends, some "own" money in hand, lots of places to roam about, and a wonderful, reasonably costly and beautiful city to roam about...Chennai only brought heat, dirt, misery, nearer to home feelings to me...

But my feelings for Chennai has changed ever since…so much so that I was really sad to leave Chennai for Bangalore…Looking back at Chennai and the equation between me and Chennai =

1. Made me a lot systematic, I started to be forever obsessed to folding and arranging my clothes and cupboards, took a fancy for washing...
2. Made me a lifelong high dosage perfume user...courtesy Thoyakat :-)
3. That the best way to tackle irritating people is to keep mum and have a slight smile on your face…
4. Taught me that there are some locations that capture the soul of this rich and diverse country better than the rest...My long treads thru Pondy Bazar have brought me close to this nation's soul, gave me a sense of oneness, a feeling of togetherness and amazing clarity of the thought and feeling of "my country"...
5. Tunes sung with passion, together with friends will bond hearts and forever reverberate in your life…so much so that you’ll always relive those moments in your day 2 day thoughts…
6. Sea will never make you sick…It’ll jus make you feel better and better, take off all your troubles and worries with the waves…
7. Cooking is fun…So is home making…Also window shopping...And bargaining...
8. Made me hooked to .NET technology…N given me the feeling that “I’m doing some great programming stuff”…
9. Helped in the transition from the thin, emaciated "Reshmi" to the fatter, plumper n healthier side of the world...
10. Given me some great friends…especially the 3 musketeers with whom I first stepped into Chennai and also reiterated my friendship with certain people, who have become my friends for life…

The list goes on...

Well Chennai...you'll always be close to my heart...for teaching me that its not the place, but people who lighten up ur life...:-)