Decision Time

With only a few weeks left on my current contract with Satyam, I now have to decide what to do next. Options include extending with Satyam, searching for a different job here in India, back in Canada, or somewhere else altogether, traveling, or pursuing further studies. No clear favourite has emerged as yet, although I am willing to continue my stay in India.

There is something special about this land and its people, that even with an exceptionally long list of interrelated problems and challenges to face, both man made (overpopulation, poverty, corruption, lack of infrastructure, communal violence, …) and otherwise (monsoon, heat waves, mosquitoes, …), I still have a desire to remain for some more time.

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Some nice sayings I have stumbled upon while pondering my future:

“What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.”
- W.H. Davies, from "Leisure"

"The true tragedy of a routinely spent life is that its wastefulness does not become apparent till it is too late." - Amitav Ghosh

“The purpose of learning is growth, and our minds, unlike our bodies, can continue growing as long as we live.” - Mortimer Adler

“In a time of drastic change, it is the learners who inherit the future. The learned find themselves equipped to live in a world that no longer exists.”- Eric Hoffer

“80 percent of the problems in your life come from wanting what you don’t have. The other 20 percent come from getting it.” - Unknown

“This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.” - Ralph Waldo Emerson

“A child leaves the womb, his hometown, his country, each time gaining greater understanding, altering his actions to some degree based on these new experiences and insights, and perhaps becoming a transforming element of society around him.” - Dan Glass

A Tale of Two Cities

My yearlong odyssey has been split between Hyderabad (~5 months) and Bangalore (~7 months). Recently I returned to Hyderabad to sort out some paperwork issues, and this allowed me to reflect on the two cities that I have called home during the past year. Both cities have their pros and cons. If the best facets of each city were taken and combined to create a new fictional city, Hydralore, and the worst parts were used to create another, Bangabad, I wonder which real world cities they would most resemble.

Hyderalore

· Lots of events such as concerts, plays, etc (Bangalore)
· Rich cultural heritage with a blend of ancient and the modern (Hyderabad)
· Scenic hangouts (Hyderabad)
· Multicultural atmosphere (Bangalore)
· Salubrious climate (Bangalore)
· Thriving IT industry (Bangalore/Hyderabad)
· Varied shopping options (Bangalore)
· Multiple modes of public transportation (Hyderabad)
· Mixed accommodation (Hyderabad)

Bangabad

· Pollution and traffic congestion (Bangalore)
· Unscheduled but predictable power outages (Bangalore)
· Relatively high cost of living (Bangalore)
· Early closing times for commercial establishments (Hyderabad/Bangalore)
· Wild dogs prowling the street (Bangalore)
· Extreme heat (Hyderabad)
· Lack of infrastructure and unplanned urban sprawl (Bangalore)
· Riots (Bangalore)
· Explosions (Hyderabad)
· Unscrupulous auto rickshaw drivers (Bangalore)

The Bus Jump

At 7pm sharp each working day I leave my office and head towards the area where the Satyam busses are parked. This location changes occasionally to add an element of surprise. None of the company buses have dropping points near my residence, so I have resorted to taking the bus whose route comes nearest to the venue for my fine dining or other entertainment that I have planned for that night. As these are not on the official list of drop points, the bus drivers are reluctant to stop. Sometimes they slow down enough for me to elegantly leap of the bus and make a graceful landing on the surface of the road. Sometimes they only appear to be decelerating, before picking up the pace.

Such was the case, when I departed a bus in a section of town known as RT Nagar (named after the brilliant Rabindranath Tagore) to play a friendly game of pool with my eager colleague Kartik. Misjudging my angle and time of departure from the bus, I landed on the street knees first, lost my balance, fell, then revolved three times on the ground, before springing back up and striking a heroic pose to placate the souls of my female fans who were seated at the front of the bus and witnessed the whole spectacle with eyes wide and mouths open, concern for my well being clearly etched across their demure faces. Meters away the bus came to a halt and out jumped my coworker. Heroically, he came to my rescue, cleaning my wounds and nursing me back to health over the course of the next few hours.

“You’re a puff.” – British roommate upon examining the extent and severity of my injuries.

Water Shortage

Electricity is a wonder that occasionally graces the city of Bangalore, but water has been a much more stable resource. So far only once have I been left out to dry. After waking up and taking a look in the mirror, I turned on the tap so I could wash my face. It did not elicit a response. Frustrated, I tried the other water sources in the bathroom. Toilet – no flush. Shower – no sprinkle. Bucket – empty. Adapting to the situation using my sharp survival skills, I had to take a shower and brush my teeth using my one litre bottle of packaged drinking water.

Men in Saris

Out of the many categories of less fortunate people in India (the old, the young, the unhealthy, the mistreated, the frequently impregnated, …), the one that is the most forward in their requests for money are the Men in Saris (MIS’s). Frequently they attempt to make physical contact with me, stroking my face or other significant landmarks on my body. The MIS’s also have a unique clapping technique which they use to signal their arrival and consequent demand for compensation.

Draped in traditional Indian clothing, each of these (wo)men possess muscles comparable to what 10 regular Indian men enjoy, and can be very menacing. As their unique position in society prevents them from getting regular jobs, they have turned to alternate means of funding their subsistence. Whenever I am approached by beggars I give them food if I have it, but I never give them money. I usually receive several colourful epithets and a scowl in return for my lack of financial generosity.

Those with a superstitious mindset have suggested that the MIS’s may have instigated the birds against me, which would explain my frequent aerial attacks. In one week, I was victimized twice - a pair of brown nuggets on a blue shirt and a white stain on a beige shirt, bringing the total count to 6 overhead attacks.