I was in charge of designing a module which retrieved data from a database and passed it onto a machine learning algorithm. I was having some difficulty in naming a class in the module and decided to seek some suggestions from one of my colleague.
“What’s in a name?” he said rather stylishly. OK. So he knew something about Shakespeare’s quotes. Not impressive I thought and tried explain that (in software engineering) a name signifies the very purpose of a variable or class or a sub-routine, and as a rule names should be well thought of and carefully chosen. He interrupted me midway and said that he really did not care so much about names, including his or anyone else’s.
I was not aware then, that the moment a developer has a difficulty conjuring up a name for something; it means that the purpose of that thing is unclear. That apart, I took this up a bit personally and decided to test if this guy really lived by what he was saying.
I drafted a mail addressed to him explaining the present status of the module and deliberately misspelled his name. No prizes for guessing what happened next. The mail was duly acknowledged with a rather terse note on watching out for spelling mistakes. He had fallen right into my trap! Yeah!! me now turn into a big time con-man!!
“What’s in a name?” I replied.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Who wants to be Arnold?
"Anna, unga body supra irrku!"(Brother, you body is superb). "Thanks macha".( Thanks, buddy). I used to get that all the time when I was in college and working out (which was not too long ago).Now that I don’t workout as often as I used to (read: I workout once in a month), the frequency of such pleasurable compliments also has gone down.
A lot of guys would come up to me and ask for a few tips on working out and nutrition. "Sachin, can you tell me how to bench-press?” "Sure", I'd say and spend the next 10 minutes trying to explain the anatomy of the pectorals and how different exercises affect it. The newbie would be all attention during the lecture and when I'd be done, he would give me a grateful look and say "I forgot to add that I don’t want to look like Arnold". "WHAT??!!”
The first time that happened I chased the guy out of the gym. If I recall correctly a beautiful young lady from Vertex had raised a similar concern to the fitness consultants, whom Zelus, in their infinite efforts to increase employee awareness and delight, had roped in for a lecture on health and fitness. Last thing I heard about those consultants was that they had given up bodybuilding and taken up Origami.
I've come across people, many of them software engineers, who have a serious fear of turning into mean muscled monsters, as if it’s a very real possibility. Hmmm...now that I had matured.. I'm going to ask these engineers a simple question:
Q. Did any of you become Linus Trovalds or Richard Stallman because you wrote a few hundred lines of code?
The answer is an obvious NO. And so my friends, remember that, you will not become like Arnold, or or John Abraham or anybody else for that matter.
So what does it take to become an Arnold or Ronnie Coleman or Markus Ruhl? Besides the more obvious things like years of dedication and discipline, insanely heavy workouts, an enormous diet, a good set of parents and a huge capacity to endure pain and discomfort, there is an understated factor which is overlooked by most wannabe bodybuilders - the somatype or the basic body type.
Our body type is determined by the genes that are passed down to us by our parents.
There are three different body types.
1. Ectomorphs (male) or Thyroid (female) have a small frame with long lean muscles. Because of their fast metabolism, they can be a bit more relaxed about their diet. An ectomorph is relatively linear in shape with a delicate build, narrow hips and pelvis, and long arms and legs. Two of my classmates Cameron Diaz and Brad Pitt are both ectomorphs.
2. Mesomorphs (male) or Android (female) are more muscular and athletic with a medium sized frame and wider shoulders. This body type can consume a reasonable amount of calories since they tend to gain muscle more easily. A mesomorph excels in sports that require short bursts of energy, strength and lots of power. My former girlfriend and two time Olympic gold medalist Yelena Isinbaeva is an Android.
3. Endomorphs (male) or Gyaneoid (female) have a medium to large frame with a rounder figure. Since weight loss is more difficult for endomorphs, they need to watch their diet and get plenty of cardio exercise. A metaphor frequently used to describe an endomorph body type is pear-shaped. A pear resembles a body that has more weight in the lower region, like the hips and thighs, than the upper portion of the body. Some of my Gyaneoid’s I socialize with often are Jennifer Lopez and Shakira.
One of the most prime reasons of people discontinuing their workouts is a lack of gain. The skinny ones can’t seem to gain mass and the heavier lot cannot seem to reduce any weight. In most cases, the problem was that the workout was not designed by accounting for their body type.
Now that you know what type you are and what determines your chances of making it big in the bodybuilding circuit or just simple staying fit, I hope that none of you might have any inhibitions about working out, lest you wake up the next morning and have Arnold staring at you in the mirror.
"I'll be back!!"
A lot of guys would come up to me and ask for a few tips on working out and nutrition. "Sachin, can you tell me how to bench-press?” "Sure", I'd say and spend the next 10 minutes trying to explain the anatomy of the pectorals and how different exercises affect it. The newbie would be all attention during the lecture and when I'd be done, he would give me a grateful look and say "I forgot to add that I don’t want to look like Arnold". "WHAT??!!”
The first time that happened I chased the guy out of the gym. If I recall correctly a beautiful young lady from Vertex had raised a similar concern to the fitness consultants, whom Zelus, in their infinite efforts to increase employee awareness and delight, had roped in for a lecture on health and fitness. Last thing I heard about those consultants was that they had given up bodybuilding and taken up Origami.
I've come across people, many of them software engineers, who have a serious fear of turning into mean muscled monsters, as if it’s a very real possibility. Hmmm...now that I had matured.. I'm going to ask these engineers a simple question:
Q. Did any of you become Linus Trovalds or Richard Stallman because you wrote a few hundred lines of code?
The answer is an obvious NO. And so my friends, remember that, you will not become like Arnold, or or John Abraham or anybody else for that matter.
So what does it take to become an Arnold or Ronnie Coleman or Markus Ruhl? Besides the more obvious things like years of dedication and discipline, insanely heavy workouts, an enormous diet, a good set of parents and a huge capacity to endure pain and discomfort, there is an understated factor which is overlooked by most wannabe bodybuilders - the somatype or the basic body type.
Our body type is determined by the genes that are passed down to us by our parents.
There are three different body types.
1. Ectomorphs (male) or Thyroid (female) have a small frame with long lean muscles. Because of their fast metabolism, they can be a bit more relaxed about their diet. An ectomorph is relatively linear in shape with a delicate build, narrow hips and pelvis, and long arms and legs. Two of my classmates Cameron Diaz and Brad Pitt are both ectomorphs.
2. Mesomorphs (male) or Android (female) are more muscular and athletic with a medium sized frame and wider shoulders. This body type can consume a reasonable amount of calories since they tend to gain muscle more easily. A mesomorph excels in sports that require short bursts of energy, strength and lots of power. My former girlfriend and two time Olympic gold medalist Yelena Isinbaeva is an Android.
3. Endomorphs (male) or Gyaneoid (female) have a medium to large frame with a rounder figure. Since weight loss is more difficult for endomorphs, they need to watch their diet and get plenty of cardio exercise. A metaphor frequently used to describe an endomorph body type is pear-shaped. A pear resembles a body that has more weight in the lower region, like the hips and thighs, than the upper portion of the body. Some of my Gyaneoid’s I socialize with often are Jennifer Lopez and Shakira.
One of the most prime reasons of people discontinuing their workouts is a lack of gain. The skinny ones can’t seem to gain mass and the heavier lot cannot seem to reduce any weight. In most cases, the problem was that the workout was not designed by accounting for their body type.
Now that you know what type you are and what determines your chances of making it big in the bodybuilding circuit or just simple staying fit, I hope that none of you might have any inhibitions about working out, lest you wake up the next morning and have Arnold staring at you in the mirror.
"I'll be back!!"
Thursday, May 14, 2009
The Longest Dream
Do dreams come true? If they do, does one ever realize that until the point that they realize that their wishes have been fulfilled, they have actually been living their dreams? Does one realize that when a dream comes true it ceases to be a dream?
My 2 week leave was approved and I was going home after 10 months. I had been planning this trip for more than a year, but due to some reason or the other, I could do it only now. I used to get mighty upset about not being able to do what I wanted to, but then we all know that “all that happens, happens for the good”, and I realized that all the “reasons” only served to prepare me for this moment. What I wanted was simple: I wanted to ride from where ever I was to my home in Coimbatore. “Ride” like in riding a motorcycle.
Prior to the journey, I spent a lot of time psyching myself, not to mentions having actually done distances of up to 750kms, solo, in a day. Having been an amateur powerlifter I know what it is to be mentally prepared to take on something that is apparently very hard. I had planned to ride from Pune to Coimbatore over the weekend.
Since it was the middle of summer and very very hot, I had decided that I would ride at night like I had before to Nagpur. But some of my friends who came to know of my plans expressed serious concern and advised that I should ride during the day. So be it, I said and decided to start early next morning. Over the next two days I would be consciously living my dream.
Day 1: I had planned to start at 4.30am and then take a long break in the afternoon to beat the heat. The alarm woke me up at 4.00am and I readied everything, only to realize that the rear tyre was flat. I was mighty surprised since I had checked on it at 11.00pm the previous night and all was well. Anyways, I uttered a silent prayer thanking God and went back to sleep.
I decided that I might as well stick to my original plan of starting at 4.00pm and riding thro the night. After a disturbed sleep I woke up at 9.00am and decided to fix the bike. At the puncture shop I met another guy with a bullet. He too enjoyed biking and had ridden up to Belgaum. He said the ride past Kolhapur was marvelous and went on to describe the terrain, the roads etc. Upon hearing his description I could not wait any longer and decided to start right away.
So after repacking and a quick breakfast I was on my way at 10.30am. The heat was terrific and I could only imagine what it would be in the afternoon. My ride to Ganpatipule had taught me valuable lessons about riding in the summer and this coupled with the knowledge I had gained by reading about "riding in hot weather", on the web, saved the day. I carried three packets of "Electral" with me to replenish the salts I lost due to sweating, since drinking plain water alone was not sufficient. Also, I soaked my tee shirt whenever I could. As the water evaporated, it carried away the heat and cooled me. I followed the advice from some of the senior members of BCMT to stop frequently and actually stretch, not just walk around.
The roads all along were superb, except between Dharwad and Chitradurga.
Fuel efficiency was at an all time low since I was cruising at 100-110km/h whenever I could because that is what the roads demanded.
Interestingly, the most fun filled part of the journey was not riding but updating my parents about my whereabouts. I had told them that I would be taking a bus to Bangalore first and from there a train to Coimbatore. They were under the impression that I was to start at 5.00pm that day. When I had crossed Katraj at around 12.00pm, I told them that I just had lunch. At the nimbu paani stop beyond Kolhapur I said that I had finished packing and was about to take a quick nap before boarding the bus.
I reached Davangere at 7.30pm and decided to break for the night. I spent the night in Sree Lodge which was highly recommended by the local police. Here I called my parents and informed them that I was about to go to sleep since the movie in the bust was pretty boring. Dinner was tomato curry, fried rice and rotis. I retired early at around 9.00pm but could get only about an hour and half of good sleep, because of the mosquitoes. I had not anticipated staying somewhere and thus did not have any repellants with me. That night the insects too had a good feast.
Day 2: At 4.00am I gave up on my attempts to get some sleep and decided to continue my journey. But before anything else, I vowed to bomb the mosquitoes if I ever stepped into the town again!!
I was on my way towards Bangalore at 5.00am. It was pleasantly chilly in the morning but the roads continued to be dug-up and unmarked.
The sun rose sometime past 6.30am. The sky was cloudy and there was a slight drizzle. I prayed that it should not rain since I did not have any rain gear with me.
I stopped for tea at 7.30am and realized that I was very hungry too. I reached the Bangalore-Mysore bypass at around 9.00am and stopped for breakfast. Having covered 850kms I was now approximately 400km short of reaching my destination. Come to think of it, that was almost half the distance I had already covered! But I was elated and started afresh.
Somewhere at the exit of the bypass I lost my way and headed into some village and it was well past 11.00am when I finally found the road to Hosur/Salem.
Riding on NH-7 was even more enjoyable than riding of NH-4. It was hot, but not as hot as it had been the day. I updated my parents by telling them that I had reached Bangalore and was now heading for Salem in a state transport bus.
A few kilometers short of a town called Dharmapuri I stopped to have coconut water. I exchanged my road trip details with three men who had also stopped to have a drink. They admired my bike and my courage for having come so far alone. Then advised me to take the route to Coimbatore via a town called Bhavani, instead of riding via Salem. It would save me about 40kms they said. For some reason, I thought that the route to Bhavani was through Dharmapuri. I entered Dharmapuri were election rallies were in full swing and thus was delayed due to the slow moving traffic. After exiting the town I was back on NH-17! Before branching off into Bhavani I stopped for fuel and wet my tee shirt again.
I crossed Bhavani and was in Avanishi at around 4.00pm. The traffic was very slow and the roads were narrow.At around 4.30pm I could see that I was at the outskirts of Coimbatore and neither my joy nor my sore butt knew any limits. I was nearing the end of a journey that I had been visualizing for more than two years! The final approach was marked by the familiar sight of the L&T bypass that starts at one end of the city and ends at the other end, just a few kilometers from where I stay.
I stopped to take one long look at the road behind me and reflect on all the emotions that I experienced since I started. My dream was about to end soon and become a reality. I reached home at 5.00pm that evening and took everyone by surprise. My parents were speechless for about a day! I had traveled thro three states in two days , Maharashtra, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, covering a distance of 1225 kms, solo, in 21 hours.
The longest dream was over.
-------
Trip Photos are here.
Photos of the University campus where I stay are here.
My 2 week leave was approved and I was going home after 10 months. I had been planning this trip for more than a year, but due to some reason or the other, I could do it only now. I used to get mighty upset about not being able to do what I wanted to, but then we all know that “all that happens, happens for the good”, and I realized that all the “reasons” only served to prepare me for this moment. What I wanted was simple: I wanted to ride from where ever I was to my home in Coimbatore. “Ride” like in riding a motorcycle.
Prior to the journey, I spent a lot of time psyching myself, not to mentions having actually done distances of up to 750kms, solo, in a day. Having been an amateur powerlifter I know what it is to be mentally prepared to take on something that is apparently very hard. I had planned to ride from Pune to Coimbatore over the weekend.
Since it was the middle of summer and very very hot, I had decided that I would ride at night like I had before to Nagpur. But some of my friends who came to know of my plans expressed serious concern and advised that I should ride during the day. So be it, I said and decided to start early next morning. Over the next two days I would be consciously living my dream.
Day 1: I had planned to start at 4.30am and then take a long break in the afternoon to beat the heat. The alarm woke me up at 4.00am and I readied everything, only to realize that the rear tyre was flat. I was mighty surprised since I had checked on it at 11.00pm the previous night and all was well. Anyways, I uttered a silent prayer thanking God and went back to sleep.
I decided that I might as well stick to my original plan of starting at 4.00pm and riding thro the night. After a disturbed sleep I woke up at 9.00am and decided to fix the bike. At the puncture shop I met another guy with a bullet. He too enjoyed biking and had ridden up to Belgaum. He said the ride past Kolhapur was marvelous and went on to describe the terrain, the roads etc. Upon hearing his description I could not wait any longer and decided to start right away.
So after repacking and a quick breakfast I was on my way at 10.30am. The heat was terrific and I could only imagine what it would be in the afternoon. My ride to Ganpatipule had taught me valuable lessons about riding in the summer and this coupled with the knowledge I had gained by reading about "riding in hot weather", on the web, saved the day. I carried three packets of "Electral" with me to replenish the salts I lost due to sweating, since drinking plain water alone was not sufficient. Also, I soaked my tee shirt whenever I could. As the water evaporated, it carried away the heat and cooled me. I followed the advice from some of the senior members of BCMT to stop frequently and actually stretch, not just walk around.
The roads all along were superb, except between Dharwad and Chitradurga.
Fuel efficiency was at an all time low since I was cruising at 100-110km/h whenever I could because that is what the roads demanded.
Interestingly, the most fun filled part of the journey was not riding but updating my parents about my whereabouts. I had told them that I would be taking a bus to Bangalore first and from there a train to Coimbatore. They were under the impression that I was to start at 5.00pm that day. When I had crossed Katraj at around 12.00pm, I told them that I just had lunch. At the nimbu paani stop beyond Kolhapur I said that I had finished packing and was about to take a quick nap before boarding the bus.
I reached Davangere at 7.30pm and decided to break for the night. I spent the night in Sree Lodge which was highly recommended by the local police. Here I called my parents and informed them that I was about to go to sleep since the movie in the bust was pretty boring. Dinner was tomato curry, fried rice and rotis. I retired early at around 9.00pm but could get only about an hour and half of good sleep, because of the mosquitoes. I had not anticipated staying somewhere and thus did not have any repellants with me. That night the insects too had a good feast.
Day 2: At 4.00am I gave up on my attempts to get some sleep and decided to continue my journey. But before anything else, I vowed to bomb the mosquitoes if I ever stepped into the town again!!
I was on my way towards Bangalore at 5.00am. It was pleasantly chilly in the morning but the roads continued to be dug-up and unmarked.
The sun rose sometime past 6.30am. The sky was cloudy and there was a slight drizzle. I prayed that it should not rain since I did not have any rain gear with me.
I stopped for tea at 7.30am and realized that I was very hungry too. I reached the Bangalore-Mysore bypass at around 9.00am and stopped for breakfast. Having covered 850kms I was now approximately 400km short of reaching my destination. Come to think of it, that was almost half the distance I had already covered! But I was elated and started afresh.
Somewhere at the exit of the bypass I lost my way and headed into some village and it was well past 11.00am when I finally found the road to Hosur/Salem.
Riding on NH-7 was even more enjoyable than riding of NH-4. It was hot, but not as hot as it had been the day. I updated my parents by telling them that I had reached Bangalore and was now heading for Salem in a state transport bus.
A few kilometers short of a town called Dharmapuri I stopped to have coconut water. I exchanged my road trip details with three men who had also stopped to have a drink. They admired my bike and my courage for having come so far alone. Then advised me to take the route to Coimbatore via a town called Bhavani, instead of riding via Salem. It would save me about 40kms they said. For some reason, I thought that the route to Bhavani was through Dharmapuri. I entered Dharmapuri were election rallies were in full swing and thus was delayed due to the slow moving traffic. After exiting the town I was back on NH-17! Before branching off into Bhavani I stopped for fuel and wet my tee shirt again.
I crossed Bhavani and was in Avanishi at around 4.00pm. The traffic was very slow and the roads were narrow.At around 4.30pm I could see that I was at the outskirts of Coimbatore and neither my joy nor my sore butt knew any limits. I was nearing the end of a journey that I had been visualizing for more than two years! The final approach was marked by the familiar sight of the L&T bypass that starts at one end of the city and ends at the other end, just a few kilometers from where I stay.
I stopped to take one long look at the road behind me and reflect on all the emotions that I experienced since I started. My dream was about to end soon and become a reality. I reached home at 5.00pm that evening and took everyone by surprise. My parents were speechless for about a day! I had traveled thro three states in two days , Maharashtra, Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, covering a distance of 1225 kms, solo, in 21 hours.
The longest dream was over.
-------
Trip Photos are here.
Photos of the University campus where I stay are here.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Pune Ganpatipule
Onward Route: Pune-Tamhini Ghat-Nizampur-Mangaon-Mahad-Chiplun-Niveli Phata-GanpatiPule
Return Route: Ganpatipule-Guhagar-Chiplun-Mahad-Mangaon-Nagothane-Pen-Khopoli-Lonavala-Pune
Start time : 5.30am
End time : 9.30pm
Distance :734Km
The pics are at -
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/sachink.vertex/Ganpatipule#
The long weekend was approaching fast and I did not have a plan for it
With two days to go before the holidays began on Friday, I shortlisted two plans 1. Ashtavinayak and 2. Ganpatipule
After a lot of deliberations Ganpatipule won out and I decided to do the Ashtavinayak at a later date.
On Thursday, I packed my bag for a 2 day trip and also made sure the bike is in good condition.
I was also "camera ready" and rearing to go. (I do hope to be actually camera ready some day)
Started early at 5.30am because wanted to do most of the riding before it got really hot.
Surprisingly, it was pretty chilly until I reached Tamini Ghat.
The sun had started to rise when I was around Mulshi lake. I stopped for a while to witness the night make way
for the day. In most of my rides so far, I've always ridden into a sunrise and no matter from where I witness it it always fills me with a sense of unfathomable calm.
Soon I could hear the chirping of the birds and except for that there was no other sound. It was very very scenic and serene. After a couple of snaps I was on my way. The road thro Tamini ghat was under construction in many places and bad in other places. From there till Mangaon via Nizampur the roads were pretty good.
The ride on NH17 from Mangaon to Niveli phata was awesome with more than one ghat sections. Parshuram ghat and the section between the Ratnagiri-Pune border, especially, was full of twists and turns and I enjoyed them every bit. Mahad-Khed-Chiplun were covered in no time and soon I turned at Niveli phata towards Ganpatipule. From this point on the landscape was barren and the soil was dark except near the edges of the road, the earth was red. It looked as if the roads were laid on a red carpet.
Luckily I reached in time for the Arati and was the last person in the temple before the gates were locked. I clicked some snaps of the temple and then had prasad: Rice, boondi and pickels. Very tasty.
I lingered on the beach for some time and then decided to head back instead of staying on for a day. The "short-cut" to Guhagar from Ganpatipule was deserted and devoid of any sign boards.
One could easily get lost in the maze of roads in that area. Luckily for me I ran into a motorcyclist, and trucker and two village kids at all the points where I had to decide which route to take.
Also, these were the only people I saw on the entire 50km stretch.
I was expecting to ride by the ocean at least at some places on this route, but nothing like that happened. Instead it was a narrow road thru the forest and hills.
Thing did no go as per the original plan of visiting Srivardhan via Dapoli camp from Guhagar. There was a petrol bunk some place before Ganpatipule, but I had not tanked up there. Now, I was on the verge of switching to reserve and I could not locate even a single petrol station.
On enquiring with a passing motorcyclist, I learnt that there are none in the area and that petrol is sold illegally in some shops. Also that I would have to pay a very high price since I was not a local.
This was my crap out point and I decided to head back to NH17 intersecting at Chiplun. There were two petrol bunks at a town called Neli (I think). I tanked up and headed to Chiplun.
All this petrol shortage etc turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I was treated to one of the most beautiful roads ever. It was wide, well marked, and had sparse traffic. Riding to Neli to Chiplun was awasome.
I took a long break at 5.00pm and decided against taking the route thro Tamini Ghat home. The other route, that I knew, was via Panvel. I was around 170Km+ short of Panvel and from there my place would be another 100km or so. It was going to be a long ride back home. Next stop was at Mangaon for a wadapav and I was almost tempted to go home via Nizampur.
But it was already getting dark and the stories of dacoits and ghosts on the Tamini ghat kept me going straight ahead.
I crossed Nagothane after sunset and was 75km short of Panvel when I saw a way to Khopoli via Pen. Kohpoli was only 48km or so from here. Without a second thought I turned. The route up to Pen was good but from then on it was a nightmare. Mostly the roads were under construction and had only the gravel laid out. Riding on the gravel was worse than riding on bad roads.
I entered Khopoli via Shil Gaon and was looking at the final approach. By time I was seriously tired and aching all over.
I reached Pune (Aundh) at 9.30pm, had food and crashed at around 11.00pm.
neat eh?
Return Route: Ganpatipule-Guhagar-Chiplun-Mahad-Mangaon-Nagothane-Pen-Khopoli-Lonavala-Pune
Start time : 5.30am
End time : 9.30pm
Distance :734Km
The pics are at -
http://picasaweb.google.co.in/sachink.vertex/Ganpatipule#
The long weekend was approaching fast and I did not have a plan for it
With two days to go before the holidays began on Friday, I shortlisted two plans 1. Ashtavinayak and 2. Ganpatipule
After a lot of deliberations Ganpatipule won out and I decided to do the Ashtavinayak at a later date.
On Thursday, I packed my bag for a 2 day trip and also made sure the bike is in good condition.
I was also "camera ready" and rearing to go. (I do hope to be actually camera ready some day)
Started early at 5.30am because wanted to do most of the riding before it got really hot.
Surprisingly, it was pretty chilly until I reached Tamini Ghat.
The sun had started to rise when I was around Mulshi lake. I stopped for a while to witness the night make way
for the day. In most of my rides so far, I've always ridden into a sunrise and no matter from where I witness it it always fills me with a sense of unfathomable calm.
Soon I could hear the chirping of the birds and except for that there was no other sound. It was very very scenic and serene. After a couple of snaps I was on my way. The road thro Tamini ghat was under construction in many places and bad in other places. From there till Mangaon via Nizampur the roads were pretty good.
The ride on NH17 from Mangaon to Niveli phata was awesome with more than one ghat sections. Parshuram ghat and the section between the Ratnagiri-Pune border, especially, was full of twists and turns and I enjoyed them every bit. Mahad-Khed-Chiplun were covered in no time and soon I turned at Niveli phata towards Ganpatipule. From this point on the landscape was barren and the soil was dark except near the edges of the road, the earth was red. It looked as if the roads were laid on a red carpet.
Luckily I reached in time for the Arati and was the last person in the temple before the gates were locked. I clicked some snaps of the temple and then had prasad: Rice, boondi and pickels. Very tasty.
I lingered on the beach for some time and then decided to head back instead of staying on for a day. The "short-cut" to Guhagar from Ganpatipule was deserted and devoid of any sign boards.
One could easily get lost in the maze of roads in that area. Luckily for me I ran into a motorcyclist, and trucker and two village kids at all the points where I had to decide which route to take.
Also, these were the only people I saw on the entire 50km stretch.
I was expecting to ride by the ocean at least at some places on this route, but nothing like that happened. Instead it was a narrow road thru the forest and hills.
Thing did no go as per the original plan of visiting Srivardhan via Dapoli camp from Guhagar. There was a petrol bunk some place before Ganpatipule, but I had not tanked up there. Now, I was on the verge of switching to reserve and I could not locate even a single petrol station.
On enquiring with a passing motorcyclist, I learnt that there are none in the area and that petrol is sold illegally in some shops. Also that I would have to pay a very high price since I was not a local.
This was my crap out point and I decided to head back to NH17 intersecting at Chiplun. There were two petrol bunks at a town called Neli (I think). I tanked up and headed to Chiplun.
All this petrol shortage etc turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I was treated to one of the most beautiful roads ever. It was wide, well marked, and had sparse traffic. Riding to Neli to Chiplun was awasome.
I took a long break at 5.00pm and decided against taking the route thro Tamini Ghat home. The other route, that I knew, was via Panvel. I was around 170Km+ short of Panvel and from there my place would be another 100km or so. It was going to be a long ride back home. Next stop was at Mangaon for a wadapav and I was almost tempted to go home via Nizampur.
But it was already getting dark and the stories of dacoits and ghosts on the Tamini ghat kept me going straight ahead.
I crossed Nagothane after sunset and was 75km short of Panvel when I saw a way to Khopoli via Pen. Kohpoli was only 48km or so from here. Without a second thought I turned. The route up to Pen was good but from then on it was a nightmare. Mostly the roads were under construction and had only the gravel laid out. Riding on the gravel was worse than riding on bad roads.
I entered Khopoli via Shil Gaon and was looking at the final approach. By time I was seriously tired and aching all over.
I reached Pune (Aundh) at 9.30pm, had food and crashed at around 11.00pm.
neat eh?
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
First Flight
7th 2006 August marked the beginning of my professional life.
I was out of my house with a truck-load of degrees and now a "working" software professional. Thankfully I am still working.
Even though the first job was nowhere near what I had expected it to be, a job is a job after all. I was rather unsure about it from the beginning but was in because my father had insisted that I take it up. And if I were to "connect the dots" now, 3 years hence, I think being at Skyscape was one of the best things that happened to me.
Traveling by train was, and continues to be, super boring for me.
But I choose to endure the boredom rather than the guilt that would become a part of my life had I spent my dad's hard earned money on air tickets.
Coimbatore is 32 hours by rail, and a mere 1.5 hours by air, from Mumbai.
Now, since I was working and financially independent (well almost) and had the "power", however little, I vowed that I would always fly home. And more so, because I had flown only once before and that was before I could walk or talk.
On completing 3 months with the organization, along with the confirmation letter I received a "joining bonus". This bonus added to my "power" and just enabled me to get the cheapest air tickets I could find.
Even though booking air tickets is not inherently a complex process, I involved many of my colleagues in it. There was a lot of advice given on ticket prices on various web sites, agents who could get tickets at a lower cost, hackers who continually monitor the websites and who have brought tickets for as low as Rs.60, the time of the flight and its influence on ticket fares, fraudulent websites, etc etc.
The funny thing is none of them ever mentioned anything about the integrity of the airline even once. Am unaware of its reputation now, but back then Air Deccan meant cancelled/delayed flights, third rate service and virtually no guarantee that a having a ticket meant a ride in the sky.
Once the tickets were booked I made even more friends in the office.
Anyone and everyone who heard that I had an Air Deccan booking would come up to me
and narrate the terrible experiences they or their friend, or friends of their friends had had with the airline. One of them even advised me to have a back up railways booking, just in case. Thanks sir, your advice is greatly appreciated!!
I was set to fly on a Saturday morning at 7.20 am. Since I lived far from the airport and did not want to spend even more money on a early morning taxi, I decided to spend Friday night at my aunts place which is very close to the airport. After a light dinner I retired to bed at 11.00pm that night praying that nothing goes wrong with the flight plan. At 1.00am I was woken up by the beep of an incoming SMS.
I was wide awake instantly and knew something was wrong.
The message, after the headers and all, read something like "This is to inform you that your flight XXX from Mumbai to Coimbatore departing at XXX' some text missing....".
And so it dawned upon me, first hand, how Air Deccan got its reputation.
The missing part of the message arrived a few minutes later and said that " has been preponed by one hour."
Yeah! God is indeed great.
Soon after the message, there was a call from the airlines representative also informing me of the change in
departure timings. Neat.
I checked in at 5.20 am on Saturday morning and soon there was an announcement or something like that which told me that the flight had been delayed by an hour due to technical difficulties. Perhaps I had spoken too soon about God being great.
After waiting for 2 hours, I thought we were finally ready.
All of us boarded the flight and I was surprised to see that the interior of the "Airplane" looked like that of a "Asiad" bus. Just one big block of seats packed together. I was expecting to board the flight with a lot important looking executives, geeks who could not take their hands of a laptop, a picnic group with lots of beautiful girls, some cute couples and a flirt who on trying to get fresh
with the stewardess gets kicked off the before take-off.
Perhaps I could also throw in a son taking his aging father on a trip. (I watch a lot of movies.)
That whole image was blown to smithereens when I saw that there was a mad rush to occupy the best seats in the plane.
Families were literally rushing in their younger members with handbags and handkerchiefs, so that seats could be booked. What the *&^%!! These kind of scenes were common on State Transport buses, but I had never imagined it on anything else but a "lal dabba". Once all were seated and ready and the pilot appeared and announced that there will be a further delay because the another technical problem has cropped up. A failed unit test case I thought. I just hoped the airplane unit testing is not carried out the way I do it. If some code fails some test, I just delete the test from the test suite. And then magically all code passes all the tests.
If the mad rush for a good seat was not enough, soon after taking off, the air hostess appeared carting along a trolley full of eatables and water.
For a moment I thought she is going to start hocking Chinese pens with a torch or a "disco mala"!!
I was soon asleep and was woken up when the pilot was describing Ooty to our right and instructing us to put on the seat belts.
I was out of my house with a truck-load of degrees and now a "working" software professional. Thankfully I am still working.
Even though the first job was nowhere near what I had expected it to be, a job is a job after all. I was rather unsure about it from the beginning but was in because my father had insisted that I take it up. And if I were to "connect the dots" now, 3 years hence, I think being at Skyscape was one of the best things that happened to me.
Traveling by train was, and continues to be, super boring for me.
But I choose to endure the boredom rather than the guilt that would become a part of my life had I spent my dad's hard earned money on air tickets.
Coimbatore is 32 hours by rail, and a mere 1.5 hours by air, from Mumbai.
Now, since I was working and financially independent (well almost) and had the "power", however little, I vowed that I would always fly home. And more so, because I had flown only once before and that was before I could walk or talk.
On completing 3 months with the organization, along with the confirmation letter I received a "joining bonus". This bonus added to my "power" and just enabled me to get the cheapest air tickets I could find.
Even though booking air tickets is not inherently a complex process, I involved many of my colleagues in it. There was a lot of advice given on ticket prices on various web sites, agents who could get tickets at a lower cost, hackers who continually monitor the websites and who have brought tickets for as low as Rs.60, the time of the flight and its influence on ticket fares, fraudulent websites, etc etc.
The funny thing is none of them ever mentioned anything about the integrity of the airline even once. Am unaware of its reputation now, but back then Air Deccan meant cancelled/delayed flights, third rate service and virtually no guarantee that a having a ticket meant a ride in the sky.
Once the tickets were booked I made even more friends in the office.
Anyone and everyone who heard that I had an Air Deccan booking would come up to me
and narrate the terrible experiences they or their friend, or friends of their friends had had with the airline. One of them even advised me to have a back up railways booking, just in case. Thanks sir, your advice is greatly appreciated!!
I was set to fly on a Saturday morning at 7.20 am. Since I lived far from the airport and did not want to spend even more money on a early morning taxi, I decided to spend Friday night at my aunts place which is very close to the airport. After a light dinner I retired to bed at 11.00pm that night praying that nothing goes wrong with the flight plan. At 1.00am I was woken up by the beep of an incoming SMS.
I was wide awake instantly and knew something was wrong.
The message, after the headers and all, read something like "This is to inform you that your flight XXX from Mumbai to Coimbatore departing at XXX' some text missing....".
And so it dawned upon me, first hand, how Air Deccan got its reputation.
The missing part of the message arrived a few minutes later and said that " has been preponed by one hour."
Yeah! God is indeed great.
Soon after the message, there was a call from the airlines representative also informing me of the change in
departure timings. Neat.
I checked in at 5.20 am on Saturday morning and soon there was an announcement or something like that which told me that the flight had been delayed by an hour due to technical difficulties. Perhaps I had spoken too soon about God being great.
After waiting for 2 hours, I thought we were finally ready.
All of us boarded the flight and I was surprised to see that the interior of the "Airplane" looked like that of a "Asiad" bus. Just one big block of seats packed together. I was expecting to board the flight with a lot important looking executives, geeks who could not take their hands of a laptop, a picnic group with lots of beautiful girls, some cute couples and a flirt who on trying to get fresh
with the stewardess gets kicked off the before take-off.
Perhaps I could also throw in a son taking his aging father on a trip. (I watch a lot of movies.)
That whole image was blown to smithereens when I saw that there was a mad rush to occupy the best seats in the plane.
Families were literally rushing in their younger members with handbags and handkerchiefs, so that seats could be booked. What the *&^%!! These kind of scenes were common on State Transport buses, but I had never imagined it on anything else but a "lal dabba". Once all were seated and ready and the pilot appeared and announced that there will be a further delay because the another technical problem has cropped up. A failed unit test case I thought. I just hoped the airplane unit testing is not carried out the way I do it. If some code fails some test, I just delete the test from the test suite. And then magically all code passes all the tests.
If the mad rush for a good seat was not enough, soon after taking off, the air hostess appeared carting along a trolley full of eatables and water.
For a moment I thought she is going to start hocking Chinese pens with a torch or a "disco mala"!!
I was soon asleep and was woken up when the pilot was describing Ooty to our right and instructing us to put on the seat belts.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
"What do you do on weekends?"
"What do you do on weekends?", asked Rohit.
I said "I read books, clean my room, and sleep".
"How interesting", said Rohit but the look in his eye told me that he thought it was going to be a boring lunch with me. After all, what is "interesting" about reading books, cleaning and sleeping? Nothing. And upon reflecting about the answer I gave, I too started having doubts about my "interestingness".
But then, serious adventurers are known to have a very high co-efficient of excitation. In English, it means that unless there’s something really really wild to do, they'll be engaged in the kind of "interesting" acts listed above. Only a very whacky idea gets them going and that was exactly what got me going last weekend.
I had slept enough for a day, also had had a very heavy lunch and also read a lot. So, going by the norms, I was being myself on this particular day. In the evening I decided to go to my uncle’s place, in Kothrud Pune, like I do on most weekends. So I packed for an overnight stay and started. Since the bike was almost dry I decided to tank up. While waiting in the line to get fuel, I noticed a guy up ahead of me all suited up, gloves, scarf’s, bags tied to the rear seat with bungee cords etc. Wow! a real biker, I thought. On closer inspection I realized that he was a vacuum cleaner sales man. All that gear was on because he probably had to do a lot of calls during the day. It had nothing to do with riding out, but that switched something in me to "ON". The next thing I am doing is withdrawing cash from an ATM and calling my uncle to tell him that there has been a change in plan.
Nagpur is almost 800Km from Pune. I decided to ride to Nagpur thro the night!!
Why? for 3 reasons -
1. My parents were there for some days and this would be a good chance to meet them.
2. My mother was unwell and thus, it would be good if I could be there to offer some support. Later she would be sicker on learning that I rode thru the night to be with her!!
3. I had nothing else to do.
I was on my way by around 7.00pm. I only had a very faint idea about the route, meaning I knew I am starting from Pune and had to reach Nagpur and that there’s a town called Ahmednagar en route. That’s about it!!
I reach Ahmednagar by 9.45pm because the weekend traffic was heavy and the roads were dug up and also because I was riding slowly. Stopped at a petrol bunk and filled petrol for Rs.50. I was already almost full but did not want to take any chances.
The road after Ahmednagar was excellent, except for some craters, that would have tested a T90 (an army tank) to the limits, and I reach Aurangabad at 11.00pm.
The guys at a petrol bunk in Aurangabad bunk didn’t know what to say, when I told them that am riding to Nagpur. Here I filled petrol for Rs.150.
I must admit that I was mighty apprehensive about the whole plan right from the start. I had never done anything close to this distance ever. Leave alone riding at night. All along, up to this point I was telling myself, there’s nothing to worry and that I can back out anytime. I had the money, and if things went really bad I could check into a hotel anywhere and forget about the journey. Anyways I had not shared this with anyone, so no one would know that I failed a solo attempt and thus the ego damage would be minimal.
The ride from Aurangabad to Jalna was the most difficult part of the journey. I was starting to get sleepy, a bit, I thought I was getting hungry, cause I had not had anything since lunch, and most importantly the "me" part of the trinity "I, me and myself" which forms me as a whole was beginning to make my life difficult. "I" was always having this argument with "me" right from the start about the whole thing with "myself" playing referee and offering suggestions and contingency plans.
Now at 12.00 midnight, I was reaching the PNR and things had to be settled. And so they did. “Myself” offered his last plan and all three of us merged seamlessly back into a single entity and continued riding. There were no more doubts or fears about anything. There was only one thing to do, ride. The night was clear and cruising at 90kmph, the only sound I could hear was that of my engine, and see the road only up to the point where the high-beam disappeared into the darkness.
I drifted off the highway at around 1.00am and rode into some town. Thankfully, I was guided back on track by a localite. From this point on the journey was very very loney and sometimes it would be 20 minutes before I could spot a truck or a car. It was getting cold and I had to put on my other tee shirt. I also tied a handkerchief around my neck to try and keep it warm. Thankfully I always carried a pair of gloves with me.
I took a break at 2.00am when I spotted two men hunched over a small campfire. They were very kind to me and directed me further, with a bit of advise: not to tell anyone that I've come from Pune and going to Nagpur. They said if I have to stop and speak to anyone all I should be telling is that am from some town nearby. They also quickly gave me plenty of reasons why one should not be travelling alone. That part of the state had supposedly a higher number of dacoits etc.
After a 10 min break I started again and lost my way again after an hour or so. Not that I was nervous, but I couldn’t help imagining a female running next to my bike. This was from a ghost story I had heard from my friend Ashwini. Apparently, while travelling late in the night, bikers used to come across a young female trying to get a lift. If they stopped, she disappeared, but if they did not, she ran along with them for some distance! What had happened was that this couple was riding late in the night and had an accident. The guy was killed or almost killed while the girl tried her best to get some help. Since no one stopped, she too succumbed to her injuries, died and became a ghost. How convenient! That was near Indore though. I freak easily so I just tried my best to imagine a beautiful ghost instead of an injured one. This time I had to flag down a car since there was no one in sight. Well, it was 3.00am. The people in the car were helpful and I followed them for another hour or so until I had to change direction.
At 4.00 am I stopped for tea at a dhaba and was around 250km short of reaching my destination. The dhaba was actually closed but the dhabawala was kind enough to make some strong-sweet tea for me. I enquired about a petrol bunk nearby and he told me that all of them would open only at 7.00am.
When I restarted I was low on fuel and had to cruise at 50km-60km to save fuel. This part of the journey was very tiring. I was chilled to the bone, low on fuel, my shoulders were aching, and my right hand was going numb from time to time. I rode like this for almost 3 hours and also encountered a dead body in the middle of the road. I was already slow and had to slow down further to maneuver past it. It looked like a hit and run case, or whatever but I did not have it in me to stop and investigate! And it was sometime since it was lying there since there was this foul odor emanating from it. I know about the odors of dead bodies because I had volunteered in the Gujrat Earthquake Relief operations and had dug out several bodies that had been trapped in debris for more than a week.
The sunrise at 6.30am was beautiful because it brought with a promise of much needed warmth. I don’t remember ever waiting for the sun to rise like I did on this particular night. I realized that I had been riding for almost 12 hours now. At around 6.45am I spotted a petrol bunk at a town called Pulgaon refilled for Rs.100 and was on my way again.
I reached my home at around 8.00am and surprised everyone. It took them the better part of the day to come to terms with what I had done. As expected, I was not allowed to ride back to Pune and the bike was sent by train. I took a bus back home 2 days later.
So that was it. That was what I did on this particular weekend. I am after all “interesting”.
I said "I read books, clean my room, and sleep".
"How interesting", said Rohit but the look in his eye told me that he thought it was going to be a boring lunch with me. After all, what is "interesting" about reading books, cleaning and sleeping? Nothing. And upon reflecting about the answer I gave, I too started having doubts about my "interestingness".
But then, serious adventurers are known to have a very high co-efficient of excitation. In English, it means that unless there’s something really really wild to do, they'll be engaged in the kind of "interesting" acts listed above. Only a very whacky idea gets them going and that was exactly what got me going last weekend.
I had slept enough for a day, also had had a very heavy lunch and also read a lot. So, going by the norms, I was being myself on this particular day. In the evening I decided to go to my uncle’s place, in Kothrud Pune, like I do on most weekends. So I packed for an overnight stay and started. Since the bike was almost dry I decided to tank up. While waiting in the line to get fuel, I noticed a guy up ahead of me all suited up, gloves, scarf’s, bags tied to the rear seat with bungee cords etc. Wow! a real biker, I thought. On closer inspection I realized that he was a vacuum cleaner sales man. All that gear was on because he probably had to do a lot of calls during the day. It had nothing to do with riding out, but that switched something in me to "ON". The next thing I am doing is withdrawing cash from an ATM and calling my uncle to tell him that there has been a change in plan.
Nagpur is almost 800Km from Pune. I decided to ride to Nagpur thro the night!!
Why? for 3 reasons -
1. My parents were there for some days and this would be a good chance to meet them.
2. My mother was unwell and thus, it would be good if I could be there to offer some support. Later she would be sicker on learning that I rode thru the night to be with her!!
3. I had nothing else to do.
I was on my way by around 7.00pm. I only had a very faint idea about the route, meaning I knew I am starting from Pune and had to reach Nagpur and that there’s a town called Ahmednagar en route. That’s about it!!
I reach Ahmednagar by 9.45pm because the weekend traffic was heavy and the roads were dug up and also because I was riding slowly. Stopped at a petrol bunk and filled petrol for Rs.50. I was already almost full but did not want to take any chances.
The road after Ahmednagar was excellent, except for some craters, that would have tested a T90 (an army tank) to the limits, and I reach Aurangabad at 11.00pm.
The guys at a petrol bunk in Aurangabad bunk didn’t know what to say, when I told them that am riding to Nagpur. Here I filled petrol for Rs.150.
I must admit that I was mighty apprehensive about the whole plan right from the start. I had never done anything close to this distance ever. Leave alone riding at night. All along, up to this point I was telling myself, there’s nothing to worry and that I can back out anytime. I had the money, and if things went really bad I could check into a hotel anywhere and forget about the journey. Anyways I had not shared this with anyone, so no one would know that I failed a solo attempt and thus the ego damage would be minimal.
The ride from Aurangabad to Jalna was the most difficult part of the journey. I was starting to get sleepy, a bit, I thought I was getting hungry, cause I had not had anything since lunch, and most importantly the "me" part of the trinity "I, me and myself" which forms me as a whole was beginning to make my life difficult. "I" was always having this argument with "me" right from the start about the whole thing with "myself" playing referee and offering suggestions and contingency plans.
Now at 12.00 midnight, I was reaching the PNR and things had to be settled. And so they did. “Myself” offered his last plan and all three of us merged seamlessly back into a single entity and continued riding. There were no more doubts or fears about anything. There was only one thing to do, ride. The night was clear and cruising at 90kmph, the only sound I could hear was that of my engine, and see the road only up to the point where the high-beam disappeared into the darkness.
I drifted off the highway at around 1.00am and rode into some town. Thankfully, I was guided back on track by a localite. From this point on the journey was very very loney and sometimes it would be 20 minutes before I could spot a truck or a car. It was getting cold and I had to put on my other tee shirt. I also tied a handkerchief around my neck to try and keep it warm. Thankfully I always carried a pair of gloves with me.
I took a break at 2.00am when I spotted two men hunched over a small campfire. They were very kind to me and directed me further, with a bit of advise: not to tell anyone that I've come from Pune and going to Nagpur. They said if I have to stop and speak to anyone all I should be telling is that am from some town nearby. They also quickly gave me plenty of reasons why one should not be travelling alone. That part of the state had supposedly a higher number of dacoits etc.
After a 10 min break I started again and lost my way again after an hour or so. Not that I was nervous, but I couldn’t help imagining a female running next to my bike. This was from a ghost story I had heard from my friend Ashwini. Apparently, while travelling late in the night, bikers used to come across a young female trying to get a lift. If they stopped, she disappeared, but if they did not, she ran along with them for some distance! What had happened was that this couple was riding late in the night and had an accident. The guy was killed or almost killed while the girl tried her best to get some help. Since no one stopped, she too succumbed to her injuries, died and became a ghost. How convenient! That was near Indore though. I freak easily so I just tried my best to imagine a beautiful ghost instead of an injured one. This time I had to flag down a car since there was no one in sight. Well, it was 3.00am. The people in the car were helpful and I followed them for another hour or so until I had to change direction.
At 4.00 am I stopped for tea at a dhaba and was around 250km short of reaching my destination. The dhaba was actually closed but the dhabawala was kind enough to make some strong-sweet tea for me. I enquired about a petrol bunk nearby and he told me that all of them would open only at 7.00am.
When I restarted I was low on fuel and had to cruise at 50km-60km to save fuel. This part of the journey was very tiring. I was chilled to the bone, low on fuel, my shoulders were aching, and my right hand was going numb from time to time. I rode like this for almost 3 hours and also encountered a dead body in the middle of the road. I was already slow and had to slow down further to maneuver past it. It looked like a hit and run case, or whatever but I did not have it in me to stop and investigate! And it was sometime since it was lying there since there was this foul odor emanating from it. I know about the odors of dead bodies because I had volunteered in the Gujrat Earthquake Relief operations and had dug out several bodies that had been trapped in debris for more than a week.
The sunrise at 6.30am was beautiful because it brought with a promise of much needed warmth. I don’t remember ever waiting for the sun to rise like I did on this particular night. I realized that I had been riding for almost 12 hours now. At around 6.45am I spotted a petrol bunk at a town called Pulgaon refilled for Rs.100 and was on my way again.
I reached my home at around 8.00am and surprised everyone. It took them the better part of the day to come to terms with what I had done. As expected, I was not allowed to ride back to Pune and the bike was sent by train. I took a bus back home 2 days later.
So that was it. That was what I did on this particular weekend. I am after all “interesting”.
Friday, December 12, 2008
I Shouldn’t Be Alive
Its been almost 2 months into my new job and I have enjoyed every day of it.
Although there hasn’t been single day when I have not compared it to my previous job,
it has not been the routine kind of comparison that one tends to make after a switch.
The comparisons have led me to mail my previous bosses and colleagues, thanking them for contributing towards my professional and personal growth.
(No, its not because I thought I should try insure myself against the economic meltdown and the obvious effects on the IT sector.)
So, here I was, having a sumptuous meal in the spacious eighth floor canteen with my team member and ex-team members and as is the natural order of things, after sometime, the conversation settled down on the obvious.
Now, all of us have some kinds of, to be a little technical, a hashmap, which defines a key, value pair. These hashmaps are numerous for all the kinds of experiences, people, relationships, "you-name-it-you-got-it", etc that we encounter, meet and have.
In the context of our professional experiences one of the maps we might have is the one describing the relationship between the designation a person has and the roles and responsibilities that need to be carried out.
Coming back to the obvious discussion that was in progress, all of us started dumping our hash maps w.r.t the one person that was in everyone’s map.
The key in this case was obviously the same in every case but the values were all pretty different. While some of them had a very philosophical view towards the value in their map and some of them had straight away attributed it to the I.Q, still others were blaming themselves for having had to insert such a key-value pair in the first place. I thought I was going a step further (or rather backwards) when I was querying as to who would have created such a key-values pair in the first place, when one of the ex-team member stumped all of us with what he had to offer.
Apparently, he did not stop at analyzing the value but went ahead and shared with us the effect of the key that he was experiencing. Towards the end of the meal, all we had for him was sympathy.
For the key-value pair that he had in his map, all he had to say was "I shouldn’t be alive".
And you think your boss makes your life miserable?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)