Bitter

In the depths of my soul, My hearts been bottomed out

Lights have dimmed, the sparkle in your eye's out

My mind wanders dazed in this fog, Searching for you, Searching for a way out.

You led me through dark times 

Guiding light, Embalming my pain

Raising me from the depths of my shame, To the cliffs of redemption

And now you've pushed me over

As I fall through the dark clouds 

The wind whistles your name

And as the black earth embraces me

I taste your love one last time 

And its bitter. 

With or without you, now it feels just the same

Who's at fault, who's to blame

Your passion's frozen over,  And what's a moth to do, without it's flame

You'd blow hot and cold

That I could take 

But now there's nothing, and I'm running out of air

I'd cry for help, 

but you just don't care 

I feel the walls closing in

The fight in me's fading

And as darkness washes over everything 

I look back to the memories of you

And they're bitter. 

Words

I wrote a lot, Of love and of hate

Of summer's spring, Of winter's fall

Of my past's present, Of my future's fate

And stories of men, some near, some far

Words of passion, Words of devotion

Of the lust for heaven, Of the fear of hell

Of mice and men, and of sheep

Of how we live and die, to someone else's beat

The whispers of the wind, The sighs of the sea

The babble of brooks and rambles of the wood

The sounds of silence, and the silence of strife

I wrote them all down, scratches on a sheet of white

Wrote a word or two

Of the yearnings in my heart,  and of the stirring of my soul

Of playing my part, knowing my role

And few about wishing on a star, dreaming for a bit more. 

Then I bundled it all in a song

And sang it to you, hoping that you'd sing along

But oh, and how I wish this weren't true

In the end, they were just words to you.  

Farewell

It's 2 in the night, and there are some things that need to be said, nay written down. (Funny how everything I write, starts around 2 in the night). So today's my last day at Oracle. And I feel the obligation to cast my mind back to what the past 5 and half years have been.

17th June 2013 was the date I first started. Pooja, her dad, Vipin and I fresh from M.Tech (Or as fresh as one can be after PG) heading down to OTP for our orientation. I still remember chuckling inwardly at Uncle's well meaning but unintentionally racist(?) remarks ("You'll enjoy the food in south India for sure"). I remember the shirt I wore. I remember drawing up to the OTP building and getting out of the car. I remember entering the orientation room. I remember creating my first bank account. I remember blanking out when the HR (who turned out to be Alex incidentally) started to talk about finance and tax related stuff. I remember tall 6'3 Ashish introducing himself to us during tea break. I remember meeting Priyamvada and Niyati(?) for the first time. I remember being suitably impressed by the IIT tag (we're all conditioned to). I remember somebody asking whether the two were also staying in PSN, and I remember being surprised that one was still living at home with her parents. And that's because my world had drastically changed in a matter of few days, and though independence felt like the keen cold fresh mountain air on your face, it was also warm and comforting to know that people still went back to their parents, it felt like home.

I remember waiting for Pramod on the first floor of the NR Enclave building. I remember him taking me down to the ground floor and introducing me to Acharya (It was always a dilemma how to address him. Sasabindu Acharya. Doing so by his last name felt rude at that time. Calling him by his first was too inconvenient. It took me almost a year and a half to get used to this.) I remember I wasn't really nervous, even though half of what Acharya was explaining to me was going over my head. I remember getting introduced to Hemanth,Anusha and Bala. I remember wondering why Acharya was wearing a cap indoors. Was there some horrendous boil he was hiding. I remember logging into my first machine (slc03sxb.us.oracle.com). I remember being asked to install Enterprise Manager on the box. I remember terribly failing to do so. I remember Acharya getting mildly ticked off at my ineptitude. I remember being asked to open a VNC session. I remember asking politely over pidgin what a VNC session was. Apparently things were not off to a great start. I remember drafting a letter to Acharya saying that things weren't really working out and could he have somebody help me through the setup process. That kind of broke the ice between us and he was quite cordial after that, and has since been till now. I don't remember fixing my first bug. What I remember though is making a status update about while on the bus (Damn, I was stupid then). It's kind of bittersweet now you think about it. About how the passage of time trivializes your sense of achievement. I guess that what's growing old is all about.

I remember copying over a lot of music from Ramya's (Pooja's first roommate's HDD). I remember specifically copying Rolling Stone's 500 greatest songs track. And that playlist helped me a lot in setting me on my musical journey.

I remember Priyamvada and the rest of the PGBU folk chatting about Basketball and stuff in the pantry and desperately wanting to join in, but never being able to muster the courage to do so (Story of my life). But life, life works in mysterious ways man. I finally got in. Granted I had to go to Hogenakkal falls, contract a staph infection, almost die from MRSA, get a 6 inch incision on my leg to drain out the puss and be bedridden for three weeks to get in. But it was worth it. Thanks to my uncle in Hebaal and consequently sharing a cab with Archana because of that, connections were established and I was finally invited to join. And that's where I met Priyamvada properly for the first time and then by extension Aditi. And that's how Beatles and Basketball started. At least for me. Yep. Totally worth it.

But things now start to get fuzzy. I remember Bala leaving. I remember he sitting me down and telling me one of the reasons he was leaving was Acharya (Which was surprising to me, He was quite lenient towards me) that and the pay in Oracle sucked and how I'd never get a hike. I remember him leaving on April Fools Day. And despite what everyone thought of him (He was originally from QA, And developers seemed to always treat him with scorn, at least that's how I envision it) I was always held him in high regard. He had worked here for 6 years in total. And I was sad to see him go. I remember walking him to the gate, and then returning back with little bit of a heavy heart. But in the end it worked out in my favor after all. 4 had become 3 now and thus I was given more responsibility and more opportunity to learn.

I remember getting my first hike. 6th Oct 2014. 15%. I remember blathering to Pooja all about it. I remember basking in her adulation :"D. I remember thinking Oracle's not that bad a place to work after all. I remember talking to Amma and Appupa and everyone about it. Everyone was so happy.

Since everything here is workplace related, this does not necessarily fit in. But I bought my first guitar. 11th Oct 2014. AND I bought it because I'd got a hike. And I fervently thank the powers that be for how things progressed from there.

I remember Sriraam. I remember getting introduced to him via Vipin. I remember getting introduced to the rest of the gang. Jithin, Rohan, Sasi, Greena and Lakshmi. I remember getting floored by Lakshmi's then hazel eyes. They turned out to be colored contact lenses.

Vipin left. It was sad to see him go. But understandable in some sense.

I remember meeting Prerna, and consequently Harika and Abhilash and Sanchit.  Once again getting introduced through Basketball (Note to self. There might just be something here). I remember sitting in front of Aditi's car one evening, while everyone else tried to squeeze in the back as we made one of our sojourns to PSN to play BB. And I remember Prerna's roommate, Dimpy fitting into that car too. And that's how THAT phase of my life began. We'll leave it that, lest I lose my train of thought entirely.

We moved to PTP, and though it was far, we were hopeful that that place would have a basketball court that we could make full use. Unfortunately by the time it got ready there was no one left to play. And also the court dimensions sucked so not much grief over this.

I remember getting my second hike. Though I don't remember the date. 10 %. Though not exhilarated like the last time, I was satisfied. At least my work was being appreciated. I was doing something right.

I remember Anusha leaving for her maternity leave. The plugin team was just me and Hemanth now. Mallik was asked to join. And once again my responsibilities increased and I made use of that. Learned a lot during that time.

I remember Priyamvada leaving for higher studies and I remember feeling quite alone.

And then Hemanth left. And out of the original 4 (viz. Hemanth, Anusha, Bala and myself), it was just me that now remained. Mallik and I were the only ones left and I was given even greater responsibility. Even though I was far less experienced than him, I was naturally tasked with the more critical stuff having worked on the plugin for a longer time. Sometimes I think that's the reason why I'm leaving Oracle as late as now. Whenever I'd feel comfortable or complacent someone would leave, and I'd be asked to step in and learn more. I'd started kind of relishing that by now. Gitmaya Panda joined. And Gitmaya Panda got fired for not performing. I remember being asked by Acharya to put it quietly bluntly in his performance appraisal that he wasn't working out. I did feel little bad doing that, but it was the truth, and personally it was not a hill I was prepared to die upon, so I did so.

And life kind of continued for a while. I got promoted to IC3 and got my third hike. My highest yet (By yet, I mean yet then). 24%. 11 Nov 2016.  I remember I'd taken wfh that day and was watching Gangs of Wasseypur on my laptop, when I received the call from Acharya. That was one of the better conversations I've had on the phone. Remember going to Opus with the boys to celebrate.

Pooja and Ashish left in quick succession. So out of the four(viz. Pooja, Vipin, Ashish and me) I was the final one left still standing.

Work went one, there were good days and bad days. But overall things were pretty normal, until the later end of the year. It was hike season again and I was expecting a good amount this time around. After all that was the trend. And with me handling the lion's share of work in the team, I felt justified in my sense of entitlement. Unfortunately management didn't share my sentiment and I was overlooked for the first time in 4 years. It was quite disappointing. And it was around this time that I first seriously started considering leaving Oracle. But in the end I decided to give Oracle the benefit of doubt. I'd stick around for another year and if I'd not receive one the next year, I WOULD leave. (Honestly inertia and complacency could have been driving forces behind this decision too)

2018 came and half of it pretty much went in a whiz. Mallik left in April, and then there was one. I owned the entire plugin. And I quite enjoyed said ownership.

Dimpy left on the 7th of September 2018 and that was the end of an era of three gloriously cherished years.

Then came the final burst of work that I did for automation. Interesting work that really drove my stock up in the eyes of management. I was pretty certain that this year there was no way I would be overlooked for a raise. But the days went on and no news came. By November Anupam had got in touch with me about an opportunity at AT&T and right after that Sandip also got in touch with an opportunity at a startup called Unravel. So for the first time in 6 years I made a resume and sent it to Sandip. I went for my first interview in 6 years and through no merit of mine got through and got the job. And so it was time to finally move on. Everything happened in such a blink of an eye that I hardly had time to process it all. But hey that's life for you.

You know, In the almost 6 years I've worked here I've never seen Acharya without a cap on. I've always thought I'd ask him about this the day I left. But now that that day has come, I'd rather not. There's some charm in leaving a few mysteries unsolved innit.  

That's pretty much it. Honestly I started writing out this with the purpose of putting a few thoughts down about what to pen down in my farewell letter, but things kind of got away from me.

All in all I have always tried living my life with the objective of consciously minimizing the amount of regret I carry through life. I have been quite successful in this. And to date there's only one that actually stands out. And it's not even exactly regret. More like the intense curiosity about how life would have turned out had I chosen to do Masters in Data Science in IIIT Delhi, rather than opt for DTU (Silly). The only good thing that came out of DTU apart from making good friends like Pooja was getting a job. A job at Oracle.

The only reason why I don't quantify my decision as regretful is because what came of it. Had I not joined Oracle, I would not be here writing this. That's a pretty obvious statement. But what it hides is the personal development I've gone through in the past 6 years. While my academic pedigree sucks ass, all around I'm quite proud of how I've turned out (If I say so myself). The life experiences I've had would never been available to me had I chose to stay at home, and I feel I've evolved for the better because of them.

Another thing that I'd like to thank Oracle from the bottom of my heart would be the time it gave me to widen my horizons. I was afforded enough time to devote to pursuits such as health, fitness and most importantly music. So yeah comparatively, I might never earn as much as my peers, but I'm completely ok with that, given how much I've gained otherwise.

Yep. That's pretty much it.

So long and thanks for all the fish.

: )

Mad Haven

Tonight, It's two in the night

But am I right, to write

Or am I wrong because it's been too long

These words, This song, could go on and on

But it doesn't matter to you,  you're long gone. 

'Tis good to grieve,' tis good to let the tears flow

But Even as I watched the body burn

I don't know why, I didn't cry

It didn't matter, we're all going to die

You sure did, and one day so will I

Heh, but life you see it's a funny thing

You'd think it'll move one, some peace bring

But part of me's still stuck in that funeral home 

And I crumble like the Ash, made from your bone

Swirling all around, and all alone

Don't get me wrong though, there's no denial 

No unresolved feelings or never ending trials

Fate has been kind, in its own way

And I might have progressed, one might say

Yet I yearn for just one thing I fear 

I wish, I wish you were here

But no matter, however gray the skies may be 

You were my sunshine, and always will be

And No mountain's too high, No ocean's too deep

As long as long as you're next to me, unbowed, unshaken

My refuge, My Mad Haven. 

From Me to You

I'm trying my best, I can't lie

I thought I was ready, for this Goodbye

But as you walked outside the door

Three words, six strings whisper

Please Don't Go.

Minutes would flutter seconds would fly

Time flew funny with you nearby

Momentous years,  in a moment nevermore

Stay a while longer

Please Don't Go.

She deserves better, she'll be better off

Is what my cage of silver linings is made of

Still Hope still springs eternal though

It might seem silly, I know

But Please Don't Go

But those aren't the words, I want to leave you with

If part we must, make the most of it

So here they are, from this bum to thee

Be free, Be the song YOU want to be

And Somewhere down the road should we meet

In the Perth Summer, or on a chilly Vancouver street

A Stella or a Gina around my arm, and you with somebody's son

Always know, It was you

You were the one.

Roopkund

There lies a lake, A mirror for the gods
Shining on the bones of the dead
Covered in ice,  Covered by snow
O'er the Whistling mountains is where it lies

I set out with puffed chest and tightened belt
A spring in the step, a tune on the lips,
A week or a month I did not care
The miles ahead seemed just like a bit

Waters of divine reflection
Blue are your depths
My sorrows no more can I face
Lend me your calm embrace
O'er the Whistling mountains, where you lie

But the mountain laughed, Whistling Screams
Sun and sorrow, darkened body and soul
You are not worthy, moaned the wind
And blew me away, I was forsaken

Water of divine reflection
Blue are your depths
I'll return, having paid my debts
Until then fare thee well
O'er the Whistling mountains where you lie
O'er the Whistling mountains where you lie.....

Ramblings... #1 (5/1/15(?))

Ramblings to get stuff working right in my brain again so that I can write once again ….

Sitting on the porch, watching the moon peek out behind the clouds, the cool breeze caressing my face, and Maggot Brain playing on a loop in my ears…. 0 % hike, but life’s pretty awesome still.

Sheesh.. the line above is so cheesy. I wonder though, if something can be true and pretentious at the same time..

Well there are some people in this world for whom the reason behind performing an action is as important as the action itself, if not more so. I’m that kind of a guy. So today, I’m going to write something about why I write. Also to make the entire process more honest, I’m going to put down whatever comes to my mind.. And my roommate just came out…. K Horrible timing, I was finally in the zone after such a long time, so I think I’ll just continue rambling until I once again find my train of thought.

Yeah so as I was saying why do I write? Honestly I don’t know. Even more honestly, perhaps I don’t care?? But then that’s not a satisfactory answer now is it? For one, this would be a really short piece (Now that wouldn’t be too bad ‘eh?) and more importantly, I would be contradicting myself on what I said just few lines above about the importance of motive.

So let’s delve a bit deeper shall we, why do I write..  Do I enjoy doing it? At times, especially when I’m in the zone. (Ok to somebody who’s reading this other than me, the zone’s what I call a state of mind, when you’re just cruising. The synchronization between your thoughts and what you want to achieve at that time is perfect. More specifically, when it comes to writing, every key that you press, every word that you assemble, all fit perfectly with the story you have in your mind. Each sentence, that perfect thread in the tapestry you mean to weave, or like that perfect note, to add to the symphony that your mind is composing.) But that’s not just the reason. It’s not like I spend my days, yearning to be in the zone all the time. I’m not an addict and anyway it’s not my fix.

So then what? If the pleasure I derive from the process is not the real reason what is it? Could it be because (ok remember the cool breeze caressing my face part in the beginning, well it’s more like freezing my toes now, I’m off to bring my blanket…Aaahh.. that’s much better) because I feel this urge to write? To some extent that’s true. I’ve always believed that writers don’t create stories, stories create writers. Sometimes an idea will take hold of you and just won’t let go, no matter how hard you try to shake it off. I’ve always felt that when you put down such an idea on paper, it mostly turns out better than say an idea that you’ve actually put an effort into thinking about.  This would explain a lot though, especially the reason behind why I don’t write more often (Of course, an equally valid reason might be that I’m just too lazy, but this sounds way more er… cooler?). I’m a slave to my ideas and not the other way around. If something worth writing comes up in that brain of mine, only then I put pen to paper, or should I say press finger on keyboard.  But then this would also mean that I’m not that creative as I consider myself to be, and that’s a humbling and not too likeable conclusion. I have a very few thing that I’m actually proud of, and my creativity’s one of them.

Which brings me to another reason, and probably the most obvious. I write because that’s the medium through which I’m most comfortable channeling my creativity through. What is creativity? Well that’s a question that merits a whole separate piece (I’ll write about this when I finish GEB. For some reason I’m convinced that a lot my questions will be answered there. Though at the pace I’m going, I’m afraid it’s not a question of when but of if (-_-) ). But yeah, some people paint, some dance, some create music; Well I, I write. Giving my profession it would have been awesome if I could have expressed my creativity through code, data structures and algorithm design, but yeah what I’ve got going now isn’t bad too.

And to the final reason. Why do I write? Because I’m good at it.  I lost the ability to sing after puberty, sucked at dancing before I could even walk, sucked in art class, I’m not a very good orator, and a pretty average coder. But yeah writing; at the risk of sounding boastful I’ve got to say that apart from my father I really don’t know anyone who actually writes better than me (But then again I really don’t know all that many people). So this probably sets me apart from the lot, and gives me something I can be silently proud of.

Yes this is pretty much it. My first introspective piece. And at the age of 25 ( I’m 25.. A quarter of a century. Phew, that’s old!) it’s been long overdue. Maybe I’m really not that good? Had good fun writing this though. Probably I should try to be more regular in my ramblings.  Perhaps once a week?

..............................

I finish reading the entire thing. It seems to be a pretty solid piece I think to myself. I should post this on Facebook and put it up on my blog too. Probably tag a few friends who I know enjoy a good read every now and then. And whoa! There it was, clear as day, staring at me right in the face. The penny dropped and it became clear to me, why I actually write. And why I’ll always be a good writer and never a great one. It’s because I do it for attention. It’s because I do it for the adulation. It’s for every comment and like I’ll get. I’m nothing but a mere fame monger. Sure all those reasons I’ve wrote about matter, but they aren’t the driving force, this one is. This absurd need to be admired by my peers and betters, that’s why I write. Pretty ridiculous when you think about it, but true nevertheless.

Well at this point, I probably know what you’re thinking. It’s obvious that you’re wishing for the time you wasted reading this be returned to you, but apart from that, why write something about why I write in the first place? Especially if the real reason behind it would turn out to be so ordinary, so base; why let you know? I could have left out the preceding paragraph and it would have still been an okay enough piece. What could be the reason? Well I don’t know, perhaps it could be something deep and noble like I promised myself that I’d be honest or it could be something really silly like the word count tally at the end of the paragraph before the one above this was 926 and I wanted it to be more than 1000. Take your pick.

Heh.. you remember me wondering at the start if something could be both true and pretentious at the same time? Guess I just answered that question.

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