Circa 2030, Bengaluru!

Circa 2030, Bengaluru!

There were numerous successful tests conducted by big tech companies on ‘Driverless Cars’ in US, that set of my imagination! Fast forward to Circa 2030, Bengaluru.  Population of Bengaluru has reached a cool 2 Crores; with the number of vehicles plying on city roads having crossed a Crore mark. Google, Apple and Volvo have come out with beautiful models of gleaming driverless cars; with several on-board computers and guided by satellite and GPS systems; each basic car costs a couple of Crores or more depending on the accessories; However, as India is recording a double digit economic growth every year for the past few years, the expanding middle class population is able to afford any number of such fancy cars. Not a far-fetched idea, is it? Would be an extremely likely scenario.

Looking at the other end of the spectrum, would the pace of development and infrastructure in Bengaluru have kept pace with the technological innovations of 21st century? I hardly think so.  The parties in power would have taken turns in ruining the State; further taking back Bengaluru to the brink of disaster. Roads would be more pathetic, covered with potholes; garbage and stink strewn everywhere; banners and posters of political leaders and their cohorts staring from every wall and pole, wishing and greeting each other; trees would have been replaced with huge concrete and glass structures dotting the city; existing few lakes would have given way to industrial waste and garbage dumps; stray dogs and cattle could be seen everywhere; summer temperatures would be seen hovering around 45-47 degrees centigrade, due to global warming, no doubt.

Tech engineers and specialist doctors would be back in India from US with the hopes of a good quality life in their home-country; no doubt impressed by the invitation given by the young Prime Minister of India!   Our Techie (let's just call him that, the hero of this piece) could be seen driving (or ghost-driven!) to his office in a silver gleaming driverless Apple car, from JP Nagar to White Field. The entire BTM layout Road stretch up to Silk Board is dug up on either side (for construction of Metro or widening of the roads or some such activity); the traffic is inching across every few meters and coming to a halt at every traffic signal. Our Techie’s driverless car with numerous built-in ‘sensors’ and computers on board is hardly moving; coming to a stop after moving every inch; no doubt ‘sensing’ some obstruction by way of pedestrians crossing the road, two wheelers criss-crossing his car, stray cattle and dogs strolling on the roads, mud-strewn dug-up roads; potholes coming up now and then. Our Techie sitting inside his AC driverless car is pretty ‘cool’ glued to the music playing on his headphone and the large TV screens in front of him; occasionally he is seen dozing off having woken up in the very early hours of the morning (8 AM) by his over-indulgent parents! The regular drivers in ‘driver’ driven cars that are following this Techie’s driverless car could be seen honking and gesticulating, urging him to move forward at a faster pace; no doubt not realising that this is a high-tech ‘sensor-driven’ driverless car! The car has a mind of its own with built-in intelligence; it doesn’t respond to any kind of pressure tactics including honking, gesticulating or shouting; whatever the external provocation or road rage, the car doesn’t respond! Cool car!

Our Techie’s driverless car weaves its way through heavy density traffic along the way, stopping for nearly 30 minutes at each traffic signal at various places on the entire stretch of its way towards White Field. Countless obstructions as already narrated above is encountered on the way, but our Techie’s expensive driverless car, being extremely smart and intelligent, navigates safely and reaches its final destination, White Field (no doubt, name of the destination has been tapped into the on-board computer by our Techie). Once the destination is reached, a voice-activated system (very much like Siri, Alexa) announces arrival of the destination. The doors automatically open; our Techie exits from the car and hurries into the office; the doors of the car get auto-locked! Beautiful. The car then moves on to park itself into the allotted parking slot inside the office parking garage.

No doubt, our Techie reaches his office very late; almost evening, the office closing hours of most offices in Bengaluru, India! But very much right on time to service his clientele in the US! It is still early morning in the US. No doubt, the cars were designed and built by US Companies based on their UTC time format! Fantastic!

The following day morning, our Techie is ready to leave his office (after servicing his US clientele) heading towards his home in JP Nagar. He taps the related app in his smartphone; commands his driverless car to pick him up from the office entrance. The car no doubt, activates itself, moves out from the garage and slides into the office front entrance. Our Techie is ready to embark on his journey back home. He has already tapped the destination in his smartphone app. The door automatically opens. He slides into the comfortable seats. The journey back home begins. The driverless car weaves through the wonderful Bengaluru traffic and safely delivers him home in the evening. After a wonderful rest and deep sleep in the comfort of his driverless car, our Techie feels nicely rested and happy! What a car! Technology is wonderful, isn’t it? Life is beautiful!

Work is worship!

 

 

 

I go back in time when “work” was considered to be a serious form of worship.  Serious workaholics strongly believed in the idiom, “Work is Worship” and toiled day in day out.  Most of these workaholics were “seen” to be good leaders and successful people.  The names of these people were often quoted, as shining examples to emulate and to motivate the younger generation to work harder.  For anybody who was seen taking a break or just relaxing in-between office work, their acts were considered blasphemous. Back in the eighties, during the early stages of my banking career, I had a nagging suspicion that the Bank had assigned some senior executives solely to keep a close watch on the young employees who had been recruited in hordes in all nationalized banks post the bank nationalization phase in the late sixties and early seventies in India.  Recruitment took place in Banks in thousands, in the late seventies and early eighties, very much like the mass recruitment we see in IT and Services Companies these days.  I suspect, some of the senior executives in Banks were ordained by Bank management to go around their Head Office / Main office building in the Bank just to catch the youngsters in the act of chatting among themselves standing near the staircases or loitering here and there or just “whiling away” their precious “work” time in the office canteens. I remember being remonstrated a few times by senior executives to go back to respective work stations and complete the “work” instead of wasting time.  Working late was considered the norm with employees putting in extra hours of “work” beyond their stipulated working hours.  Sitting late would fetch the employees the required additional marks in their annual appraisals which was considered a “must” for promotions!

The youngsters in Banks who had been freshly recruited from various colleges had carried over their baggage in forming groups of like-minded individuals for sharing experiences and discussing their work-life occurrences standing near the staircases.  The atmosphere in the Head Office of the Bank was buzzing with activity.  Young people were seen milling all around the Head Office or their Main Offices with enthusiasm.  There was so much energy and freshness around the Bank environment, which is in sharp contrast to what we see in the nationalized Banks today.  Pardon me, while I say that most of the nationalized Bank employees today appear all too tired, dull and old, ready to pack up their bags at the drop of a hat, once and for all, either to opt for voluntary retirement or wait for attaining superannuation.   Since there was the mass recruitment of employees in the early eighties, now there appears to be the mass exit of employees occurring in nationalized Banks these days.

Coming back to the topic at hand, we hear the refrain “work life balance” being bandied about constantly these days; used synonymously with the IT and other services’ employees who work around the clock, 24/7, catering to their “clients” from around the world.  These days the term of yore, “work is worship” seem to be almost absent.  It is now all about teamwork and making greater use of technology.  Great ideas and inspiration seem to be the buzzword.  People have realized the darker side of slogging 24/7; with the pervasive lifestyle, related health issues cropping up; employees not having quality time for their families; and many other negative factors in the society catching up, to show up, the ill effects of working too much at the cost of their personal life.  Personal life gets disrupted with too much focus on “work” and nothing else, in between.

“All work and no play make Jack a dull boy”, seems to be the mantra these days; in the process, companies are urging their employees to have a perfect work-life balance.  The big multinational companies, software, services and otherwise, have all provided for various facilities within their Headquarters each looking more and more like college campuses rather than companies where people need to “work” for generating profits for these companies.  Googling, "Google" HQ shows up Group cooking classes or coffee tasting arrangement for its employees; bikes are provided to employees to move around the campus; Cafes galore within the campuses; group fitness classes with A class Gym facilities and much more are provided to their employees.  Facebook (it's Meta now) HQ, on the other hand, have many other wonderful facilities for its employees; company store–filled with FB apparel and items; it seems they even have foxes on campus, real ones, with specially designated fox-habitat area, and the campus certified for wild-life; video arcade for employees to hang out; many fast food restaurants filled with Burgers, pizzas, burritos, sushi, sweet shops, coffee shops, vending machines filled with snacks and beverages. All free. An interior swing for employees to “chill” in the playground near to the mini-kitchen.  Lots of electric cars in the parking lot.  Apple, it appears have designed their new HQ in a unique circular style reminiscent of their iPod, iPhone and iPad.  Their new campus includes a café for 3,000 sitting people;  surrounded by extensive landscaping, and offer parking both underground and a parking structure.  Media reports widely describe the new structure as "spaceship".  Other facilities include a 1,000-seat auditorium, 300,000 square feet of R&D facilities, a fitness centre; an orchard, and a dedicated generating plant as the primary source of electricity (powered by natural gas and other more environmentally sound means); with a gorgeous courtyard in the middle, and a lot more.  What else, next?  Your imagination is as good as mine!  With all these wonderful facilities’ available, where do the employees find time to complete their required “work” hours, in between all the recreation and fun?

How times are A-changing.  The workers of the world, rejoice!  Sitting late in Offices is now considered passé.  Life seems to have come full circle.   Workers, in general, who were once viewed with suspicion and had to be reined in to be more productive with catchy phrases such as “Work is Worship” as a means of motivation is no longer bandied around.  Retaining employees was unheard of, in our earlier days; there were no retention policies to retain talented youngsters by providing various state-of-the-art facilities, including but not limited to employee stock options.  Workers were considered mere “automatons” or “robots” working at the pleasure of the employers; the loyal “employees” of yesteryears were threatened with more stringent working hours and bad reviews if they did not “fall in line” with the management philosophy of work, work and more work.  What a royal fall from their high horses for the employers/managements!  Who has had the last laugh, now, the “workers” or the “employers/managements”, your guess is as good as mine!

The Mouse Hunt

The Mouse Hunt

The small mammal close to humans, the house mouse, can cause extreme reactions in us, humans, if they infest our homes. There was one such house mouse which had invaded our home recently and stayed put for more than two weeks. You may not believe it, the tiny rodent started playing with all our human emotions and created short circuits in our brains. I am not exaggerating. All of us, in our family were on tenterhooks, waiting to explode at any time, due to the ruckus created by the tiny mouse. To be fair to the mouse, all this was not the fault of the tiny rodent, it was just living its life under our auspices, enjoying the warmth of the refrigerator motor unit cubicle and the cool climes of the kitchen cupboards.

It all began on a rainy day, when the weather was cool in Bangalore. We thought, Bangalore was slowly regaining its original rainy climate (the climate that existed so many decades ago) when the days were rainy and the skies overcast. Our home was cool and dark. We had to switch on the lights to lighten the gloom inside our home. On one such gloomy day, while cooking lunch, my wife noticed some sounds emanating in the kitchen cabinets below the granite kitchen platform. When she told me that, this could be the handiwork of a house mouse, I was aghast. I told her, she was imagining things. The problem, was, as always, my sceptical behaviour. I do not believe in things, until I see them with my own eyes. My wife was insistent, that I was wrong, as usual. The kind of light banter that happens routinely in most households, continued between husband and wife, back and forth.  The next day, she told me that more sounds were coming from the cupboard and she was quite certain this time, as she had seen the mouse with her own eyes, scurrying within the cupboard, when she had the cupboard door open to pick some house hold items from there. It was my turn again to be adamant. I told her that her imagination was running riot, she had better rein in her imagination.  She scoffed and challenged me to open the cupboard door and verify it for myself. I am normally hesitant to challenge the rodent family or for that matter even the roach family or lizard family. I have to admit to myself, (not in front my wife, of course) that I am, rather scared of the house pests. Not that, I would run away from them, if found in the vicinity; only that, I would not dare to put myself in the pests’ path and go looking for them in cupboards or elsewhere. As usual, my wife accused me of being less of a man, if I dare not shoo away the mouse from our home. She felt vindicated with her assessment, when I refused smugly to look into the kitchen cupboard.

As can be expected, the mouse had to venture out of its hiding place, in search of food some day. Within the next two or three days after its first sighting, the mouse came out from the kitchen cupboard and scurried into the room. Even then, I did not notice the mouse. Only from the reactions of those around, I could gather that a lightning bolt had hit in the vicinity. This time around, I was convinced that there was, indeed, some pest, going about the house and a strong, positive action, was required from me. Being the man of the house, I retrieved the mouse trap from the loft and gathered all my wits for setting the bait using the mousetrap. I searched for some help online, looking for a perfect bait that would attract the mouse into the trap. Some of them had suggested, cheese would be the best bait to trap the mouse. We did not have cheese in the house, so the next alternative we had, was, a small toffee. The bait was set and the trap kept near the refrigerator, where we thought it had gone into hiding, the previous night. On the next morning, we were eager to see the result of our smart move. Nothing in the trap. The mouse was not really bothered about the toffee. Our neighbour rubbished and laughed at the idea of a toffee as bait and said, ‘no way; the mouse will not be attracted by a toffee, you are simple wasting your time’ (You see, we were so desperate that we had consulted our immediate neighbourhood looking for the best ways of trapping a house mouse). The next day, we purchased rat poison from the retailer nearby, who told us, that this is the best way to get rid of rats. We placed the rat poison nimbly near the refrigerator with a fond hope that the mouse would be dead the next morning after having tried the poison. But, our mouse was made of sterner stuff, it was, in no way attracted to the poison. The rat poison idea too, had failed to achieve its objective.

My wife reminded me of a funny story which goes something like this. It appears that Saif Ali Khan (son of Mansoor Ali Khan Pataudi and Sharmila Tagore) had once taken out his shotgun to go after a colony of Indian mole rats that was pestering his neighbourhood. The story goes that Saif Ali Khan was called in every time an Indian mole rat was spotted in the neighbourhood and he was nicknamed the ‘Rat hunter’ as he had hunted down the rat every time with alacrity. His more famous father was nicknamed the ‘tiger’ as he had hunted real tigers in the jungle, while his son had followed in the footsteps of his famous father and become a ‘Rat hunter’!

Back to our mouse story. Based on one of our neighbour’s suggestion, the next day we kept a burnt dry coconut piece as bait in the mouse trap. The mouse seemed to have guessed our intentions and remained disinterested even in the dry coconut offering. The next bright suggestion came from our house maid. She said that there is a new mouse bait available in the market, called magic mouse trap or some such thing, which had an extremely sticky substance smeared on a piece of cardboard. She purchased the thing and bought it for us. All we had to do was place the cardboard contraption in the path of the mouse. Our maid had all words of praise on the new mouse trapping device; she had tried it out several times with positive results. She was confident the trap would work. It seems, the bait had been manufactured in such a way, that when the mouse, scurries over the cardboard piece, all of its four feet get stuck right there. The mouse would be left whimpering for someone to rescue it from the sticky cardboard. All one had to do was, dispose of, the whimpering stuck mouse, outside of their homes. Our mouse was smarter than any of us and avoided treading on the magic cardboard for days together. We all looked like fools and were left holding the cardboard contraption without any success.

We had formed a formidable team of mouse hunters to trap the mouse. The house maid as the team lead; as man of house, I, was the second lead, wife being the chief co-ordinator and rest of the family members, the curious onlookers. All our efforts to catch the mouse had failed and the team had, almost, given up on its mission.

In the meanwhile, our smart mouse was creating havoc within our house. We were, of the impression that the mouse would just move around on the ground floor alternating between the kitchen and the room. It had no dark place to hide elsewhere in the living room. We never expected that the mouse could climb up to the first floor and invade our bedroom. It did just that! One evening we saw the mouse scamper across in our bedroom and go back to its hiding place inside my writing desk kept on the first floor living room. My writing desk held all sorts of attraction to the mouse, it was an ideal hiding place. I had stored photo albums, old books, dusting clothes, toolbox kit and many more in my writing desk drawer. There was an opening behind the writing desk, which was convenient for the mouse to hide itself within this desk drawer. I avoided sitting at my writing desk for a few days, due to the fear of disturbing the mouse or its position. The mouse had made it a habit of moving from first floor to ground floor kitchen refrigerator during the night times and staying in the writing desk during the day times without fear of any disturbance from us, the humans.

Using all our wits and with the help of suggestions from various family members and neighbours, we finally hit the jackpot after two weeks of mental torture. We set a fried piece of savoury doughnut snack as the bait in the mousetrap, by dangling it, via the small metal wire inside. The hapless mouse, at last, felt bold enough to try out the tasty snack. This was its undoing. The mouse was finally trapped and the housemaid, the team lead, disposed it off, outside our home. All the team members, heaved a huge sigh of relief and felt good for having trapped a wily house mouse which had eluded capture for over two weeks. The successful team has been disbanded for the time being!

Endangered species

It appears that we modern humans, that is the present-day people living all over the World (‘homo sapiens’), evolved sometime over 200,000 years ago.  This figure keeps on changing with newer research studies!  I think for most part of their evolutionary lives, men and women were purely meat-eaters in their dietary habits! Hunting, gathering and having fun eating all moving creatures that were palatable, and provided sustenance, I guess.    I understand that as a consequence of human migrations into new regions of the world, there has been the extinction of many animal species indigenous to those areas. Human hunters apparently had played a large part in the extermination of large species of animals including majority of the larger ones like mammoths, mastodons, giant sloths, etc. Most of these extinctions apparently occurred within a few hundred years and we humans were very likely the trigger that set off these catastrophic events. I am digressing, this is not a piece about palaeoanthropology. Pulling myself back on track,  I simply wished to point out to my dear readers, that I was born a strict "vegetarian" in my dietary habits (or more precisely a lacto-vegetarian in today’s parlance). Being vegetarian in today’s World has its own kind of drawbacks or disadvantages; to put it mildly, this has jeopardised my place as an honourable member of the society! In other words, due to my vegetarian dietary habits, I had sometimes been an object of ridicule and sometimes made fun of; this is my claim, of course, judging from people’s reaction!

Having stayed in the Middle East for quite a few years, my dietary habits were always a source of discomfort and embarrassment to me. Most of my colleagues at work and friends outside work were strict non-vegetarians! They loved the variety of dishes that were offered in the innumerable swanky Restaurants and were proud of their dietary habits! They happily gobbled up the choicest dishes available from all over the World served in the best Restaurants of that place. One of my colleagues at work always constantly needled me pointing that I was missing out on the good things in life; tastiest and best food in life by following the 'vegetarian' route! After all, what’s the use of living such a miserable ‘vegetable’ life, if you cannot taste the best food the World had to offer to non-vegetarians!

While travelling on Middle-Eastern flights, I have always been rather embarrassed to point myself as a vegetarian to the stewardesses. You see, the stewardesses do not like passengers who disturb their rhythm and create interruptions, while serving/distributing food trays. During one of such flights, I still vividly remember, the beautiful stewardess, giving me a cold stare when I told her that I was a vegetarian and would like a vegetarian meal; she stared at me hard and coldly, I thought; she was hoping that I would soon revise my dietary choice so that she can swiftly get on her way to serve other passengers! I can still feel her chilling looks on me (she wasn’t that beautiful anymore!); looking at me as if I was an alien from another world. I felt more embarrassed as other passengers in my row started staring up at me too with horror, as if I was pointing a loaded revolver at the stewardess! Unfortunately, adding further fuel to the embarrassment was the fact that all the other passengers in my row were of Middle-Eastern origin. I couldn’t find a sympathetic Indian face who could understand my plight and lend me moral support in the situation! I didn’t budge; I gathered all my inner strength and stood my ground repeating my request to the stewardess. I could see the chilly-cum-mildly hopeful expression on her face fall once again; which gradually turned into a stiff forced smile (no doubt, she was trained well by the Airline not to give chilled looks for long, directed towards passengers!); she realized that I was steadfast in my resolve to have a vegetarian meal. However, my beautiful stewardess was made of a stronger mettle; she wasn’t the one to give up the fight so easily. Making a last-ditch effort, she announced that she didn’t have any vegetarian option as it was a short flight. It was my turn to show dismay and we were back to square one. But I too, wasn’t in any mood to give up. Travelling continuously over a period of years, I had gained in confidence and had learnt the art of dealing with ‘beautiful-cum-chilly-looking' stewardesses; I asked her what are the options she had in her ‘pantry’ or whatever they call it on aircrafts. She thought for a moment and told me that she could give me a cake at the most. Getting wary, I instinctively asked her if it was made of egg (I was a strict vegetarian you see!); to which she replied she didn’t know.  Even  I knew rhat cakes have an element of eggs. The stewardess was steadfastly looking at me with piercing eyes now! I could clearly make out that she had her doubts confirmed that here was a specimen from some other planet!

After all, how long can you hold up an airline stewardess, however beautiful she might be to look at; she has to attend to many more passengers! After such high drama in the air, I felt defeat pass over me. I said, never mind, I didn’t want any of the food the airline has to offer. The stewardess moved away serving food trays to other passengers; the smile back on her face. She looked beautiful once again!

I don’t know if my luck had turned on that day! The beautiful stewardess was back in minutes holding out a small pack of chocolates towards me. I gratefully accepted her offer and promptly pocketed it. Being diabetic, I wasn’t supposed to eat chocolates you see, but I had a family which loved any variety of chocolates!

There was another incident that stands out in my memory clearly to this day. We had a party going in our office and many dishes had been ordered from an Arabic Restaurant nearby. The choice of vegetarian dishes was limited, as I was the lone vegetarian in the office. After the food order was received, the dishes were served, spread out on a table. Some of my office colleagues had already started nibbling away at their choicest picks. There was a dish looking very much like an Indian ‘Roti’, that was spread out on a tray. I was looking across the dishes wondering which of the spread was suitable for my consumption. I was trying to determine if it was a plain ‘Roti’ or some stuffed ‘Roti’, perhaps. Making up my mind, I finally zeroed in on one ‘Roti’, which looked quite inviting! I picked it up. Suddenly I heard a voice saying that it was a meat preparation. As quickly as I had picked it up, I instantaneously dropped the ‘Roti’ back in the tray; scrubbing at my hands as if I had touched a hot iron rod! Seeing my reaction, there was shock followed by laugh riot all around. All my colleagues had a field day,  guffawing at my expense. One of my colleagues, of Middle-Eastern origin, felt insulted and announced that he couldn’t eat the stuff after seeing my extreme reaction. I promptly apologised and hurried back to my cubicle. I couldn’t eat any food for the entire day! It was bad behaving the way I did, I had also unabashedly insulted my colleague. I could offer no explanation, other than the lame excuse that I was a vegetarian! As a parting shot, one of my office colleagues, in half jest told me that she would make all out efforts to convert me to eat chicken before I finally left the country. However, her wish remained unfulfilled, as I have steadfastly remained a vegetarian to this day!

During my entire stay in the Middle-East, I have hardly come across a person with strict vegetarian dietary habits like me (including not eating eggs or even onion/garlic), which made me realize that I and some of my ilk were part of a miniscule group of people surviving on their last legs of human evolutionary cycle! In my opinion, the vegetarians could be hardly around 1 or 2% of the World population, if such survey could ever be conducted! Could I take the liberty of mentioning that this tiny vegetarian group of surviving people (or ‘tribe’) is certainly a vanishing species or an endangered one; soon to be named perhaps as, ‘homo-veggy’ or something similar shortly after disappearing from the human evolutionary cycle!

what's in a name?

What’s in a name?

Shakespeare in his famous play ‘Romeo and Juliet’ had said, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet”.  I would say that Shakespeare was far off the mark here! This was after all a play written in the 16th century. Does this line still apply in 21st century? I don’t really think so, judging by my experiences of carrying a name such as mine all through my life!

I was never happy that I had been named ‘Nagaraj’ by my parents. In my youngers days I was always cross with my parents for having been named so. It appears that my parents had offered oblation to the snake god before I was born. This sacrifice had borne fruit in the form of a child and as an offering to the snake god I was named after him. People had all sort of weird ideas, those days. But how can we question faith? 

 It appears that my parents had been childless for quite a few years and so they had been going around visiting all sorts of temples and pious places before they stumbled upon this practice of offering ‘oblation’ to this snake god. Perhaps this snake god was so pleased with their offering that he blessed the couple with a son. This is all fine. My parents had their wish fulfilled, but how were they to know that being named after this snake god would lead to all sorts of experiences, mostly embarrassments, later in my life.

Having the snake god’s name is fine, but I also had another name, ‘Hari Prasad’. This is another interesting story why I was named so. It appears that as part of his daily rituals my father was reading or reciting various chapters from different Vedic manuscripts or texts. While reading a particular chapter named “Harivamsa” from a vedic text, it seems my mother gave birth to me. As the gods had granted my parents’ wish of having a child, they had named me after the chapter in the vedic text. So I was saddled with two names from two different contexts; or was it that both the gods had been so pleased with the devotion of my parents that they decided to join hands with each other in granting their wishes! But the question remained which name would take precedence over the other. Was it that the superior “God” had a precedence over an inferior “God”? I don’t know. It was a just a matter of toss, perhaps? Anyway, the crux of the issue is, I was stuck with the name ‘Nagaraj’ as per official records in the school certificates. Personally, I would have preferred my other name to be incorporated in my school records, but then I didn’t have a choice, did I?

The names that is handed out to their children by their parents is a very curious custom if I may say so. While mapping out my family history recently, I came across a custom that seems to be rather bizarre. My grandfather and great-great grandfather had the same names from my father’s side of my family history. Similarly, in the case of my grandmother too, her father and her great grandfather had the same name. When I delved deep into my family history it came to light that many grandsons were named after their grandfathers, probably to perpetuate their memory. This is also the practice with many western customs including American and British subjects, I understand from Google!

My school name is quite commonly found in Karnataka State. If I were to google my name, the name would gather a million hits. But then all these addresses would be from Southern States only. As long as I resided in a Southern State, there wouldn’t have been any issues connected with my name. In the school I used to be called ‘Naga’ or ‘Raja’ variously by my friends and I didn’t think this was funny. I took it in my stride though I didn’t like people shortening my name.

It was only when I was posted out of the Southern States that things became different. I was working in a Bank in Haryana State in a place called Ambala Cantonment. The local staff would make fun of my name and call me as ‘Snake King’ or ‘Cobra’ and spell it wrongly too either as ‘Nagraj’ or ‘Narraj’. The staff were curious as to why I was named after snakes. One of them had asked me half in jest, if I was from a ‘Snake Charmers’ family? Though I offered an explanation as to why I was named so, I think he was quite convinced that I did belong to a ‘Snake Charmers’ family. Perhaps it was then, it struck me, had I been named ‘Hari Prasad’ I wouldn’t have had to face all the embarrassment.

When I moved to Middle East all hell broke loose! My name became a constant source of embarrassment. You see, Arabic language does not have the alphabet ‘G’. The word ‘G’ is substituted with the alphabet ‘J’. This is the genesis of all problems. When I applied for VISA to this Country, Kuwait, my given name was T Nagaraj S/o Aphale Vasudeva Rao Thothadri as per my Indian Passport. Kuwait Government wants an Arabic translation to be submitted along with the Passport. As per Kuwaiti laws only Arabic translation holds good and English spellings are of no concern to them. They issued a Visa to me with the name ‘Najraj Totadri Vasaudev Apal’ which became my official name as per records. Look at how spellings got changed based on Arabic language translation. This is how Kuwait works, I was told, when I brought this to the notice of Kuwait embassy. Fantastic, who am I to question them.  If I have to stay in their country, I have to follow their rules and customs. Reasonable, right?

As per Arabic custom, a person’s name will be succeeded by his father’s name followed by grandfather’s name and finally by the surname. Great!

This became my official name in the Bank’s records. I was literally reborn here in Kuwait with a new name; to my Arabic colleagues as well as the local people there, I had officially become ‘Najraj’ or ‘Totadri’ or sometimes even simply ‘Apal’. I was apalled, literally.   How did this spelling come into picture. My surname was Aphale.  This was shortened, I suppose.  Anyway, I used to be called variously by different people. In the beginning when some of my Arabic colleagues addressed me as ‘Totadri’, I didn’t quite know that they were addressing me! I realized this later when my Indian colleagues prompted me that I was being addressed to.  Funnily enough, they thought I was dumb or even better, deaf.  Deaf and dumb, rhymes well!

Many a times, Arabic colleagues working in  different Departments used to call me on the phone for various official matters; they used to address me as ‘Mr.Totadri’; it was then that I finally understood, I had officially been reborn in Kuwait with all the above names!

My Indian colleagues in Kuwait used to call me as ‘Snake King’ or ‘Cobra’ once again here. I was ‘Snake King’ to my boss, always. He didn’t address me by any other name. The IT Department head who was an Indian guy regularly called me ‘Cobra’; he used to leave phone messages when I was not there addressed as ‘Cobra’. The name stuck. Initially, all my colleagues in the Office were amused when I was thus addressed. I felt embarrassed too, but once this name got stuck, I was quite comfortable with it! I used to console myself that it was fine as long as I still had a name!

May be, Shakespeare was right, after all, does it really matter if I am called a Snake King or Cobra or whatever. I would always be the same person, no matter what.  After all, my wife had accepted me and stayed married for so many years to boot! Reason enough.