Inter View: Part One

The last month has been an eye opener for me. It has taught me many lessons. First, my journey to the north. And later, my search for a job. When I first planned to get back to Software last year, I thought that it would take at least 3-4 months to get a job. Anil though was confident that it would take not more than 1-2 months. In the end, both the estimates turned out to be true. Anil got his job in around a month. I am yet to get a job and with my recent performances, it might take a few more months to get it.

Anil quickly started looking at various web portals to check out interview questions and we have asked our old friends and colleagues to forward our resumes to their respective companies. I, as usual, was casual about the process, never making more than one step at a time. The same laziness and unreal confidence I had when preparing for the failed civil service examinations. The same negative and positive thoughts affected my mind, the hallmark of mediocrity. I was totally bought by Anil's opinion that we would get jobs in a month. So hard it turned out to be.

Anil applied to Amazon and got an immediate reply for an interview the next weekend, the same weekend my friend was getting married. I chose to make the northward journey, suggesting to myself that I could apply after some time but my friend cannot marry after some time. That journey is being chronicled elsewhere but I must return to the events after that. After I returned to Hyderabad, I worked on Algorithms a little more and started to look at problems from web portals. Anil told me the questions he was asked at the interview and after thinking about them, I too could give a solution. It made me confident. Most of them were on trees, heaps, string searches and array manipulations. The generic stuff one encounters at entry level programming interviews.

My first interview was for VMWare on phone. I was very tense and he started off by asking a simple puzzle that I remembered solving a few days back. The next two algorithms too were not very hard and I felt I did bad only with the questions related to OOP. After the interview though, I checked out some concepts of OOP for future reference. Overall, it was pretty good. Meanwhile Anil got an offer from Amazon and had his Google interview fast tracked. He is flying to Bangalore to give his interview. I on the other hand had a phone interview scheduled before an on-site interview. I had an Amazon phone interview scheduled in between.

The Amazon phone interview did not start as I wanted it to. That question about trees was quite simple. The best solution, given by Anil after the interview, was to use a recursion on children. But I got confused and gave a solution that includes a map and one pre-processing step. I took almost the entire time for the interview to get to the solution. The process was complicated by the fact that I had to write the psuedo code and dictate it to the person on the other side, who I presume is typing what I was saying. In the confusion, I made a basic assumption for trees which he said should not be done. So I had to change the algorithm to include a pre-processing step that does a DFS on the tree and constructs a map. At the end of the interview, I asked him about a better solution and as far as I can remember his solution was better than mine, but the recursion solution is very intuitive and simpler than that. Even I was disappointed at the solution I gave and actually told him so.

Anil tried to encourage me by saying that my algorithm does something more than that is required and that displays my skill to extract successors in trees which is a little complex to code. I felt better. Now I would like to say, WTF! Two days ago, I was reading an article that made one thing plain. That is "People would give me a job/would like me/would maintain a relationship with me if I have something they NEED. They don't give a damn if I am good to women, a lawful citizen following traffic rules, kind at heart, can write blogs or dream about flying. If they find what they need with me, I get their attention. Else, they do not care. I am what I can give to others, period." If I cannot give the working code to them in the given time, I don't get the job. That is it, final.

I have not thought about it then. There was a glimmer of hope in the darkest corner of my heart. I concentrated more on tree algorithms and have actually started to code in java to get some practice. The Google interview though, could not begin at a bad time. All I got from Amazon that morning was an email sent by changing the name on a pre-prepared draft with a body that feels written by a machine. I felt bad. My ego was hurt so badly. I tried a lot to convert that anger into a motivation to do well in the Google phone interview. This time, I wanted not to make a mess of phone interviews.

The Google interview had its hiccups.

To be Continued.

Man on Earth

When the sun sets deep down
that it may never rise again,
When the stars shine too bright
that we cannot bear the night,
When the Gods look down upon us
with shame and disgust over our deeds,
When the man is so weak and tired
that he cannot lift his own arms,
to look at his bloodstained palms;
Then shall it be clear to him
that he is not alone on this earth
and he alone has ruined this earth.

There and Back Again: Part One

It is when you are faced with events that arise not entirely out of your own actions but are also effected by the unpredictability of future and the arbitrariness of nature; you get to see into yourself, only to find that what lies beneath your hide is as unfathomable as the depths of an ocean wherein lie the fears, charms, deceit and the basic instinct to survive. You discover stranger things about yourself and meet even stranger beings who you find are simply the reflections of your own self; that there is oneness of life in all the beings, the thoughts and aspirations, wants and desperations are present in all of them, just the same. What I have seen and learnt in the last couple of days over a journey spread across the country crossing the barriers of culture, language, location and weather is something I could not have acquired in years had I not done it and one that I must treasure forever.

There and Back Again

The platform is busier than I have expected and I could see that this journey is not going to be an easy one. The waiting list is huge and I think most of them are trying to travel even if they do not obtain any reservation. Winter is coming and it is going to be colder in the north. Yet these people are braving such a weather to reach their destination. That there is only one train from Secunderabad to Patna might be the reason for them taking this hard route. I only want them not to encroach on my berth and seats and I am in no way willing to accommodate them in my seat or berth. I wish the other passengers in my compartment are as selfish and let me be comfortable. After all, this ticket was the result of a coordinated effort spanning two railway reservation centers and two internet booking tries. I am not going to let that go in vain and travel like a waitlisted passenger.

The train is arriving so slowly that I wondered if it is any indicator of what lies ahead. The journeys to the north, especially to Uttar Pradesh are not known for punctuality and it is normal there for a train to be late by a couple of hours. I dreaded what I am going to get into and the worst imaginations have crept into my mind depicting the various ways in which my trip could go wrong. But I have to make this trip for my Bhai and for myself. I pushed aside the mental blockages and moved towards my coach S3. The doors are not open yet and there is a long queue already at the doors. From that sample, I got an idea of how my co-passengers would be and I could not have wished for a worse company. Still, in hope of finding some respite I have checked the reservation chart at the door and found that there are only males in my compartment with exception of an old lady. The case is not any different for the entire coach. Few females of around my age most of whom are getting down in Patna, which indicates the worst choice for me.

I made my way into the coach and am the first one in my compartment to arrive. ‘Travel light’ is my mantra and I have only one backpack which means I can easily put it under the lower berth, right below my seating position besides the window. Before that I wanted to clean the dust off the seats, which are dustier than I expected. The hell with these northern trains, I thought. I have no newspaper or any cloth I could use to clean them. I removed the extra ticket printout I had with me and used to clean my seat area and part of the window to lean upon. Meanwhile my co-passengers have come and they do not look as Bihari as I imagined them to be. Two of them are young just about my age, a middle aged man who looks like a police officer or something with a well-built body, a husband and wife who took their seats on the Side Lower berth and another one who could be working in a private software industry with his modern looking bag and headset.

We have settled into our places when a family of three has entered our compartment. First I thought they are waitlisted passengers, but seems like the parents have come to give send off to their son, who could be of age around 16. From what they are speaking, I can understand that he is going to Varanasi, just like me and is going to meet his uncle for whatever purpose. The father is speaking to the police-like man, asking him to look after his son in case he needs any help. The police-like man is going to Patna and said something to the father that seemed to soothe him. Their dialect of Hindi is not very understandable but I can surely grasp their emotions. The mother is speaking to her son asking him not to get down at intermediate stations and be careful about luggage. When the father is urging her to get down, she held the chin of her son and then kissed it saying goodbye. The boy then turned to his father who is standing outside on the platform. But the mother still is looking at her son, taking a step backwards not at all willing to leave her son. She got down and came to the window and stood beside her husband. The father is speaking to his son, but I could not but observe her, she stood silent, just looking at her son. Her face is portraying a complex array of emotions, a mixture of sadness, unwillingness, fear, anxiety, love and helplessness. She just reminded me of my mother.

I was never good at parting, or leaving my family for studies, work or anything. I tend to finish saying goodbyes quickly fearing that if I stayed any longer, I might cry. I know I am sentimental and it hurts me, how much I try, to take leave from persons I love. That is the reason I try to leave or ask them to leave abruptly to minimize my pain. In any case, whenever I am going away from home, my mother always says goodbye in her characteristic fashion, holding my face, cheeks and chin by her palm and then kissing it. In cases when she came to the station, I see the same emotions that I am now seeing in this mother. These two are physically different, they wear sari differently, but somehow I can feel that they are one and the same – a mother. And when she is parting her son, as the train started moving, I am sure she held that faint drop of tear in her eyes, not letting it out and forced her vocal cords to not let out any cry. As she waved her hands, I could see my mother waving hands at me, when I was going to Kanpur the first time. And now, I am going to North India again and another mother is just doing the same.

To Be Continued.

The Rusting Centrifuge

The more you try the less you feel
It batters you from head to heel
And the only way is to bend and kneel
All you see is the turning wheel…

Don’t delude,
No refuge,
It’s no deluge,
You’re in a rusting centrifuge.

It doesn’t matter now what you think
When you could do nothing but to sink
It’s the stink off your sins; Try not to drink
Mark my words; It only takes a blink
To get the rhyme out of sync

It’s surreal,
It’s so near,
And so clear,
Your end has come here.

You don’t stand a chance yet I tell you this
What goes around just comes around
Life is like a glass; you see what you show
Your time has come to pass
But no one’s gonna say a mass
Your time has come to pass
And no one's gonna say a mass

Don’t delude,
No refuge,
It’s no deluge,
You’re in a rusting centrifuge.

Walking away

Do you see that faint little thing there?
It was bright earlier, though.
Cannot see it? It is a bit far from here.
There, with its back to me.
That's my dream walking away.

I had it since a boy
resting in my memories kindling my thoughts
waking me up daily to a bright sight, that dream.
It was so beautiful then.
It still is, even from a distance.
There, my dream is walking away.

Can you stop it?
Sorry for troubling you, I know you can't.
I tried a lot, I know that now
because it pains a lot.
Could not get a grip on it,
May be I did not try enough.
May be it wanted me to do more.
Whatever, my dream is walking away.

ప్రకృతి కాంత

రుతువులన్నిట ఆమని
ఆమనిలో కోయిల పాట
పౌర్ణమి రాత్రి వెన్నెల
వెన్నెల్లో గోదారి అందం
శ్రావణ మాసపు వాన
వానకై తీతువు తపన
శిశిరంలో చెట్టు బాధ
బాధతో రాల్చిన ఆకులు

ఆ ప్రకృతి కాంత
ఎంత చెప్పినా ఏమి చూపినా
నా తల్లి ప్రేమతో
పోటీ పడలేదు సాటి రాలేదు

Waiting for Monsoon

Plying their trade these trades,
they couldn't come soon for this monsoon;
Drench my thirst, am scorched by sun,
dreaming of you, let jet streams guide you.
 

Unheard Alarms

I heard it today
and also yesterday,
The days before from
the months before.

Doing its job,
never gave a prob.
Shouting all it can
to wake up this man.

It was cut short,
cursed from the heart.
Yet it tried again
many times in vain.

Still it bore no grudge
and not acted like a judge.
Never asked for answers
questioning its purpose.

An ode to all those alarms
I write from heart all that comes
that they did sound and count
O' Unheard Alarms!
O' Muted Alarms!
O' Stopped Alarms!

Shankha Purana

I sat by the sea looking at the ships
Waves covering my legs with sand
and cleaning them back, saying
It's neither yours to take
Nor mine to give.

This was a big wave, reached my hip
but had not taken everything it brought.
There lay between my legs a huge shell,
designed probably by the God himself,
it has many layers and compartments.
A prototype of a palace.

I tried to handle it, but it slipped.
The mollusc is still alive, I thought.
It tried to get back to sea and
I started to pursue it, but
Sand is different from sea.

It tried to run, walk and roll
but the sand did not help,
even the waves did no favor
and the little one seemed tired.
It just stopped.

I picked it up to see the mollusc,
but it is dead the little one.
So huge is the shell, hard to believe
it is built by such a little one.
That poor one wanted to get back,
Why? To protect herself, or this beauty?

In no time I had the answer,
the poor one is not the only one
in the shell, something is moving inside,
Who? The Queen of the Palace?
Or some sand that intruded?

There it was, finding its way
between the rooms of the castle,
the magnificent one,
finally jumped onto my palm.

Is it a fish?
No, the shape is too flat.
Is it an insect?
But has no legs or wings.
What is it?

It began to tap a part of it
repeatedly, onto my palm,
as if trying to say something.
Whatever it is, it needs water.

Not wanting to leaving it in sea,
I took it home with me to see.
I put it in my aquarium
near a mound of sand and weed
and went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up,
but where is the magnificent one?
Not near the mound, nor the weed
Did one of the fish eat it?
Damn those fish.

Wait, what is that, that new fish?
I don't remember seeing it earlier.
Is that the one? Is the one a fish?
Possibly, I thought and left for the day.

Next morning I had another surprise,
now the fish is gone and there is it!
The small turtle in my tank!
Walking, swimming and feeding on the weed.

Shocked, I checked the Net, but
Turtle's larva is not a fish!
I might know what's going on,
but that was to be the final reason!

I thought I would give it a day,
and it did confirm my hunch.
The next morning in my house,
I have a pig, playing with my football.
And I began to trust in God.

Something told me I had to be careful,
For I know what is next in line.
Next morning, I had a lion evolved
and I had to close my doors
and live on the attic, fearing for life.

It is one of the peaceful, the next morning,
a small boy came to me when I woke up
and I spent my day playing with him.
But he liked keeping his feet on my head
and I am confused whom I should pray,
God or Him?

The next morning, I had a man with an axe
standing at the gates and shouting at people.
When asked why, he called them sinners
who must be killed to purify this earth.
I pleaded him to get back inside and he obliged.

Here is a man so obedient and passionate,
filled with kindness and empathy,
who followed my every order and called me father!
He strove for perfection in every act and
at the end, befriended a monkey.

I woke up in the morning to the calls
of my neighbors pounding the door
complaining about the boy stealing their milk.
I defended my boy but Oh God!
He is a difficult one to get hold of!
I lectured him about good and bad,
but he struck it off saying
"I am right and I am wrong,
I am the Subject and I am the Object,
And I am the Verb!"

Next day, a sagely figure is in my house,
one who called me by my name, and said,
"Gautama, Drop your material wishes,
Follow the path of righteousness,
Dharmo Rakshati Rakshitah"

I know not what is next, nor does any
so I could not sleep well that night.
When I woke up, my room felt so bright,
I cleared my eyes again and again
but the light is all pervading.

I tried to make my way to the source,
and there I could make out a horse,
with wings and man with a sword on it.
I called him, "O Magnificent One!
What are you? What is the reason?"
He replied but I see not His lips moving,
"Gautama, come, Lets go home."

And as I neared the horse, I was pulled
into the source and it came upon me
that I left my body and am one with Him.
I felt it all, whatever it is all.

The horse started to move up into the sky
and He waved the sword towards earth
and the land below me began to crumble,
I can see earthquakes, volcanoes erupting,
great forest fires consuming animals, people,
buildings and all the civilization as I have known.

I asked Him, again,
"O Magnificent one, What is the reason?"
and thus He spoke,
"Do not worry, O Soul!
This is neither the end nor the beginning,
Or either the end or the beginning,
It is going on before you,
and will go on after you."

"It is not yours to worry about,
it is not mine to take away,
Whence it started, I cannot definitely say,
Or am I the origin, I cannot definitely say.
I perform my duty, so does you."

I thought about it, and asked again,
"O Magnificent One, I still do not understand."
Then I felt a great pain crushing me,
I cried, "Do not punish me,
I shall try to understand"
But it did not stop, after a while,
I lost my consciousness.

I woke up again but it feels different,
I have a body, but it is odd.
I cannot see myself.
No, I am not blind.
I looked around.
And I found the reason.
I am a mollusc.

I cursed out loud, "Why?
O Magnificent One, why?"
Something replied,
"Life, O Soul, is a question,
I, O Soul, am the answer.
As long as you do not understand me,
you must live."

And the mollusc started building a shell around it.

Treasures

Sun and Moon rise everyday,
shining over the world night and day;
They may not know their purpose,
of which we are fully conscious;
That they are their own purpose.

My poems may seem nonsense,
but it is to you they make no sense;
You may not get their meaning,
but like Sun and Moon,
they are their own meaning.

I need not your appraisal,
nor your nod for their survival;
Because they are my treasures
and under Sun and Moon,
I shall guard my treasures.

That Moment

That moment when a win tastes bitter
That moment when dawn feels like dusk
That moment when everyone sees a victor in you,
but all you see in the mirror is an ashamed loser;
That moment when you reach a mountain base
yet have great heights and fears to surpass;
That moment when you clear the Prelims,
only to remind that you have failed Mains twice.

The Phoenix Must Die

These are turbulent times.
Old and new clashing inside the head.
What was, versus what must be.

I have nowhere to go.
No one to feel my pain, some just talk.
Yet, I try not to complain.

There is confusion.
I have to make a choice soon, this or that.
And that adds to confusion.

I must learn from the past.
Still, must forgo the past for the future.
They are just incompatible.

I love myself so much.
Love my image, my name and all my past.
I think people respect me.

I was what I wanted.
But I want something more, an extra mile.
I'm trying, or I think I do.

I fear I'm losing the plot.
The fear is gripping me, paralyzing me.
What if I fail that name?

It's hard to fake life.
When I'm just surviving under a dark shadow.
Of the Frankenstein of my name.

What's in the name, anyways?
Just a reward from a blind judge.
It can always be rebuilt.

Never say die.
But one way or the other, I see death.
Of my past, or of my future.

I have thought it through.
One of them must be killed, Alas!
One of them must be killed, by me!

Yes, I must kill myself.
For a short-lived glory of perfection.
Or for a rebirth into the future.

The Remnants of a REM sleep

We were thirsty. Anil pointed to a house and said, “Let’s go there.” A young lady met us at the house. She looked extremely familiar and in no time I showed the intimacy towards her. She brought out an old vehicle, which looked like a moped given away at a junkyard. The front wheel is intact but the back is battered as if a lorry had hit it. Anil started repairing it so that we can go. I went to talk to her. Then I saw a few people coming towards the house. Couple of them went directly inside. One was drinking water. Another washing his legs under a pump. She moved her eyeballs in the direction of a grossly bearded man, tall enough, sitting on a sofa and said, “That’s my father.” I went to Anil and told him, “That’s her father.”

I came back to my room. It had been a long journey. Man, it’s so sultry in here. Summer in a penthouse! I was reaching for the cupboard when suddenly two men rushed into my room. They were looking at the room and checking its dimensions, discussing among themselves if it’s suitable to them. I was shocked by their entry and discussion. I asked them what were they up to. They came to check out the next room, but it’s locked. So when someone told them that my room was identical, they came in to look. I informed them, “No. My room is larger on this side. The other room is more longer that way.” And then suddenly, the room started to subside on my side. I shouted, “Is it earthquake?” The room stopped at an angle and started to move at a great speed. I crouched and held on to the cupboard walls, not knowing what to do. The building seemed to be collapsing, but my kinetic sense said I was moving horizontally. Confused, I asked, “What’s happening?” They said, “The entire house is moving, as if it had wheels! And it is moving very fast!” I looked out through the window. The building was indeed moving, through the city. Buildings were collapsing on all sides, very fast, as if someone was grinding and spinning them. It was chaotic out there. The entire city got destroyed. All I could see was piles of concrete and steel and cement. Dust everywhere. It’s very hazy too. The speed was unbearable. Why is everything spinning so violently? Then it stuck me. “We are travelling in time”, I shouted at them. 

We arrived at the station, but the train did not slow down. I saw the name of station written in Devanagari and Oriya scripts. I thought, “We might be somewhere in Orissa.” God, what’s happening! Those two were missing and all I could think was of the devil. Then I saw a man entering with a trolley from the other side and all my hopes came back. I am not alone! A woman too followed him. She walked past me. I couldn’t resist but to follow her. Something was dragging me towards her. She’s probably taking me to the next coach. But I was in my room and there is no train nor any coach! She turned back. And there came the devil. 

I woke up perspiring. Where had Anil been to? I grabbed my toothbrush on the chair and went out. And there I saw some white thing, a rocket or a missile or that Discovery space craft falling from sky towards me. It seemed to be in control of itself and it seemed not. Just when I thought it was going to hit me, it maneuvered around me. I wanted to take a pic. I don’t see space ships on my terrace everyday. I tried to click, but something in me stopped. “Dude, not that trigger, you’ll blow up the ship. What are you thinking with a rocket launcher in your hand?” Oh God! I looked at my hand again, it’s only a kitchen lighter, not a rocket launcher. I went inside hurriedly to grab my camera. While coming out, I found that it’s not camera I was holding but Vicks Vaporub. Where the hell is my camera? I went out just when the space craft hit the parapet wall of my house and jumped on to the blue plastic rooms of Howard Public School. With that velocity, both the wall and the school rooms were turned into rubble and dust. It then flied, as if it is in control and as if it is not. I looked at it for some time and then turned back. There I saw a bigger space ship, more like a battle station aground or on the ground, besides the neighboring apartments. It’s making a huge noise. These machines did not seem to be of an alien origin, more like US built. May be they were testing their advanced weaponry and battle strategies and they went disastrously wrong. I went inside my room and looked out through the window. The sky was overcast, full of darker than dark clouds. There’s no sign of rain though. No lightning. No thunders. Just plain dark clouds.

The world outside looked so calm and peaceful when the world inside was destroyed and devastated.

Or is it the other way round?

Toorpu Velle Railu

జీవితం, రైలు.
రైలు, జీవితం.
చీకటిని చీల్చుకుంటూ పొగని వదులుతూ
ప్రపంచాన్ని వెనక్కి నెడుతూ కదులుతుంది ఈ రైలు.
ఈ తూరుపు వెళ్ళే రైలు.

తనకు దారి మనమే చూపినా
తనదారి తనదే అనుకుంటూ
పరిగెడుతుందీ రైలు తన గమ్యం చేరేవరకు
ఈ పట్టాల మీది రైలు.

పోటుగాడిలా వేగం వున్నా
పిల్లవాడిలా వణుకుతుందీ రైలు
ప్రపంచమంతా తిరగగలిగినా
ఇంటిగడప ముందు సిగ్గుపడుతుందీ రైలు
ఈ వంద గిల్లల రైలు.

లక్షలాదిని మోసే రైలు కోటి ఆశలకు పచ్చజెండా రైలు
నా జీవితాన్ని ఎటు తిప్పుతుందో
ఈ ప్రయాణం ఏ కలల చెంతకో
తనకు మాత్రం తెలుసా
ఈ బ్రతుకుతున్న రైలు.