It started with my biggest ever paycheck. Modestly speaking, I did a fair amount of business over the last few months. And had held back my commission for a few months to pick it up in one go. So yes, that way, I was a rich man last week. But that was till I bought my car! Picked up a Lexus ES350, pearl white, V6, 3.5L, 272 hp @ 6200 rpm, leather seats, keyless entry, bluetooth bla bla bla. The only thing not there is a navigation system and rear camera. Everything else loaded.

So yes, I am now a proud owner of a Lexus. And while I was finalizing the purchase and car transfer, I got an email from my boss with the official announcement on my long-awaited promotion! Well, not too long actually. It was under discussion only since the last 4 months and she made it happen. I now have 6 guys reporting into me. Not bad at all.

A good week. No, a great week. And I thought that was the end of it. But no. Out of sheer luck, I managed to get tickets (FINALLY) to see the great ROGER FEDERER in action LIVE. And not just some game but the semi-finals of the Mubadala World Tennis Championship in Abu Dhabi. He was playing against the world # 1 Novak Djokovic. Anyone who knows even a teeny veeny bit of me knows that I am a cult follower of Federer. He is my absolute hero. And to finally see him barely 15 mts from me, was my biggest dream come true. A big check on my bucket list. Ofcourse, it did not help my enthusiasm that he lost badly. But all was well when I managed to get his autograph of my cap!!!

My purpose in life is complete.

Well, not quite actually. I need to see him win a match. And then a championship. And then regain the world # 1 rankings!

Anyways, such is the nature of us humans. Never satisfied with what we get. Till a week back, all I could think of was when am I gonna buy a car, where is my promotion, when will I ever see Federer etc etc etc. And exactly 7 days later, here I am.

2011 for that reason has been a super year. Almost everything that I slogged for through the year, came out OK by year-end. Actually by the last week of the year.

So here’s wishing everyone a very happy and prosperous 2012. Never stop dreaming. Never stop believing. Have a fantastic year. Cheers.

Why the sudden recollection today? Well, before we took off for our honeymoon after the wedding, we had spent a day in Bangalore on transit. This was just to clear out some pending paperwork with my old employer and some bank formalities to be settled. Later that night, I took my wife around to my favorite restaurant for dinner and to Corner House for ice cream, obviously! It was well past mid night that we were on a way back to the hotel. Early next morning was our flight to Malaysia.

So our on way back to the hotel, we were passing by the locality where I had stayed for 2 years. And my wife insisted on seeing the area and the bungalow atleast. Ofcourse the flat was probably rented out to someone else. Anyways, we got to the house and just as we were about to leave, I noticed that the gate was not locked. So like ‘chors’, we entered through the gate tip-toed and went to the second floor to my flat. That was locked. Then we went to the terrace. And that is where I think I spent the best 10 mins of my married life. Now, don’t get your dirty minds working overtime!!!

Back in my courtship days, I used to spend hours talking on the phone with my then fiancee. And most of the time, I used to be at the terrace. I had a few specific places where I would sit and talk talk and talk some more. And I used to tell her about the lovely sunset, the views, the greenery, the amazing Bangalore weather and so on. But when I had relocated, I never thought I would ever get a chance to come there with my wife, to the exact place where I had spend a good part of 8 months talking to her during our courtship days. Infact since that day, I’ve not gone back to Bangalore. It’s been close to 4 years now.

But as fate would have had it, just when we were beginning our lives together, I managed to spend some precious moments with my newly wed wife and share the experience of how and where I was, when I first fell in love with her. I say ‘first’ because that was not the last time I fell in love with her.

Today I recall that day and my heart fills up. Those 10 minutes at the terrace at 2am in the night, strolling around hand in hand, cool February breeze, not a soul in sight, only the sound of leaves rustling with the wind and talking about how it all began, ranks right up there amongst the most memorable and fulfilling moments of my life!

Being a coffee lover (and I cannot help it. I was born on International Coffee Day), I look at them with pride. A fellow coffee-fanatic I think. A quick nod of approval when we cross-paths. Even if I don’t know the person. But we have something in common.

But I now realized how naive I was. It was all fake.

Because that Costa or Starbucks cup does not really contain coffee but MILK. They go over to the coffee shop, pick a glass for 1 buck, pour a glass of fresh milk into that and walk around all day with that cup in hand, pretending to be sipping coffee and enjoying it.

So the illusion is that he/she is a loyal coffee fan but in reality they are just trying to show off. Honestly, I really dont have a problem with that. But what worries me is why would someone wanna do such a thing? Go to such lengths just to prove a point or try to fit in? To flaunt a brand? Is it that important in today’s world to spend 1 buck for an empty cup and another buck for a bottle of milk and have you ‘coffee’ for 2 bucks instead of the actual price of 15 bucks or so?

Why do people need to resort to such tactics? I have no idea. Maybe they are just too insecure about themselves. I know it looks good, that cup of Costa or Starbucks in hand. But do people drink that coffee just because it looks good? I don’t think so. Any coffee lover will say that it is the coffee, the aroma, the taste that gets them hooked to it. But these guys are hooked to that paper glass!!!

But just because I have been thinking of it quite a bit, I also tried to recall some memorable celebrations I’ve had in the last 29 years. Honestly, the first one that comes to mind is my 10th birthday. Back in the days, we didn’t celebrate birthdays with too much pomp. Just went to school with a box of chocolates. Stood in front of the class while everyone sang ‘happy birthday to you’, distributed sweets and that’s it. Ofcourse, I kept aside some extra chocolates for my best friends. Anyways, on my 10th bday, dad mom decided to have a big bday bash. So about 20 of my classmates, neighbor friends etc were invited home, lots of decoration, lots of food and we had a super time. I still remember a lot about that day. And many gifts. One of my closest friends back then gave me a video cassette of ‘Twenty thousand leagues under the sea’. I still have it. But don’t have a VCR to play it! But the standout bday gift was the one given by my family. In a box as big as me, they filled it paper and god-knows-what and inside there some where was the gift. They bought me a wireless remote control car. 20 years back, that was a novelty. I also remember the price. I cost a fortune. I was so overwhelmed that I rarely played with it. Only opened the box, cleaned the car, replaced the batteries, drove it around for a minute and neatly put it back. Into the top closet where no one could reach it. We didn’t have rechargeable batteries also. So if I spent more than 15-20 min, the batteries would dry out. And buying new ones, obviously, cost a lot. But those were the days. I was on top of the world. Nothing could be any better.

The next memorable bday was my 17th one. The last with my school mates. Before we traveled all over the world for higher education. We had no clue what life had in store for us. And if we would ever meet again. So that year, everyone celebrated their 17th bday grandly. I hosted my party at a high-end restaurant, booked a banquet hall, buffet, music, dance floor…the works! It was awesome. Ofcourse no booze. And because we were older teens, we behaved. That was the most fun I’ve had ever. Even till date. We partied till late in the night. It was perfect.

Part 2 tomorrow. Cheers.

Regular followers and readers of this blog have always stated that my best posts were on my son Ibrahim and my experiences as a father. Ibrahim is two and a half years old now. And though I still enjoy and relish this wonderful feeling of being a parent, I have gotten used to it now. And with Ibrahim getting mischievous with each passing day, most of my time now goes in stopping him and telling him what’s right or wrong. He still is a darling. And my only regret with him is when I have to scold him about something. Poor guy hugs me and cries. Heartbreaking but necessary for a balanced upbringing. Sometimes I wonder if I am expecting too much out of him? He still is only 2 n a half yrs old. Cannot expect him not be naughty. Infact I would be worried if he did not break stuff or be noisy or make a mess. Where do we, as parents, draw the line between parenting and pampering? Yet to figure this one out. I think I am mostly laboring, rather unnecessarily, in the parenting space than the pampering space.

What effect does too many ‘NO’ have on a child? Does it curb his natural instincts? Would it stop him for doing something creative just because he may get ‘yet’ another NO from his dad or mom? We have always tried to give a healthy, balanced environment for him to grow. But it is the nuances of life that end up dominating our reactions. Sometimes we may react harshly just because we had a lousy day at work. That is where I expect to balance myself. He should receive only what he deserves. Good or bad. Not more. Not less. That is what I am going to strive for. Balance.

We have four other kids in the house. Even that makes a big difference. Mostly in a good way. Though sometimes we have to scold him for being over-enthusiastic with his siblings. Ibrahim has an aggressive way of expressing his emotions. He will hug you but tightly, he will kiss you but strongly. And then there is the sibling rivalry. Everyone wants that one toy. Nevermind if there are 10 other toys like that lying around. They still want that one which the other is holding. A lot of our time is spent in just monitoring and mostly stopping him from doing things coz it may result in hurting his siblings. Sometimes it worries me. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? I know it is always healthy to have kids around kids. But like I mentioned earlier, it also means over monitoring and over caution!

I think all I need is more patience. Kids are kids. They are going to get on your nerves. Like it or not. With a little more patience, I may be able to balance my reactions, both good and bad. And maybe then I can claim that I am half-good as a father. He may start kindergarten (or nursery) this coming April so that automatically reduces our time with him. What I  really want is him to be ready. Not academically. Let the teachers handle that. But I want him to be ready psychologically. To be bold and strong. And not be scared of bullies. I want this because I know he has some weird fears and phobias. And always seeks confirmation on things before doing anything (Not when he is onto something naughty or mischievous. That he does without a hint of doubt).

Or maybe I don’t need to do anything at all. I may just be reading too much into this. I am not sure. That’s for sure.

And the worst thing when she travels is the-coming-back-home-from-the-airport part. It is depressing to say the least. Empty seat next to me and empty car baby seat in the rear! And when you reach home and enter the bedroom, you see last minute stuff lying around, leftovers of the packing, packets, shopping receipts, Ibrahim’s toys which he could not take like his bicycle that he tried to fit in his bag, some of his clothes etc. Entering the room and picking up bits and pieces of the people who just left is painful. Even if it is just for 15-20 days. You somehow muster courage and clean up the place, put things back where they belong etc. All is in order? No. You start thinking about the day and the first thing that comes to mind is ‘why the hell did I scold Ibrahim when he was playing in that muddy water in the garden?’ or ‘I should not been hard on him when he dropped all the honey on the table’ or ‘I should have been more understanding when he was crying because he wanted to come in my arms!’

I always have regrets as soon as he goes away. It is painful enough not being around him but its the guilt that makes it harder. I know Ibrahim is going to miss me but what I also know is that I am going to miss him more. Does he know that?

He gets every bit of attention at his maternal grandparent’s place. They totally absolutely adore him. Plus there is a wedding in the family now. His eldest mamu is getting married next month. And I have no doubt whatsoever that the center of attraction will not be his mamu but it will be him.

He turns 2 and a half yrs old next month. Is talking freely. Able to express his thoughts comfortably. Is aware of what is right and wrong. But like all kids, always borders the wrong. Does not think twice before showing his affection. Be it with his siblings or the adults. Touch sensitive though. Does not forget things easily. Goes away from you if he does not get the attention or if he gets a scolding. Hates haircuts and birthdays! Yes, you read it right – he hates celebrating birthdays, his or others immaterial. Thinks we are going to eat out everytime we step out of the house. Loves his baby seat and always shifts loyalties of his favorite vehicle on the road – from cars (bhoom) to bus to trucks (tuks) to bikes and now his fantasy is the’ aeloplane’!

And regardless of where he might be in the house, as soon as he sees me or hears me come home after work, his face glows up, gives a big smile, starts jumping excitedly and comes running to me saying ‘Ibamin ke baba aagaye, ibamin ke baba aagaye’ (Ibamin’s baba has come). And a few seconds later, “Baba office se aaaaagaye” (Baba has come from office).

This is what I will miss the most. And that’s the reason why I am still in office and don’t feel like going home tonight!!!

Over the years, I’ve been pretty vocal on this blog about my joint family status. For the uninitiated, I live with my parents and rest of my family which includes 2 elder brothers and a younger sis. All married and with kids now. Yes, my house is a riot at all times. Why do you think we moved into a villa then? Driving through the main gate into the car park, the only thing we need to dodge is the cricket bat, tricycle, wickets, balls, dolls, toy cars etc. Oh, and sometimes, the kids!

And like all joint families, we’ve had our challenges. Some tough days. Some days when all hells breaks lose. Days when looks like there is no tomorrow. Days when we could break off…

Who gets the bathroom first? Who gets the best couch and remote? Fighting for your life to get that last gulab jamun. Getting a shirt from the laundry only to see someone else wearing it the next morning. Dodging glaring stares from parents on buying that branded jeans. Deciding which restaurant to go to celebrate someone’s birthday. Passing the grocery list to one another. Selective amnesia when asked for last month’s credit card statement. Who gets the largest pizza slice or the last one? Which movie to watch? Who takes the car out from a proper parking on a busy evening? Deciding who all go to the airport to receive someone? And so on.

Yes, these are our challenges. What were you expecting?

Maybe that’s why we are able to stick it out. To hang in there. Life is not easy. We wake up each morning, go through the rounds and before you realize, day is over. What do you think makes the day worthwhile?

Is it a fancy car or clothes or working in a plush office? A six figure salary? Yes, these things make life better and comfortable.

But it is the sight of my family at the end of the day makes this life COMPLETE.

Walking in after a tough day at work and seeing kids (not just my kid but my brother son and his year old daughter, my sister’s year old son and my other bro’s new born). Talking (read: cursing) about work at the dining table with my brothers. Teasing my sis-in-laws. Specially their cooking.

My mom and seeing that loving smile on her face. And her undying affection for us. Each one of us. Complaining in front of her about anything and everything because she is the only one who will always find you right.

My dad and his undying trust and support. Our discussions with him. About the future. About investments. About life in general. And about his worries on our increasing expenses!

Would I trade this for anything else? Would I want this in any other way?

There is no secret behind a successful and happy joint family. In the end, it is only about how badly you want it. Not just for yourself but for others. True there is the odd hustle. Arguments. Misunderstandings. Complaints. Sacrifices. It is how these issues get resolved. It is how best you can rise after you fall.

I am not vouching for it. Nor recommending it for anyone. Circumstances result in decisions. Decisions lead your life.

We took a decision. We made a choice. And we are working to keep it that way. All of us.

And that’s why I am so proud of my family. *TOUCHWOOD*

Anyways, one of the disadvantages of not living together is not being able to be there with everyone, in good or bad. We have been aware of this fact and have tried our level best to maintain some kind of balance.

But when stuff like last evening happens, I feel proud. And lucky to be part of such a family. Yesterday, my second bro’s son turned 1 month old. We all were on a group chat on WhatsApp from our respective cellphones all day discussing what cake to order and having a ball pulling each other legs. But that seemed incomplete. We were missing everyone.

So what did we do?

We drove 125 km to Abu Dhabi after work just to have cake with the family. And celebrate the little one’s first milestone. And got back home before midnight.

Many happy returns of the day to the little one. He turns 1. One month

For the last 6 years.

You guys must be wondering what is today?

For the initiated, today is last day of Oracle’s fiscal year.

And anyone who knows anything about sales, including only the spelling, will know that for any sales guy, last day of the financial year is more important than his death day.

All said and done, financial year ending is probably the most stressful time for any professional. Not just in sales. I definitely have pity of the finance dudes. You guys are more miserable on that day than anyone else.

Year on year, quarter on quarter, month on month, week on week, sales guys keep pegging for that target. I, for one, have only one tangible target each year. You guessed it. My sales target. My quota. My numbers. Nothing else has more importance than ‘the numbers’. Like my ex-boss once said, “You only don’t come to work if you are dead. Period”. Relevance? If you haven’t hit your numbers, you don’t come to work the following day, doesn’t matter if you’re dead or not.

I’ve had some exceptional years and some really forgetful ones. Infact only 1 forgetful one. This was last year. For 4 consecutive years, I hit my numbers irrespective of the team, products, timelines or target given to me. But last year was the worst. Regardless of whatever I did, I just could not get there. Infact I could not make it half way even. Strange but true. Yes, the recession, change in company policies etc did not help. But no excuse. I missed my numbers.

So I was doubly careful this time around. And add to that, new team, new products, new territory, new (read: higher) targets.

And thankfully, I did not have to come to work today thinking where my next deal is coming from. Or how I am gonna hit my numbers. That’s coz I already did that. Three weeks back.

But even then, 31st May still has a weird, eery, freaky feel to it. Not till the fat lady sings they say. Come midnight I will be singing. Will a fat man do?

I was always very proud of my twenties. So many milestones were achieved in these last 10 years. And hence, it was quite expected that I was gonna have a tough time forgoing that part of my life. And in exactly 6 months, I will have to do just that.

When I think of turning 30, suddenly, I feel old. And mature. And responsible. 20s is a time of rashness and brashness. And all the immaturity in the world. You can get away with anything. Health is on your side. Maybe some wealth. Life is shining with everything lined up in front of you. Somehow I don’t have the same amount of enthusiasm about the 30s. Its like, all the things that were supposed to happen, have happened in the 20s. 30s is just gonna be an extension of what has already happened. Gosh, what’s gonna happen to me when I turn 40!

So that, in many ways, sums up how depressive I am gonna be on 29th Sep 2011. And on all the days leading up to it.

But I refuse to let the last 6 months of my 20s go in cribbing, complaining and crying. No sir. I am going to make the most of what’s lined up. I had a set of resolutions when I turned 25. Most of them have been accomplished, except ofcourse about becoming a millionaire. But lets revisit that point again in 6 months!

For now, I am vowing to change things. Change myself. There is a lot I want to do. Like buy a new car. We are moving into a new house so that’s done. Spend more time with my family. With 2 hours of drive time down the trash, I may have that one too. Big question mark on my health. That’s the REAL bummer. I have to, absolutely have to, lose atleast 10 kg. Have to visit Italy. Meet Roger Federer. Try different cuisines. Spend as much time as possible with Ibrahim. On his parenting and upbringing. He starts with school next April. I want to get closer to God. And my faith.

I want a revamp. And I want to do it in the next 6 months. Nothing overnight. Nothing temporary. Slow and steady. One thing at a time. And I will start with health. That’s my number 1 priority.

Oh, I forgot to add 1 more point that I wanna do before I turn 30. See India lift the cricket WC. Playing Pakistan tomorrow in the semis. I don’t mind losing the WC but I.JUST.CANNOT.SEE.INDIA.LOOSE.TO.PAKISTAN. In a WC on Indian soil. No way. Bleed blue. Bleed red. Bleed whatever you want to bleed but trash the Pakis.

Go India.