Baba office se aaaaagaye!

Last night, my wife and Ibrahim flew to India for a couple of weeks. My bro-in-law’s wedding next month and she’s gone ahead for the preps. I fly down on 15th July.

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!!!

Joint family

My last post is the catalyst behind this post.

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*

One month old

Ever since we’ve moved into the new house, my family is now split in 2 halves. Me and my eldest bro along with wives and kids are out here in Dubai. While my parents along with my second brother and sister and their kids are in Abu Dhabi. We had to temporarily resort to this setup due to some logistic issues. It is not permanent. Eventually they will move to Dubai and we’ve start living together again.

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 🙂

May 31st

Knowingly or unknowingly, this day has become such a major crossroad for me. Year on year, every 31st May, I wake up with butterflies in my stomach. Always before my alarm rings. On several occasions, I have dreams leading up for this day. I dress up in my best to exude self-confidence. I try not to eat too much or too less. Strong coffee early in the morning and another shot later in the evening. I do a few stretches to keep the body and mind alert all day. Anything to get through this day.

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?

Turning 30

Not just yet but in exactly 6 months from today, I will turn 30. And honestly speaking, I am pretty much freaked out about it. Infact on 1st Jan 2011, the only thing that came to my mind was, this year I am gonna turn 30.

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.

This and that and that too

This is the longest, voluntarily or involuntarily, that I’ve ever been away from my blog. More than 2 months since I last posted. Credit totally has to go to work. Life, quite literally, had turned upside down. It all began on a seemingly boring Monday morning on 10th Jan. That’s the day Oracle decided to migrate its back-end supply chain, order management and quoting tools from the legacy systems to the new system. We were informed before hand. But no one saw this coming. And that’s when the havoc started.

And the sales guys were the worst hit. Every process in the book had changed and as we all know, change is not always easy to accept. A quote which used to take 2 hours to configure was now taking up to 2 weeks! Orders getting cancelled. Escalations all around. Nervous breakdowns. Suicidal tendencies. Threats. Sleepless nights. It was madness personified.

But all this till we ended the quarter. At midnight on 28th Feb, I finished with 115% of my quarter’s target. Despite all the challenges. Life was suddenly beautiful again. This was my first full quarter in my new role and it was absolutely essential that I get to my numbers. A lot was dependent on that.

So when work was taken care off, next on the plate was health. For many years, I have been neglecting a condition that they refer to as DNS (Deviated Nasal Septum). Basically what this means is that my nasal bone, which should have been like a straight “I” was actually a crooked “S”. That is the example the doc used to explain. Solution was a surgery to make it straight. They operate and cut out chucks of bone to open up the space. Apparently, I had a 90% blockage on one side and 50% on the other. Decided its time to take the leap and got my surgery scheduled in India on 15th March. It was a good 90 min procedure in an OT and had to spend 8-10 hours in the hospital. Was discharged by night. Bandages were off the following evening. Its been almost 2 weeks now and I am able to breathe like never before.

Got back from India on 21st Mar and was off to Johannesburg on 23rd. Did they ever tell you that long haul flights are not the best place to be, specially for someone with a busted nose? Well, lets not get into that.

So flew back on Friday night and was back in Dubai early Saturday morning. And here comes the other news. We’ve finally finalized a 5 BR villa in Dubai. With a big freaking lawn at the back, installation for a small pool in the corner, parking for 5 cars in the front and still have enough place to host a 20-20 game! Almost. And we’ll relocate this weekend. It was all done while I was away, either in India or South Africa. So the first thing I did after I land, was to go and check out the villa, at 7 am in the morning, after spending 8.5 hrs on an overnight flight! Yes, that’s how excited I was.

And you know whats the best part? My drive to work takes 7 min and from work takes 4.5 min. JACKPOT! I drove up and down that route 3 times to actually believe it. Well, I knew that when the house was finalized but still. Some things are too good to be true, no?

These are the good things. Do you want to know a really bad thing? My wife and Ibrahim are still in India. They are not with me. Were supposed to come back with me on the 21st. But since I was immediately gonna head for ZA, I asked them to stay back for a week. And a week has passed. Their stay got extended by another week. That really sucks. But then, it was unavoidable. So gotta suck it up.

All in all, its been a mixed last couple of months. But things have gotten better at work. So I have better expectations in the coming months. Some exciting things lined up but lets leave that for another post. For now, its good to be back.

And he turns 2 :)

The first thought that comes to mind when Ibrahim reaches any milestone is the fact that time is flying. Really really fast.

It was Ibrahim’s 2nd birthday yesterday 🙂 My little tiger has turned 2. Since the end of December and specially after new year, all we do is wait for this day. Big party plans, gifts, clothes, cake, decorations, sweets, games, toys etc. And we, more or less, did all this yesterday.

A couple of hours before midnight, I handed him over to my mom and asked her to keep him till we decorate the room. Blew up the balloons, put a big ‘Happy Birthday’ banner on the wall, decorated the whole place and we waited. And kept the poor guy awake well past his bedtime.

Exactly at 12, we casually escorted him into our room. At first, he was a little rattled. Not too happy to see everything changed, balloons hanging from the top, banners and decorations everywhere. But after a while, he got used to it. We sang happy bday over and over again. Eventually had to control our enthusiasm coz he was sleepy and was beginning to get cranky.

In the morning, my wife cooked him his favorite meal – chicken noodles. Not maggi but the real deal. And she prepared a bubble bath for him with his toys and water guns. He spent rest of the day playing around. At around 4 pm, I came home (early) with Dunkin Donuts (another favorite). He quickly gobbled up a donut and fell asleep. When he woke up, we had his gifts ready. We decided to give him 1 gift at a time. And made sure a couple of hours passed before he got the next one.

Ordered pizza from Pizza Hut and some KFC (another favorite). And I got a strawberry cheese cake from Baskin Robbins (favorite again!). Had a hearty meal at home with family and cut the cake. Lots of photos. Lots of fun. Missed a few guys as well. Family was not on full attendance. My sister, hubby and her baby are in India, my elder bro is also in India while my other brother had a planned downtime at work (which he accepted after consulting with me).

Eitherways, we have plans to throw a big bash next weekend when everyone is back. So all in all, it was a great day. Ibrahim had a fantastic time. We made sure everything was as he likes. Now, waiting for round 2 on 27th Jan. Till then, we’ve got another thing to keep us busy.

Our wedding anniversary on the 25th 🙂

Which, thanks to my family, we are celebrating this weekend at the Hilton. My family has gifted us a weekend getaway at the Hilton resort in Al Ain, which is a 2 hrs drive from home. I am so looking forward to this weekend. Will switch of my blackberry. No laptop. No outside world. Just me, my wife and Ibrahim 🙂

Alritey then. Time to head home. See you all next week. Cheers.

A blog post from FB statuses

FB status updates are robbing me on my blog posts. So now I’ve decided to do a post on my last few FB status messages. Something, anything, to get a post going actually.

1 Jan 11: Circle of life – just explained to my 7 year old nephew how to hold a cricket bat correctly, the stance, hands, foot placement etc. 20 yrs ago, his father thought me the same!!

I was so nostalgic that day. My elder bro first thought me how to play cricket. How to hold a bat, how to play my strokes, how to bowl, how to throw, how to field and all this took me to point where I was the winning captain of my college cricket team. 20 years later, I was explaining the same to his 7 year old son while my bro is away in India.

7 Jan 11: Ibrahim had his first real haircut today at a proper saloon. Must say, it was a ‘hair’-raising experience!!! All this while, we use to shave his head off at home. But today, it was all about styling, trimming and setting. And must I say, he looks dashing as ever!

Yes, we finally took him for a hair cut. His 2nd birthday is later this month and we wanted to get him a smart haircut in time for his bday bash. No more bald. No more head shaves. Simple and cute. Really? No way. He gave us hell. Was yelling at the top of his lungs. Donno why he was so scared. Maybe seeing the barker wearing a white robe made him think he was at a clinic. He hates doctors. Not all. My wife is one. But he loves her. That’s coz he doesn’t know she is doc! 😉 OK. So back to the point, I actually had to hold him in my lap while he got his haircut and my wife was entertaining him, singing rhymes, playing videos on her cellphone and god knows what just so that he kept his head still. None of it worked. Infact he didn’t even allow to put that cloth around him. So we eventually got his hair cut without that cloth. 20 minutes of hell. And a few billion hairs all over me. And him. And a busted ear drum. But in the end, it was all worth it. A dashing young man in the making.

10 Jan 11: Spent 3 hours in a queue to get grade 3 admission forms for my nephew. In the end, they were out of forms and gave us receipts against which we could pick up the forms tomorrow. 5000 people lined up for 195 seats. Madness. Some parents were ready to kill, fight, bribe, cry, whatever to get hold of that form. All this with no guarantee of admission. Extraordinary.

This was yesterday. Enough said I think. A friend summarized it perfectly after I thanked him for his help in getting me a form:

“any time bro … but will ask for compensation next time if you send me to face fierce species called parents who can slit your throat for their kids admission :P”

But really, I was shocked seeing the behavior of parents there. Indian High School (IHS) is a renowned and prestigious school in Dubai. And parents behaving like maniacs, freaks, barbarians like its the end of the world. Like those zombies in “Resident Evil” in search of blood. All this when every one was given a token, and there was enough space for all to sit in an air-conditioned hall, with free tea and snacks outside and rest rooms close by. Makes me think about what education can they instill in their kids if they themselves behave like this in the very same school they want their kids to go. Shocking and disgusting.

10 Jan 11: Its time for auto-pilot option in cars. please!!!

This was a desperate plea. To all the inventors and mechanics of the world. Please. Isn’t it time to have auto-pilot in cars? If you can do it for a thing as big as a plane, then why not for a small pesky car? I am sick and tired of driving 250 kms every day. Need a break. Auto pilot will do.

11 Jan 11: Thunder showers all the way from Abu Dhabi to Dubai (but not in Dubai city). Enjoyed my drive to work after a long long time! 🙂

And this was a few minutes back. First rains in UAE. My day was made. Now, can someone please pass those pakodas?

My little fighter

We went to the beach last evening. It was well past sunset. Just wanted to take the kids out for some fun. By kids, I mean my kid and my bro’s kid. Anyways, on our way back, Ibrahim was seated in the baby seat while my brother’s son (Yaser) was next to him. Suddenly Yaser yelled that there is blood on Ibrahim’s foot. My wife quickly turned back to see and, yes, Ibrahim’s left toe had a big blister on it. She quickly cleaned it with a moist cloth and we decided to go home and bandage it. 5 minutes later yaser yelled again, and said, “Ibrahim’s other foot is also bleeding!”. Stopped the car to see what happened. And he had a similar scrub on his right toe as well. He was sitting and driving his little car on the pavement near the beach and must have scrubbed both his toes in the process.

But the most extraordinary part is that Ibrahim didn’t even know about it. He did not cry. He didn’t flinch. He just went about his business as if nothing happened. I was shocked. He is not even 2 years old, busted both his toes while playing and didn’t even realize it. I am so proud of him. That’s my boy. Brave and strong.

Anyways, so late last night, an uncle came to visit us. His 19 yr old son is a professional football player and plays for the under-19 UAE national team and is knocking doors for the senior national team. So quick understandably, he is a football fan. When Ibrahim was not coming forward to greet him, he took a ball and threw it towards him. And boy, did he respond. He kept kicking the ball towards my uncle and uncle kept throwing it back. He kept praising of how much control ibrahim has over the ball and the power in his shots etc etc. Don’t know what Ibrahim figured out of that, the next shot went whistling past my uncle’s head. The one after hit the wall painting. And the next one eventually hit his head before he could even react. To the point that he stopped playing and told me to keep the ball away. And kept looking at Ibrahim. Asked me his age and was like, “How can a 2 yr old kid kick the ball like that, so powerfully?”. Infact we all were a little surprised. And till the time he left, he kept praising him.

But my little kiddo didn’t even know he had stolen the show. He kept kicking the ball with his bruised toes. I can bet he would have knocked down the painting if we’d given him the chance!

I was so proud of him. I have not set any standards or benchmarks for him and want him to be his own man one day. If that means running around with bruises as a 2 yr old then so be it. If that means falling and getting up to fall again then so be it. He is strong brave boy. I know he will stand up again, but only stronger.

Not a day goes by when he has not hurt himself in one way or the other. He stands up, comes over to me, shows me where he got hurt, says ‘eh eh’ till I pretend to heal it by blowing on it, and off he goes again. I don’t even need to touch him.

The other day, while playing ball with me, he banged his head on the edge of my bed and got a big cut on his left eyebrow. It was bleeding and we thought he would need stitches. Yes, he cried. But within seconds, he stopped crying. And wanted me to leave him on the ground again. And off he went, running behind the ball again while he was still bleeding. We quickly cleaned it and took him to the doc. Thankfully the cut was not too deep and didn’t need stitches. He was back home in an hour, with some dressing and ointment, and a big swollen left eyebrow. And that’s it. Not once has he pointed or touched his wound. Or showed any discomfort. The wound has gone now and so has the mark. Quite deservingly I think. With the courage he showed, he did not deserve a physical scar for life.

I can go on and on with stories about him. But enough said I think. I love him for how he is. But more importantly, I am totally proud of him, for being so brave and strong, for being rough and tough, for not being a sissy, a cry baby but a fighter. A real fighter.

p.s. A small request to all. We have decided not to refer to him as ‘Ibbu’ anymore. Our family has a strict tradition of not giving any nick names to kids. Don’t ask my why 🙂 I appreciate and know it is out of love that we all referred to him as Ibbu. Lets stick to Ibrahim from now. Many thanks for understanding 🙂