Leaving Houston

For the 3rd time in last 4 years, I had to prepare myself for another move (Leaving SCE, Leaving Los Angeles). Leaving a place behind always brings about mixed emotions. On one hand, it is disheartening to leave familiar surroundings & good friends behind; On the other hand, more often than not, a move always signals progress towards better things in life. Despite the reason for the move it is always a painful process to leave a place behind.

When I moved to Houston a little over 2 years ago, I was dejected. It took me months, if not a year, to overcome the pangs of separation from Los Angeles. I hated the city and the views of the people. In absence of beautiful mountains and ocean, the locals talked about church and food all the time. I yearned for the weather and the scenery of California and wished I would move out of this town as soon as possible. My liberal views were pitted against the ultra conservative views of this Republican Heartland. At most times, I kept my views to myself, lest I get shot in this NRA's paradise.

But political views aside, Houston began to grow on me. Coming from LA, the thing which appealed to me the most was the cost of living. I paid less than half the rent I paid in Los Angeles and still got a much bigger apartment in a much better neighbourhood. I even joked to my friends in LA that 'why should I pay and park when I can valet for free'. The gas is cheap, the food is cheaper and the drinks are the cheapest of all major cities. Unlike other big cities, there are no cover charges in the upscale clubs and lounges. In short, Houston offers all the comforts and attractions of a big city, but at half the price. In presence of the booming Energy and Medical industry, the city is super wealthy too. It boasts of some great landscaped neighborhoods and houses the size of mansions. Despite my hatred for the republican government, I couldn't stop liking the Texas style of governance. With zero state income taxes, the state boasts of one of the best infrastructure in the country. The wide open lanes of Katy Freeway were a farcry from the traffic logged congested lanes of 405 in West LA.

After living in the east coast and west coast, the gulf coast wrought in a totally new culture and lifestyle. Texas has a unique culture and the virtues of this culture could be understood and endeared only by experiencing it. The people in South are nice and never too busy to engage in a conversation with an outsider. The legendary "Southern Hospitality" can truly be experienced in Houston. Words like howdy, bubba, gumbo, bayou, crawfish boil, y'all would never have meant much to me if I had not lived in Houston....and its these words, the stories behind them and their experiences which have enriched my life and helped me add new dimensions to my personality.

Part of my Houston experience was shaped by my work. Houston boasts of some great restaurants and the perks of my job profile allowed me to make the most of these nice restaurants. Houston location as Continental Airline's hub coupled with my incessant travelling for work and pleasure earned me many upgrades and ensured that I would travel as an elite member for atleast a while. Also, the cheap cost of living in Houston helped me save enough to plan my vacations internationally!

I leave Houston today with a very heavy heart. Houston gave me some great friends - many of them, I hope to stay in touch for the rest of my life. With my bent towards a career in Energy Industry, I definitely hope to return to this city in the future.

A Discombobulated Mind!

The Natural Order
"Water, No Ice!"
Memorial Drive
ROMM - The Hypocrite
Empty Calories - Beverages!
GOOG

....these are 6 blog titles that lay one below the other on my notepad. On some I have written a paragraph or two, on others there is merely an exclamation mark or apostrophe. Concrete ideas hatched during daily chores have somehow completely eluded me, as I sit down to elaborate on them. Its a shame! Well conceived ideas have been dealt a cruel blow, courtesy a disfunctional, utterly distracted cranium. As soon as I string together a nice train of thought, it seems to be derailed by a myraid of parellel corruptive opinions.

Is it ADD ? Is it just me or is it the Technology ? As I reflect back nostalgically, to a time when I was in high school being capable of sitting 2 hours or more non-stop poring over my science text-books, I wonder whats gone wrong? Is it just an inefficient aging process undergone by all and sundry or is it the ushering of new age of technology and distraction? Looking back at those high school days, there was no internet, the cable had 2 channels and both of them showed mundane melodrama of ladies clashing with their in-laws. Even the news would focus on pertinent, but boring, issues like a visiting foreign dignitary than something sleazy like the "accidental" slip of Janet Jackson' bra during the Super-Bowl. With minimal intervention of technology, things were tranquil. There were less things to entertain you, but at the same time there were less things to distract you. At most times the mind was innocent, yet pure and fertile!

With the ushering of the "knowledge" era, information is at our finger-tips. Most would claim that this has definitely empowered us with a tool hitherto lacking, and thus via multitasking abilities, increased our productivity. You no longer stop for directions cause your GPS tells you when to turn, you can keep in touch with your unlce 10,000 miles away via email or you can check the weather in Hawaii a month from now to plan your ideal vacation. An explosion in multimedia over the past decade has completely transformed the way we congregate and then digest information. It has fostered an unprecedented sense of awareness and enable execution of ideas previously dubbed purely theoretical. Under this pretext anyone taking as much as a distant potshot at this progress would be baptized a heretic.

....but that is not the point of the post. What I am clamoring, unsuccessfully, to portray is the loss of human power to concentrate and fixate on one idea. Devoid of this cursory distractions, the human mind is sharper and more perceptive. Hence if I think of something which is purely devoid of technology, like say reading 50 pages of a book, I bet I would have done that faster a decade ago. However there are pitfalls into buying into this arguement, as it soon presents a problem of recursive nature. For eg, technology has continually evolved for centuries, and the above arguement can easily be applied in a retrogressive manner, to reason that humans a century ago were sharper in their thought process than today.

However you soon realise that concentrating on issue alone is worthless without an array of information to support and give a rational unbiased view to it. Thus although the cavemen had less distractions and could regurgitate an issue sharper than us, his lack of reasoning derived from information would still make him inferior to the distracted humans of today. Infact the incoherent nature of this post is a perfect testimony to the fact that my mind is soon losing its battle to congeal, effectively, a fluid thought into something solid...and so I move to my other window with a YouTube video!

Mother's Tongue

Its supposed to be the first language that you learn to speak. Its obvious, your mom is
the first person who starts speaking to you, and all your vocabulary is nothing but a few words off her wide repertoire. Given this, it should also be the most fluent language that you speak, incase you are polylingual. Its true that your environment shapes the mastery of your language skills, and there is a good chance that you may obtain proficiency in a language different then your own mother tongue. But in my opinion, there is no excuse for lacking fluidity in your native language.

A recent trip involving few conservations with friends, left me into deep introspection on my native language skills. I have never been overtly proud of my abilities to speak in Tamil, but yet I believe I possess good conversational abilities. Most times, it's accented - as they say Bambai (Bombay) Tamil, but I never fail to convey what I intend. I have always prided myself in speaking to my elders in Tamil as a mark of respect, despite most of them being extremely fluent in English. Hell, I even learnt to write and read when I was in 5th grade, only to abandon it soon after for no other reason than being lazy.

But its been more than 4 years since I have left India, and I feel my grip on the language is relaxing at a rapid pace. The thought that I might not even be in a position to educate my kids (in their father's tongue) is extremely pitiful. Its particularly disconcerting when I realise that the probability of my kids being raised in alien environment in a land 10,000 miles away from home country is high. Under this assumption, their only link to their cultural heritage would be through their parents, and if I drop the baton, then an important cultural link could be lost forever

Having grown outside Tamil Nadu, I spend my formative younger years in an environment
where Hindi was all prevalent, and speaking English was a fad. At most times, the more
fluent you could speak English, made you seem more educated and classy. I had seen some of my convent educated cousins show their command of the British language, and in fear of
being ridiculed I started making efforts towards the same. At times, I would pride myself
in being able to communicate with siblings and close relatives in English. Outside home,
bollywood and Hindi ruled the streets. For some reason, the pride for native language never rubbed on to me, and thus even with people who spoke Tamil, I felt more comfortable rambling in other languages. Thus a combination of environment and few misguided personal choices later, I find myself in a bind.

I have always prided myself in knowing multiple languages. In school I learn English, Hindi, Marathi. I picked up how to understand gujrati from neighbours. During undergrad days, I made a weak attempt to learn Telugu and even put in a semester worth of effort to learn German. As I learn Spanish this month, I suddenly feel a strong urge to polish my skills in a language that I should have always known better - Tamil !!

Objects in the RearView Mirror!

After 25 hours at 30,000+ ft altitude watching B-grade movies, sleeping, snacking on some
delicious "Hindu" meals served by some really cute air-hostesses, the flight finally touched down on the Chatrapati Shivaji International airport at Mumbai. With great excitement I breezed through the immigration and customs to greet my family and relatives who had braved the humid night and persistent mosquitoes to receive their loved one. After cramping more than the comfortable number of people into the jeep, we set out for a 45 minute ride to home in the wee hours of morning.

Growing up, traffic in India never alarmed me - I thought it was the same all over the
world. But after lapping up more than 30,000 miles in US, it was a huge shock to see traffic in Mumbai . My life flashed before my eyes innumerable number of times, as the driver snaked between high-beam lit cars, and some single head light lit trucks. I noticed a beautiful contradiction in the traffic philosophy in India and US. In India, you can stick your vehicle into any intersection and the assumption is that the oncoming vehicle will stop to let you go, whereas in US under such circumstances the assumption is always that the oncoming vehicle will not stop. Once you clarify this subtle nuance and you measure the exact dimension of your vehicle down to mms, driving in India is not so hard. But wherever I went there was traffic galore. People seemed to have gotten rich in a hurry and had filled their narrow lanes with cheap affordable cars, but the MLA's seemed in no hurry to build new roads and flyover to accomdate this sudden surge in motorized vehicles. What is more shocking is the utter neglect shown to the fate of pedestrians. I realized, much to the chagrin of my friends, that I had developed a sudden respect for oncoming traffic as I would patiently wait minutes before walking across the asphalt. On one such occassion I followed my friends advice to brave traffic underneath the Gemini flyover, only to be almost beaten by a traffic cop. But seriously, why don't we care about pedestrians ?

The other thing which amazed me was the wealth possessed by teenagers. Rs 75/- a coffee
seemed like blasphemy to me cause I had grown up drinking road-side tea for a buck or two
with a biscuit costing 50 paise, and I am not that old !There was way too much dipsosable cash in the society, thanks to the IT revolution, and people were not ashamed to flaunt it. Courtesy of the corporate culture, western outlets (Sub-way, Mcdonalds etc) are making in-roads, but due to adverse dollar-rupee conversion ratio, they still maintain a very small patronising group. The fad for being westernised is getting bigger as people happily seem to be swapping their local identity for someone whom they would want to be. Cars of all foreign manufactures adorn the road - what the hell, I saw a Porsche Carrera outside The Park, Chennai (5 star hotel). But it seemed like the wealth was only increasing the divide between the haves and have-nots, and with 7% inflation there was no end insight.

The best thing about trips to India is the great food. You dont have to pay 100's of
rupees in some fancy restaurant when you can enjoy the most delicious ones for less than 10
on the footpath. Hygeine suddenly takes a backseat while eating out as I enjoy the germs as
much as the spices that make the stuff tasty. At most times, I found myself with the predicament "Pet Bhargaya, per Dil na Bhara". Having spent 6 years in hostel eating zoo
food, and then 4 years eating microwaved food, your sense of appreciation really kicks in as
you relish even the simplest of the dishes. Ladies in India, don't realise what an immense
talent they possess over the entire world, in terms of their cooking ability. Living in a
cosmopolitan city like LA, I have sample food from some countries whose name people might not even have heard of.....but no cuisine seems to be as rich and diverse as ours !!

Personally, it was a roller coaster ride. One evening, I was on a tremendous high seeing
my sister getting married to a gem of a guy, and meeting old friends and relatives only to
meet the same set of people the other day after my grandfather's expiry in a very shocked state. Life is a great equaliser, and having witnessed the first death in the close family circle, I have realised one important thing - Your life is not just precious to yourself, but its precious to all the people who love you.

But trips to India are always too short and always memorable. The emotions don't actually
sink in till you have checked in your baggages at the departure terminal and received your
boarding pass. As you esconce yourself into the tiny little window/aisle seat in the big
bird, the reality hits you. Amidst the ruckus of big mouthed co-passengers you reminisence
the entire trip and nostaligically look back at the day you landed at the airport and met
your family for the first time. And then like a movie in flashback, you trace your thoughts
through all the incidents that unfolded over the last 3-4 weeks. This fond feeling continues
till your exhausted eyes give up their battle and take you into your fantasy world. It's a
shame that these trips happen only once a year or two !!

When are you going back to India - III ?

(The first 2 parts in this series can be found here - Part 1, Part 2)

Like most people, Ram came to the land of immigrants in search of better career opportunities, which indirectly (actually directly) translated to a move towards more money. Soon he realised that it was not just money, but it was also his standard of living which was suddenly elevated. He saw things in a way which he had not foreseen even in his wildest dreams.

He could buy a car, laptop, and an I-pod when he was still doing his graduate degree. He could fly cross country with ease and visit places he had only read about. He could buy designer clothing and live in a neighbourhood with sylvan streets and well trimed hedges and lawns. The infrastructure was better than anything he had imagined. He enjoyed the detatchment from bureacracy in his daily activities. When obtaining a license back home used to take him Rs. 1000 worth of bribing and 3 months of wait time, now it took him only 5 minutes of driving test. He no longer faced a situation where trains would be cancelled because somebody insulted a leader or a somebody defaced the statue of a dead personality. He was no longer affected by communal riots or water scarcity or power outage or flooding. He lived his life the way he wanted to live in the place he wanted to live. Soon he settled down with his family and his kids grew up in this new environment.

Often times he would be faced with the inevitable question - How long am I going to stay here ? What are the reasons driving me home, and what are the reasons preventing me from going back ? Despite embracing the alien culture to the fullest, he never considered himself as a part of it. Unlike many other immigrants, he did not despise the culture, but rather loved it. However, he had grown up in a land far far away and hence could never come to terms with identifying himself with this new culture. The adolescent and teenage years are the most formative and defining years of a person's life, and the lessons you learn then are the lessons you live with your entire life. Hence he could never develop the ability to drag his heart out of his homeland.

But on deep introspection, he realised that the real reason compelling him home was the comforts of his family and friends. So he finally abandoned his cushy job, his huge house and powerful car and relocated back home with his extended family. His kid continued to grow up with an american accent and struggled to adapt to the new surroundings. But their problems were not as big as Ram's himself. There were definitely simple things which he missed - like opening a faucet to get hot or cold water, or cruising at 160 Kmph on his car, or the omni-present restrooms in public places :)) But it took him no time to adjust back to the life he had grown up with, and such materialistic longings were thing of a past.

However, a few years down the line, reality hit him hard. He had abandoned everything to be close with his friends and family. But most of the elderly relatives passed away after a few years. The entire second generation of his family (his siblings, cousins et al ) had already migrated to US and esconced themselves over there. As he went in search of his old school friends, he was met with a similar fate. Some of the best friends he had made off-late were his colleagues in America. Deprived of his best buddies and closest relatives he finally felt a stranger at his own home - a home he so fondly returned to, after following years of selfish pursuits elsewhere.

Does Place matter ?

Growing up in a remote suburb of Mumbai, I was always in love with the tiny little town I lived in (Ambivili). It was laid back, almost rustic, but at the same time it happened to be only 45 minutes of train ride to Mumbai - the commercial capital of India. Multiple times a year, I would visit relatives in Pune & Madras. But back then, I never liked one place over the other. Every city seemed to be the same, the people were same, the weather was the same and they all boasted of the same tourist spots. There were no special attraction of the beach over the mountain or the bay over the temperate weather. You liked the place so long as you liked the people you visited !! This might not be true today, but when you are 10 you don't care for geographical diversity.

Moving over to US, the first 2 years were spent in almost similar pastoral settings of State College. It was a big place by Indian standards, but by US standards it was nothing more than college town. It was prettier than what I had ever seen before in my life, and I made some really good friends too. It was an ideal place to live as a cash strapped graduate students. I always heard my city slick friends express disdain for such small towns, but I never understood them till I moved to one. Moving into a huge city has been a totally different experience, and I felt I matured much more in 2 months in a city than in 2 years spent in a small town.

Also I had always thought that the weather was the same everywhere. It is either too hot or too cold or it rains, its never pleasant. This myth was blown into pieces after I moved to Southern California. Now I have started discerning difference between 3-4F, or for that matter between 20% humidity and 65% humidity, cause I had never lived in a dry region before! The freedom to get up any day of the year and go out to jog or play tennis wearing just T-shirts and shorts, is something I think precious. Some people still don't understand why I rave so much about this fact, but in most cases these are people who have never experienced such a phenomena.

When I was looking for a job for the first time in US, I was open to any geographical locations, may it be Fargo, ND or Topeka, KS. Place didn't matter then, what mattered was career. But somewhere down the lines, I got lucky and landed in Los Angeles and I started looking at a location in a whole different light.

As I post tonite, I am balking on a great career opportunity because I don't want to move from Los Angeles to Houston. I never liked Texas from my first visit to the city and least of all Houston. I always thought of Houston as a place which is more like a Los Angeles devoid of Mountains, Beaches, Great weather but yet having traffic problems & pollution - the downsides of Los Angeles. I guess there are things in life more important than just a career, it's called enjoying life! So should place have such a big emphasis on our life ? Most people would anwer with a emphatic NO, and I am still unsure!

Patel Snaps*

( * Patel snap is a funny name given to those typical desi snaps taken at points of major interest, with the entire family beaming a cheesy smile in the foreground. However, I think we still have ways to go in this department if we have to catch up with the japaneese. )

Before I left for my trip to Wyoming, I proclaimed to a lot of my friends that there is a good chance that I might not see any desi for next 5 days, considering I was visiting some of the most remote states in US. Most of the first day was spent in Salt Lake City, which from my previous visits is easily the whitest place I have visited. During the first day we travelled through Utah, Idaho, Montana and finally landed up in Wyoming. Of the all the cars I peeped into, and all the gas stations we stopped at I recollect seeing only 1 non-white guy. It was at Idaho Falls, and probably this black guy was happy to see me too, cause he walked up to me and asked me the location of the restroom. ( An aside, Why is calling someone black derogatory, but calling someone white perfectly OK ?)

During my limited camping experience, I have never seen desis camp, and this record was maintained intact over the next 4 days. My non-desi sighting continued for about a half a day, till I saw a small desi family take a hike at Midway Geyser basin. Desi meetings at tourist spots are always awkward. Both the crossing party seemed to be deeply involved in their discussion as they approach each other. But when they are in each other's vicinity, suddenly there is a deathly silence. Some look to the ground, some look to the sky or some just look away. There is intense feelings, but there is no eye contact - and once the paths have been crossed, there is invariably a chuckle or a snide remark. Its strange that the same person who would react gleefully and greet total stranger of a completely different race and culture, would lapse into a lull while meeting someone of the same kind.

Given the inaccessibility of Yellowstone, I wasn't expecting to see more than a handful of desis in the park, but I was proven wrong when I visited the big restaurant at Old Faithful. Here, I saw atleast 50 of them. And as my friends gave me a hard time at every sighting, I debated what could be the reason for this phenomenon.

Old faithful is definitely the most popular and most easily accessible part of the park. Why is it that we always horde at easily accessible places, and avoid places like the campgrounds and backpacking trails. Places like Niagara falls, Grand Canyon are always flooded with desis, but at the same time, if you drive up to Glacier National Park in the wilderness of Montana, you would hardly find any of our kind. Are we not adventurous enough ? Why dont we go the extra distance to see things which are undoubtedly more beautiful ?Why should these activities be restricted only to the whites ? Very rarely do you see desis or for that matter any non-whites, pull off at a road in wilderness and walk to the snaking river or taking a dip in lake or for that matter backpacking in wilderness. Are we not as flexible as people over here ?

ps: Why do you never see afro-americans in National Parks ?

When are you going back to India ? - II

I had written this piece of fiction long ago, and felt I should archive it alongside the last post.

Hari grew up in a small nondescript town in the outskirts of vellore district in Southern India. But that didnt prevent him from dreaming big. He had seen his california based Uncle flash his nike shoes and GAP shirts and heard him talk about 16 laned highways and blonde bombshells. This had instilled a constant yearning for the WEST in Hari's mind.

Hari lived in a small 5 bedroom house shared by 19 close relatives. When Hari was a kid, he would play cricket with his friends in the arid fields behind his house. After a tiring day of game, he and his friends would take a dip in the Vaigai river, without caring for the buffaloes and naked seers swimming nearby. But as he grew up, the lure of the WEST made him detest most of these mundane things which he would otherwise enjoy. He would get peeved at his ever doting relatives and scream for more privacy; He would refuse to take part in the silly game of cricket and surely refrain from taking a dip into the "polluted" river. He had determined that he wouldnt follow the beaten path tread by his relatives and settle in this sleepy town. He had decided he would move to the WEST, strike riches and make a bright future. Before retiring every night, Hari would look at the post card of Manhattan that his uncle provided and dreamt of the land far far away.

But sheer determination and hard work reaped rewards, as Hari got a chance to study in a very prestigious school in Chicago. As Hari's relatives wept at his departure, Hari couln't resist his excitment at this opportunity. Although he experienced a culture shock when he landed in the West, he never felt nostalgic. It was a matter of time before Hari embraced the new place and new culture and started making the most of it. Inspite of a less than moderate stipend from his school, Hari could still afford luxuries which he had only dreamt of back in Vellore. His excellent grades landed him with a plump job in San Francisco as he started enjoying the ostentatious display of wealth that built the golden state of California.

Hari finally found the love of his life and tied the nuptial knot soon after, in a temple in Livermore, CA in a quaint little ceremony marked by absence of his parents and loved ones. With the luxury of a dual income household, Hari could afford a great house overlooking the bay, and also bought a luxury sports car. His kids grew up as American citizens playing baseball instead of cricket and munching Hershey's instead of cadburys. As he changed status from F1-H1-green card-US citizen his riches grew, his lifestyle improved, but somethings remained the same. For instance, Hari had a close knit relationship with a lot of Indians as well as Internationals, but at times of adversity he would always fall back at his Indian colleagues. He would always cherish and long for social gathering of his fellow nationals than any other company.

Once he was satiated by his drive for wealth and fame, Hari took time out to ponder over his looming future and his hectic past. Life had been one long sprint since he moved to his dream land. In his quest to the finish line, he had failed to stop and appreciate the moments of joy that passed him. During periods of deep introspection Hari would ask himself only one question, "Afterall, was it worth anything ?". In moments of solitute he would think of his relatives, the cricket, and the river. Through emails Hari would learn that most of his relatives still stayed in touch with each other and lived contented in absence of a materialistic pursuit. It seemed like life had finally slowed down for Hari, but the pace hurt him rather than healing him.

Finally, nostalgia got better of him, as he decided to return back to his hometown and settle for a laid back style of life. But to his dismay, things had changed more than what he had imagined. His 2 storied wooden house was replaced by a 25 storied skyscraper. The arid field, where he played cricket were turned into concrete jungle. Kids no longer played cricket in the open air, instead they played it on LAN. He could no longer swim in Vaigai as it had turned into a tourist hang out spot, and you had to book 3 months in advance to get a cottage by the lake.

After paying 300 Rs entrance fees, Hari sat next to the lake reading the mail from his son informing of his plans to marry an American, his wife's affair with their chineese neighbour and his daughters move to an independent house with her fiance. As tears streamed down his cheek, his memory jogged him to a time 38 yrs ago when his Uncle first told him about GAP, Nike and the blondes.

When are you going back to India ?

Most desis who come to US for graduate studies, face or ask this question umpteen number of times. Often times, the answer is "3-4 years of work and am going back home. I have no plans of settling in this country". The typical response to this is always a sarcastic, "Yah right. I believe you"....And I don't fault anyone who comes up with this response, cause as of today, I know only 1 friend who graduated and took up an offer in India willingly.

Recently, I had a discussion with my boss about different cities in this country. I remarked, "Why would someone live in a frigid lifeless place like Billings, MT when there exists a place like Los Angeles, where the weather stays 75F/25C throughout the year and there is so much natural beauty". His reply was a classic, " You are different, you live 10,000 miles away from your home and hence you don't care. I live in LA, because I was born here. If I were born in wilderness in Fargo, ND, I would live most of my life there. Place is not as important as people".

Barring a very few, most desis come to US due to lure of the greens, peer pressure or simply a "better" standard of living. I said few, cause I personally know people who are here purely to pursue their passion in their field of interest/study. For the rest, it definitely seems like a selfish move. Many complain that "I hate the US culture", "I don't want my kids to grow here", "....there is a total lack of family values", "....the people here are superficial, hypocrites, rasicst..". I disagree on all counts. I come from a very conservative Iyer family, but that has not prevented me from doing the forbidden - eat anything that moves, and drink alcohol as strong as 180 Proof or go to clubs. I do, however, respect my elders and try to be honest in my deeds to others. On the other hand, I have seen some of my uncle/aunt's kids being born and brought up in US exercise more restraint than me and having a much better understanding of hindu culture, art etc than me. It's a shame, But I am pretty sure that this applies to a lot of my friends too !

People keep whining as they rake in dollar after dollar, and visit their homeland once in 2 or more years, giving a lame excuse that it cost 1000$ and a month of vacation to visit home. How does speaking to your parents 1/2 hr a week show better family values than an American who lives in the same city as his parents and visits them once a month ? How does celebrating Diwali programming Java at work show better values than a native who slices turkey with his loved ones over a thanksgiving dinner ? Again, there are no restraints which tie you to this alien country. We are free to go back anytime, but neverthless we complain and thrive. If you whine about all things unpleasant about this culture and country, and still continue to stay here...isn't that pure hypocrisy ?

Coming back to the title, I intend to go back to India in approximately 8-10 years time. But, I will go back because I love my home, not because I hate this country. I will go back so that I can spend more time with my friends and relatives in India, not because I think people in this country are dumb or hypocrites. I will go back not for my kids future, but for my and my relatives well being. It will be a sad day, when I decide to leave this country, but it would also mark a happy beginning back home. Go back for reasons which attract you to your homeland, not for reasons which repel you from this country, cause if that was the case, you should never have been here in the first place !!


ps: I understand a lot of people will not agree with me on this post. I would appreciate if you could spend a few minutes and enlighten me with your thoughts on the comments sections. Please don't be a passive reader !

Meet the Meat

Often times, when people ask me whether I am a vegetarian or a non-vegetarian, I promptly reply, "I eat anything that moves ?". Growing up in a conservative family where most of my relatives eschewed things as mild as eggs, I find it shocking that I would one day don a carnivore instinct to devour churscarrias in Brazilian Steakhouses. At most times, I am a "poultrarian" - someone who eats only poultry products, but I have sampled a whole gamut of animals ranging from squid to alligator. I generally have no qualms regarding this fact, nor do I feel a sense of shame for doing the "forbidden".

However, it does leave a lump in my throat when I read about corporate animal farming or watch graphic videos showing the gruesome process of rearing and killing these animals. We all know its true that most poultry are raised in overcrowded pens where they are constantly maimed by their neighbours, we know they are fed genetically modified food, and we are very well aware of the cold hearted way in which they are killed. I am sure most meat eaters are well aware of the cruel living conditions of most factory farmed animals, and a majority of them even sympathise with the atrocities inflicted on these speechless creatures. But, when they are finally served at the dinner table, we nevertheless relish the chicken breast or the slice of sirloin. Is this hypocrisy or is this just animal instinct ?

At the core of it, man is just a smarter, more developed version of our four legged friends. Probably, the earliest human beings were pure vegeterians, eating fruits and tree produce. Things probably stayed like this for a while till someone sampled the remanants of a carcass and found it to be tastier than the leafy stuff they had hitherto consumed. In time, men learnt to hunt down the animals and make a meal out of them. Thus man was just one more predator in a jungle filled with flesh hungry beasts. This was the Natural !! There existed a food chain, and propelled by an oversized cranium, man rose to the summit faster than other monsters. Some proponents of the non-vegetarian sect extend this logic further to justify the meat eating action to be essential to maintaing balance of the eco-sytem. I think thats just balooney !!

Personally, I do not agree with the claim that meat is tastier than vegetables. It might be high in energy content, but if Transmogrifier is right, it is also the least energy effecient in terms of food production. I also do not agree with the fact that vegetarian diet is not as nutritious as meat based diet. Infact with the advent of the enormous obesity problems facing most nations, the "greens" might have the final laugh. I have seen a lot of Indians in US use the excuse that the vegetarian options are limited and it is very hard to be a strict vegetarian. I have used that excuse umpteen times, when confronted by elderly relatives, but I have also come to believe that the excuse is totally invalid. Over the recent past I have seen a lot of hard core meat eaters turn to greens and have had no regrets at their decision.

Despite the pro-vegetarian tone of this post, I continue to remain a non-veg and see no change in that status in near future. Human beings are selfish by nature, and morals always run a distant second to personal interest. I also believe that most vegetarians abstain from meat, not because they are against cruelty to animals, but because they detest the smell, taste of meat or because of religious reasons. And hey !! Aren't plants living beings too ?

ps: Food for thought (strictly vegetarian !) for this post was provided by my good friend Ramya.

Vicarious

* On my way to work today, I saw around 5 choppers hovering in the air about a quarter mile away from my office. Such sightings are often exciting, because you can be sure there is something significant happening out there and it definitely demands a media coverage. As I ran into my cubicle and checked the online print, I found that a bunch of farmers were being evicted from a farm. But the reason why it was making news was because a lot of celebrities had joined their protest against eviction - notably, Daryl Hanah was actually perched on a tree and refused to come down!!

* Another such incident happened about 2 months ago, when, on my way back home from work I saw a very familiar sighting of 5 helicopters flying close to where I was driving. I turned on the TV as soon as I reached home, only to see the local news providing live footage of the scene. Apparently, somebody had stolen a SUV from Beverly hills and had led police on a half hour car chase through the city which finally came to halt after a collision near South Central LA. The driver, however, was still involved in a stand-off with the cop, which was happily being broadcast even on CNN......and I sat rivetted at my TV for next half hour.

As I look back, in both the occassions, something unfortunate was happening to people involved. But, they surely did arouse my curiosity and excitement. Infact I was even proud to narrate these incidents to some of my friends later cos I almost witnessed them live. It surprises me how someone's misfortune could actually lighten up our rather uneventful day and give a great topic of conversation. Probably the key thing about these incidents is not the misfortune of others, but deviation from normal day-day life which makes them a point of interest. Which makes me wonder sometimes whether Humans by nature are designed to participate in such vicariousness?

Would there be any news at all in the world, if there was peace everywhere or If there was no poverty and no crime. What would the media cover if Brad Pitt didn't divorce Jenifer or If US didn't bomb and kill Al-Zarqawi (and a woman and a kid in the same facility). Katrina ravaged and battered the gulf coast. I am not that cruel to claim that this excited people, but it sure did invoke their curiosity. Now was this curiosity due to their concern for the people in the direct line of action or was it just to fathom the extent of nature's wrath, we would never know. In the build up this hurricane, I know a lot of people who would track these hurricanes hourly, and would find it a great talking point if the hurricane increased its speed by 5 mph, or should I say feel a sense of betrayal if the hurricane speed subsided cause the event is no more exciting !

The title to this post has been inspired by one of my all time favourite band Tool. They talk about this feeling in their new song Vicarious (lyrics are here - read it, it's a post in itself). The lyrics totally unsettled me, and I find very hard to agree with it, although I have a faint feeling that it is actually true for a lot of people. If you are interested, an amateur video of the same song can be found here.

Inefficient Aging

I am not an early riser, but some of the most productive study hours I have experienced have been at the wee hours of the morning during my High school days. I can still remember waking up to a warm cup of coffee prepared by mom and getting ready to devour a chapter on the Treaty of Versailles or reading about the Mineral Ore sites in Bihar. Before the first ray of sun could filter into my den, I would have already dealt with 3-4 chapters of Algebra. 2 1/2 hours of pure dedication.

Things stayed the same through junior college as I prepared for the IIT entrance examination. 104 weeks of early rising later, I had finally attained what then seemed like, the Final Frontier. As I reflect back, I am convinced that that phase was the peak of my efficiency curve and things have only gone downhill since then. The undergrad days were corrupted with numerous distractions like new found independence, new friend circle, Internet, TV etc. Things had changed from a mere "single textbook" learning to a "library rifling" concept oriented learning. Courtesy of this new lifestyle, Early Risings were supplanted by Night Outs. Things got even worse at graduate school - unlimited broadband internet access, 120 channels at finger tips, unlimited Mp3 & Mpeg sharing contributed to a steeper decline in the learning curve. The only 4 hours that I spent studying yesterday, for my Marketing exam, involved an episode of Seinfeld & Southpark, checking mail at every 30 minutes, answering a phone call, and gorging food !!!

So is this just me ? At the risk of generalising based on my immediate friend circle, I would say that this problem plagues a majority of us. I know a lot of people who seem to be working longer than normal just to cover their inefficiencies. To work longer, you end up taking more breaks - coffee, internet, tv, music etc which further increases longevity of the task in hand. To some extent this seems like a vicious circle. So is this downfall in effeciency wrought by the explosion in multimedia and www and the their easy accessibility or is it just the aging process ? As we age, we seem to have more responsibilities to deal with, which sometimes tethers the brain with a plethora of concerns. Popular belief is that our brain is sharpest and can learn the fastest when we are kids. Although, I haven't seen a scientic proof of this myth.

I wish I could concentrate and study like yesteryears when I had no email account and the only channels on my TV were DD1 & DD2 ! The information age seems to have ushered us with great tools like powerful computers, universal library etc, and greatly enhanced our resources and capabilities. But, I guess it also shares blame for taking a huge slice out of our efficiency. It's probably a coincidence that I grew up in a time which saw such a revolution in media and communication. I wonder whether I would have been mentally more efficient at this age if I grew up 5 decades ago !

I am sure there are plenty of exceptions to this rule - people who have sustained a high level of dedication and continue to work as efficiently, if not more efficiently. Probably, this is what demarcates successful people from others.

Retirement

Tyler retired from work yesterday. He had dedicated 35 years of his life to the organisation and was retiring a very happy man. On his last day at work, the company had organised a small cake party in his honor. Almost the entire company had turned up for the ceremony to bid him adieu. Some came for the party, cause they knew him personally and wanted to wish him good luck. Some came for the free cake. Some just wanted to escape the confines of their claustrophobic cubicle and spend some time with their other colleagues. I was their for reasons number 2 and 3.

The ceremony kicked off with his manager waxing eloquence about Tyler's selfless service to the organisation. He traced the rise of Tyler during his tenure. He also leaked out a few embarrasing but funny incidents during their professional relationship. After a few amusing anecdotes by other co-workers, it was time for Tyler to narrate his experiences. I strained hard to observe the presence of any moisture around his eyes. But there weren't any, the feeling had probably not sunk in yet. In his usual humorous style Tyler recounted various escapades that he experienced during his 3 decade service. He had seen the company rise from a $200 mn organisation to $2.6 bn multinational corporation. He had seen people come and go, he had seen heads roll in the management. He had seen turn key projects won, and some lost. It didn't matter that I didn't know the person who was retiring, his humour endeared him to one and all.

As I listened to him speak, I couldn't stop thinking about my own retirement speech. I had been in the organisation for only 6 months, but I was already thinking about a time when I would be 60! I guess the fondest memory that people have when they retire is about their first day in the office. Though mine wouldn't rank as a fond memory it nevertheless would be very very interesting, if not shocking to talk about. The first 20 years of life you work hard so that you get a good job. You spend the next 40 doing what the first 20 years trained you to do. So at 60, it seems like the end of most important and the biggest chapter of your life. During these 40 yrs you would meet a lot of people, exchange business cards with a hundreds of people and dine with equal number of them. But I guess at the end of the day, it would just be a handful of telephone numbers from work, that you might be carrying home - in most cases, banishing all other to oblivion.

It's interesting to know how the deadline of 60 came into existence. Was it because people were deemed unfit to work after the age of 60 ? Was it dictated by economics that it is the optimum age for a person to retire such that society always has enough working population ? Or is it some age old tradition that we blindly adhere ? In my dreams I would like to retire at the age of 40, and travel around the world by road on a cool car with a fun passenger. But for now, tomorrow is a monday and I have to wade through another 1820 mondays before I prepare my retirement speech.

Holiday Workers

It's festive time and everyone seems to be enjoying an extended break from work with friends and relatives. Some are having a quite dinner with near and dear ones, while some are partying wild into night with absolute strangers around them. Most people have been enjoying a much cherished break from work, some haven't seen the inside of their cubicle since Dec 21st, combining their Christmas / New Year break to have one long vacation.

On the eve of New Year, I was at an AMC movie theatre to catch the latest Spielberg creation. There was a reasonable sized crowd at the Mall, enjoying the last few hours of 2005. Some were on their cellphones exchanging greetings with their relatives in other parts of the world, while some were just having a merry time with their buddies and family. It seemed like the entire world had stopped working to enjoy the end of the year festivities.

But then I glanced at the lady behind the counter who was doling out tickets to the late night shows. I also saw a lady with a trash can cleaning the mess that people from the previous show had created. There were people behind the counter at the Soda/Nacho/Pretzel store. There were security personnel manning the parking lots and regulating traffic. On my way back I could see bus drivers religiously driving their routes and picking up drunk revellers from different bars. There were cops on the street, just incase there were any accidents. I then tried putting myself in their boots and seeing the world through their eyes.

These guys had chosen to forfeit their leave just to make sure that ordinary people like us enjoy our year end antics. It's true that they probably get paid 2.5 times their regular salary to work on holidays, but is that enough to make them trade their time with their family for work. There might be some who dont have a family closeby and might prefer to work for some extra dough, but I am sure a lot of them selflessly sacrifice their holidays to serve people like you and me.

As I reflected on some of these invisible hands which kept up the merry spirit, my memory jogged back to various such festive occassions. I could remember travelling in a bus on Diwali day, when the conductors and bus-drivers go about their business as usual. The same could be said about the ticket vendor at the railway station, the waitress at the restaurant, the doctor at the hospital and the fire-man who put off the fire from fire crackers.

The Holiday workers are the unsung heroes, quintessential to any successful holiday of ours. I wonder how many people realise that and show their appreciation towards them. So the next time you are having a grand meal on a Diwali / X-mas, show your gratitude and tip them generously with your words and wallet.

The Aging Friends

Do you remember the first friend you ever made ? Most people made their first friends at the kindergarten. It didnt matter whether it was a girl or a boy, they were your friends so long as neither of you bullied each other, or had a common favourite toy. More often than not, your friends were actually your parents friends kids. Although in most situations such friendship was imposed upon you, it worked well.

Assuming you joined a primary school in the same neighbourhood as your kindergarten, a lot of friends stayed on from kindergarten. You made some new ones, while you lost some old ones. Your memory hadn't developed enough for you to grieve the friends that you lost. You started becoming aware of differences between a girl and a boy, but that never filtered into your friendships. But things were simple. There were no dirty secrets, no backbiting. You moved to the Secondary school within the same school. Your friend circle didn't change much. There were some who moved to other places, while others who joined your group. By now you had reached an age when you realise exactly what you like and what you dislike. You build a strong inner circle of your friends and hope things stay the same forever.

But the only thing constant in this world in change. So you move to college, in most cases in a different school, in a different neighbourhood. If you are lucky, some of your old buddies join you in this phase, but in most cases you started making new pals. You lose touch with most of your good old friends, but their absence is being filled fast by the new ones you make at college. Geographical separation and the new found fun group contribute to erasing ties with some good old pals. You accept the inevitable and move on with new beaming faces around you. You are mature and independent enough to do all the things you ever wanted to do. And you realise that this enjoyable phase of life is brought to you by this new set of accomplices and confidants. You dread that you might lose them, but find yourself helpless.

Lets say you moved to a new country, which wipes out most of your old friend circle. You now desperately start seeking a group, cause you realise that all the fun you had in yesteryears were due to the presence of good friends. You might fail initially, but eventually you succeed. By now you are in search of people whose wavelength matches yours, and you do find many. After a few nostalgic weeks/months you are back to what you have been doing best - start partying !! Things probably change when you enter the corporate side, they become a bit formal, nevertheless you start creating the old times through the new groups.

As you move on, at every stage, you make some good friends, but you also lose a lot of good old friends. But how long does this go on. Over the weekend, I had a discussion with a friend who claimed that age had a great bearing on this activity. His arguement was that as you grow older, you start becoming picky and your circle starts shrinking to a few chosen ones. He further claimed that things will change drastically after marriage. Friendship will take a beating to kinship, and the growth as well as attrition rate will move towards stagnation.

Is age really such a big factor ?

Where are we running ?

Food for thought for this post has been provided by the following two posts: Susu, Rohan

Lets imagine a world where everyone is equally rich and equally popular. In short, there is no value for money or fame. Now think of what you would be doing with your life in such a world. You still have to earn your living in this new world, but let's say all professions pay the same - the janitor is just as rich as the artist or the actor. Now lets jump back to reality and compare your present state with the state you fancied 2 lines ago. If these are the same, then I must say, you are one of the blessed ones and you need not read any further. But my guess is that often times than not, these states are never the same. Why ?

In most occupations, we always end up doing what others want, and probably never what we want. Your professor might claim that he is doing independent research in a field of his liking, but in reality he would be working on an area where he sees there is potential for funding. An artist might claim that his art embodies only his thoughts, when actually he is painting to the liking of his customers without which he can't sustain himself. I am a great fan of Metallica, and often times considered Hard rock artists as an example of profession where you do something you are really passionate about - strum the guitar to your own tunes, beat down the drums and scream your lungs out. Nope ! Even that's commercial. Every show on their tour features the same song sequence, the same theatrics on stage - nothing is spontaneous !! Sports might seem probably better than most occupations. But even here, you follow a strict regiment to outwit your competitors. You dont do what you like, you do what your coaches tell, who in turn do what their managers tell them etc. I am not even mentioning regular service in this category, cause most of the time you are either listening to your superior or to your customer. And the list goes on........

Personally, I know less than a handful of people who seem to be doing what they like and dont care if others give a damn about their work. But then again, they are secure financially and possess the leeway to fulfill their fancies. Barring exception, every action and decision of our's finally boils down to either money or the opinion of others.

Life always seem like a run. Every one is trying to run faster and farther than his neighbour. There might be a finish line in sight. Some cross this line, some don't. I often wonder, Where and What would people run for if they were not competing with each other ?.

Charity

As a kid, I always used to wonder why there is poverty in this world. There are enough super rich people in the world. If each of them could only donate 5% of their wealth to the poor, we could all be rich. For example, Bill Gates could give 100$ to every American and still be left with a whooping $15 bn. A similar math could probably be done with the wealth of Ambanis and the Khans from Bollywood. A 5% cut in their wealth may make no difference to them, but could make a world of the difference to the indigent masses. Perfect ! We got the solution to an equitable world. No more poverty, no more suffering !! Unfortunately, not everything in the world can be explained by numbers.

There are many reasons why this distribution of wealth could never alleviate poverty. One of the first things which helped me reason this out, was economics. My economics professor explained how 100$ in the hand of the poorest of the poor, could increase the demand and cause inflation. In other words 3$ gas would start costing 20$, .50$ soda would soon cost 4$, and so on....rendering 100$ that the poor received almost worthless. This seemed a logical way of countering the arguements put forth in the above paragraph.

But I guess the real problem is that the poor don't need our wealth afterall. Instead they need our intellect and time to improve their plight. They want us to pass on our skills to them and work alongside to develop self-sustainable livelihoods for themselves. People like Mt. Teresa weren't rich; but she changed more lives than the what 5% of Bill Gates money would get. Money is probably a very small player in the big scheme of things. In short, Charity has no giver or taker, people work alongside and enrich each others life.

What I was unable to convey in 3 paragraphs, could be very succintly put in 2 lines of some great philosopher

'A bone to a dog is not charity. Charity is that bone which is shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog'

Music & "Stereo"types

I remember the opening scene from the movie "Office Space", where the character named "Michael Bolton" (white guy) is stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, and is jamming with the blaring "rap" music playing on his system. But as he sees a black man walking towards his car, he suddenly becomes aware of the music he is playing, so he reduces the volume, raises the windows of the car and stops his animated hand movements.

The warm weather in Los Angeles has given me the liberty of driving around with my windows lowered most of the time. Normally I dont give a damn about what others think of my music choice, but when I am driving fender-fender with other cars in slow moving or stopped traffic, I become rather conscious of the music streaming out of my system.

Last weekend I went to Ozzfest, featuring bands like Rob Zombie, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath and many others, dubbed by some as "satanic". I had also indicated in my previous post that the composition of the audience was purely white. Some even go as far as calling this genre of music as "white trash metal" or "angry white man's music". I have observed a lot of my friends forcing themselves to like hard rock, cause they consider being drunk and head banging while mouthing expletives is cool, and I am probably no different.

Similarly I have observed people develop "stereo"types for other kinds of music. Most of the hip hop singers are predominantly black, though you have rappers like eminem. If you listen to country music, often times than not, people assume that you are from one of the southern states like Tennesse, Alabama or Texas (some even dub it as red neck music) or you are old. Most of the audience for a boy-band concert is composed of teenage girls and I have even heard guys listening to such kind of music being referred as sissies.

No genre of music is better than the other and being a fan of one kind of music, shouldn't necessarily cause people to form develop preconceived notions about that induvidual - but I think, unfortunately thats not true. As Pantera is screaming his lungs out, I cant hear myself think and hence I shall stop.

Breaking the Ice

Have you ever been stuck in an elevator with a complete stranger and felt an urge to start a conversation. I have observed that people start conversations under such situations not to befriend the other person or to keep themselves occupied, but to escape the pregnant silence prevailing between them. Everytime I am stuck in such a situation, I think about ways to start a friendly chat - depending on the speed of the elevator and my creativity, I would say I have achieved a moderate success in this regards.

This behaviour can be extended to other scenarios like cab ride, hair cut etc. However, cab rides are a little easier as experience suggests me that 80% of cab drivers are garrulous and will start talking even before you close the cab door. Barbershops are a little tricky though, cause you dont want to distract the barber with your ramblings and get a scissor stuck in your ear rather than their words. Besides the humming of those blades make the communication a little harder.

I have always found 'weather' as a very easy topic of conversation. For example, in Pennsylvania the weather is very unpredictable and really bad for most part of the year. So on bad days, you can lament about the cold snowy weather or the thunderstorms and yearn for nice sunny days. On the other hand, when you do have your sunshine, start heaping praises on it talk about the welcome relief from the wet days. Things are however a bit different in Southern California because it never rains, the temperature is in 70s throughout the year, and you have clear blue skies and plenty of sunshine. So what do you do ? Well, tell them that you moved from Pennsylvania about a month ago and start complaining about the horrible weather up Northeast.

If the stranger happens to be a guy, then sports and cars seem to be very easy topic of conversation. If you are in Philadelphia start talking about Eagles, if you are in Los Angeles talk about the Lakers. It doesn't matter if it's not football season, most people are rather fanatical, and very knowledgeable, about their local teams and welcome discussion regarding them all year around. You dont even have to be knowledgeable about that particular sport, just know the name of the team and say, "So how are the Lakers doing this year ?".....and they will yap till the elevator reaches your floor, or the cab rolls to your stop. Most guys are also very passionate about their cars. They can tell you the exact number of horses under the hood of Mazda 6, or the insurance rate of a Boxster, or the 0-60 of a corvette. Unlike sports, you need a little literacy in this respect to prolong a conversation.

Sports and Cars sounds like a definite no-no when it comes to ladies, though I have surely talked to some ladies about their alma-mater's football team. I think it's always easier to get them started on themselves - their pet, their job, their neighbourhood etc. Just feed in a few keywords, pretend that you are interested and shut off your brains, as they will keep yapping. Talking about travel and different places could also be a possibility.

But I am still confused why we put efforts to break the ice, when we have no genuine interest whatsoever to know about the other person. Is it just human nature that we can't stand extended periods of silence while in a stranger's company ?

The Superhuman ?

His lungs can expand twice that of any normal human being. His heart has a capacity of pumping 3 times more blood than other humans, if needed. His muscles secretes less amount of lactic acid and has a tendency to fatigue less than others. His RBC count is more than that of any normal being, and helps retain more oxygen in the blood.

Ever since Lance Armstrong won the 7th Tour De France, critics all over the world are searching for reasons to explain his phenomenal feat. There are some who are trying to pinpoint his extraordinary physical strenghts as something which sets him apart from the average human being. People have gone as far as to attribute his remarkable achievements solely to these physical prowess - they have literally dubbed him superhuman, and ruled out any chance of a normal human being repeating the effort.

I am a very big fan of Armstrong, though I have watched and followed only 1 tour completely (2003). I have read his book "Every Second Counts", and it's surely the most inspirational book I have ever read. The language as well as story has inspiration oozing out of every line and page and I am now desperate to lay my hands on his other book "It's not about the bike".

However, I would like to request all the critics in the world to refrain from tagging him a superhuman based on his physical abilities. The world, and I for sure, need an inspiration to live by, and I want to believe that he was as human as I am. Only then can I believe that such feats could be emulated. When he was struck by testicular cancer, he was as frail and vulnerable as anyone else. Pro-cancer, he had failures in his career like any average sportsman. His dad walked out on the family when he was 2, and his 18 year old pregnant mom worked at grocery story for his upbringing. Though doctors told him that he is chance of surviving cancer was 40%, in reality, it was something close to 10%.

But Lance rose from all these hardships to ride to the pinnacle of what a sporstman could only dream to achieve. What set him apart was not his physical strengths, but his grit and determination. His lungs and heart might be bigger, but his brain was the same size as the average human being. I am sure he wouldn't have developed any of his physical abnomalities without the training, which in turn was driven by a steel will.

When critics call him superhuman, they are not only envious of him, but they are belittling the capabilities of mankind as a whole. They are probably destroying the motivation for millions of people all over the world, and that includes not just weak cancer afflicted people, but able bodied youth like you and me. Please call him Human, and celebrate the abilities of Mankind (and womankind)........it's extraordinary events like these which instill confidence in the impossible things that a mind can dream and achieve.

....and if you still ain't convinced that he is human, then just ask Sheryl Crow !