chaotic order

Jottings - Slice of life - 305 ( living out of Hotels - musings, advice, and reality) When I checked out of the hotel I was staying in New Jersey this week, I was unaware that I had crossed the one million points landmark. A lady called me from customer service yesterday, and in sugary voice appreciated my unremitting loyalty to the brand, and how the Hotel was privileged to have me as their staunch customer and patron. She further extracted a guarantee ( it unconsciously slipped out of my mouth) that I would continue filling their coffers as long as I travel, and that an entire battalion of support staff was instantly available should I have any concerns. I felt pleasantly happy that the Hotel called, but quickly I was alarmed at the implications of this number. I am not very proficient at quick math. However, on an average depending on the brand of the Hotel property ( this chain has many brands ranging from budget to luxury), a night’s stay will fetch around 1000 points, which m

(Jottings - Slice of life - 300 - a meditation on migraines - a personal odyssey and salvation) One of my earliest childhood memories, until about thirteen or fourteen, is the excruciating pain I experienced at frequent intervals on the left-hand side of my head. These were splitting headaches unimaginable in intensity. It would start with general feeling of uneasiness in the body, a loss of interest in whatever I was doing, a sense of withdrawal from the world outside, difficulty focussing on anything; a mild nauseous sensation in the stomach followed by increased salivation and a taste of bile around the mouth, few bouts of vomiting and an intense dislike of food, growing insensitivity to light ( it would become extremely painful to look at anything bright), and above all a piercing pain in the left eye with star-like formations, and holographic figures flitting across my vision with unhurried movement, often blocking areas of vision. This entire episode would last anywhere betwe

Jottings - Slice of life -299 ( Blue Collared, White collared, and now “New collared” jobs - thoughts on the nature of jobs in the digital age) One of the key questions educators and the industry alike should answer very quickly is what kind of jobs are likely to take over as the twenty-first-century surges along, and Information technology at the workplace in deployed in increasing orders of magnitude. Artificial Intelligence (AI), Machine learning (ML), Cloud infrastructure, Robotic Process Automation (RPA), Internet of things (IoT), are not merely buzz words anymore, meant for geeks and elitist computer professionals. It has already touched the daily lives of the common man in a thousand ways and will continue to transform the way we live and work in the foreseeable future. The key question then is what kind of skills are required for the IT jobs of the future, where most of the repetitive tasks will find BOT’s doing it better and more efficiently, most of the analysis done by a

Jottings - Slice of life - 295 (Musings on the eve of the election results in India) "The true interest of an absolute monarch generally coincides with that of his people". So wrote Edward Gibbon in his monumental "Decline and fall of the Roman empire", nearly two centuries ago. As the day of reckoning draws nearer, it seems evident the people of India will vote Narendra Modi back to power for the next five years. The Monarch has held his sway over a billion people, and h is vision reflects the aspiration of an entire nation. Again and Again, in these columns, I have drawn attention to the fact that BJP on its own strength cannot win the election, but with Narendra Modi, at its helm, they will not lose. For a country starved of authentic leadership for decades, the people of India look upon Modi as a charismatic, confident, brave and articulate voice amidst the confusion and cacophony of rival political parties. The party Modi represents may follow a different a

Jottings - Slice of life - 292 ( Bhanu and I - thirty years of memories, and accumulating more) It is fascinating how an old picture, drawn from the forgotten fullness of the past, can seek out from the hidden corners of the brain enough buried memories to create a kaleidoscopic tapestry of visual images. The images are so vivid, surreal and pulsating, that for some brief moments in time the  relived past becomes the intense and absorbing present. The mystery of this visual parade of memories lies not in the mechanical sorting of countless small memories scattered in the vastness of one's psyche, but the delectable selection and connections it draws from those memory footprints in the loom of time. The spectacle is mysterious as it is forceful. The faded picture in front of our eyes, in few chronological minutes, reveals to the minds eye a show specially put together, orchestrated and delivered with an eclectic mix of emotions: there is sadness and joy, failure and hope, betrayals

Jottings - Slice of life - 288 ( Champions are forever — the return of Tiger Woods) (Note to my readers: This essay is dedicated to my friend and colleague  Vijay Shriram , who casually mentioned to me a few days ago that I should write about Tiger Woods, after his historic win in the Augusta Masters last week. Though I have been following Tiger woods incredible sporting journey for decades and sympathized with his personal life and fall from grace, I have never been a great enthusiast of the sport itself. A few years ago, I read Steven Pressfield's magnificent novel "The Legend of Bagger Vance" and was intrigued by his constant references to the Bhagavad Gita's exhortation that one must immerse oneself in action without yearning for the results. The caddie Bagger Vance speaks to his master (Junah) almost in the same language and cadence as Krishna to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. This book opened my eyes to the artistry of Golfing, and since then I ha

Jottings - Slice of life - 286 (“Man’s search for meaning” by Dr. Viktor Frankl) Last week, on my way back to Atlanta, a young man rushed into the flight, almost at the close of boarding gates, to occupy the seat next to me in the business class cabin. He looked flushed. In one hand, he was holding a thin book, and in the other, he was balancing a carry-on bag and a jacket. He quickly dropped his bag and jacket underneath the seat, sat down gasping for breath, turned to give me a quick nod, and opened the book in a hurry ( almost as if the boarding the flight was a distraction he could have done without) and continued reading. He didn’t give himself even a few minutes to settle down, adjust the air vent, or drink some water. It was obvious that the book he was possessively holding in his hands was irresistible, and he couldn’t wait to read the remaining pages. It was then that I glanced at the title, and knew exactly what was going on. There are few books that can change the cour