e Magus

Last week, I attended a get-together of former colleagues from the Times of India Hyderabad office. For me, and many of us, it had been more than two decades since we had last worked together. The day had all the ingredients of a good reunion—food, music, drinks, laughter, and the slightly awkward but warm ritual of rediscovering faces that had once been part of everyday life. The event had been wonderfully organised by a group of enthusiastic volunteers ( Murthy Vadapalli , Ranjana Rudra , Suresh Kochattil , Navneet Mathur Padmini Kashyap and many others) who had put in the effort to track people down, coordinate schedules, and make the day happen. And judging by the smiles, the hugs, and the decibel levels in the room, their effort had clearly paid off. A big shout out to all the amazing folks! As I wandered around the venue reconnecting with people from my past, it struck me that most of us were not there merely because an invitation had been sent. We were there because of somethi...

Sorry, I’ve been MIA for a few weeks. One of the enduring thing about working on projects for large MNC’s is that most of your day is occupied with RoB stuff. One thing that frightens me the most during these meetings and knowledge sharing sessions is CUA - Casual Use of Acronyms. Every company has its own alphabet soup, brewed carefully over decades. The same three letters can mean wildly different things depending on which corporate office you are working. One of the first thing I ask, when I start working for such companies is, do you have a glossary for the acronyms that you regularly use? Rarely is there one and you need to learn by asking. Sometimes I feel like a child picking up a new language. It isn’t that acronyms were not part of our daily lexicon. But, earlier, it was simpler and kinder. In school, PTO meant Please Turn Over. Teachers insisted on put a dot after each alphabet to remind the reader that something was being shortened….not replaced. So, Please Turn Over was wri...

Few days back I was at CIMAR Hospital, Thrissur where I saw a ‘regular’ scenario. Couple of grandparents hovering over a newborn grandchild. There was a softness in their voices, an indulgence in their smiles, a patience that seemed endless. Every yawn was celebrated, and a grasp of their extended finger making them laugh. The new parents’ faces were a mix of happiness, joy, anxiousness, etc.   We always say that the grandparents love their grandchildren more than they ever loved their own children. What made me think was, why does display of love skip a generation? Then it struck me that perhaps it is not because the love is deeper, but because it is lighter. Their own children came with timetables and school fees, fever charts and future anxieties. Grandchildren arrive free of such encumbrances. They can be adored without being managed, cuddled without consequence, returned safely to their parents when the crying starts. It is love, distilled—emotion without administration. I’m n...