An East Delhi Citizen's Blog

general riff about politics, education, media, society, cricket..

Love an engineer

On the threshold of a half-century of existence and 30 years after my father effectively killed any debate on possible career choices with, “Be an engineer or be a jholawalla!” this post is probably outdated even before I write.

Am I a good engineer? Was I ever? A long lost friend writes it best on his LinkedIn profile:

I am not a practicing engineer, but i strongly believe that engineering is the best educational stream that i could have opted for. I am not sure what i learnt from academically. But what i did learn was a way of thinking. Structured, process & time oriented working.

I think it is prudent to not link to his profile. But, my batch-mates would surely know who he is. He, as we used to dismissively say in college, has spent a lifetime “selling soap” and otherwise finding ways of cross-selling, up-selling, enticing customers to come to his stores as so many flies to the spider’s web. Bravo! 30 years on, my admiration is not even of the “sneaking” variety.

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A story of 2 journeys

On a flight between Seoul and Taipei, I settle down in my aisle seat and wait for the flight to take-off before opening my laptop. A man settles down to the right; an Indian?

I am not really in a mood to strike up a conversation; I have a presentation tomorrow for which I am using slides that I have not even seen before. Is this man the talkative type? Does a familiar brown face make him open up? It does too, for me. But, not today. Read more…

Beete huey din.. wapas nahi aate

I am due to arrive in Varanasi in just half and hour; I know, because I can see DLW from my train window. My train, superfast as it is; still stops in Maduwadi. It is a scheduled stop and I curse myself for not having anticipated this. A drive from here to campus would have been so much shorter.

But, I have reception at the Varanasi main station– and it is too late to change the arrangements. And, who knows? Perhaps, the station would bring memories flooding back. As it happened, it did. Not the station; it remains as chaotic and as crowded as ever. But, the drive from the station to the campus was worth every additional minute spent.

This is the first time ever that I have been driven across this maddening city in an air-conditioned SUV; to get into the spirit of things, I consider getting in a shared auto- but, schedules beckon. I content myself in drinking in the sights from the windows. And, surprisingly (or not), I recognize the city as if I never left it.

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