communication solutions

Life is a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

The act of creation — it leads me to unknown places. Only to make me realize that all was known, always. And yet, I live every day with the hope that I’ll explore, create and grow into someone new. Because what’s life if not a long, wondrous and continuous introduction to yourself.

In this journey, music lives by my side. I find melody in my writing, and a lot of writing in my melodies. Sometimes, I hear songs in the bubbles of boiling tamarind water. Or in the stroke of red paint over the canvas. Or in the giggles of a child after a good joke. Tunes find their way even into my boredom, curiosity and the thoughts in between. And a rhythm taps into my sorrow, so it can take the leap to laughter.

Such is music. Such is life — yours and mine.


The Emergency




He cut the call, like he would snooze the alarm. It was 4am and G had slept at midnight after an over 8-hour workday.

We got up to a bright Saturday morning but it was 10am by the time we acknowledged that we were ready to start the day. G checked his email log (first thing after he woke up) and the comment thread on the web-application, where they filed all the software bugs.

I lazed around in the bed, to recover from a busy half-year. To relax, I picked up a book next to me and began to read. In a couple of minutes, I heard footsteps, heavy and erratic. It's a sign of either a great idea or unwanted stress. "Must be an idea" I thought. But then the steps developed a rhythm and I heard them approach the bedroom.

"It was a critical issue." He said.

"What?" I said.

"They called me at 4am no? I decided to look at it in the morning."

"And you did?"

"Yes, and the issue is fixed too."


"I am on call this weekend."

"Yeah, your weekend work-time just started!"

"According to some people, work time is 24 by 7."


"I was expected to pick that call..."

He mumbled a bit more and marched out of the room. He hadn't had a drop of water, a cup of coffee or a bowl of cereal since he woke up. "Is it the weekend yet?" I closed the book and walked to the front room to check. I saw him in his favorite drape, topless; his fingers were wrapped in his long hair strands. As he rolled and unrolled his hair, he stared deep into the computer screen.

"Aaargh" He said.

There was a broken robot that a parent dropped at the warehouse at 4am. The diligent repair guy woke up to fix the toy, only to find that someone else took care of it. But the father was disappointed with the repair man, even though the child had forgotten about the robot. So, Mr. Fix It found a note in his warehouse that said, "It's because of men like you who work hard for a good-night's sleep, that a child wakes up men like us! Next time, at least wish us Good Night before you ignore."

It was 11am on a Saturday and my lovely life was there; hungry, half-naked and almost homeless.