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Wednesday, September 6th, 2006
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Happy Onam to All!
Here is an interesting true life tale of an inspired individual that you may or may not have read. Hopefully, Sharatbabu will become an example to others thereby helping shape a better tomorrow for India.
The inspiring rags-to-riches tale of Sarathbabu
Shobha Warrier
August 31, 2006
Original Rediff Article
 Sarathbabu
When 27-year old Sarathbabu graduated from the Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad, he created quite a stir by refusing a job that offered him a huge salary. He preferred to start his own enterprise -- Foodking Catering Service -- in Ahmedabad.
He was inspired by his mother who once sold idlis on the pavements of Chennai, to educate him and his siblings. It was a dream come true, when Infosys co-founder N R Narayana Murthy lit the traditional lamp and inaugurated Sarathbabu's enterprise.
Sarathbabu was in Chennai, his hometown, a few days ago, to explore the possibility of starting a Foodking unit in the city and also to distribute the Ullas Trust Scholarships instituted by the IT firm Polaris to 2,000 poor students in corporation schools.
In this interview with rediff.com, Sarathbabu describes his rise from a Chennai slum to his journey to the nation's premier management institute to becoming a successful entrepreneur. This is his story, in his own words.
Childhood in a slum
I was born and brought up in a slum in Madipakkam in Chennai. I have two elder sisters and two younger brothers and my mother was the sole breadwinner of the family. It was really tough for her to bring up five kids on her meagre salary. As she had studied till the tenth standard, she got a job under the mid-day meal scheme of the Tamil Nadu government in a school at a salary of Rs 30 a month. She made just one rupee a day for six people.
So, she sold idlis in the mornings. She would then work for the mid-day meal at the school during daytime. In the evenings, she taught at the adult education programme of the Indian government. She, thus, did three different jobs to bring us up and educate us. Although she didn't say explicitly that we should study well, we knew she was struggling hard to send us to school. I was determined that her hard work should not go in vain.
I was a topper throughout my school days. In the mornings, we went out to sell idlis because people in slums did not come out of their homes to buy idlis. For kids living in a slum, idlis for breakfast is something very special. My mother was not aware of institutions like the Birla Institute of Technology and Science, Pilani, or the Indian Institutes of Technology. She only wanted to educate us so that we got a good job. I didn't know what I wanted to do at that time because in my friend-circle, nobody talked about higher education or preparing for the IIT-JEE.
When you constantly worry about the next square meal, you do not dream of becoming a doctor or an engineer. The only thing that was on my mind was to get a good job because my mother was struggling a lot. I got very good marks in the 10th standard exam. It was the most critical moment of my life. Till the 10th, there was no special fee but for the 11th and the 12th, the fees were Rs 2,000-3,000.I did book-binding work during the summer vacation and accumulated money for my school fees. When I got plenty of work, I employed 20 other children and all of us did the work together. That was my first real job as an entrepreneur. Once I saw the opportunity, I continued with the work.
Life at BITS, Pilani
Sarathbabau. Photograph: Sreeram SelvarajA classmate of mine told me about BITS, Pilani. He was confident that I would get admission, as I was the topper. He also told me that on completion (of studies at Pilani), I will definitely get a job.
When I got the admission, I had mixed feelings. On one hand I was excited that for the first time I was going out of Chennai, but there was also a sense of uncertainty. The fees alone were around Rs 28,000, and I had to get around Rs 42,000. It was huge, huge money for us. And there was no one to help us. Just my mother and sisters. One of my sisters -- they were all married by then -- pawned her jewellery and that's how I paid for the first semester. My mother then found out about an Indian government scholarship scheme. She sent me the application forms, I applied for the scholarship, and I was successful. So, after the first semester, it was the scholarship that helped me through. It also helped me to pay my debt (to the sister who had pawned her jewellery). I then borrowed money from my other sister and repaid her when the next scholarship came.
The scholarship, however, covered only the tuition fees. What about the hostel fees and food? Even small things like a washing soap or a toothbrush or a tube of toothpaste was a burden. So, I borrowed more at high rates of interest. The debt grew to a substantial amount by the time I reached the fourth year.
First year at BITS, Pilani
To put it mildly, I was absolutely shocked. Till then, I had moved only with students from poor families. At Pilani, all the students were from the upper class or upper middle class families. Their lifestyle was totally different from mine. The topics they discussed were alien to me. They would talk about the good times they had in school.
On the other hand, my school years were a big struggle. There was this communication problem also as I was not conversant in English then. I just kept quiet and observed them. I concentrated only on my studies because back home so many people had sacrificed for me. And, it took a really long time -- till the end of the first year -- to make friends.
Inspiration to be an entrepreneur
It was while preparing for the Common Admission Test that I read in the papers that 30 per cent of India's population does not get two meals a day. I know how it feels to be hungry. What should be done to help them, I wondered.
I also read about Infosys and Narayana Murthy, Reliance and Ambani. Reliance employed 20,000-25,000 people at that time, and Infosys, around 15,000. When a single entrepreneur like Ambani employed 25,000 people, he was supporting the family, of four or five, of each employee. So he was taking care of 100,000 people indirectly. I felt I, too, should become an entrepreneur.
But, my mother was waiting for her engineer son to get a job, pay all the debts, build a pucca house and take care of her. And here I was dreaming about starting my own enterprise. I decided to go for a campus interview, and got a job with Polaris. I also sat for CAT but I failed to clear it in my first attempt. I worked for 30 months at Polaris. By then, I could pay off all the debts but I hadn't built a proper house for my mother. But I decided to pursue my dream. When I took CAT for the third time, I cleared it and got calls from all the six IIMs. I got admission at IIM, Ahmedabad.
Life at IIM, Ahmedabad
My college helped me get a scholarship for the two years that I was at IIM. Unlike in BITS, I was more confident and life at IIM was fantastic. I took up a lot of responsibilities in the college. I was in the mess committee in the first year and in the second year; I was elected the mess secretary.
By the end of the second year, there were many lucrative job offers coming our way, but in my mind I was determined to start something on my own. But back home, I didn't have a house. It was a difficult decision to say 'no' to offers that gave you Rs 800,000 a year. But I was clear in my mind even while I knew the hard realities back home.
Yes, my mother had been an entrepreneur, and subconsciously, she must have inspired me. My inspirations were also (Dhirubhai) Ambani and Narayana Murthy. I knew I was not aiming at something unachievable. I got the courage from them to start my own enterprise.
Nobody at my institute discouraged me. In fact, at least 30-40 students at the IIM wanted to be entrepreneurs. And we used to discuss about ideas all the time. My last option was to take up a job.
Foodking Catering Services Pvt Ltd
My mother is my first inspiration to start a food business. Remember I started my life selling idlis in my slum. Then of course, my experience as the mess secretary at IIM-A was the second inspiration. I must have handled at least a thousand complaints and a thousand suggestions at that time. Every time I solved a problem, they thanked me.
I also felt there is a good opportunity in the food business. If you notice, a lot of people who work in the food business come from the weaker sections of the society. My friends helped me with registering the company with a capital of Rs 100,000. Because of the IIM brand and also because of the media attention, I could take a loan from the bank without any problem. I set up an office and employed three persons. The first order was from a software company in Ahmedabad. They wanted us to supply tea, coffee and snacks. We transported the items in an auto.
When I got the order from IIM, Ahmedabad, I took a loan of Rs 11 lakhs (Rs 1.1 million) and started a kitchen. So, my initial capital was Rs 11.75 lakhs (Rs 1.17 million). Three months have passed, and now we have forty employees and four clients -- IIM Ahmedabad, Darpana Academy, Gujarat Energy Research Management Institute and System Plus.
In the first month of our operation, we earned around Rs 35,000. Now, the turnover is around Rs 250,000. The Chennai operations will start in another three months' time.
Ambition
I want to employ as many people as I can, and improve their quality of life. In the first year, I want to employ around 200-500 people. In the next five years, I hope to increase it by 15,000. I am sure it is possible. I want to cover all the major cities in India, and later, I want to go around the world too. I have seen people from all walks of life -- from the slums to the elite in the country. That is why luxuries like a car or a bungalow do not matter to me. Even money doesn't matter to me. I feel bad if I have to have food in a five star hotel. I feel guilty. Personally, I have no ambition but I want to give a house and a car to my mother.
Appreciation
I did not expect this kind of exposure by the media for my venture or appreciation from people like my director at the IIM or Narayana Murthy. I was just doing what I wanted to do. But the exposure really helped me get orders, finance, everything. The best compliments I received were from Narayana Murthy and my director at IIM, Ahmedabad. When I told him (IIM-A director) about my decision to start a company, he hugged me and wished me luck. They have seen life, they have seen thousands and thousands of students and if they say it is a good decision, I am sure it is a good decision.
Reservation
Reservation should be a mix of all criteria. If you take a caste that comes under reservation, 80 per cent of the people will be poor and 20 per cent rich, the creamy layer. For the general category, it will be the other way around. I feel equal weightage should be given for the economic background. A study has to be done on what is the purpose of reservation and what it has done to the needy. It should be more effective and efficient. In my case, I would not have demanded for reservation. I accepted it because the society felt I belonged to the deprived class and needed a helping hand.
Today, the opportunities are grabbed by a few. They should be ashamed of their ability if they avail reservation even after becoming an IAS officer or something like that. They are putting a burden on the society and denying a chance to the really needy. I feel reservation is enough for one generation. For example, if the child's father is educated, he will be able to guide the child properly. Take my case, I didn't have any system that would make me aware of the IITs and the IIMs. But I will be able to guide my children properly because I am well educated. I got the benefits of reservation but I will never avail of it for my children. I cannot even think of demanding reservation for the next generation.
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Sunday, October 23rd, 2005
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Saturday, October 22nd, 2005
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The Special Column below appeared in Reddiff India Abroad on October 21, 2005.
How M S Oberoi became India's greatest hotelier
M S Oberoi | October 21, 2005
I was researching India's Industrialists when I met Mohan Singh Oberoi (1900-2002) for the first time. It was 1982, he was no longer a young man. Courtly as always, he offered to make my job easier.
He would write a note on himself, which I could use as background material. The note arrived a week later and lay among my notes for the next twenty years.
As the managing editor of The Smart Manager, it gives me immense pleasure to publish this short autobiography as a tribute to India's greatest hotelier.
The Oberoi Group, founded in 1934, owns and manages thirty hotels and five luxury cruisers across six countries under the 'Oberoi' & 'Trident' brands. The activities of the Group include airline catering, management of restaurants and airport bars, travel and tour services, car rental, project management and corporate air charters.
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 M.S. Oberoi
M S OberoiI was born on August 15, 1900 in a small village, Bhaun in district Jhelum, which now forms a part of Pakistan. The story of my life has been, in many ways, a dramatic one -- full of difficulties and hardships, in earlier days and later a spectacular rise to the position I now hold.
But this was not achieved without incessant toil and a daily fight against tremendous odds. Yet it was a challenge to prove myself. When I look back to those days, as I sometimes do, in moments of leisure, I am thankful that I was able to accept this challenge and make good.
These reflections also make me feel humble for I realise it was with God's help that I achieved what the world calls 'success.'
My father, Shri A S Oberoi was a contractor in Peshawar, who died when I was only six months old. The family consisted of my mother and myself. My earlier days were spent in the little village of my birth. I began my education at the village school. Later, I was sent to the nearby town of Rawalpindi and enrolled in the DAV school from where I matriculated.
After this I went to Lahore to join college and passed my Intermediate Examination. My studies were cut short as our already meagre finances began to dwindle. This was a moment of anxiety in my life as I realised that my qualifications would not get me a job.
However, at the suggestion of a friend, I went to Amritsar, stayed with him and took a course in shorthand and typing.
There was still no job for me on the horizon and I decided to get back to my village, where it would be easier to live than in a big city. There followed a point of waiting and frustration. My uncle helped me to get a job in the Lahore Shoe Factory. My work was to supervise the manufacture and sale of shoes.
For a while, things looked brighter but the star of ill luck was still in the ascendant and soon the factory was closed down for lack of finances and I was compelled to return to my village.
In India the importance attached to marriage is beyond all reason. Here I was penniless, jobless and almost friendless, but in spite of these very real disadvantages, my marriage was arranged with the daughter of Shri Ushnak Rai, who belonged to my village. I think my bright looks may have influenced my father-in-law.
I like to think that in spite of other shortcomings I was a smart lad and he probably assessed that I would make good. The days immediately following my marriage were spent with my in-laws in Sargodha.
On my return to Bhaun, a virulent plague epidemic had broken out. My mother told me that since I could not do any-thing to help in such a situation, I should go back to Sargodha and not risk my life.
Plague, in those days was a terrible killer and people naturally dreaded an epidemic, which often wiped out villages. Sadly, I left full of apprehension about my future.
In this mood of depression, I saw an advertisement in the local newspaper for the post of a junior clerk in a government office. With Rs 25 in my pocket, which my mother had given me, I left for Simla to appear for the examination.
Unprepared as I was, I was unable to pass. This did not lessen my depression. My time was now spent walking around Simla and rambling in the countryside. Being the summer seat of the government of India, the town itself was full of high-ranking officers and members of the Viceroy's Council.
But the hillsides, beyond officialdom were beautiful and there were many walks where one could be alone with one's thoughts.
One day, as I was passing the Hotel Cecil, I suddenly had the urge to go in and try my luck. Those were the days when this hotel was one of India's leading hotels, high class and elegant. It was owned by the line of Associated Hotels of India.
As I entered, I found the manager himself in the foyer. I did not know who he was but one becomes bold in the face of difficulties. I had nothing to lose, so I went up and asked if I could have a job in the hotel.
The manager was a kindly English gentleman named D W Grove. I was also given the post of billing clerk at Rs 40 a month. Soon, my salary was raised to Rs 50.
At my request, on the plea of being married, I was also given living quarters. These were situated on the outer periphery of the hotel and were very humble indeed. When my wife joined me in Simla, we started to settle down in our modest home.
Here we were faced with the necessity of cleaning the place ourselves. The quarters were in a bad shape and far from clean, but we were thankful to have a roof over our heads.
We had to whitewash the walls ourselves, causing blisters on my hands and the consequent discomfort and embarrassment for me in the hotel work.
Soon after I joined the Cecil, there was a change of management. Mr Clarke succeeded Mr Grove as manager. For the first time a small piece of luck came my way.
My knowledge of stenography helped me take over the post of cashier and stenographer to Mr Clarke, and thus began my grounding on how hotels run. I worked and maintained an interest in my job. The fact that I knew my efforts were noted encouraged me.
It was while I was working in this capacity that Pandit Motilal Nehru came to stay at the Cecil, which was his usual place of residence when he came to Simla. He was then leader of the newly formed Swaraj Party but known throughout the country for having renounced a princely law practice to participate in the Freedom Movement with Mahatma Gandhi.
Panditji had an important report, which needed to by typed speedily and with care. I sat up all night to complete the report and when I delivered it to him the next morning, he took out a hundred-rupee note and handed it to me with a word of thanks.
I am an emotional person and had received little kindness in my short life. This gesture of Panditji's brought tears to my eyes and I quickly left the room.
I could not have guessed then that I had met the father of the future prime minister of India, and that I myself would be one day a Member of Parliament during his leadership. One hundred rupees, which the wealthy throw away, was for me a fortune and made a big difference in my salary.
So high was the purchasing power of the rupee that I was able to buy a wristwatch for my wife, clothes for our baby and a much needed raincoat for myself.
In 1924, Mr Clarke decided to go into the hotel business for himself. His contract with the Associated Hotels of India had just ended. He obtained a catering contract for the Delhi Club and asked me if I could join him. I readily accepted the offer. My salary was now Rs 100.
The Delhi Club contract was only for a year and Mr Clarke soon began looking around for new business. The Carlton Hotel in Simla was in liquidation. Mr Clarke was eager to lease it but guarantors were required.
Here I was able to help and thus discharge a part of the moral debt, which his kindness and consideration in the past had placed upon me.
I approached some of my relatives and friends who had means to assist with their co-operation. The Clarkes Hotel in Simla was opened. After five years, Mr Clarke decided to retire and sell out the hotel. He made me an offer saying he would prefer someone who could maintain the tradition and efficiency of the hotel to run it.
Acceptance meant that I would have to mortgage my few assets and my wife's jewellery in order to raise the necessary funds. However, I did not hesitate long.
The opportunity seemed almost a Godsend, as we Indians are a superstitious people. I took over the proprietorship of Clarkes Hotel with the help of a kind uncle who had stood by me in the past. I was now established in the Hotel business.
It is a strange coincidence that nearly every turn in my life has been associated with an epidemic of some sort. In 1933 there had been a cholera epidemic of vast proportions in Calcutta (now Kolkata). The Grand Hotel had been closed ever since, as more than a hundred foreign guests had died. People were afraid to visit Calcutta.
I happened to see the advertisement placed by the liquidators and immediately decided to take over the hotel if I could get in on low leasehold.
The price asked was Rs 10,000 rent a month plus compensation for the goodwill. In return I demanded compensation for the ill will generated by the hotel.
The rent was then dropped to Rs 7,000 a month. I agreed to this figure and had the place cleaned up and refurnished. With the outbreak of the Second World War in 1939, Calcutta was full of troops. The British Army was frantically trying to find accommodation.
I immediately improvised 1,500 beds for the troops at Rs 10 per head for board and lodging. I also appointed Mr Grove, who had been my first employer at the Cecil Hotel where he had engaged me on Rs 50 a month, on a monthly salary of Rs 1,500.
Taking over a cholera-ridden hotel had been a landmark in my career. The fact that I converted it and helped the Army in the time of stress and difficulty had come to the notice of the government. In 1941, I was awarded the title of Rai Bahadur by the government of India in recognition of the services to the Indian Hotel Industry.
From now on my good luck was assured and gradually I went on increasing the scope of my activities with, I hope benefit to many and much fulfilment to myself. Everything I did prospered.
In 1943, I bought out the controlling shareholdings of Associated Hotels of India Limited from Spencer & Company borrowing capital against the security of shares of the same company. In this way, I gained control over a big chain of hotels with establ-ishments in Rawalpindi, Peshawar, Lahore, Muree and Delhi.
I employed as one of my general managers, the son of my former boss in Simla, Mr Falleti. The wheel had turned a full circle. I gradually added more hotels to my chain in Darjeeling, Chandigarh and Kashmir. I began to think of building my own hotels, and the first attempt was a small hotel in Gopalpur-on-Sea, in Orissa.
India was now independent. Horizons had widened. I began to feel the world was my oyster -- that I could succeed in anything I attempted. Fortunately, I also realised that it was not good enough to keep launching new ventures if old ones were allowed to suffer. Too often efficiency and high standards once established are taken for granted.
This is a great mistake and my constant aim has been to preserve the reputation of my hotels at the highest possible level. This pays many kinds of dividends. I was elected President of the Federation of Hotel and Restaurant Associations of India in April 1955, and in 1960. I was created President of Honour of the Federation for life.
My thoughts turned to politics. India was forging ahead. By the grace of God any my own continuous efforts, I had established myself in the profession of my choice. I felt I must enlarge the scope of my activities.
My main interest was building India amongst the top-most countries in the hotel expertise, also providing employment for improving the quality of life and helping the young.
I contested the Rajya Sabha election in 1962 and was successful. In 1967, I stood for the election for the Lok Sabha and won with a majority of over 46,000 votes -- not a bad record for a newcomer in politics.
I was able to open the Oberoi Intercontinental Hotel in 1965 -- a joint venture with Inter-continental Hotels Corporation and Pan American. Before this event could take place there were years of work and what some-times seemed innumerable difficulties. The reward for my labour comes through the fact that this hotel has become one of the most prestigious establishments in India.
My hotels continued to expand. Some people refer to them as my Empire. A hotel is a small nation in itself and a chain does perhaps merit the name of Empire. This empire is not an imperialistic one, but rather based on the idea of rendering service. This has always been my wish and my endeavour.
The latest additions are in Singapore, Saudi Arabia, Sri Lanka, Nepal, Gulf Area, Egypt and Africa. I must not forget to mention the 550 rooms Oberoi Sheraton in Bombay, going up to 30 floors -- the tallest building in India.
This has been no mean achievement for the village boy, who left his plague infested village in search of a job.
Preface note by Dr Gita Piramal, Managing Editor, The Smart Manager.
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Thursday, August 18th, 2005
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The other night while watching a re-rerun of an old "The Tonight Show", Jay Leno made this remark.
"The Wizard of Oz is relevant even today. Look at Washington, Cheney needs a Heart, GW needs a Brain and the Senate needs Courage".
No wonder I like Leno over Letterman.
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Thursday, July 14th, 2005
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NYT Op-Ed Contributor
A Passage From India
by SUKETU MEHTA
Published: July 12, 2005
ACCORDING to a confidential memorandum, I.B.M. is cutting 13,000 jobs in the United States and in Europe and creating 14,000 jobs in India. From 2000 to 2015, an estimated three million American jobs will have been outsourced; one in 10 technology jobs will leave these shores by the end of this year. Stories like these have aroused a primal fear in the Western public: that they might soon need to line up outside the Indian Embassy for work visas and their children will have to learn Hindi.
Just as my parents had to line up outside the American consulate in Bombay, and my sisters and I had to learn English. My father came to America in 1977 not for its political freedoms or its way of life, but for the hope of a better economic future for his children. My grandfathers on both sides left rural Gujarat in northwestern India to find work: one to Calcutta, which was even more remote in those days than New York is from Bombay now; and the other to Nairobi. Mobility, we have always known, is survival. Now I face the possibility that my children, when they grow up, will find their jobs outsourced to the very country their grandfather left to pursue economic opportunity.
The outsourcing debate seems to have mutated into a contest between the country of my birth and the country of my nationality. Of course I feel a loyalty to America: it gave my parents a new life and my sons were born here. I have a vested interest in seeing America prosper. But I am here because the country of my ancestors didn't understand the changing world; it couldn't change its technology and its philosophy and its notions of social mobility fast enough to fight off the European colonists, who won not so much with the might of advanced weaponry as with the clear logical philosophy of the Enlightenment. Their systems of thinking conquered our own. So, since independence, Indians have had to learn; we have had to slog for long hours in the classroom while the children of other countries went out to play.
When I moved to Queens, in New York City, at the age of 14, I found myself, for the first time in my life, considered good at math. In Bombay, math was my worst subject, and I regularly found my place near the bottom of the class rankings in that rigorous subject. But in my American school, so low were their standards that I was - to my parents' disbelief - near the top of the class. It was the same in English and, unexpectedly, in American history, for my school in Bombay included a detailed study of the American Revolution. My American school curriculum had, of course, almost nothing on the subcontinent's freedom struggle. I was mercilessly bullied during the 1979-80 hostage crisis, because my classmates couldn't tell the difference between Iran and India. If I were now to move with my family to India, my children - who go to one of the best private schools in New York - would have to take remedial math and science courses to get into a good school in Bombay.
Of course, India's no wonderland. It might soon have the world's biggest middle class, but it also has the world's largest underclass. A quarter of its one billion people live below the poverty line, 40 percent are illiterate, and the child malnutrition rate exceeds that of sub-Saharan Africa. There's a huge difference between the backwater state of Bihar and the boomtown of Bangalore. Those Indians who went to the United States, though, have done remarkably well: Indians make up one of the richest ethnic groups in this country. During the technology boom of the late 1990's, Indians were responsible for 10 percent of all the start-ups in Silicon Valley. And in this year's national spelling bee, the top four contestants were of South Asian origin.
There is a perverse hypocrisy about the whole jobs debate, especially in Europe. The colonial powers invaded countries like India and China, pillaged them of their treasures and commodities and made sure their industries weren't allowed to develop, so they would stay impoverished and unable to compete. Then the imperialists complained when the destitute people of the former colonies came to their shores to clean their toilets and dig their sewers; they complained when later generations came to earn high wages as doctors and engineers; and now they're complaining when their jobs are being lost to children of the empire who are working harder than they are. My grandfather was once confronted by an elderly Englishman in a London park who asked, "Why are you here?" My grandfather responded, "We are the creditors." We are here because you were there.
The rich countries can't have it both ways. They can't provide huge subsidies for their agricultural conglomerates and complain when Indians who can't make a living on their farms then go to the cities and study computers and take away their jobs. Why are Indians willing to write code for a tenth of what Americans make for the same work? It's not by choice; it's because they're still struggling to stand on their feet after 200 years of colonial rule. The day will soon come when Indian companies will find that it's cheaper to hire computer programmers in Sri Lanka, and then it's there that the Indian jobs will go.
Of course, it's heart-wrenching to see American programmers - many of whom are of Indian origin - lose their jobs and have to worry about how they'll pay the mortgage. But they are ill served by politicians who promise to bring their jobs back by the facile tactic of banning them from leaving. This strategy will ensure only that our schools stay terrible; it'll be an entire country run like the dairy industry, feasible only because of price controls and subsidies.
But we have a resource of incalculable worth right here to help us compete: the immigrants who've been given a new life in America. There are many more Indians in the United States than there are Americans in India. Indian-Americans will help America understand India, trade with it to our mutual benefit. Just as Arab-Americans can help us fight Al Qaeda, Indian-Americans can help us deal with the emerging economic superpower that is India. This is the return of the gift of citizenship.
And just in case, I'm making sure my children learn Hindi.
Suketu Mehta is author of "Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found."</>
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Today went to Trader Joe's and while picking up my usual Indian Chappati's, curries, milk and snacks I saw this curious yellow "lemon-like" fruit kept for tasting. A notice nearby said "Skin can be eaten too". So I took one and popped it into my mouth and wow -- I fell instantly in love with the fruit. Picked up a pack lying nearby and found out that they are called Kumquats and were grown in California The skin is very sweet while the flesh inside is tangy tasting like a lemon-orange mix.
Came home and Googled to figure out more about them. They are originally from China and do belong to the Citrus family. Here is more info about Kumquats.
This article from St.Perterburg Times claims that Dade City area of Pasco County, Florida is the largest producer of Kumquats. They even celebrated Jan 29, 2005 as 8th Annual Kumquat Festival.
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Wednesday, May 18th, 2005
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 A photo-op with Ustad Amjad Ali Khan & Sons --- perks of being on the organizing committee !!!
 Looking down into the Well back home
 Best picture I ever took. Of course Sony gets its due too and oh ya Dad for growing the rose ;-). The lighting, the one leaf only and the clarity -- looks like once in a lifetime shot to me
 The TAJ
 Watching a soccer game & the Siene from the Eiffel
 Baby romeo looking at my attempted drunk act
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Was wondering if anybody had any insights into what is the history of the Nambiar sect or sub-caste. According to who or what I read, Nambiars are claimed as Nairs who were given a title to differentiate between higher and lower groups of Nairs (not my claim just what I read).
Another version claims Nambiars to be Ambalavasis.
Yet another version claims both to be true, with the Nambiars in North Malabar (Kannur region) being Nairs who were given a title while the Nambiars towards Palakkad being the ones who are Ambalavasis.
Anybody having insights should comment ?
On a totally unrelated note, found that Nairs are said to have come down from Nepal/ Tibet region and hence the more fairer tone and larger size.
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Tuesday, April 26th, 2005
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This is the story of Siddharth - a 24 year-old with cerebral palsy who has overcome great barriers in his young life so far.
Here is the article
Siddharth's story made me optimistic, happy and motivated about my own self.
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Yup that is the title of the retrospective on Bacchan at the Walter Reade Theater at Lincoln Center. New York Times has this article on Amitabh Bacchan.
Below is how the article describes AB ...
Mr. Bachchan, now 62, has a commanding physical presence. His intense brown eyes, ringed with blue, can stare down a miscreant or disarm an audience with their sadness. And at 6 foot 3, he seems bigger on screen than everyone around him, with long, long legs that serve him equally well in his kick-heavy fight sequences and in dance scenes, where he has a playful charm - part clown, part dandy, part patrician on a romp. The patrician part is not surprising: his father was a famous Hindi poet and his family was close to the Nehru-Gandhi clan.
He created his most important screen persona in films like "Zanjeer" (1973), in which he plays a police inspector who seems to dispense justice single-handedly, and "Amar Akbar Anthony" (1977), in which he plays a Christian outlaw who in a wonderful statement of Indian secularism has a Hindu and a Muslim brother. Those characters are almost always spoken of and written about collectively as the Angry Young Man, but Mr. Bachchan does not think that is a good fit.
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