A complete paradigm shift

"I think I should start building watch towers right from the Dark Age and by the time I get into castle age, I can keep an eye on the enemy", I thought thinking of strategies to prevent the enemy from building Barracks right at my door step as it happened the day before.
Trrrriiinnnggg... the bell rang and the invigilator started handing over quesion papers. Age of Empires, a game by Microsoft, swept my B.Tech College boys hostel and I had been playing it the day before after finishing studying for the exam. I glanced over the question paper and started sweating. I had no clue about one two mark question and one five mark question, the rest I could answer quite well. That is seven marks gone out of hundred, eight more marks and I could bid farewell to S grade, the outstanding grade. Cursing Age of Empires, I started answering.
Three hours later, "How did you do?", "Phod diya kya?" kinda questions were floating around.
"Not very good. Seven marks straight in the bin", I answered
"That is ok, you can still get S", consoled my friend.
With no mood to have lunch, I went straight to my room to find out the answers to the questions I did not attempt and resolving to delete that wretched game.
I never knew what M.Tech would do to me.

I choose a place close to my friends, far from the inviligator. We were all fully armed. The innocent Professor allowed a cheat sheet - one sided A4 page. Naveen SSM squeezed around 40 slides in that one page - the entire syllabus. The invigilator looked at her watch and started distributing questions papers, the good old bell was missing. A lot of other things were missing - no bell to tell the time, no open windows, no streaming sunlight, no fresh air, no wooden benches, no anything which would suggest it was a room for humans not robots. The room was fully closed, airconditioned and computerized, the kind of room which makes me feel highly claustrophobic. I looked out of the window, the weather was awesome, just about to rain but not raining.
"Here", said a rough female voice snapping me out of my day dream.
Resisting the urge to run out for breath, I looked at the question paper and felt elated.
"How did it go?", asked a friend an hour later when I got out of the examination hall, also being the first person to get out.
"Better than I had expected. I could attempt twenty marks out of fifty. Guess I can manage a C grade now", I said happily walking towards the canteen for a cup of coffee to celebrate!

Earphones and a Box of Chocolates

“You guys from Andhra Pradesh think life is like a movie”, one of my friend always taunts me.

I try to argue that it is actually the other way round, movies and novels are inspired by incidents in real life.
“Come on, you think all the script writers are so imaginative to conceive an entire plot on their own ?”, I keep asking but all I get is a silence and strong disapproval. A week back, I think I proved myself beyond doubt.

My Apple earphones choose the week before Diwali to stop working properly. At high volumes, the right earphone was producing a buzzing noise. Since I was aware that my ear is full of earwax, I asked one of my friend to test it. When he confirmed the presence of the buzz interrupting the music, I headed straight to forum to get it replaced; it had one year warranty.

“This is the second time I am facing this problem, what the hell is wrong with Apple earphones?”, I asked the service guy.

“Yes sir, there seem to be a problem with the apple ear phones. Today morning, a customer got his replaced for the fourth time”, he said causing my eyebrows to raise in surprise, I was under the impression that my rough usage was the reason or maybe everyone uses it roughly to get them replaced; Apple has the habit of making everything white which get soiled easily and a pure white replacement is lucrative; previously I got my white-turned-brown-earphones earphones having a similar problem replaced with pure white ones so this time I was not pissed off, in fact I was looking forward to lay my hands on ones.

“They will be ready in two working days, Sir”, he said handing me the Material Acceptance Form. I nodded and left the showroom.

Two working days later, which was actually 4 days because of the weekend, I walked in the showroom producing the form. After 10 minutes I was informed that the stock did not arrive yet.

“Please give us two more days, Sir”, said the service guy.

I was angry but because it was festive season, did not show it, it was the week of Diwali. I quietly left the showroom.

Two days later I was back with the form. I was made to wait 20 minutes and then,

“We are sorry sir. Apple had sent In-Ear earphones by mistake. We need three more days to send it back to Apple and get the correct piece”, said the service guy cautiously thinking that I might explode.

“It is ok. I will take them”, I said controlling my anger.

“Sorry sir but they cost Rs4000. We need to send them back”, he said.

With my fist clenched, I grabbed the form and left the show room. The moment I walked out of Forum, I had another idea. I ran back,

“Can I have a look at them?”, I asked.

“Sure Sir”, he said and came out with a pack of sparkling white earphones packed attractively in a white triangular case with a transparent lid. The earphones and the packing had Apple written all over it, I mean only Apple can make things so attractive. I immediately fell in love.

“I will pay the price difference and take it”, I said.

“Sorry Sir, that is not an option”, I was informed.

Highly disappointed, I left. The thought of purchasing them for Rs4000 was pulling me back.

“This is the time to listen to your mind not your heart”, I told myself and forced myself on a bus back.

Three days later, I called the showroom.

“They are not yet ready Sir”, I was informed.

I cut the call without another word. I could find no words to express my frustration. I sat in front of my laptop and composed a mail.

From: G Jayanth

To: Imagine

Subject: Horribe service

Hi,

I am utterly disappointed with the service provided at Imagine, forum. The iTouch earphones which I had given for replacement on 28th Oct, 2010 are not yet replaced. I was patient last week because it was festive season but asking me to wait till next Saturday is too much.
There was a mistake when Apple had sent the wrong earphone and I was prepared to pay the price difference and collect the In-Ear earphones but was declined and was
assured that I would get the correct ones on Tuesday (i.e yesterday).

In this competitive world, this kind of service is totally unacceptable and is very bad for Imagine too. I have already transferred my loyalty to Reliance. Collecting my replaced ear phones will be my last transaction with Imagine.

MAF: 10622

Regards,
Jayanth
(Author of Exotic Engineer Entrepreneur)

 

Within two hours, I got a call.

“Sir, your earphones are ready. Will you collect them today?”, asked a pleasant female voice.

“I will try to but am not sure if I can”, I said.

I was busy the whole day and couldn't go. The next day, I again got a call.

“Sir, I am calling from Imagine. Will you come today to collect your ear phones”, asked a male voice.

“I really am not sure. My schedule these days is a bit hectic”, I said importantly.

“Would you like us to courier it to your address?”, he asked.

“No. I will come sometime”, I said marveling at the impact the mail had.

Was it because of the signature? I have no idea.

The next day I got another call asking me the same. I politely declined wondering what was wrong.

It was the next day I had the chance to go. I had no idea I would be treated to a wonderful surprise.

I handed over the Material Acceptance Form and stood waiting as usual.

“Sir, you can have these. You do not need to pay anything extra”, said a guy dressed up in white coveralls and handed me the earphones I fell in love with.

I was speechless. I took it from his hand and could not take my eyes off it.

“Sir, here is a small token of apology from our side”, said the guy handing me a box to swiss chocolates.

I had the sudden impulse to burst out laughing but controlled myself. Instead, I put a whether-to-accept-or-nor face and just stood silently.

“Jayanth, take it”, both my mind and heart were screaming.

I took it.

“I hope you will visit us anytime you need something”, he said apologetically.

I had neither resources nor plans to buy anything from Apple but,

“Hmmm.. ok sure”, I said and took the box of chocolates. All I wanted to do was to get out of the store and laugh to my heart's content!

But there were formalities to be completed.

After giving them a rather dissatisfied kind of feedback and assuring them that next time I would rate them better, I literally ran out of the store and, out of amazement, elation, burst out laughing.

So people, remember customer is the King, one of the most important advantage a common man has in this competitive world! Use it wisely :-).

When God conspires....

The world is changing. Those who cannot keep pace will fade away and soon be forgotten. This was what happened to the canteen of IIIT Bangalore, loyal but nameless, the caterers were stuck up with biscuits and coffee. 13^th November, 2010 was their last day in the campus. They were replaced with caterers who could provide Butter Dosa.

But Deepthi Karnam, the most enthusiastic girl in IIIT Bangalore, decided that even if we would forget them they should not forget us. She made this possible with two bottles of Soft Drinks, a box of Cadbury celebrations, Haldiram Son-papdi and a bunch of her friends. We gave a tiny farewell to the dismissed four member staff on their last eve in the college campus. They were surprised and really happy. One of the staff happened to be from Kerala and talking with him brought back memories of my Kerala trip.

The trip which taught me that how much ever you plan there is just no use because chaos is a part of our life, the world and the universe.Divine intervention could disrupt even the best laid plans.

It was the first trip I ever organized and took great pains in planning everything down to the last detail. Mom, sis and me would travel from Chennai to Ernakulum where a taxi would be waiting for us. We would have breakfast and head towards Munnar to spend two days in the most beautiful part of the country. Then a day in Thekkady, where we would go shopping for spices in the afternoon. Mom would then rest in the hotel; me and sis would go on a night safari, by walk. The next night, we would spend in a house boat. Kerala, God's own country! But God tried everything to keep us off his lands.

“Where the hell is my wallet?”, I muttered looking around. I was sure I kept it in my pocket. After half a day of frantic searching, I had to admit defeat. It was lost. I was crippled. ATM cards, driving license, PAN card – all lost. It would take at least a month for me to apply and get all the cards back.

“Oh my God! I lost my driving license”, I shouted.

“I know. Apply for it. You will get the duplicate in a month”, said Mom.

“We are going to Kerala in five days. The ticket without my license is invalid”, I said sitting slumped.

Those who are familiar with the old IRCTC rules will know that the only way out was to cancel my ticket and make Mom the Master passenger with her PhotoID and that was what I did. I booked myself on a bus since the train was overflowing.

Two days before the trip, God turned his wrath on Keerthi, my sister.

“Jayanth, Abdul Kalam is coming and SASTRA has sealed itself. No one can take leave. All permissions to go home stand cancelled”, she wailed.

After half an hour of discussion, we decided that the best way out was for her to come directly from Thanjavur a day later. A dent in the best laid plans. Mom and me had to wait for Keerthi in Ernakulam on the first day and spend a day less in Munnar. I was dejected. Munnar was the place I wanted to visit the most. Also, we were split up. Instead of happily going together, I was going in a bus, mom and sis in two different trains on two different days!

It was the day of the journey. Mom didn't have a mobile phone so I gave her mine and headed towards the bus stand to catch the afternoon bus. Mom would catch a train that evening.

“Jayanth, Jayanth”, I heard Mom's voice in the bus stand. Perplexed, I turned around and saw her hurrying towards me.

“What are you doing in the bus stand”, I shouted.

“I was cleaning the house and tore the train ticket”, she said handing me shreds of her evening train ticket.

I was speechless for a moment and then burst out laughing. God has his style. Fifteen minutes were left for the bus to leave. I told Mom to somehow delay the bus if I was late and rushed towards the nearest Internet cafe to take another printout.

The trip was fun. Night Safari on foot, Speed Boat, Rowing Boat, Elephant Ride, Bugs Bunny Carrots, Echo Point we had nothing to complain. But God was not done with us yet.

We were going to Allepey for the Houseboat and were almost there when my phone rang.

“Sir, we are calling from Hotel Mountain View, we found a purse in your room”, said a male voice.

I turned around and relayed he information to mom and sis hoping against hope it was not ours.

“It has a five hundred rupee note and a PAN card. G Keerthi is the name”, he continued

I cursed.

“Oh shit! I am not able to find my purse”, said my dear sis from the back seat.

“That is because it is around 200kms away”, I told her through clenched teeth.

I requested the Hotel to courier it to our address.

“Ok Jayanth, calm down. Even you lost your purse. Don't be angry”, I calmed myself down.

“Jayanth, my return train ticket. The PAN is my photoID”, she said in a low voice.

“WHAT!”, I shouted turning to face her. She was close to tears.

“Its ok. I am an expert at handling these things now. Lets just enjoy the houseboat now”, I consoled her.

Luckily that was the last thunderbolt God had in His arsenal.

We got back home safely and I fell into my usual routine of sitting in my cubicle dumbly staring at the computer screen feeling envious of the taxi driver who took us around.

God is Human, a rather cunning one :-)

Disclaimer: Fans of Sai Baba, don't stone me :P

A friend of mine called up today and started telling me about her visit to the Sai Baba temple. Like most girls, she finds the ways of Sai Baba, like fasting without staying hungry, very comfortable and hence is a fan. Or should I call it devotee? In one of my visit to his abode, I was served Marie Biscuits as prasad. Thus I think I will stick to calling her a fan rather than an old fashioned devotee. 
"We met the guy who built the temple and he was telling us about a few miracles which happened while the temple was being constructed", she said excitedly.
Instantly, I got prepared to start ridiculing.
"In one of the photo which was taken during the construction, the marble statue of Sai Baba which faces the fans (devotees) was facing towards the ceiling", she said.
"Humans have the power of making the Lord pray or was he requesting for a real fan?", I wondered but did not comment.
"It seems they did not have enough money to build the temple but one day Sai Baba came into their dreams and asked them to start building the temple", she said.
"Bugged of his present mansion?", I wanted to ask but remained silent.
"When they started building the temple, they often ran short out of money", she continued.
"Quite understandable", I ventured out my first innocent comment.
"It seems on the sameday, someone or the other used to call them and offered them the exact amount they needed.....", she said and I burst out laughing.
"Ok one question", I said laughing.
"What?", she asked rather irritated.
"If Sai Baba wants to give them money to build the temple, why not give them at one go saving them all the unnecessary trouble. He is God right so obviously he would know exactly how much would be required to build his home, wouldn't he?", I asked
"No man, everytime they needed some money, He would make sure they get the exact amount", she insisted supporting her idol.
"Why not all at one go?", I persisted
"I don't know man, his wish, now do you want to listen or not?", she asked.
"Ok Ok, go ahead", I said with a smile on my face

Later in the evening, I started thinking if the Lord really exists, is there any reason for him not give them the money at one go? Thinking like God, I could find no reason so I decided to think like a human and instantly I could recollect Dad fighting with the contractor while we were getting our house built.
"Sir, I need Rs20000 more to continue work", the contractor used to say.
"What! I gave you Rs15000 only 3 days back", Dad used to argue.
"But sir, I had to give wages, order bricks and cement..."
"And buy a new Motorbike. Ok, give me the bills and tell me exactly how much you need, I will give you only that much.", finished Dad looking at the contractor's brand new bike.

The analogy was striking!

Dad = Sai Baba
Contractor = Devotee/Fan
"Was Sai Baba cautious because he thought the people who were building a temple for him would use up the extra money for their luxuries and demand more later?", I wondered

"Is there any doubt about it?", I could hear Sai Baba reply with a smile. :-)

Google and You :P

This is the first short story of Vikram Galgotia, one of the protagonist in my debut novel, Exotic Engineer Entrepreneur.

"Vikram Galgotia", Vikram lazily typed in Google.com not knowing what else to search for. Post lunch, after a heavy meal in the cafeteria, he was feeling extremely drowsy. He especially blamed the curd but could never resist gulping a cup down at the end of the meal. Curd and Code do not go together. Let alone code, with eyes closing and the screen getting blurred, it was impossible for him to direct the mouse over to the Outlook Icon. He tried twice but fell asleep when the mouse was almost there and opened Internet Explorer instead. After IE opened for the second time instead of Outlook he decided not to try again.
The Google search results made him jump. He never thought he was so famous. But there it was, the truth staring at him. The first ten links were his; his facebook profile, his LinkedIn profile, his blogs and even his school! His school? He never knew his school had a site. He clicked it. His name was listed under his tenth class photo. He went through the list and felt joyous remembering the names of his old chums.
"I am famous", he muttered to himself happily after Google returned with accurate links the second time.
"Well, though not very good academically, I was a boy scout at school. Topped two class tests which were especially tough, got admission in a decent college for higher studies. Engineering was not so bad too and now a job in an MNC", he started musing.
As he reiterated over his past, he began to wonder why he never realized he could be famous. This knowledge had made his day. No longer drowsy, he started working.

Thousands of miles away, in Googleplex
"Did you find a way to test our improved search algorithm?"
"Yes"
"How do you do it?"
"Locate someone who is very insignificant and run a search on him"
"How do you plan to locate someone so insignificant?"
"Through social networking sites"
"Did you find anyone?"
"We narrowed down to one person in India"
"Run the test"
Vikram Golgatia. The Google computers whirred and clicked and displayed the results successfully.
The room erupted in celebration.

That night, among millions of people who celebrated birthday parties, promotions, wedding anniversaries, golden jubilee etc etc., two celebrations were strangely connected. 
Vikram Galgotia celebrated because he realized he was quite famous, at least Google knows him. The employees of Google celebrated because their search engine could now dig out information about the most insignificant person on earth.

Killing shoes!

I never knew buying a pair of shoes could bring me closer to death(exagerrating a bit :P) than a ride in highest rollercoaster or the scariest bungee jump. Sitting in front of the computer, I was drowsily reading about Bezier curves, they seemed interesting but starting is always tough. I noticed a new mail in my inbox and switched windows. The new mail, from a member in Bangalore Bikers Club, read
"I had been Decathlon on Saturday to pick up MTB shorts and as I passed by the cycling shoe section happened to see 8 XC cycling shoes which was priced at Rs5,999 was being sold at Rs1,499..."

I jumped up! To hell with Beizer curves! "I am not going to miss this offer"!
I heard about these shoes on one of my cycling rides. Avinash and me were leading the group. We stopped for rest and he simple fell off the bike, just like that; ride, stop and fall. He smiled sheepishly and told me he forgot to "disengage the shoes". Taking a closer look at the shoes, I realised that when engaged, they stick to the pedals enabling the rider to pull the pedals too instead of just the usual pushing action. I resolved to buy them but canceled the resolution immediately when he told me the shoes had cost him Rs6000 and the compatible pedal set Rs1200, way beyond what I could afford!

Confirming the offer was still on, I suspended the computer and was off to Decathlon.
Within two hours, the bike and me were equipped and I was ready to try out the new accessories. Excitedly, I took a quick glance at the manual, read how to engage the shoes and sped away cycling. After struggling a bit, the right shoe got "engaged" and with a little lesser struggle, the left shoe got "engaged". The new cycling style felt good. Previously, cycling was like "right push... left push.. right push.." but now it became "right push left pull.. left push right pull...".
I saw a cluster of red lights a little ahead and slowed down, traffic jam! Suddenly, I realized I forgot to read how to "disengage" the shoes. I was slowing down but my shoes were stuck to the pedals! Struggling to free my legs, I watched in horror as a the tail lamps of a Honda City came closer and closer. I could not stop with my legs tied to the pedals! I would fall off!I decided to stop alongside the City and support myself with my hand on the car but maneuvering was going to be very tricky; the car was very close to the divider. When there were just a couples of meters to spare, the left shoe got free and I immediately braked hard coming to a halt. For a few seconds, I remained a bit shaken imagining what would have happened otherwise - fallen off, scratched the car, smashed against the divider? But soon I composed myself and burst out laughing. It was really funny to imagine myself falling off  because my legs were stuck to the pedals and I remembered Avinash's incident.

I crossed the traffic jam, practiced a little and picked up speed.
I am now pretty comfortable with my new shoes but questions still stare at me. Was it a wise investment? What if I had to brake suddenly? What if.. What it.. What if.. only time will tell :-).

The silver orb

 Click For More Photos

I stared at the silver orb dreaming to own it. But for a 2nd Year B.Tech student, the price was staggering. I cursed Shashank for showing it to me the day before because since then I could think of nothing else. The silver orb, a replacement to my Philips Walkman. I wondered how many people round the globe were viewing this page and eagerly clicking on "Add to cart" endangering one of Sony's pioneering invention. Digital mp3 players were soon going to rule the music world. But two thousand eight hundred rupees....
"..techfest cash price 15000... Mumbai... Line follower.... Micro mouse..." I over heard the seniors sitting beside me in the departmant browsing center. I opened the IIT, Powai techfest site. Most of the competitions involved making robots or creating web sites or presenting papers, cash prices were highly attractive ranging from Rs5000 to Rs20000, but none interested me. Suddenly I saw the title "CRO 1.0", intrigued I clicked on it.
"Create a dot-dash game to be played on a CRO using 8051 microcontroller. It should be a 1-Player game with a Human player playing aganist the computer"
Microcontroller was a black box to me and a CRO, well with all the dials and knobs, was a nightmare. We often ended up turning random knobs and toggling random buttons to get some output during lab sessions. But I knew this was the competition I ought to register for and immediately signed up.
First learn 8051 then CRO, I decided.
After a week of ardous study in the library about the 8051, I went shopping and bought the microcontroller, its programmer, soldering iron, solder wire, resistors, capisitors, clock crystal, batteries and other odds and ends spendng Rs2000. In a week, after burning a few micontrollers and messing around with soldering, I could design a circuit and write code to blink an LED. Next, the CRO, an hour of online lessons and I knew the purpose of every dial and button. I started showing off in the lab too. Our HOD, a thin lean man, flatly refused me a CRO after lab hours but I wrenched it out from higher authorities without his knowledge. It offended him but I didnt care, he was a snob anyway.

So there I was after class hours in the lab with a mess of wires, a CRO beside the monitor, the monitor filled with lines of assembly code, circuits and batteries all around me and a small keypad in my hand with which I was moving a dot on the CRO, the lab technicians were highly amused and told me they have never seen anything like this in the lab before. This apparatus earned me friendship and respect from every technician in the lab for the rest of my stay in the college. But the HOD, well the snob just started ignoring me. Well anyway, it is common knowledge that in India, lab technicians are often more knowledgeable and useful than many PhD profs!

I was sitting staring at the CRO filled with dots and a few dashes; I was playing aganist the microcontroller. I had to start to Mumbai the next day. The game was ready, except for one small bug, it was behaving erratically at times. I went over the whole assembly code, line by line, at least 10 times, everything seemed perfect. I had the scribbled memory map in front of me. There was no operating system and I had to carefully manage the usage of every byte in the 128byte RAM.
"Wish I had more time", I shouted aloud.
Everyday, I had access to the CRO only for five hours, from 5pm to 10pm, a big handicap!
"Lab will close in half an hour", shouted the assistant, I raised my hand in acknowledgement and started going over the memory map.
"Oh my god!", I exclaimed after 15 minutes of examining. One byte in the memory was having two addresses and I was happily using it as two bytes corrupting it and hence the erratic behaviour!
I furiously made changes to the code and finished when just five minutes were left, the assistant was turning off the lights. Quickly, I compiled and burned the program into the controller and started tesing it.

"Dad, I am going tomorrow", I called up and told dad half an hour later. Reliance has just introduced the Reliance to Reliance anywhere in India free offer and we spoke for about half an hour. In the end, Dad decided to accompany me to Mumbai. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry; on one hand, it would be nice to show him what I had made but on the other had, techfest in Mumbai, the crowd was going to be colourful ;).

The IIT lab was dazzling, it was state-of-art. If you had seen Iron Man, it was like I was Tony Stark working in the Afghan Caves while the IIT Teams were Tony Stark working in his own futuristic lab! But a few of them were still struggling. In contrast to my simple circuit, some had a briefcase filled with ICs. I thought I stood no chance and just decided to enjoy the fest.

"The third prize goes to Jayanth from sastra. He is the youngest participant and did it all by himself", announced the judge. I was stunned. The allowed team size was four but I work alone. I had all my things packed, ready to leave after applauding the winners. Visitors who had played my game came forwarded to congratulate me while I was still in daze.

The cash prize was Rs3000 with which I got my first mp3 player. The irony was, I spent around Rs5000 in developing the apparatus but I guess it was fair to ask Dad the money to buy educational stuff and spend the winnings on entertainment :-)

The Eggs and Me

"Oh no! I forgot all about the eggs in the water boiler!", I exclaimed aloud five minutes after leaving the college at 6am in the morning. I was on the task of going to Hyderabad cycling and had planned to have eggs before starting. But in the excitement, I started empty stomach and going back was out of question since I was already late. I took two days to cover 2/3rd of the distance and it was the best trip of my life - speaking to locals, sleeping in dhabas and on the highway, riding on the dark highway among other things. Many things could have gone wrong but nothing did - not even a puncture.

"Not again!", I exclaimed the moment I got into a 356C. I was going to Hyderabad by bus and again forgot all about the egg I boiled for breakfast. No point wasting a twenty five rupee ticket for a three rupee egg, I decided and went on. I got down at silk board since I had some work at Banashankari before catching the bus and I got a call from dad.
"Jayanth, I am in Bangalore now. When are you leaving for Hyderabad?", he asked.
"Tonight", I replied surprised and hoping he would come along.
"Ok I will call you in the evening. Lets go together", he said and I was elated.
That day, the time I spent in Bangalore was memorable and in the evening, I traveled home with dad.

Both the times I left eggs half boiled, I had a real good time. The first time it was three eggs and the best time of my life. The second time it was one egg and things turned out to be better than expected. But both the times I had to throw away the rotten eggs.

What will happen if I leave five eggs half boiled? Will I get a girlfriend on my way home?
I am leaving home today so shall I try it out? Still thinking... guess its worth a try... is it? :-)

Other side of me

Having journeyed extensively and blogged about my trips, I decided on a rather different trip this time. A trip to my childhood.

Here are the programs I will talk about. DOS based so might have compatibility problems. Click Here to Download  

(Extract and run the executable bstprogs.exe  in the same folder)

I was waiting expectantly as my brother was typing furiously on Dad's latest 386. Dad was working for the Andhra Pradesh State Electricity Board. He had his office in the basement of our house where there were five computers. A TVS dot marix printer was connected to the 386 on which my brother had been working for the past one hour. This printer was used to print electricity bills. Once every three months, it would work continuously for about a week, day in and day out, making one hell of a racket and spitting out sheafs of bills. If you had ever seen a dot matrix printer at work, you would agree that sleeping next to railway tracks would be far better.

The year was 1995 and I was 10 years old.

“What are you going to do?”, I asked bro when he was entering the office with a fat book in his hand with a large 'C' inscribed over the cover.

“Programming”, he answered curtly.

“What?”, I asked confused.

“Hmmm... writing a program, like that game you played last week”, he said and my eyes lit up.

The previous week I had played the brick game, a game in which a bouncing ball smashes a brick wall above it, some bricks being magical giving special powers like the ablity to shoot or rip through the wall. I loved it but unfortunately it got erased and my brother could never load it again because the small floppy got corrupted. I was devastated.

So the moment he said 'game' I decided to wait for him to complete it.

After two hours, during which I brought coffee at least five times, he uttered a joyous cry and I stood up to have a closer look.

“Run” he typed.

The screen cleared and a single line appeared:

“Bank Account Number?”

I stood staring at the screen expecting the ball and bricks to pop up. But all it was showing were lines like “Interest?”, “Mortgage?”, "Balance: 4356" etc etc.

“Ok I am done”, said my brother switching off the computer taking me by surprise.

“What! Where is the game?”, I asked flabbergasted.

“What game?”, he asked looking at me, amused.

“You said you were making a game like the one I played last week”, close to tears, I reminded him.

“Oh God! No way. It takes a team and lots of time to do that. I was writing a banking appli....”

I started crying.

All I knew was I was cheated into getting him coffee and wasting my two hours there instead of playing cricket. It was 6'O clock and cricket would have ended. I cried harder.

“I want a game, a game. Please make at least a simple game”, I cried dropping out the bricks from my imagination and settling for a bouncing ball.

“No chance, its too tough”, he said dragging me out of the room.

“Just a moving circle....”, I managed to say before he slammed the office door shut and locked it.

I stared at the locked door and the dark sky, no computer game and no cricket, I burst out crying louder than ever.

I owe my school, Jubilee Hills Public School, a lot. In 6^th, we were taught LOGO in which a cursor called turtle responded to commands like FD, BK, RT, LT moving across the screen leaving a trail behind it. I drew circles, rectangles and tons of fancy figures. Later, in 7^th and 8^th, we were taught BASIC, Beginners All Purpose Symbolic Language when my desire to make a game was ignited. But after extensive research, I learnt that the task was almost impossible in BASIC. Following my brother's advice I learnt C when I was in 10^th.

Six months later I was able to fulfill my dream and well actually do more than that.

Click Here To Download (Extract and run bstprogs.exe)

Inception of Exotic Trails

The speedometer was showing 53.4Kmph. It was almost the end of the descent and I was peddling like my life depended on it but it stayed stubbornly at 53.4. I tried to shift to 7th gear on my 6-speed FireFox RoadRunner but, of course, the Revoshift would not budge. Though I was on top gear, there was little power transmission from my frantically pumping legs to the wheels.
53.4… 53… 52… 30…
That’s it! End of descent and my dream of touching 60kmph vaporized. It was then I decided that I need another bicycle with better gear ratios for more efficient power transmission.
As I cycled towards ABB, I started thinking. A Trek would be too expensive, not Hercules, not another FireFox. I remembered Rakesh of RR International Bicycles, Madiwala mention the Schwinns. I liked the name and decided to enquire.

The moment I saw the Schwinn the next day, my heart went out for it.
“You can get a Schwinn Sporterra for 13k and Sporterra Sport for 15k”, he said and assured me that Schwinns are far better than Firefox, “There is no comparision sir”, were his exact words.
I had a windfall the previous day, HCL had at last closed my PF account and deposited the money in my account, so 13k was kind of affordable.
“Ok I will take the Schwinn Sporterra”, I said deciding on the spot. I knew thinking on and on would just be a waste of time since I would end up buying anyway.
“Right now we only have the Sporterra sport sir, we will get the lower end one in three days”, said Rakesh throwing me in a dilemma.
I just could not wait getting my hands on a new bike but spending 2k more?
“What are the exact differences between the two?”, I asked
“Sporterra sport has got continental double fighter tires, has 24 gears,..”, and he mentioned a couple of other differences.
“I will think over lunch and come back”, I said hearing my stomach growl and seeing that it is already 2pm.
Over lunch in a nearby Shanti Sagar, I decided, no more KFC’s, no more rich food, go for meals and idlies, save money in all ways, healthy ways, and go for the bike!
After an hour, I was the proud owner of a sparkling Red White Schwinn Sporterra Sport.
Riding towards college thinking how to put the Firefox to good use, I decided to start a bicycle rental venture.
I will organize rides, give cycle on rents and like I have recently realized, will make others realize that cycling technology has indeed undergone a revolution making everyday medium to long distance cycling a pleasure.
I had to christen the idea and I choose ‘Exotic Trails’ after my debut novel ‘Exotic Engineer Entrepreneur’ which indirectly led to all this craziness. (Read my blog on how I burnt my first cheque).
I reached college and got down to work – wrote a blog and sent a mail across.
PING!
Prutvish: I will join and throw my Hercules in.
Me: Are you sure?
I was surprised because a bicycle is a very personal belonging and to rent it out, well tough! I had a tough time convincing myself.
Prutvish: Yes
Me: Take your time, take a day and tell me tomorrow
Prutvish: Not required, waste of time, I know I will come to the same decision anyway.
I laughed and thus we became partners of our little venture.

The next day I was surprised to find a mail in my Inbox from Pradeep B V asking me if I would be interested in adding five more bikes to our stable! I literally sat staring at the screen for a while. Pradeep is the co-architect of the Mapunity Platform. Mapunity is a startup incubated at IIITB.
Honestly, all we need to do is start something, help will come!

The Hero Hawk
A week later, unaware that he was busy with a ceremony the next day, I barged into Pradeep’s house. His house was bustling with activity but Pradeep was kind enough to set aside time to pump air in his Hawk and his 8 year niece helped me carry the bike out. She was so cute. Thanks a ton Pradeep!

Act 102 and BSA Mach1
Another week later, Prutvish and I went to Pradeep’s office to find these two bicycles, unused, locked and without air. Like two nifty thieves, we half dragged and half lifted the cycles till the nearest hardware store where we bought a hacksaw blade. It took us a little less than 10 minutes to cut through each lock in public with no one pouncing on us asking what the hell were we doing.
“It took us 10 minutes, it would take a pro 1 minute”, Prutvish remarked belittling the usual cycle safety measures.

Thus, we now command 6 cycles and have students of IIITB, RV college of Engineering, employees of Wipro and Cycling and More as our present customers.

Puncture

I never knew that the boot of the Volvo was so damn spacious! It felt like crawling out of the Trojan horse. It would be fatally suffocating for thirty people (allegedly, the capacity of the Trojan horse), but comfortable for ten, a modern SWAT team of ten could party in there while preparing for an assault.

“You need to pay three hundred” I heard the attendant call and froze.

Stowing my bicycle in the boot, I was about to get inside the AC coach.

“Why?” I asked.

“For the cycle” he answered.

“But cycle is luggage, isn’t luggage free?” I argued.

“No, for cycle three hundred” 

He is cheating me. He will pocket the money. There is no way I am going to pay, I decided.

After the 400km ride from Bangalore to Kurnool, I paid fifty rupees for the bicycle and one fifty for me to reach Hyderabad in an ordinary bus. Now, three hundred for the bicycle and seven fifty for me! No way!

“Can I get it booked properly in the reservation counter?” I asked hoping that he would consider talking to the higher officials for my rights as a threat.

 “No, pay me” he said

I ignored him and walked to the reservation counter.

“I need to take a bicycle in the Volvo. Can I get it booked here?” I asked interrupting the officer who was pouring over a reservation chart.

Say there is no need, say it is free, I prayed.

“Ask the conductor, he will load it” he said without even looking up.

My foot! I loaded it myself.

“Do I need to pay anything?” I asked

“The conductor will tell you” he said and I cursed.

“Bhaiyya, three hundred is too much, make it one fifty please, student concession” I pleaded accepting partial defeat.

“Two hundred”

“Bicycle bhaiyya, fifty rupees environment concession, one fifty please”

“Two hundred final”

“What’s the problem” asked a burly looking ksrtc guy looking inside the boot. With pleading eyes, I told him about my pitiable student status and the exorbitant bicycle transportation charges.

“The pedals will spoil the matting if the bicycle slides. You will be fined two thousand rupees, you have to take them off” he said and left.

I was shocked but recovered quickly, extracted two hundred rupee notes from my wallet and thrust them in the conductor’s hand.

“Barabar?” I asked and hurriedly left the scene before I could be asked to dismantle my bicycle!

During the journey, every jerk and every bump made my heart skip a beat. The bicycle had endured worse situations, I was worried about the matting!

“Bangalore! Majestic” someone bellowed and I woke up.

4am and already in Bangalore!

I was doing my M.Tech in Bangalore and college is to reopen in 4 days. Ranjeet, my B.Tech friend, quit Wipro a month back and rejected offers from Accenture and MindTree, was leaving Bangalore to prepare for civils, “if not now, I can never do it” was what he used to say when asked about his bold decision. I was planning to stay at his place before bidding him farewell in two days.

I took out my cycle, and after a few preliminary checks started riding towards JP Nagar.

The deserted streets, the dark sky, eerily rustling trees, streetlights casting spooky shadows of all shapes, my shadows overtaking each other again and again, the deafening silence, the cool breeze and an occasional chirrup – cycling was bliss!

Hisssssssssssssssssssss…pluk pluk! I stopped and, hoping against hope, craned my neck to look at the rear tire, it was flat! Bliss vanished!

I was immensely enjoying myself and now this! A puncture at 4:20am in the morning, the pessimist in me started cribbing.

Would you rather preferred it to have happened on the pitch dark national highway in the dead of the night with the mighty crosswinds?, asked the optimist.

Why should it ever happen? This is the problem with cycles, I will soon stop riding, cried the pessimist.

Guys we now have the opportunity to learn how to fix a puncture. It’s something new, useful and exciting to know. So let’s buy a puncture repair kit and start experimenting, intervened the optimist in me.

With the chance to learn the art of fixing a puncture looming high on the horizon, my spirits were considerably risen and I started pushing my cycle, heading towards JP Nagar, around 20km away, it would take 3 hours at least.

“Accident?” asked George another friend from B.Tech and Ranjeet’s roommate.

“No, puncture” I said laughing.

The stairs leading to the house were very narrow so I had to carry the cycle and the front wheel separately, my cycle has a front quick release.

“I am going to kill you” I muttered while holding two legs of a four legged table.

“Don’t worry GJ, the girls will think you are so sweet helping your friend” he replied smirking.

“My foot, they will think I am an attendant in a furniture shop” I retorted.

Ranjeet had to return a table to his relatives and we were carrying it through the crowded fashionable streets of Jayanagar, going to a place where the autowala refused to go. Smart and pretty girls were all around, looking down upon me!

The entire day I was busy helping Ranjeet in preparing to leave Bangalore – renew motorbike insurance to increase its resale value, electricity, gas, bsnl and returning furniture. Only the evening the next day I could finally go shopping for the tools. It was while going to Koramangla in a cramped bus stuck in the traffic, I re-realized how heavenly cycling is.

“Now go to the bathroom and find out where is the puncture” said George.

“I know!” I retorted.

“You don’t know anything. You could have got the puncture fixed for ten rupees but instead you go out and buy this stuff for hundred and fifty” he said pointing at the three plastic tongs, puncture patches and glue.

“It’s important to learn” I shouted going into the bathroom.

I was trying to fix the puncture, George was bossing over me and Ranjeet was packing his stuff.

There were no bubbles oozing from the tube so we stuffed it back into the tire. It got punctured again! It was George who found out the problem. He meticulously examined the tire and found the culprit, a little nail, comfortably lodged in the tire. I wanted to throw it in the fires of Mount Doom, in the heart of Mordor but just tossed it into the bin and missed.

“Abey, hamare puncture hoon jayega” shouted Ranjeet angrily eyeing the pin while trying to stuff his CPU into a gunny bag.

“Silvadunga” I said picking up the pin nail and dropping it in the dustbin.

“This is beyond me” exclaimed George and I had to agree. Now, after fixing the second puncture, the air started escaping through the nozzle!

“Will get it repaired in a shop” I said and stuffed the tube in my bag.

“I could have done it without you” I said noticing George smirking.

“Will you guys now help me?” asked Ranjeet now struggling to pack his monitor. George ran to his aid and I sat mourning beside my bicycle.

Ranjeet left Bangalore the next day. It was sad to see him go. Long unplanned rides around Bangalore, chatting sipping tea on his terrace and in Electronics City are things of past now.

3 days later

“Guys you need to go to ABB twice a week” said Prof. Jyotsna.

“But ma’am, we have a very hectic schedule and it’s a two hour journey changing three buses” we protested.

“Sorry guys, maybe you can arrange it with your mentor but as of now this is the plan” she said with a note of finality in her voice and we filed out of her cabin, grumbling about the hectic college schedule, the crowded and the snail paced buses.

Cycle, I decided.

It was the first day of our visit and I was having second thoughts. A meeting with some program manager was scheduled and it was vital we all be present. Cycling, apart from all the merits, is risky especially if the schedule is tight.

Firstly, I was not sure of the exact location, secondly, puncture, it could delay me indefinitely.

“Let’s meet at the bus stop at 1:30pm” everyone else decided and we parted.

I ran to my room and still pondering, opened Google maps and made a rough map. It was 20km away and seemed easy enough to locate.

In an instant I decided – cycle!

I started fifteen minutes early, lost my way a hundred times, took the most roundabout route and reached ten minutes before the others. I was happy; I hate to keep people waiting for me. The best part – I was not at all tired!

Sitting listlessly in the meeting, I was longing to get back on my bicycle. It concluded after 40 minutes during which we were asked the usual questions – areas of interests, work experience, specialization and short introduction.

More supermarket was looming on the horizon and I stopped for some shopping. After 20 minutes, my backpack was labored with pickle, ghee, oil, mtr poliogare mix, chilli powder, bread etc etc.

I was looking forward for bath with hot water and delicious poliogare when I noticed that my bike was wobbling a bit.

Shit! Rear tire punctured!

I had an extra tube but it is now useless. The front quick release makes changing the front tire tube very easy. I had everything to fix a puncture except one thing – water in a vessel to zero in on the hole in the tube. I sat debating what to do – pushing the remaining 15km, take an auto or finding a repair shop; the fading light telling me that I don’t have much time to think.

It would be awesome if I fix it, a huge boost to my morale, I thought. I mean, puncture is the worst fear of any motorist, conquering it is a must.

I took out the kit, stuck in the tongs, pulled out the tire, tore out the tube from the tire, pumped in air and concentrated hard; above the din of the traffic I could hear the fading sound of escaping air. After filling in air about five times, I could finally locate the puncture. Now, fixing was simple and by the time darkness engulfed me, I was ready to go. I couldn’t believe it! I fixed the puncture in about fifteen minutes and that too without water! I conquered a cyclist’s greatest fear!

I reached home by 8:10 and started cooking puliogare.

PING!

“When did you reach?”

“8:10, got late, went shopping and then puncture”

“Oh, even then you reached earlier than us. We reached at 8:20, got stuck in traffic jam and couldn’t get a bus from silk board”

I couldn’t help smiling.

But alas life is not always smooth. On the third time, a bigger nail pierced the tire and scratched the tube all over. Had to get the tube changed. Used a self-repellent tube this time; seems it has some liquid which will expel pierced objects and seal itself.

Merida - Harohalli - Maralavadi - Hunasanahalli - Anchetti - D'kottai - Thali - Anekal - Chandapur - Bangalore

Checkout more photos here

I was happily floating on water. Wooosh… an SUV zoomed past very close, I could feel the dust rise and hear leaves rustle and the gravel shudder. Is there a road close to the waterfall? Whatever, I don’t care, I just need to rest.
“Jayanth, shall we start?” Vishnu’s voice startled me and I woke up.
I was sleeping on the road and dreaming!

The ride was planned about a week ago by a few members of the Bangalore Bicycle Club. The ride plan - 100km to Anchetti, swim at the waterfall and back. I was looking forward for the ride and much more for the swim. I woke up at 3:50am, got ready by 4:15am and hurried down the stairs with my bike. I had a vague idea of the meeting point nicknamed Merida Point, about 20km from my place. With my backpack heavy with 4 liters of water, I was doubtful of making it there by 5am.
“Sorry sir, you can go out only after 4:30” said the security near the gate.
I am doing my masters after working for 18 months and have time restrictions! Heights!
“I have a race at 5am. I need to leave now” I exaggerated.
He woke up the head security, and I was allowed to leave by 4:20am.
There is no way am going to make it on time. It was 4:40 and I just reached silk board.
But luckily Merida Point was easy to locate and I was there by 4:58am. It was my first ride with the members of BBC (Bangalore Bicycling Club) and a round of introductions followed. I met Dipankar, Ramesh, Prasanth and Sri Ram. The Times Green Championship on the world environment’s day thwarted all my confidence and I declared myself as a slow rider. So me, Prasanth and one more guy who wanted to go till Kanakapura started riding towards Horahalli. The route was scenic, pitch black tar road flanked by colorful trees, picturesque.
Zzzzziiiipppp… Dipankar, Sri Ram and Ramesh overtook us. I increased pace and joined them.
“Are you sure you are a slow rider?” asked Ramesh after a while and I told him that the race on World Environment’s day convinced me that I was.
We stopped at Horahalli bus stand at about 6:20 and by 6:30, there were a total of 9 bikers debating where to have breakfast – Vasu’s or Jayaram’s. A crowd started gathering around us, gawking at us. A year back, I would have felt very shy but now I became shameless and was just amused. Dipankar, Sri Ram, Vishnu, Harsha, Shobit, Prasanth, Chiddu, Ramesh and I formed the pack of riders attempting to conquer Anchetti and refresh at the nearby waterfall. I couldn’t wait to swim, float and drown myself in the water. Finally, we headed towards Jayaram’s for Idlies.
“This 30km is nothing. We will be riding on the ghat road and the next 70km is going to be like 120km” said Dipankar who was leading the ride, his second practice ride for the Tour de Himalayas.
He was right, the terrain was awesomely challenging. There were steepest of the steep ascents which made me double and triple check if I was on the 1st gear or the 6th. Then there were descents, without peddling, I touched 54kmph on one particular downhill. The road was not smooth and I could hear every nut of my bicycle rattle and every joint creak. I was sure it would soon fall apart. Dipankar and Sri Ram were leading the group and I slowly joined them followed by Vishnu. The story of Dipankar’s 3 bikes amused me – first, Rs7000 FireFox bike, then Rs20000 rockrider and now Rs70000, the make I forgot, which he takes it out only for races. (Hoping to follow your lead Dipankar ).
Vishnu and I stopped for rest, photos and snacks and we were stuck together for the rest of the ride.
“Do you get buses to Bangalore?” enquired Vishnu when we reached Anchetti after a grueling ride with the sun bearing down upon us. Dipankar and Vishnu were ahead of us and the rest of the group close behind.
“Yes yes” replied a localite. I was so exhausted that I was ready to crash into the water with my bike!
“Ready? About another five kilometers for the waterfall” said Vishnu.
I am going to spend a lot of time in the water and return by bus, I decided.
A few hairpin bends challenged us and we were quickly running short of water.
The waterfall, waterfall and swim, I kept reminding myself.
We kept taking short breaks every kilometer and I was envious of Dipankar and Sri Ram who should have been by the waterfall by now, enjoying themselves.
Oh my god! This is not possible! My heart sank seeing the terrain ahead; steep ascent for as far as I could see.
“Jayanth! We need to take a fifteen minute break” shouted Vishnu and I couldn’t agree more. After eating dates and chocolate and washing them down with all the remaining water, I slept by the road using my towel as a pillow.
“Warn me if a truck comes hurtling down” shouted Vishnu. I craned my neck to see what he was doing and smiled. Even he was sleeping, perpendicular to the road.
“Dipankar and the rest are having lunch at Anchetti” said Vishnu hanging up his phone. I burst out laughing. We were leading the group!
“Let’s rest for 10 minutes and go to Devankottai for lunch. It is 15km from here” said Vishnu.
Anything after the swim, I thought and fell asleep.
I was happily floating on water. Wooosh… an SUV zoomed very close to me, I could feel the dust rise and hear the fallen leaves rustle and the gravel shudder. Is there a road close to the waterfall? Whatever, I don’t care, I just need to rest.
“Jayanth, shall we start?” Vishnu’s voice startled me and I woke up.
I was sleeping on the road and dreaming!
We still did not reach the waterfall I was dreaming about, it is still about 5km away, a killer 5km with steep slopes. I stretched myself and nodded. We started peddling. My legs were crying but I learnt sometime back that I should not feel merciful. It is their duty to pedal.
“There it is” said Vishnu
“Where?” I asked
“There!” he said pointing.
“But… But… that is a fall, not waterfall!” I exclaimed.
“Well ya, summer. Water has dried up. Didn’t you notice there was no water below the bridges or anywhere” he said.
“So we cannot swim?” I asked, utterly disappointed. No water to drink, no water to swim and no water to drench myself and cool down.
“Nope, maybe if you come again in November” he said.
I felt like a seven year old whose birthday cake has been snatched away.I wanted to lie down on the road, beat my fists, swing my legs and cry I want my waterfall, I want my waterfall! But sure that the tantrum would drive Vishnu nuts, I hid my disappointment. I even brought a towel and shorts for the swim, the weight of which I can now feel on my back.
“So what plan? Direct to Devankottai for lunch?” I asked. There was no point going off road to see a waterfall without water.
“Yup, 15km more” he said
It was another 15km of rough terrain which took us a little less than 2 hours to negotiate.
Vishnu and me had lunch in Sankar Café, Devankottai and were later joined by Chiddu, Ramesh and Harsha. Vishnu and I decided to continue the ride till Bangalore. The others, due to other commitments and tight schedules, decided to take a bus. After a grueling 35km ride to Anekal through Thali, we separated.
I was happy that I completed the ride, a distance of about 185km; a ride through one of the most demanding terrain in Bangalore.
But the waterfall…
Sometimes we work very hard for something which we might not get. But the journey, though tough, would be tiring, tough, fun filled and full of experiences. I am sure that I am now a better cyclist. After negotiating through the steepest slopes, riding in the city is going to be much easier. It would have been awesome if I could have had the swim, but this is life and disappointments are part of it.

World Environment Day Race

See the pics here, not many though.

From: gjayanth8[at]gmail[dot]com

To: pedalpusher[at]timescycletowork[dot]com

Subject: Times Green Championship

Date: 3^rd June, 2010

Dear Sir/Madam,

If cycling 400Km in two days makes one a pro then I am one.

I rode from Bangalore (Electronics City) to Kurnool (Bus stop) some 10 days back.
I wish to take part in the Times Green Championships, please consider.

Regards,

Jayanth

This is how I entered the Times Green Championship of the Times of India Cycle to Work initiative to take place on the World Environment Day, 5^th June, 2010. All the slots for the race were filled and I badly wanted to participate. The race was for 60Km, 3 laps of 20Km. The 400Km lone ride made me feel that I am not a rookie anymore or maybe a Lightening McQueen (in the movie Cars) style rookie.

Why was I so keen to enter the race? If I had known what the 1^st prize was, the reason would have been the free trip to Leh but the prizes were not announced beforehand. Then why was I keen to enter the race? One, I wanted to compare my cycling with other Bangalore cyclists, two, well be a part of World’s Environment and three, a publicity stunt. Yup, publicity stunt for my debut novel, Exotic Engineer Entrepreneur. If I can figure among the prize winners I can persuade Times of India to review my novel faster than otherwise, I thought. Within an hour and an exchange of a few mails with pedalpusher, I got my registration number for the Times Green Championship race. I was happy.

5:36am! My cell phone ditched me again! It was an Rs800 ZTE Reliance mobile and had a zillion bugs. That day it failed to wake me up at 4:30am. After bottling glucose water, chocolates and boiled eggs, and preparing a map to reach the venue, I slept at 1:00am and was still too sleepy. For a moment I considered going back to sleep but not wanting to miss the event I jumped off my bed and grabbed my brush but threw it down and used colgare plax mouthwash instead. I need to save every second to be there at Sarjapur, 20km away in less than an hour. By 5:45 I was out zooming on the Hosur road and five minutes later I remembered that I forgot the map. But 6am is not as early as we students think and there were folks around to ask for directions.

It’s not the plane, it’s the pilot, I tried convincing myself. The bikes around me were just awesome - professional, and stylish and wheels so thin that thinning a bit more would render them invisible. It’s not the suit on us, it’s the spirit inside. I was wearing regular shorts and t-shirt but some people around me were looking like international cyclists seen in sports channels. It’s all in the mind, I told myself seeing one biker who seemed really physically fit. Shay Mandal of the Hyderabad Bicycling Club briefed me about their activities to remain fit – cycling, running and swimming in quick succession over varying distances, it’s called Triathlon. But I did 400Km in two days, I will stand a chance.

I did not stand a chance and I realized it about 10 minutes into the race. For one I was still sleepy and moreover I was just not prepared, rather did not at the least perform any preliminary checks on my cycle before the race. Front tire was not properly inflated and seat was too low. I had to stop twice to adjust the seat height, first time I made it too high in a hurry. While trying to properly inflate the front tire, my cycle fell down and from then on I started having a problem with the top gear, the shift to top gear would be delayed and abrupt. After 30 minutes I realized racing was not my cup of tea. There were a lot of people behind me but there were lot more ahead. I enjoy cycling and I can go on endlessly at my pace but not race, at least not yet. It was early morning, just after rain and the route was beautiful, so I decided to enjoy the ride. Singing along with my iPod I forgot I was racing. Slowly I started catching up with others. Honestly, if we enjoy what we are doing, it makes hell lot of difference in the quality of the work. Maybe I do stand a chance! Maybe most of them will give up and only a few will complete the race, I started peddling harder. A team of professional cyclists were coming back completing a lap. Around eight guys speeding as one, they were a sight to watch. Lap U-turn  is somewhere close, I kept riding and riding but the lap just did not end! Just as I was feeling I have lost my way, I saw the U-turn sign and a few volunteers waving a flag and stopping the traffic so that we can safely turn around. Jesus Christ! At this rate I will be laps behind the pros!

Unfortunately I was. Vroom… beep… honk. A group of motorcycle volunteers were clearing the way, signaling the traffic to move aside. Wow, thanks guys! It feels royal! Cyclists are the king of the road! Did that volunteer just ask me to move aside? Nah, impossible, I am on a cycle.

Beep beep and I looked behind and suddenly realized that all the hulla was not for me and other casual cyclists. The bunch of professionals were zooming towards me flanked by more motorcyclists and the Safari with two cycles mounted on it. I was a lap behind and they were getting the royal treatment, not me! I moved aside and let them overtake. This is not a chance to miss, I thought and I gave it all I had to catch up with them. One pro shouted encouraging words as I tried to keep pace but after about 20 seconds I had to give up, their cycles were just too good. Don’t be an idiot, it’s the pilot not the plane, my inner self screamed at me but I did not want to agree. It’s the cycle I fought back and what I saw next make me think again, a hero cycle, the kind of cycle we see ordinary people going to work with. The guy was riding it pretty fast, with his wife sitting behind him carrying a steel lunch box! I followed him, observing him, for a few seconds, he was maintaining his pace. Wow! I gave him thumbs up and he responded! I smiled and overtook him. It’s both, the pilot and the plane, given this guy a racing bike, he would be a decent performer, training would make him shine.

 “Hi, I am Jayanth”, I said drawing alongside one of the cyclist riding at my pace.

“Hi, Kartheek”, he replied

And I found a friend, ok a two hour friend. If the name was Krithika or perhaps Nisha, we might have exchanged phone numbers. We spoke, rode together and raced. It was nice to have someone to ride with. In the last lap I got tired and fell behind while he raced ahead. A few minutes later I saw him at a distance having coconut water. To hell with the race, I thought and joined him. He did not have change and I paid. Kartheek if you are reading this, remember you still owe me Rs15 :).

            In the last 10Km I raced a couple of guys riding slowly, one exhausted guy walking his bike and another guy waiting for the crew to pick him up. When I finished the race, there was no one to flag me finish, every volunteer left and they took the finish board along with them! When I entered the shamiyana, celebrations were already on! A bottle of Himalayan mineral water bottle, glucose and cookies were the goodies from the sponsors. Prize distribution started and my heart skipped a beat after the first prize was announced – Rs10,000 + a trip to Leh! I love cycling and someday I am going to win that and much more, I resolved.

My longest bike ride... hoping to break it some day..

See the photos here


When I read ‘Paths of Glory’, the story of George Mallory, allegedly the first person to scale the Everest, I thought he was a mad man. Why the hell should he leave the coziness of his house, his beloved wife and children to face snow storms, blizzards and death? I didn’t know the answer then and I am not sure I know the answer now but I know the feeling. It was this feeling which made me attempt a Bangalore-Hyderabad trip on a bicycle rather than in the comfort of a zooming, air conditioned Video Coach often called The Volvo. The distance is approximately 600Km and my average speed is 20Kmph for around 90Km as against 80Kmph of a Volvo; cycling time would be 30 hours if I could maintain my average for the entire journey, but more likely it would drop due to fatigue and other unexpected incidents like punctures and accidents.
Why did I ever think of such a crazy idea? For one thing, I love cycling; riding within the city was not enough to test my endurance, I always returned home feeling I can ride more. That apart, it would be my best ever adventure, an achievement which I can boast about. Moreover, I left my hand pump in Hyderabad during my last visit so there was no point in carrying any puncture repair kit, but this did not deter me, it just made the adventure more adventurous. What would I do facing a puncture in middle of the lonely highway in the dead of the night? How long would I be able to ride and how fast? I was keen to find out the answers.
I posted my plan on the bike zone website and received many replies warning me about miles of featureless landscape, heat and crosswinds which might blow me onto the traffic - Volvos and Innovas. One guy, nicknamed cryptic_abbreviator, challenged me to do the trip, he offered to buy me six beers just because he wanted to meet someone who is truly mad. Why not start drinking beer this way?

“I am attempting a bicycle ride from Bangalore to Hyderabad. If I go missing, sorry! I have a few requests which I saved as a draft in my gmail account. Keerthi can break my password. Hint: *******”
Keerthi is my sister. I did not tell anyone about this plan, it was top secret, so was wondering what would happen if I go missing on the way – kidnapped or hit-and-run or a zillion other things. I came up with this idea, wrote this note and stuck it in my room. If I go missing, my room will be broken into and the note found. Jayanth gone missing on his way to Hyderabad on a bicycle sounded much better than Jayanth gone missing under unknown circumstances. It all seemed so movie like, just like in The Da Vince Code.
I wanted to keep my backpack as light as possible but I kept on adding things; few clothes, a towel, cell phone charger, ipod charger, soap, shampoo, oil, water bottle, glucose, cheese, cheeselings tooth brush, tooth paste, shaving kit, hand sanitizer, mini speaker etc etc. It became heavy but there was not one thing I could take out. I knew the straps would soon start cutting into my shoulders.

Day 1: Electronic City to Anantapur, 250Km, 6am to 12:30am



Everything packed, an informal Will ready in my Inbox and the pleasant climate, dressed in t-shirt, shorts, shoes, cycling helmet and gloves, I was ready to roll. I knew I was forgetting something and stood rooted in my room for a few seconds thinking. Convincing myself that I was just feeling apprehensive about the unconventional mode of transportation I hit the road. The smell of rain in the air was awesome and I started zooming towards Sarjapur from the IIIT Bangalore campus, Electronic City at 6am. After ten minutes I realized what I had missed, I put three eggs in my water heater before sleeping and forgot all about it. Chicken will be ready by the time I come back, I thought and jumped a signal on the Hosur Road, sniggering at a motorist who was patiently waiting for it to turn green.
I crossed the Bangalore International airport by 9am and with the help of glucose, water and a breakfast of Tomato Rice, I made it to the AP checkpost 125Km away by 2:00pm, 8 hours, 15Kmph. Volvos, Innovas and Civics were speeding past me, with speeds at least 5 times more but the cool breeze, the awesome misty landscape and the smell of wet freshly watered soil made me feel that it is sometimes necessary to slow down in life, travel not to make great time but to have great time.
I was famished and stopped at an AP tourism restaurant. It was beautiful with lawns, swings and slides. Hoping I was not too late, I secured my bicycle and rushed inside shouting “meals available?”. The waiter smiled and asked me to sit down. I choose a place beside the window, where the bicycle was clearly in view, I never want to let it go out of my sight. A thali filled with rice, sambar, rasam, curry, curd, papad, dal and a chapatti was placed in front of me. I smiled thankfully at the waiter but he was looking outside the window, wearing a puzzled expression. The moment the plate touched down on the table he rushed to the window and started frantically looking here and there, he then rushed to the door, looked around and then back towards me. I knew what was coming.
“Cycle?” he asked.
“Yes”, I replied.
“Ekkada nunchi?” (From where)
“Bangalore”
“Wow”, he exclaimed and I burst out laughing because of his accent, it showed he was awestruck.
“Endhuku?” (Why?)
“Holidays and nice climate”, I answered, hungrily devouring the food.
The occasional enquiries continued and after 8 hours of lonely ride, I was enjoying the conversation.
“Inko papad kavala?” he asked watching me gobble up the last piece of the first papad.
“No, its ok”, I replied but he walked to the kitchen and returned with a plate full of papads. The cycle earned me his respect and extra papads. I never ate so much and was full after two helpings of rice but he forced me take a third helping.
“Thinali mee lanti oolu”, (People like you should eat) he said smiling and I swept clean the third lump of rice. For the first time in my life, I willingly left a tip of Rs10.
After loitering around in the lawn for a few minutes, I resumed my journey. Next stop Penukonda, 34Km away. That milestone would make it 185Km in a day, from Electronic City to Penukonda.
Within five minutes, it started drizzling and in the next ten minutes it started pouring but I did not stop. For a cyclist, sun is the enemy, rain is more than welcome. I faced the sky and tasted a few drops of rain, it felt refreshing. But within the next half an hour, it started pouring so heavily that I had to take shelter in an abandoned house which was already occupied by a few village kids. I tried to use the time to catch some sleep but the village kids started bombarding me with questions. I guess they were amused by my attire - helmet, gloves and shorts.
"From where are you coming?” “Why are you wearing a helmet?” “What is the cost of the cycle?” “Why are you wearing gloves?” “Is there no need to pedal if you have gears?” “Your dress made us think you are a foreigner”



It was kind of funny on the road too. People traveling on two wheelers and autos would turn around to stare at me. When they noticed me looking at them, the reactions were varied – few stared back defiantly, few averted their gaze immediately, few used to turn away slowly, first look at the sky and turn away as if trying to tell me "I was not looking at you, I was just looking around".

The moment rain had abated, I ran away from the place. By 5:30pm, I reached the town of Penukonda but I was not at all tired. I didn’t want to stop, not even for tea. As I was leaving the town, I saw a huge statue of a giant with little men all over him. It appeared as if the little men were trying to wake him up, I took a small detour to take a few snaps. Since the place appeared closed, I resumed my journey without attempting to go in. Later I found out from Dad that the giant was Bakasura and there was a restaurant inside his tummy! Missed it!
Anantapur, 66Km away was my next stop and I expected it would take me at max 4 hours. This milestone would make it around 250Km on the first day. I would be there by 9:30pm, I assured myself as it was getting dark. But I was missing something, something dangerous, something which would reduce my progress to a clumsy crawl; there were no street lights on the highway! By 7:00pm it was pitch dark and at times I would be the only lone guy traveling on the highway for as far as I could see with absolutely no lights. I could not see anything except a faint white line which marked the corner of the road. Like Mo in Wall-E, I started following the line trusting that on a National Highway there would be no ditches or speed breakers. Trust, very important and very dangerous, it makes life run smoothly but sometimes is deviously powerful. Vehicles coming up from behind me would help me map the road ahead like guiding stars but the opposing traffic on the four lane highway was a nightmare. After being blinded with the headlights, I would be thrown into total darkness; it was like looking directly at a tubelight and then having a blanket thrown over; I was often left unhinged for a few seconds. Only once I lost my sense of direction and I started cycling almost perpendicular to the road, after several sharp corrections, I stopped and reoriented myself. Was it Virtigo?, well perhaps? The hilly landscape full of shadowy shrubs started scaring me. Images of bandits, ghosts and animals filled my head and beads of sweat covered my forehead. Diversions were the worst part, short dangerous stretches, dangerous because they were single lane. I had to get off the road to give way to impatiently honking vehicles behind me because of the heavy oncoming traffic. By 8:15pm, I saw a set of lights beside the highway and increased my pace. Thankfully it turned out to be a Dhaba, a Sarforosh style Dhaba with lots of trucks stopped around it, one of the trucks being repaired. A bunch of truck drivers were enjoying a Telugu movie, the owner was busy serving them and a dog sitting under the tree. There was a bed too! A typical village style barb wired bed under the tree. With tea, biscuits and Chappati from the Dhaba and cheese, Glucose and Cheeselings from my backpack, I settled down happily on the bed for some dinner. The rustling of the leaves, cool breeze brushing my face, the dog barking in response to a far off howl, faint sound of the TV, laughter from the crowd, it was altogether a different experience.
“Ekkada nunchi vachavu?” a middle aged man came over and asked.
(From where did you come)
“Bunalore”, I replied, my mouth stuffed with Chappati.
“Cycle lo na?” he asked surprised. (On cycle?)
“Yes”
“Military training?” he asked giving me a knowing smile.
“Something like that”, I replied smiling back not wanting to explain why I was doing it for time pass.
“Naaku telusu, lekapote yavaru ila cheyaru adi ratri”, he said with a knowing smile and walked away.
(I know else no one else will do anything like this, that too at night)
I saw him whisper something to his bunch and they all turned and looked at me. I just concentrated on the Chapatti.

“Mujhe gandu bhulaya! Kitna himmat!” someone shouted and I woke up with a start.
(How dare you call me a Gandu!)
It was 9:30pm, I happily slept off on the bed for almost an hour! There were more shouts and I watched as it turned out into a fight. Deciding it was time for me to leave and knock off a few more kilometers, I put on my backpack. The straps dug into my shoulders. It was time to do something about it. Five minutes later, I started wishing I had done this earlier. I strapped my water bottle and cheeselings to the front rod of my bike with my belt, towel and few other clothes. I wore two baniyans and two t-shirts which reduced the weight further and will save me from the cold too. With almost nothing in it, the backpack felt light and I, rather foolishly, resumed my journey at 9:40pm on the dark National Highway 7.
I reached Anantapur Bus Stand by 12:30am and the moment I entered the Bus Stop I was surrounded by Auto Wallas shouting “Sir Auto? Bicycle will fit into my auto”.
Dudes, I rode from Bangalore. I don’t need an auto!
I just ignored them and secured my bicycle to a pole. Two people were sleeping on a steel bench leaving enough space for one more guy; I joined them. Bitter cold, mosquitoes and honking of the buses allowed me to sleep only for a few hours and I was wide awake by 3am. Having nothing more to do in the bus stand, I slowly made my way out of Anantapur and headed towards the highway. The scariest part was a short stretch of road over a drain. I could hear water flowing but could not see anything, there was no white line to guide me, one wrong move and I would be off the road and into the drain. Slowly I reached the highway.
The crosswinds on the Highway were very strong, threatening to blow me onto the traffic. Out of the mist came a pair of headlights, zooming towards me and I jumped off the road in the last minute. With the news of the looming cyclone Laila, I decided saving a few hours is not worth the risk and was heading back when I found a few abandoned cement pipes beside the road, I just climbed on one of them and slept!

Day 2, Ananthapur to Kurnool, 150Km

By 5:30am it was dawn and few people were already milling around. I jumped off the pipe, stretched myself and started off. Sleeping in the cold mosquito infested places - bus stand and on cement pipes and saving a few bucks turned out to be expensive, I started feeling sleepy and dozed off a couple of times in the warmth of the sun while cycling. Unable to stand it any longer, I stopped near a milestone and tried to sleep behind it but zooming vehicles made the task impossible. Cycling a few yards, I found a partially constructed rectangular stone wall and happily slept for an hour with the cycle locked close to me.
The journey from Anantapur to Dhone through Gooty, 100Km was a nightmare. It took me 8 hours. Sleepiness and the hilly terrain made my progress very slow.
Dhone 34Km and after peddling hard the next milestone would show Dhone 33Km, Damn! All this hard work knocked just 1Km!!!!! It was then I decided that Kurnool, around 80Km would be my final destination, I cannot cycle alone 200Km another day!
Zooooom.. Vroooom.. Screech! I was eating glucose beside another milestone when I heard a Toyota Quallis screech to a halt and zoom back towards me. I was hoping it would be someone interested in talking to me but was not very hopeful because people traveling in Scorpios and Taveras would be more interested in real estate rather than a lone cyclist. I was concentrating on washing down the glucose stuck to my mouth.
“Gear Cycle?” asked the driver amused. The owner, sitting beside him, was looking at me with equal amusement; he was scanning me, my helmet, gloves, shorts, and shoes and then his eyes rested on my sleepy face.
“Yes” I replied with a bright smile.
They both got down and started inspecting my cycle asking the usual questions.
From Where? Bangalore. Wow. Till where? Hyderabad. In cycle? Will take a bus from kurnool.
The last answer made the owner look up at me sharply.
“Why bus?” he asked
“I am feeling tired, don’t think I can ride another day”
“Don’t break it, take rest in Kurnool. Rest for a whole day, in Hotel Mayura perhaps, and continue after a day. It will be an achievement” he said and I just smiled.
Yes! I am going to rest in Kurnool and complete my mission. I started cycling with renewed enthusiasm.
Rice, butter chicken and a proper nap in the Reliance A1 plaza strengthened my resolution to ride all the way. I even started thinking of cycling during the night so that I can reach Hyderabad by noon or latest by afternoon the next day. But,
What do people zooming in Innovas know how it is like riding a cycle alone?
The lonely ride and the extremely slowly trickling kilometers killed all my enthusiasm. I was not exactly tired and if there was a reason, I could have done the next 200Km but loneliness started creeping into my every nerve. The beautiful, rainy, hilly and lush green landscape of the previous day had been replaced by arid land full of small shrubs and I was tired of it. I wanted to go home, take bath with hot water and brush my teeth. I did not brush my teeth because I hardly slept.

“Cycle?” asked mom surprised.

I was home at last, at 2am. For mom it was a double surprise – me home and the cycle. She was expecting me to come in an auto sometime in the morning. Dad was fast asleep.
“I did a break journey and brought the cycle in the bus” I told her without elaborating. The details of my adventure can wait till morning.
Having taken a bus from Kurnool at 8:30pm, I reached the MGBS bus stand, Hyderabad around 1:20am. After the 400Km two day ride, the 20Km ride to my house from the bus stand was child’s play.
“You cycled all the way from the bus stand” she shouted and I burst out laughing.
“Yes” I told her and headed straight for the bathroom.

The next day I recounted my adventure. Mom freaked out and resolved to break my bicycle before I leave. But Dad, well he proudly tells everyone that I had come from Bangalore to Kurnool on a cycle.
I had only one regret, I should have completed the journey because I could have. But 400Km in two days sure is an achievement.
And of course, hats off to my RoadRunner, though it needs a full scale servicing, it never ditched me, never once a puncture and that was amazing. The rubbers of the brakes need to be changed and the gears recalibrated, apart from these, the ride still feels smooth as butter!