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Showing posts from August, 2010

The Years They Will Remember

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Akhil and Sahana with thatha. Akhil is in sixth grade. Sahana is in fourth grade. My own fourth grade feels like a blur, but I remember sixth grade quite well. Mrs. Vijayalakshmi was our class teacher. She was outstanding at teaching English. At BP Indian, grammar, punctuation, and the structure of a composition mattered. Some of my classmates had a natural flair for writing, and I loved reading how they put their thoughts on paper. I came third in class that year and received a merit prize. I still remember the books: Five Have a Wonderful Time by Enid Blyton and Grandmother’s Tale by R. K. Narayan. I still have my copy of Grandmother’s Tale . Inside is the school’s prize label: third rank, Class VI D, 1992–93, awarded to Subbarathinam—the name I went by then. My sixth-grade merit prize. I still have the book. ...

Please wait...

It's been quite a month.  My wife and I share a 1500 minute mobile family plan, and I can bet on almost anything in the world that a significant amount of that time has gone towards customer support.  It has been a month of inquiring with customer representatives, showing an abundance of patience, and putting on a brave front as though you have just been hurled aside in a battle.  I can say with a measure of absolute confidence that it is no easy task to listen to the same cacophony over and over again while you are kept on hold. The wait is almost endless, and worse, there is not even a flicker of light at the other end of the line.  The customer representative just compounds your agony further, and at the end of it, you are left wishing that the wait time music lasted a touch longer than the outrageous solutions received. Almost every other customer support call begins as though you are about to leave a voicemail message.  The drab monotone almost kills you....