Episode 5

An Assembly Affair

Aditya Balasubramaniam couldn’t believe his ears when I told him what was wrong with me.

You have high BP at the age of 19?

Yes!

Who told you so?

Mr.Arun Ganapathy MBBS.

To hell with him. Let us get a second opinion.

And so we visited another doctor. I was least interested in the proceedings because I was sure nothing could save me. I was dying. I had to die. It was my destiny.

The doctor looked at me seriously again. I smiled. I knew what he was going to say.

There is nothing wrong with your BP levels.

What??

I checked it thrice on three different days and at three different times of the day. Your BP is just normal.

But...

Get another opinion if you want.

So we went to yet another doctor and spent about a month on the diagnosis. The result confirmed that my blood pressure was as per the book.

So I stopped gulping down the Inderals. My pulse rate improved and I started looking healthy. Nirmal was back to his senses. And he got back his fame. He was the guy who could repeat the SI definition of "second" without blinking an eyelid. It is the time taken for an electron in the outermost orbit of a Caesium-133 atom to make 9 billion 192 million 631 thousand 7 hundred and 70 transitions.

Now that the second has been formally defined, let me state that the rest of my college life was pretty monotonous. My thirtieth first love – Nitya - got engaged to some bespectacled Bay Area Desi. I shed a tear or two when I got the news and surprisingly I had to really fight hard to get the third tear out of my eyes! It was instant closure on Nitya.

In my final year, our professor came up with a very interesting project for us, "Digital Computer Simulation of a three phase Induction Motor" I was pretty excited and almost ran to the university book center to buy every "Computer Graphics" book in the store.

My professor looked at those books in icy silence for one full minute. Then he looked up at the sky. I looked at the sky too. It was a splendid day. The blue sky with all those tiny white clouds was really beautiful. I enjoyed the view but something at the back of my mind was trying to tell me that the professor might not actually be relishing the pristine beauty of the sky at that moment. I turned my attention to him.

He was staring at me now. I smelt fish.

"We are not going to do any graphics stuff" He managed to tell me finally.

"But you said we were going to do a digital simulation of the 3 phase induction motor."

"Yes"

"What does that mean?"

"It means you are going to write a program to solve a couple of simultaneous equations, a couple of partial differential equations and print a couple of hundreds of pages containing numerical data."

That was perhaps the most boring project I had ever attempted to do. I could not show my face to anybody. I was ashamed and those computer graphics books laughed every time I looked at them. I returned those books to the store and firmly told my professor that I wanted to work on some real stuff and not on a number crunching application.

“Very well!” He said and put me on an 8085 Microprocessor project instead.

It took me quite a while to figure out that the deceivingly simple-looking “2 multiplied by 2” program was one of the difficult ones to write in ALP 8085. I missed the MULT command of x86 terribly. But then I had to live with 8085 because my professor had generously put me in this so called real stuff.

Finally after a few months I could trip a circuit breaker if the line voltage exceeded a certain potential. That marked the end of that project and I was more than relieved.

Well, it was during the final viva voce that I realized the glaring error in the circuit diagram. Had the four diodes really been connected like that to form the bridge rectifier, there wouldn't have been any output – rectified or not!

The guy who did the viva voce smiled a little when he saw the circuit diagram. I sank into the chair and wished I died at that moment.

But I managed to pass the examination and I bid a final goodbye to 8085.

Sometimes I feel I shouldn't have left 8085. But of course when I remember the sixteen line program for multiplying two 8-bit numbers without the carry! I feel I'd done the right thing.

It was partly because of this experience and mostly because I loved my three phase induction motor very much that I, the righteous Electrical Engineer, decided not to look at useless software companies during the campus placements. I wanted to work and die an Electrical Engineer.

Nagarjuna Fertilizers and Chemicals Ltd, a urea manufacturing concern in Kakinada Andhra Pradesh decided to interview me one fine day.

To be continued…

Blood Pressure

That’s Life – 4: Blood Pleasure

I logged into my session and wrote a simple script that acted as a “fake front end”. It looked, felt and smelt like a HP UNIX Log-on screen. I ran the program on all the terminals in the computer center. The unsuspecting Nitya would come at eight in the morning, enter her login details and my program would promptly save those details in a text file and kill the session! Poor gal! She just couldn’t realize that she had been phished!



I had been admonished by the system administrator as well as Adiya Balasubramaniam for this phishing act. While our SysAdmin, a good friend of mine, agreed to take it easy, Aditya practically lynched me for taking the hackers’ pride to the cleaners.



“This is the worst approach to get the passwords. This is insane, indecent and a shame on all of us – Hackers. This is the dumbest way of doing it. Don’t you dare call yourself a hacker!”



However, the fact remained that I could crack Unix passwords. I did it. Maybe it was not the most elegant way of doing it but it served my purpose. I knew Nitya’s password and that was enough for me. My self esteem had gone up by leaps and bounds after this incident.



So Nirmal – the arrogant ‘quizzing dude’ – ultra thin and ultra hi-fi – the most talked about guy (at least I thought so) in the class – Quad Erat Demonstrandum.



Unfortunately none of these accomplishments seemed to impress Nitya - the only girl in my secluded world of fantastic dreams. I wanted to talk to her but I didn't. I wanted to walk with her but I couldn't.



My life – in general – had always been a series of interesting events evenly spaced out on the time axis connected by an unnerving thread of boredom. After the Unix episode, the thread continued for an eternity! There wasn’t anything happening. Same old day, same old people, same old Unix, same old Venu!



God! Gimme something new!



This, He did. He gave me something new and very very interesting as well.



The doctor with a very serious expression on his face asked me – “How old are you?”



“Nineteen” I told him.



He nodded and stared at his notes.



“What is wrong, Doctor?” I asked him.



He sighed, “Your blood pressure levels are a bit too high. In fact very high. 200 by 100! At the age of nineteen.”



Why?



Perhaps it is your Kidneys.



How?



Perhaps you should get yourself examined thoroughly in Madras Apollo.



Well, when I walked out of the campus hospital that day with a bunch of Inderal tablets in my hand, everything looked quite different. I was kinda detached. I spoke to none. The high blood pressure thing had killed the enthusiastic Nirmal. Even Nitya could see something was happening to me.



Why are you so dull nowadays?



I am dying. Believe me.



Come on!



I stopped attending the classes. And I was convinced that I had lost both my Kidneys. My legs started aching. My heart grew heavy. I couldn’t breathe properly. My stomach ached and my little finger could not move at all. My pulse rate came down to 52.

To be continued…

Episode 3: Close Encounters With Unix

That’s Life – 3 Close Encounters with Unix!

As a rule, I had spent most of my free time playing with the minicomputer in our school trying to get some hands-on. It was a time when everyone worth his salt was able to “crack Unix passwords”. So I wanted to do it too. It might be a very simple task because everyone else seemed to have done it. I didn’t want to be left out of the Hall of Fame!

It wasn’t easy for me. The procedure to crack those passwords was a well guarded and well kept secret. People wouldn’t share it with you unless you promised them a treat in Quality Inn Bliss – which none of us could afford anyway. The pocket money per month was close to fifty rupees of which 40 were spent on movies.

Like the divide between Haves and Have-Nots, the divide between Hacked and Hacked-Nots had become quite big. I desperately wanted to cross over to the elite panel of the Unix Hackers Club. I would spend hours in front of the Unix terminal with all the Unix books I could lay my hands on.

Quite a few times, I had asked my classmates – They would simply laugh at me – “Oh look at this item! He scores 87% in Microprocessors and still doesn’t know how to beat a Unix computer! Ha ha ha!”

I was ashamed. It was reason enough to commit suicide. What was the point living in this world if I couldn’t manage to do such a simple task as cracking Unix passwords? That too when every Tom, Dick and Harry (Not to mention the street dog we aptly called Montmorency!) had done it.

BUT HOW?

One day, I could no longer bear it. I couldn't sleep. I got up from my bed at two in the morning, took my bicycle out and peddled furiously towards our computer center. I wanted to crack the passwords at any cost that day.

Of course it was UNIX and I couldn't have succeeded in my attempts to hack it if one Mr. Aditya Balasubramaniam (May his tribe increase. More about him at a later point in time.) were not seen in the university canteen sipping coffee at three in the morning.

'You know Nirmal! I will tell you what your problem is. First thing - You should not have got 87% in that God forsaken paper. What were you thinking man? It is worse than flunking! Anyways, good that you got only 50% in Mathematics – 4. That is better. Whole lot better you know.”

I coughed a little and politely asked him to talk about Unix passwords and not about my academic excellence in B-Tech.

“Oh Yeah! I am coming there. You know what your problem is? I will tell you what your problem is. You tend to follow the highway even when you are trying to beat the system. Remember, you are NOT Rajinikanth. So leave the highway to him and take the crooked ways. There are hundreds of such routs. THINK!"

I thought then. I sat in front of our library (Affectionately called Taj of the South – inside the university campus because of its unnecessary dome.) on the grass and then 'thought again'.

It was four in the morning. There was a cool breeze; a breeze that would make the sailors happy; a breeze that traveled all the way from Seven Hills; a breeze that carried me a message from His Holiness Venkateswara Swamy. I strongly believed it was He who told me how to crack UNIX passwords.

I ran.

I covered the distance of one kilometer, in the second serious sprint of my life, in five minutes. Only later I would realize that I had actually parked my bicycle in front of our Taj Mahal.

To be continued…

Episode 2: Wonder Years

That’s Life – 2

It is said that everyone reaches his/her peak of academic excellence at the fag end of their education. In my case, the reverse was true. From my Einstein days (Oh how I wish I had remained an Einstein forever!), my academics had been on a steady decline. Some of the landmark events during this journey –

• 87% in Class 7
• 79% in Class 10
• Failed in Intermediate (Plus Two) Mathematics. Scored an unbeatable 41 out of 150, a record in my college.

My career would have stopped right at that point if it were not for Shri Nandamuri Taraka Ramarao, known as NTR, who in all his wisdom thought of a beautiful concept called Instant Reexamination for people who flunked in not more than one paper. Thanks to NTR, I did not lose an academic year.

I cleared the Instant – got a great rank in the state common entrance test for engineering admissions and walked into Sri Venkateswara University, Tirupati in late 1993.

My very first day in this lovely university deserves a few keystrokes here.

'What is your name?'

'Venu.'

'Where from?'

'Nellore. Heard of it?'

SLAP!

'Amma!'

'Say Sir at the end of each sentence.. And don't kochchen me!'

'Yeah.. yes sir!'

'So what is your name again?'

'Venu sir'

'Sir Venu? Are you a knight?'

'No sir.. My name is Venu, sir'

'That's better. I don't like this name.'

'Sir?'

'Choose something else.'

'Sir?'

SLAP!

'Urgh...'

'Choose another name.'

'Nirmal, sir'

'Good! Now run around the campus shouting that you are Nirmal'

'Sir.. please'

SLAP! BANG.. DABB...

'Yes sir'

And suddenly God appeared in front of us from nowhere. Since we the lesser mortals would be vaporized if he showed his true self, he assumed the form of our college principal. The guy in front of me vanished in a jiffy.

'What are you doing here?' asked God.

'Aw.. err.. ??'

'Get into your classroom now!'

He saved me that day from shouting from the rooftops that I was Nirmal. However the name stuck on. People called me Nirmal or Vedam… but never Venu. In fact very few of my Engineering classmates knew my first name.

So, Nirmal had become quite famous in his college for no apparent reason. People just wanted a bakra and Nirmal was the obvious choice. He was too tall, had to be content with a twenty twenty vision only through a pair of corrective lenses and moreover had always 'thought' about something or the other.

In addition, this item knew what a time cone was.. and when he managed an 87% in Microprocessors and Microcomputers in which the university first student could get only 62%, it was proved that Nirmal was Mr. Nobody-Mess-With-Him!

To be continued…

Episode 1: Genesis

It was a quiet day. There weren't any thunderstorms and there certainly was no big bright heavenly star hanging from the sky when I came into this world on the 8th of March 1976 in Nellore, Andhra Pradesh. It happened one night! And it could have happened any other night.

When I was four years old I could accurately reproduce the Telugu alphabet and this was not by any means an ordinary achievement. I was hailed as the Einstein of Modern times. People used to remark, "Venu could reproduce all letters of the Telugu alphabet and you know, he is only four years old. He will definitely become a scientist one day."

That, my dear readers, is the only notable achievement in my life. I didn't become a scientist and am not even a relative of Einstein.

Speaking of alphabets brings to mind a funny situation. I was four years old and was in pre-school. The teacher, a very pleasant lady indeed, wanted me to write "a aa i ee". (అఆఇఈ)

I started quite confidently. "a" was easy. "aa" was even more easy. "i" was a little difficult and "ee" was surprisingly difficult. Now was the turn of “u"...

"u"?? How the hell should I write "u"?

It was in the middle of December and I was sweating like a pig. The teacher’s pleasantness vanished all of a sudden. In fact she disappeared into thin air and Maha Kali replaced her.

I was trembling.. I couldn't write "u"... Oh God! What should I do now?

I heard a voice then… a booming voice it was. It told me what to do in situations like that. And when I followed those heavenly instructions, I was little aware that I wouldn’t be able to pull off such a courageous act again in my life.

I ran. Wind in my hair and certainly no sand but just concrete at my feet, I ran like a Cheetah – out of the classroom leaving the bewildered Maha Kali and the envious classmates behind – through the Gate of Destiny, our school gate – into the Free World, the cramped street.

I ran like an Olympic Runner – The rewards of which I would bear later. My mind preset and my body taken hostage by the subconscious.

I ran like there was no tomorrow into the afternoon Sun much to the shock of the onlookers. I ran with little respect to the traffic on the street. I cared a hoot for the unfortunate vehicles plying on that route. My mind was blank. My post was home. And I reached it in ten minutes. Quite a spectacular touchdown it was, considering I was only four years old then.

I entered the house.. Gasping and drenched in sweat. My mother was taken aback.

Within five minutes of my grand entry into 1032, Pogathota, Nellore – My elder brother – a class five student of the same school - rushed in totally thrilled and definitely not concerned. Maha Kali dispatched him duly to check on me after my unprecedented sprint from the school.

What did I do?

Nothing.

Why did I run home?

Because I didn't feel like staying at school.

Spank Spank..

Waaaa!! Sorry! I'd never again do that

.

Nope! I know the roads are dangerous. I won't repeat it

.

Spank Spank!..

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA...

My dear reader, that was exactly how I started my schooling. Education in my case was inseparably bundled with schooling. Mark Twain wouldn’t approve of it. But that was how I got educated! By going to a school and memorizing the answers to previous years’ question papers.

To be continued…