"...is that how you talk to a nice stranger in real life...?"

"...is that how you talk to a nice stranger in real life...?"

...asked my senior, in the code review meeting. 

It was 2006, I was relatively fresh in the role of a software engineer at Infosys. My job was to analyse production code written for a US based insurance company & find the cause of issue reported & then update the code to fix it. The piece of code I was working on that day needed me to add an end user error message informing the user that they had exceeded their insurance limit.

Every coder would know, most of the code one writes is copied & pasted from some other piece of code. So I found a piece that suited my requirements & pasted it, leaving the error message text about exceeding limits as it was - "You have crossed your limit!".

When my senior read it, she wanted me to think about it. "Make every error message polite & informational. The end user should not feel guilty or offended when they read it. Besides, this is you talking to them. The message you code will be read by thousands of people. Would you want to talk to them in such a dry tone which doesn't even help them?" She asked. We then changed it to "Dear <<user name>>, the amount you are trying to enter in the claim field is higher than the limit of $<<value>> as per your policy. Kindly review the same and reach out to us in case of an issue." 

From then on, I was careful about the error message texts. Even today, when I give requirements to our IT partner, I try to give the possible error messages along with the requirements. If not, then it is during user acceptance testing that I love to check all error messages, because error messages are often critical in guiding the end user. Plus, every interaction the end user has with the technology should be pleasant as your code represents your organization's brand.

The reason this story came to my mind is the error messages shown in the image attached. The first one is an empathetic error message seen on LinkedIn which popped up yesterday when I was trying to perform a search while my network switched. Technically, it wasn't LinkedIn 's code at fault here, yet the coder took the ownership & comforted me with a polite error message. The second one is from an insurance portal. The moment I filled out a form & hit submit, this was the error I got. It almost made me feel like I was caught committing a crime! I shut the webpage after the experience. Bad coding had probably cost them a prospective client. 

This is not limited to just error message language, somewhere the UI of a website, the terms used, the tone of the system generated emails/smses tell a deeper story about the brand - thoroughness, eye for detail & empathy towards their clients. Every page of a website goes through multiple reviews that are done not just by the IT folks but the business folks that own the page, and if all of them are indifferent to the end user, then God save the customer once he/she is acquired.

The devil is in the details.

"...but we came before them..."

"...but we came before them..." 

...said the lady, raising her hands in protest. 

Yesterday evening, we were at a clinic. Our token read "9". "3" was already in with the doctor. Just then, a lady walked in & the assistant gave her an assuring look. "3" came out & the lady was sent in next, as "4" to "11" watched, confused. One of them (she was "5") asked the assistant "What just happened? We've been waiting & you send her out of turn?" The assistant just smiled, but "5" was in no mood to let go, so she demanded an explanation. "That lady has a critical issue that requires an urgent surgery, hence sir had asked me to let her in as soon as she came,'' the assistant said. "But our time is important too..." she retorted, but then backed off, half-convinced.

At that moment, a recent graphic I had seen around "Equality" & "Equity" sprang up in my mind. "Equality" would mean each of us should go in based on our turns. But if the doctor's assessment was right, the lady that barged in probably needed the doctor's time on a higher priority than the rest of us. That was "Equity".

But this graphic I had seen also had 2 more parts labelled "Reality" & "Liberation". So I pondered how I could apply those two to the availability of doctors/hospitals.

"Reality" is probably the fact that good doctors/hospitals that charge high fees are only accessible to the financially well off (easily) & the middle class (on occasions they need them badly). They are practically out of reach for people at the bottom of the pyramid.

"Liberation" is probably a situation where everyone has access to every doctor & every hospital irrespective of their paying capacity. But obviously, such a world would only exist in an episode of Black Mirror, if at all.

On the way back home, as I drove down the flyover, I saw a chauffer driven white Mercedes coming from the other end with a doctor's sign on the wind shield. I turned my head sideways to look at the person sitting in the back seat. He turned out to be someone from my old neighborhood. In the 1990s, the grapevine had it that he had got through a good medical college as he was from a backward caste (he got a reserved seat) and his super rich father had paid a handsome donation (the most abused term in colleges) to secure the admission. And then the very next moment, I thought about a hard-working upper caste Brahmin friend from a lower middle class family who had missed an IIM cut-off by a whisker, as he watched reserved category candidates (some of them from rich affluent families) with much lower percentile go past him.

Perhaps equity should not be about caste but about the economically weaker getting a fair share of the pie (and even then, probably not 50% of the pie, leaving other deserving prospects high & dry), I thought, as I parked my car.

The doctor's visit went well. And no, I wasn't thinking about his caste after this whole incident. Erm, well, definitely not for more than 2 seconds, I swear.

"....its Ok, don't worry, we will go from the shortcut..."

"....its Ok, don't worry, we will go from the shortcut..." 

...said mom, to calm me down. This was on one of the days when I was in primary school and used to take the school bus daily. 

It was morning school for me, so getting up and getting ready on time was always a challenge. There were days when the bus driver (let's call him Uncle Chris) would honk & wait for a while if the kid wasn't ready. But then one day, we found out that Uncle Chris was assigned another route and we had a new driver (lets call him Uncle Will) at his place. Uncle Will would just not wait beyond a few seconds and take off if the kid did not arrive in those few seconds. So in one such instance, while mom & I were rushing down the stairs, he left with the bus. I panicked. That's when mom told me we could still catch the bus by taking the small lane opposite our society. The other end of the lane opened up at a road where the bus would reach after a couple of stops. So we ran through the lane and waited at the other end, sweating. The bus arrived a few moments later and I boarded it. Will gave me the look, as if I were a convicted serial killer walking out of the court room.

Slowly, this started happening every few days. Once a week or so, I'd be late and we'd run through the lane to catch the bus. In the process, I'd sometimes trip or bang my knee against the rods ( the narrow lane had rods in between so that vehicles would not pass through) while we rushed to reach the other end. This continued for a few weeks. Eventually, many parents complained about Will's conduct and the authorities got Chris back. I never had to use that lane again that year.

- None of Uncle Chris or Uncle Will were probably wrong. Perhaps both prioritized a separate set of values. Uncle Chris probably was more empathetic and Uncle Will was more of a disciplinarian.

- Its great to discover a shortcut that helps us sometimes. However, if we start banking on the shortcut too often, knowing about its availability, we might need to be prepared for a sweaty experience & the possibilities of tripping/getting bruised while using it.

The availability of a shortcut is better than not having one. Falling into the trap of getting addicted to some of these shortcuts, however, is what we will struggle with for all of our lives, probably. 

"...𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣... 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘪..."

"...𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘩𝘢𝘣... 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘪..."

...said the Iron Man [presser a.k.a. istry wala] as he continued to move the iron back & forth. ["𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘳, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭"].

Yesterday evening, around 10 pm, I went to collect clothes given a day prior for pressing. To my surprise, he had not pressed them. In fact, he was pressing them as I reached there.  "𝘚𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘚𝘪𝘳, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦. 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 (𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵) 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦,'' he said apologetically. "𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥" I said, "𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰" I added. 

To kill time, I decided to strike a conversation. "𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴" I said. "𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘥𝘢𝘺,'' he replied. "𝘔𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮. 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘭. 𝘊𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩,'' he added, when he saw my intrigued face, picking the last piece that had to be pressed. It was something made of a pretty thin & delicate material. "𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘵𝘺 𝘪𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴? 𝘚𝘰 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘣 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 '𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯' 𝘵𝘰 '𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘬' 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩!" I asked, very curiously. That was when he said what I quoted above. "𝘐𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 & 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘺𝘱𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨" he revealed, smiling as he continued to chew on his pan masala and finished ironing the last piece.

In our day to day life, the trick indeed is about using the right pace and applying the right amount of pressure (on self and/or others) based on the situation at hand, I thought, as I walked back with the pressed clothes in my hand. And we definitely need to be careful while we are at it. Too fast and/or too less pressure could mean we fail to iron out the issue at hand. Too slow and/or too much pressure could risk irreversible burning damage.

𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘩𝘢𝘢𝘭𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘥𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘪.

"...𝘺𝘢𝘢𝘳 𝘬𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘣 𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘢..."

"...𝘺𝘢𝘢𝘳 𝘬𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘢𝘩𝘪 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘣 𝘬𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘢..."

...I told a friend, after calling him from a public telephone ["I just did not understand how it happened buddy"].

18th Nov 2009. The day I laid hands on my first car. An amazing Fiat Punto. I had used up a huge chunk of my savings (after already having used a lot of it to pay off my education loan) along with some liberal funding from mom to make the purchase. It was a petrol variant. That, coupled with the fact that the car wasn't known for mileage & my sub-optimal driving, meant I had to be prepared for large fuel bills. So for most of the time, I'd not use the air conditioning. Had to save fuel. I'd drive mostly with the front two windows rolled down to aid cross ventilation.

One evening, I was stuck on the ever clogged LBS road. I was in deep thought & suddenly I felt a thud in front of the car. As I tried to comprehend what had happened, I saw a guy right outside my window yelling at me "𝘉𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦!" I was flabbergasted! I was stationary for the last 2 min. There was no way I could have hit him even if I wanted to! I tried to talk sense into him, but before I could complete it, he just ran away. "𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘫𝘦𝘳𝘬..." I told my self, still confused at what had just happened. I had a habit of keeping my laptop bag & mobile phones (a personal & a Blackberry given by the employer) in the passenger seat next to me. At the next signal, I reached out to pick up my phone. To my surprise, I couldn't locate either of them. "𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘥," I figured, so I turned on the lights & tried looking around. They were nowhere to be found. At that moment I realized I had been cleverly robbed! While that guy was distracting me, his accomplice picked up my phones from the other window.

I panicked. So I parked the car & found a public phone & just called a friend. It was the first (& only [touch wood, glass, steel & whatever] ) time that I had my phones stolen/lost. Later on, this modus operandi was all over the news. The gang was called "The thak thak gang" [thak thak being the sound of knocking used to distract the victims].

Everytime I recall the incident, I think about the saying - "𝗣𝗲𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗪𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗣𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗙𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵". The money that I lost on the value of the two smartphones was way more than the money I would have spent on the fuel had I kept the windows rolled up & the AC on for all the years that I drove the car. 

Since that day, several times every year I have come across situations where I have (or was about to) made short sighted decisions & thought about this incident. It goes without saying, be it summer or winter, since then I kept all my windows rolled up.

While it is difficult to think too much about every decision we make, it always helps to be 𝗣𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗪𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗣𝗲𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝗙𝗼𝗼𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵 (if not wise too).

"The cycle is too big for her...."

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳..."

is what I always said, everytime 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝.

Her grandpa had gifted her a bicycle on her birthday. For the first year, she cycled with the support wheels. Then I figured she would never learn unless she tried without them. So a year back, I detached them & tried to train her without them. After several days of trying, I saw 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 & so I gave up, thinking the cycle was too big for her.

We did not use the cycle for a few months. Then again we tried for a few days, but again 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝. "𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳" I told myself, & again, for the next few months,the only thing that occupied the cycle seat was dust. 

Last Monday, I egged her on to try again. I took it to the local shop to inflate the deflated tyres. Her feet still didn't reach the ground in entirety when she sat on the seat. "𝘓𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 1 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩" I told her. "𝘐𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘴𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 30 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦" I added. She nodded in agreement & we found an empty lane.

As always, the experience was a testing one for her & me. I kept telling her where she was going wrong & she kept giving reasons. 20 mins in & I saw she was able to manage independently for just about 2-3 secs, falling a few times thereafter, suffering a few bruises as 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 to maintain her balance. I kept giving feedback to help her understand what she had to do & that is when she said "𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘺𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨". "𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘶𝘴𝘦" I thought, but I decided to keep mum for the next few mins. All she took was 5 more mins to start cycling on her own. I was astonished. It was fascinating to see her achieve something in a matter of mins for which I had budgeted a month. She practised for a few more mins before we came back home, sweaty & happy.

Learnings:

- We all need support wheels when we start something new, but ultimately, the real learning only starts once the wheels are taken away. We might have to suffer a few bruises in the process.

- It wasn't she who was failing everytime over the months. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫. Perhaps she would have learned earlier, had I tried a bit harder.

- The task often seems 𝐛𝐢𝐠, but maybe that is an excuse we give ourselves for our failure to put in what is required. Sometimes a perceived 𝐛𝐢𝐠 task also needs 𝐛𝐢𝐠 effort & 𝐛𝐢𝐠 patience.

- Pep talk & constant feedback is essential. However, it is important to realize 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 talking & allow the trainee to internalize the feedback & focus on the task.

Finally, this week, 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 at my goal and 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 in achieving her goal. 

"....see, I told you she is always smiling... even when she is walking alone....it is really weird..."

 

"....see, I told you she is always smiling... even when she is walking alone....it is really weird..."

...said a friend, pointing at this girl walking towards us in our engineering college cafeteria, as we were sipping on a cutting chai that had a plate of bun-maska for company. This lady always had a smile on her face. I don't recall seeing her angry or upset ever. 

About a month later, we were all sitting on the stairs outside the physics lab. It was viva (oral examination) time, so everyone was anxious. Every student coming out of the lab was given the paparazzi treatment. Everyone asked just one question: "Kya pucha?" (What were you asked?). The celebrity would then narrate how they navigated through the event. In engineering, some vivas were a breeze and others a nightmare. This one was the latter.

A few minutes later, this lady walked up the stairs and, as usual, she had a smile on her face. This friend of mine could no longer contain his curiosity and blurted out to her "How are you always smiling? Aren't you worried? This guy is asking really tricky questions in there!" "You know what..." she looked at him in the eye and said, still smiling... "...I once read somewhere that as we grow older, our default facial expressions get accentuated based on the facial expressions we sport for most of our lives. I want to look like a smiling old lady when I grow up. So I try to keep smiling as much as I can to get to that phase,'' she said, as she just walked past towards where her group was sitting.

After a while, it was her turn and when she came out after the Viva, she got asked the same thing - "How was it?" "It was s**t!" she replied, grinning ear to ear, as she walked past, shaking her head side to side.

The girl's name was Smitha and unfortunately I have not been in touch with her since the engineering days, but I am sure some common friends will get this story to her.

Thank you Smitha, for a life-lesson that was never forgotten.