An Ode to Age Of Empires

For all the places I lived and travelled to, it was my first visit to the land of my kindergarten hero. In one of those strange work hazards, I was to indulge in touristy sightseeing to the palace which was worthy of the great warrior. And then it all came back in a flash. 

Srikanth - Sauron

Vamsi - Vams

Varun - Chinna

Udayan - Knight

Rahul - Jing Bang

Me - Tipu Sultan

The all-conquering villainous dark emperor of Lord Of The Rings was Srikanth's alias. Sauron appealed to his preference of  brute power and mismatched domination. 

Vamsi, who was never accused of being too creative when it came to names, (will save the incredible story of the naming of his pet labrador for another day) kept the alias Vams.

Varun was the no-nonsense chap, who couldn't be bothered to come up with a novel alias. His nickname sufficed for him. 'Chinna' meant the 'little fellow'. 

Knight, which is a horse-mounted cavalry military unit symbolised valour, pride and a staunch dedication to cause. Udayan aspired for all these values in his game. 

Jing Bang is the sort of ridiculous slang term only someone like Rahul could come up with. It signifies a crowd, and assembling one in the game wasn't ironically his strong point. 

Age Of Empires 2 was the greatest LAN Video Game to have ever been made. And it was worth spending every last penny of pocket money we had at Reliance Web World. We would reach the place a good couple of hours before it even opened in the morning, unable to contain the anticipation to try out the brilliantly thought-out strategy of the sleepless last night. So persistent we were that the closing hours were often extended and exclusively for us. 

 And when we exhausted the last penny of pocket money we had by the penultimate year of our engineering course, we set up our own gaming network, alternating between Vamsi's empty penthouse room and Rahul's  mom's makeshift office. A laptop was considered a valuable tool for learning and no responsible parent could deny his/her son this tool. Needless to say that this sentiment was exploited for a good cause. And so many a night were spent carefully building civilisations, raising armies, devising strategies and then going into battle till only one team remained. 

We were not one of the millions who played that mindless Counter Strike  across college campuses in the country. Neither were we part of the sordid group, who gamed Age Of Empires with a sort of mechanical efficiency,  which prized speed of fingers over sharpness of the mind. 

We were the unabashed purists, the dreamy philosophers who played the game the way it was meant to be played. For us, Age Of Empires was an elaborate battle of the wits, a game of chess stretched to its extreme limits by pondered craft and  guiltless imagination. 

Having long archers protected by  multiple front lines of pikemen infantry and flanked by Saracen mounted camels is an effective defence strategy against an advancing horde of Persian war elephants, complimented by bombard cannons and cataphract cavalry. And that is not the sort of pulsating  wisdom, you pick up in Switching Theory and Logic Design or some other crappy course like that. It wouldn't be too far-fetched to say we learned more in those 'virtual' battlefields that we ever did in the 'real' classrooms. (The words 'virtual' and 'real' to be interchanged?)

Prologue:

Tipu Sultan, with his pencil moustache, despairing at the advanced infiltration of the British troops sits down for a meal on the  insistence of his subjects. As he is about to keep the piece of bread in his mouth, the messenger enters hurriedly and conveys that the main gate of the palace has been breached. Tipu, places the food back in his plate, his facial expression betraying the slightest hint of exasperated helplessness and crestfallen resignation. But it quickly changes into a cold, steely stare into space, the fiery spirit of royal defiance flooding back into him. He reaches for his famed sword, swaggers to his feet and marches into inevitable death. And immortalised martyrdom. 

I watched this scene in black and white on a CRT, on the Doordarshan Network as an impressionable 5 year old. I went to my mother and told her that I was going to be Tipu one day. 

The Most Awesome Bunch Of Chaps Ever

July 2011 to February 2013. 1.58 years. 19 months. 580 days. I couldn't go on without coming across as weirder than I am. The blazing heat and the intolerable humidity made it seem like much, much more though. Never mind I couldn't speak the local language, the place was cruel to the 'outsider'. The looks of bewilderment were etched across the faces of the team members when I was first introduced as the new unit head. I had no bloody business to be there in the first place, forget handling the team.

How time changes views, attitudes, perceptions! Work, despite being chaotic and frustrating at times, was entrepreneurial and challenging. It gave scope to create and institutionalize. The transitions to processes, personnel and place of work were taken into stride. We were in the madness together. And ironically, it was the only thing which kept me sane. I did my very best to take the unit forward while trying to make a positive difference to my team members. I like to think, I did quite well.

In the fall of 2013, it was felt that my work in Chennai was done and it was time to move onto another challenge. (On a side note, the blazing heat and the intolerable humidity it seems were not done with me just yet. They were going to follow me to my next destination). And so a team outing was planned as my tenure was coming to an end, coinciding with my farewell. After the fun and games during the day, there was a surprise planned for me.

As I stood in the middle of the circle formed by the 60 guys who were my life for the last year and half, words were hard to come by. After a few minutes I regained my usual penchant for eloquent speeches. And then went to share quirky tit bits and funny anecdotes regarding each and every one of them. And after what seemed like more than 2 hours, I had covered the last team member. And then each of them had some very kind words to say of me, of which I must admit, am totally undeserving. Fire crackers were lit and then Vinod had slipped a gift-wrapped box into my hands with his usual grin.

No one had ever gifted me anything worthy of mention. Not that I care for that sort of pansy gestures. But this was truly amazing. I hastily removed the wrapping and held up the object. The New iPhone shone in the receding rays of the Mahabalipuram sun. I was truly humbled and could only manage a low, uncharacteristic 'Thanks'. It was from that moment on going to be my precious. And it would be treasured forever.

And then the mass music was put on and I was implored to join them to shake a leg. I could never ever dance to save my life, the absolute lack of rhythm in my body making it close to impossible to indulge in this supposedly natural bodily expression. But this was their last wish from me and I couldn't deny them. Never mind that I moved like an inebriated primate, they still encouraged me with their rowdy laughs and loud screeching as the night drew to a close.

The next day, after sending away the last of my luggage, I handed over the keys of the house to the landlord and left the scene. I was leaving the city and for good. And I was going to make a stop over at my office where my team members were waiting to greet me farewell. After finishing the last of the handing-over formalities to the incoming unit head, I made my way out to crack a few jokes with my team. And as the time of the departing flight drew near, I went about the individual goodbyes. And it felt surreal as I waved to my team, sticking out of the cab window, as it sped away.

The bewildered looks of the start were long replaced by those of cheer. I still couldn't utter a word of the language. But I was truly accepted. I was now one of them.And there are few sentiments more pure and privileged than that.

There was respect. Respect which no money could buy.
There was loyalty. Loyalty which no gesture could engender.
And the feelings were mutual.

To My Boys @ APHS Chennai. The most awesome bunch of chaps ever.

APHS Sales Conference, Kerala (December 2012) : There were some games organised for the respective teams in the spirit of competition. One of them was a simple, indoor version of football. As the drama would have it, the last kick needed a goal for our team to win. The ball was placed. After a few anxious moments spent switching gaze between the ball and the goal mouth, I went for it. The next I realised, I was being hoisted in the air and was then paraded around on shoulders. 

There was snow. And then some more.

There was snow. It was everywhere. It was dazzlingly and brilliantly white. And then some more.
The stream water was freezing. It numbed the hands and face when splashed. But it was pure and tasted divine. 
The winds were ghostly at night. They howled and kept us up hoping that the tent wouldn't blow away.

We obviously weren't in any sort of physical condition to undertake the trek. Also it was impossible to summit the peak at this time of the year, owing to the snow capping of the mountains. The same was communicated and the same was acknowledged. But then, when did such trivialities ever discourage us? Only a misguided overestimation of our capabilities and a gross underestimation of the challenges would convince us to go ahead with it. And there was never any shortage of that.
 
When we weren't crossing streams on sketchy tree trunks or hopping up and down boulders, we trekked. We trekked till our muscles ached and our lungs gasped for air. And then we trekked more. And it wasn't just about the stamina.  One's survival instincts make one ignore the cold biting the fingers as one claws into the snow for the much needed support. One would crawl on all fours when needed to fight gravity and compensate for friction. After all, one does what one can to ensure one doesn't tumble down into obscurity.

It would have made for a romantic tale, if we had against all odds scaled the peak and planted the flag of victory at the very top. It was not to be. The mini avalanches, the ever increasing gradient of the ridiculous terrain and the sighting of a bear needed us to to pull back at around 11,000 feet. But it didn't feel disappointing. We had punched way above our weight. It was good enough for now. It was endured. It could/would/should be conquered at a later stage.

Apparently, getting the necessary traction in the soft snow requires a measured approach. The boot needs to be planted into the ice at an angle of as close to 90 degrees as possible to the gradient surface, with the heel playing the role of the anchor. And sledging on your backside on the descent, when done in a controlled, technical manner can be real fun. But it sure as hell doesn't feel comfortably numb. We can now vouch for it.

We made the final descent from the camp to the pick-up point after saying our goodbyes on the Sunday morning. As we surveyed the valley from the vantage point one final time, there was a sense of satisfaction. The thighs were strained. The knees hurt. The calves ached. The ankles were bruised. But we were standing tall.


Location : Manali

Stage : The Hampta Pass

Cast : Srikanth 'Snow Leopard' Reddy, Udayan, Peehu, Madhu and The Captain's Armband, Mr Bear

Directors : Rohan 'Ra's Al Ghul' Jain, Jai aka Govind aka Meena (Renok Adventures)

Special Thanks To : Kama (Guide), Issu (Cook) and the gang

Acknowledgements : i) Special praise reserved to Peehu for being adamant and having the bottle to do the strenuous trek despite being down with fever and cold. Mrs Singh is now formally and ceremoniously inducted into the group. ii) The good people at Renok Adventures for their support, patience, sucking at Uno and being good sport in general.