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Showing posts with label IBM. Show all posts
Showing posts with label IBM. Show all posts

Monday, May 19, 2025

16 Pitch, Presentation, and Pimms

I lost interest in cricket after school, but I was always open to enjoying it -- not as a serious sport to follow, but as a form of entertainment, like going to the beach or watching a movie. Unlike the effort I once made as a schoolboy -- begging and borrowing just to get a ticket for one day of a five-day Test at Eden Gardens, my subsequent visits were always as guests of someone or the other. In India, HSBC, with whom I had a big relationship -- thanks to the IBM money they were holding in escrow -- had given me tickets for an IPL match at Eden Gardens. But in this the biggest jackpot was Lords.

We had made the transition from PwC to IBM and we were engaged in a data warehousing project for British Petroleum. This was in 2003-2004 and if I remember correctly, the UK partner was a gentleman called Siva Ramesh, a person of Sri Lankan origin who claimed to have played a few tests for the Sri Lanka cricket team! He was the overall project partner and I was the partner heading the delivery operations from IBM Kolkata. The project was not very complicated -- it was mostly about writing extract-transform-load code using most probably Informatica -- and it was going pretty smoothly. Unlike US clients, BP was a very generous company, so much so that they virtually shut down their operations around Christmas and allowed almost all their employees to take leave. That meant, that we -- the contractors, had little to do but our billing never stopped. BP also sent nice gifts to our staff and all in all it was all very congenial. This was before the rise of Big Tech and oil companies still ruled the roost with monstrous profits in pumping and selling oil. So they could afford to be generous.

While the data warehousing project was good, Siva, the ever enterprising ex-PwC partner had a bigger goal in mind. BP was contemplating a bigger project and to pitch for it, he wanted me to personally join him for the bid. There had been some not-so-good-natured rivalry between IBM Kolkata and IBM Bangalore and one of my presentations on why IBM Kolkata was a more appropriate option had made quite a hit in the world of IBM Consulting. Siva too had been led to believe that if I could be on the bidding team then the possibility of winning was higher. So what he did was quite interesting. He scheduled a high level project review meeting of the data warehousing project so that BP would fund my travel to the UK. This meant I could be present -- and be a part of the bidding team -- when the bid for the next project was made. This also meant that BP would be funding my travel -- and of course this could be nothing less than Business Class trip! In those days, Indian partners, especially junior ones like me, could never travel Business Class but since this would be funded by the ever generous client, we were on.

I had made a similar trip for the SkyTV project that was run by another UK partner, and good friend Graham Jones, so there was an excellent precedent and the bean counters at IBM decided to let me go.

The trip was fantastic for a variety of reasons one of which was my visit to the former PwC office on the South Bank of the Thames from where we had a wonderful view of the river. Subsequently I joined their bid team at the BP premises where I came across a strange safety procedure. Petroleum being a high risk industry, it was a practice in BP that any meeting, on any BP premises, would be preceded by a safety announcement made by the senior-most BP employee in the meeting who would, almost ritualistically, read out relevant parts of the safety manual and tell us about emergency exits!

In any case, the presentation went on quite well and I remember one question that was put to us. Why was the BP project being proposed out of IBM Kolkata and not from the far larger IBM Bangalore premises to which I replied in a flash! "Because I am from IBM Kolkata and if you need one neck to catch, I am offering you my neck, and you can rest assured that your job would be done." Apparently this single statement of mine struck an immediate chord with the BP management and for all practical purposes the deal was sealed.

Now that I had won his bid for him, Siva offered me a fantastic reward. The Indian cricket team, led by Sourav Ganguly was in England on a three match ODI "Natwest" series and had lost the first two matches. The third and last one was scheduled for Lords later that week and Siva promised to get me ticket for the match. That too, not any ticket but tickets for Graham Gooch / David Gower suite in the Tavern Stand Box. Who could ask for anything more?

So that Sunday, I showed up at Lords and was met by Siva and we had a gala time watching the game. Fortunately, after two previous losses, Sourav Ganguly scored a stunning 90 runs and helped India to a thrilling win that we enjoyed to our heart's content. The hospitality in the box was just superb and we helped ourselves to some excellent lunch and for the first time, I had Pimms, a gin-based liqueur, which apparently was the flavour of the season that year.

But while watching India win at Lord's was wonderful, the best was yet to come! The next day I reached to Heathrow to catch the BA flight back to India and after checking-in headed towards the Business Class Lounge to await my flight. And who do I see sharing the lounge with me? None other than my child hood hero Kapil Dev who too had been at Lord's the day before. This was before the era of camera phones, so I do not have a selfie but I had to take an autograph and what better place could I find for this priceless signature?

My ticket for the game itself.



And so ended my great visit to Lord's -- the Kailash of Kricket!


Saturday, May 17, 2025

13 Bitcoin : From the Illusory to the Real

That the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad is still so relevant today is evident when we see its directive  असतो मा सद्गमय -- from the illusory to the real -- being applied in the context of modern technology. This happens when we perceive the emergence of real wealth from an illusory, abstract and mathematical construct called Bitcoin. Today, this path breaking cryptocurrency is worth over USD 100,000 but when I started with it, it was nothing more than a game. A game which, in hindsight, far reaching consequences.

In 2007-2008 I had started dabbling with a technology called Second Life. One can think of SL as a "video game" where people can shoot and kill each other but actually it belonged to a genre of products called Massively Multiuser Role Playing Games (MMORPG) where humans could log in, assume the look of avatars and interact with each other in many ways. I was never really a game enthusiast but I joined Second Life because it offered one amazing feature that no other MMORPG offered, namely the ability to construct your own world, using in-game world building tools.

IBM, where I was working at that time, was also quite interested in the possibilities offered by Second Life and had built a James Bond / Dr No themed presence on this platform. I was perhaps the only IBM employee outside the US / UK who was in any way involved with this technology and in a moment of madness, I too, in my personal capacity -- in my Calcutta Cyclone avatar -- purchased a piece of virtual land, Mayapur -- the world of illusions, and built, of all things a Kali Temple, that still exists today. As in any real world temple, I had put out a donation box and I was pleasantly surprised when some 'visitor's actually dropped in some pranami into the box giving me a small stash of Linden Dollars. In addition, as a land owner, I was also getting a monthly stipend of Linden Dollars which kept accumulating in my online wallet.

The Second Life craze peaked around 2009 and then quietly faded away as IBM and other companies lost interest but deep in my heart, I had fallen in love with this platform and the Kali Temple that I had built and I decided to keep my account alive even though it cost me US$ 60 per year. As I would realise later on this was perhaps the best economic decision that I had ever taken.

I left IBM in 2008 and moved to IIT Kharagpur in the background something else was brewing. Sometime in 2009, an anonymous genius who identified himself as Satoshi Nakamoto created an amazing mechanism that resulted in the creation of an internet based entity called the Blockchain. This allowed the creation and storage of a token called Bitcoin.. Thousands of people have written millions of words to explain what is a Bitcoin so I will not repeat the same here. All that I will say is that :

(a) just as the world wide web was an application of internet technology that allowed the storage and transfer information in  secure and efficient manner, the blockchain was an application of internet technology that allowed the storage and transfer of value in an efficient manner.

(b) the sweat equity of running the blockchain to ensure the legitimacy of the transfer of value, was folded back into the value that was being stored and transferred. It was as if the employees of a bank were being paid in shares of the bank itself. Establishing the equivalence of the asset under management with the payment or reward being made to manage the the asset was such a breakthrough concept that it  should have won Satoshi Nakamoto the Nobel Prize in Economics!

This blinding revelation -- or should I say, epiphany -- occurred to me sometime in 2013 and I decided to explore Bitcoins further, not from the point of view of investment but from the sheer and palpable excitement of being onto to something very big and unique. I tried setting up a Bitcoin mining node and soon realised that I would need a fairly big computer that I would have to keep running for a long time. 

So let me tell you what I did ..

Mining Bitcoins is a complicated process and I decided to stay away from it. Instead my focus was on acquiring some Bitcoins, but even if you want to acquire you need a place to store it. You need a wallet.

A wallet is a piece of software that is identified with a long string of numbers. This software can be located on your desktop or laptop machine ( like having a safe built into the wall of your house to store gold, cash ) or you can get an online wallet hosted by vendor ( like having an demat account with a depository or a cash account with a bank )

I opened an account with Blockchain.info and created my wallet with this identifier 1AoD4Ax1xHtwPCa99GbiQo86Bya77Hu8Bo The next challenge is to fill the wallet with some Bitcoins. But where do you get Bitcoins ? You can join a Bitcoin mining consortium, offer your internet connected machine for running the "mining" program and get a tiny share of a Bitcoin if and when your consortium gets a Bitcoin.

Or you can search Google for websites where you can get free Bitcoins. I visited Bitvisitor and entered my wallet identifier (given above ) and pressed submit. This leads through a series of websites, each requiring me to spend five minutes, at the end of which a tiny fraction of a Bitcoin was credited to my wallet. This was good but far too slow. After spending hours, I just had less than a thousandth of a Bitcoin !

Clearly something faster was required !

Then I remembered Second Life and the stash of Linden Dollars that I had accumulated as my avatar called Calcutta Cyclone. Now I would have to retrieve my Linden Dollars and convert them to Bitcoin. This is possible through an account in the Virtual World Exchange.

So I entered Second Life with my Calcutta Cyclone avatar, located a Virtual World Exchange terminal and transfered my Linden Dollars to my Virtual World Exchange account. Next I logged into Virtual World Exchange -- which is nothing but a normal commodity or currency exchange -- converted my Linden Dollars to Bitcoins at the current rate of exchange ( around SLL 36,000 = 1 BTC). The last step was to transfer the Bitcoins from my Virtual World Exchange to my Bitcoin wallet at BlockChain.

This takes time because this transaction must be verified by a large number of Bitcoin servers to confirm that there was no double spend. This process can be accelerated by paying higher fees but I was patient and after a couple of hours, the transfer was formally recognized by the Blockchain server.

So now I had a clean pile of Bitcoins in my wallet. I could either withdraw this money as US Dollars through my Paypal account, which would show up in my Standard Chartered Bank account, or -- and this what I intended to do, I could it to pay for website domain payments. 

This was in 2013 when a Bitcoin was still selling for about US$15 and, in hindsight, I should have bought more, but since my focus was less on investments and more on the technology, I really did not push it any further.

Moreover, sitting in India and dealing with Bitcoin was not easy. Governments were realising the immense power and potential of this new concept and were putting in mechanism to block it. Converting game currency to Bitcoins was delegalised as money laundering and the Virtual World Exchange stopped functioning. There were a few big scams and thefts including the famous Mt.Gox robbery. Incidentally, I had opened an account on the Mt. Gox exchange and had undergone the rigorous KYC process and was about to transfer my pile from Blochain.info to Mt. Gox when Mt. Gox went bust. Had I transferred, I would have lost all my coins but perhaps Ma Kali intervened and slowed me down. 

Subsequently, and instead, I moved my Bitcoins to an offline paper-wallet that is kept at a very secure location. I can still sell it but as per current laws I will have to pay a very hefty capital gains and other nearly punitive taxes. I have neither the need nor the intention to sell any of these precious coins but if push comes to shove, someday, somewhere I may have to sell it. Till then, they lie safely in storage -- untouched but not forgotten.

But what about my Kali Temple in Second Life? Well it is still there and I still collect my monthly stipend of Linden Dollars. However I can no more convert them to Bitcoin so I am using them to pay my annual Second Life subscriptions which means Ma Kali is living at her temple and it is rent-free.

Thursday, April 17, 2025

06 - The Midnight Meeting : Twelve Good Men

Edward Lorenz was a mathematician and meteorologist who is credited with articulating the “butterfly effect”. In the context of Chaos Theory, he said that by flapping its wings, a butterfly in, say Borneo, can set in motion a chain of events that can cause a tornado in Texas. A similar, unseen flutter sent tremors through the consulting world in the closing years of 2001.
Enron, a US based energy company -- that also had a small footprint in Dabhol, India -- was indicted on accounting fraud along with its auditor, Arthur Anderson, who were also delivering other, non-audit, consulting services to the company. The resultant upheaval led to the Sarbanes Oxley Act that in effect debarred audit companies from offering non-audit services to the same client. This was a big blow to all consulting companies and especially so to the so-called Big 4 of which PwC was one. All these companies had a strong technology business based that, though rooted in  original audit relationships, was far bigger and more profitable than the audit business. In essence, all large consulting firms were to separate their audit and non-audit businesses and in effect break up into two separate companies.

PwC in India had a very unique corporate structure in line with Indian laws and global practices. There were multiple audit companies, led by partners who were all chartered accountants. Then there was another consulting outfit, a private limited company,  led by executive directors who were not not chartered accountants. However the pool of partners and executive directors were all collectively referred to as partners of the PwC as all of them had a financial stake in the enterprise. The profits ( and losses, which were never there) were shared among this entire pool in ratios that were calculated based on the seniority in the “partnership” and certain result based parameters. Clients were delivered services from the company that had the required competence and payments were pooled into a “common” kitty that was expertly and honestly managed by some of the finest brains in the accounting profession. Net-net It was one big happy family — a Camelot, where King Arthur and his knights ruled with justice and integrity..

The collapse of Enron in distant Houston, was the butterfly that flapped its wings and caused a tornado in the PwC India Camelot.

Even though PwC India had no equity participation from PwC US or any other entity impacted by the Sarbanes Oxley Act, it was still a member of the PwC global network, as were all other member firms in every country. Since PwC US was the dominant partner in this network, all other firms had to do what PwC US was doing; break up the auditing and consulting arms from each other. In India, this was like a breakup of a joint family and since the days of the Mahabharat, this has never been a very cordial or pleasant exercise. Just as the lure of the Holy Grail led to the breakup of the Round Table, so did the lure of picking up the spoils from this rupture led to the break up of all cordiality in the PwC family.

All across the world, elaborate plans had to be made for the separation of assets and people, and these were presented in, what else but, Powerpoint slides. In all these slides, the audit function and its assets was shown on the Left Hand Side (LHS) and the to-be-broken-away consulting function was shown on the Right Hand Side (RHS). This became the standard nomenclature while discussing the separation event.

In India, the RHS partners were led by Anjan Mukerji, Sharat Bansal, Amitabh Ray and consisted of D Ashok, Susheela Venkatmaraman, Ravi Trivedy, Shovon Mukherjee, Arvind Mahajan, Anjan Majumdar, Suman Mazumdar, Ramesh Srinivas and me. There was a thirteenth person whose name I will not mention here for reasons that will become clear later on.

The LHS partners were led by two industry stalwarts, but strangely enough included four consulting partners, including the consulting leader and three of his ultra loyal followers. These four should  logically  have been in the RHS, but they moved across to  the LHS because the LHS had covert plans of restarting the highly profitable consulting businesses with this coterie.

Globally, there was a plan to create a genuine MNC listed in the US Stock Exchange that would acquire all the RHS assets, all across the world and all RHS partners were required to join this company. But they would not be partners any more but employees. However,  they would be given a stake in the new firm in the form of stock options and restricted stock units, or equivalent instruments in compliance with local laws. The LHS partners would have to sell their equity entitlement in the new firm for cash raised through an IPO. This would mean that PwC India -- or rather its different constituents -- would continue as a pure audit firm as a partnership of the LHS partners as per Indian Law, while the consulting business from which the LHS partners would cashed out,  would move  -- with its assets, people, partners and clients --  into a global MNC headquartered in the US and operating under US company law.

For us on the RHS side, this seemed like a fair deal but the LHS partnership had other other ideas. Since the LHS partners were senior in rank and were dealing with the US partners, they floated the idea that (a) the RHS partners were not happy with this arrangement and that (b) the preferred alternative was to form a private limited company registered, not in the US, but in India.  Once again the LHS India partners would be compensated in cash while the RHS India partners would only be given shares in the new India registered company.

For the LHS this arrangement would have been very lucrative. First the valuation of a consulting company in the Indian market would be far higher than a similar company in the global market, so the local cash out for the LHS would be far higher than a proportionate cash out from a global IPO. Secondly the covert consulting operation would eventually emerge and grow because it would be part of, and be subsidised by, the global PwC LHS network. Third, the local consulting company run by RHS India would not be able to compete with the LHS operations because it would neither have a brand or network nor would it entrenched audit relationships that the LHS would have retained. And if in the process the twelve RHS partners perished, then so be it. Who cares?

This offer from the LHS to the Global PwC leadership was done without the consent or concurrence of the RHS partner but once this information got leaked, the RHS swung into action. First, Amitabh Ray called a secret meeting of the twelve RHS partners, excluding the 13th, late in the night in the Oberoi Hotel in Calcutta. So secret was the meeting that air-tickets for the non Calcutta RHS partners were not purchased through regular PwC India travel booking channels but by Amitabh Ray’s personal secretary. 

In the Oberoi, that night, the twelve partners met for the first time and decided on the course of action. First, it was decided that we would go along with the original global plan and become a part of the new US based MNC. Once this was agreed upon, Amitabh made a phone call to Dave Lewis? ( or Luis, the exact name escapes me ) the Global PwC partner who was handling India matters and conveyed the desire of the India RHS to join up with the global RHS. This person was astounded that the India LHS had communicated a completely different picture and this was causing considerable difficulty in the global operations. 

However, he suggested that there had to be a formal meeting involving more members of the global partnership and this had to be done without the India LHS being aware of it.

Next week, a conference call was arranged where all non-Calcutta RHS partners joined from the privacy of their respective offices but the Calcutta RHS assembled in Amitabh’s office in the X1-7 building. But since a  number of LHS partners were in the same or adjacent building,  we had to make sure that they did not drop in and learn about the rebellion. For this purpose, Amitabh stationed two of his trusted lieutenants, Partha Chakraborty and one more, at the door to alert us if any LHS partner -- or even the 13th RHS partner -- was headed towards the room.

This meeting was  attended by the General Counsel ( or Chief Legal Officer) of PwC US, and it was communicated to him in no uncertain terms India RHS was fully in agreement with what PwC US had planned and they would enthusiastically join the new US registered company that would be formed.

At this meeting, we informed PwC Global that in India, some consulting partners had  decided to stay in the LHS and what was worse, they had also decided that some key managers would also be retained in LHS. This would have crippled the operational readiness of the RHS even more. On hearing this the global leadership immediately decided this was illegal and announced  that all managers and staff in the consulting practice would be given the option of freely choosing to join either LHS or the RHS.

Once this news of the rebellion got around, the LHS was furious. Not only were their plans thwarted but their dreams of exiting at very high valuations with easy and abundant cash came to a grinding halt. Moreover, when given a choice,  an overwhelming majority of consulting staff decided to join RHS thus showing how deeply unpopular the four LHS partners were.

This is when the bitter internecine warfare came to the surface. When personal interests are threatened, all collegiality vanishes and Camelot collapses. Fangs were bared  and the gloves came off.  RHS assets were illegally carted off and RHS partners were threatened with personal lawsuits that could result in time spent in jail. Personal insults were hurled by the LHS against RHS partners.  These were things that I could perhaps forgive, but never forget. However, thanks to the steady and unwavering leadership of Anjan Mukherji, Amitabh Ray and Sharat Bansal, the RHS circled its wagons, stood shoulder to shoulder,  firmly holding ground and waiting for the US cavalry to arrive and save them from the vengeance and wrath of the LHS.

Meanwhile in the US, the cavalry was getting into position! Sometime in the middle of the year 2002, a new company called Monday was registered in the US. This  would acquire all RHS entities -- along with their assets, people and clients -- across the world. We were also told that Monday would go for an IPO in the US stock market “soon” and with this money the LHS partners would be paid off.

But just before the IPO, sometime in September,  Greg Brennerman joined Monday as CEO  and in one week, Brennerman did what many PwC US partners could not do -- he found a buyer, IBM,  for this new company, Monday, that now carried the assets of all RHS entities. We had a global teleconference where Brennerman explained how the sale to IBM was better than an IPO and also what all contracts we would need to sign for the deal could go through. We all agreed to this sale and signed a lot of personal level contracts with IBM. Monday, the independent company, would now be a part of IBM as IBM Consulting.

But even as this end game was being played out globally, the last few weeks of September were a nightmare for the RHS in India. With the LHS partners engaging in massive asset stripping, the RHS company was on its last financial legs. One particularly heinous piece of skullduggery was asking one of the RHS clients, the notoriously corrupt Bangladesh Power Development Board, to invoke bank guarantees that the RHS company had given, which left us with a huge hole in our cash holdings. While we had clients and people, there was no cash to pay salaries in October.

Anjan Mukherjee, called one last and desperate meeting of RHS partners where he requested each of the 12 RHS partners to write a cheque each -- depending on their shareholding in the company -- so that the first salary payment of the new company would not fail. These were really hefty cheques and we were told to liquidate assets if necessary to ensure that these cheques would  be honoured. Fortunately,  these cheques were never presented, let alone being cashed!

Because …

On the last day of September 2002, and it was a Monday,  the word officially came through that IBM, the knight in shining armour, had finally completed the process of acquiring the entire stakes in all RHS companies  all across the world. Along with all assets they were also acquiring all liabilities and so the critical October 2002 salaries would be paid out of IBM’s bottomless global resources. Our cheques were safe.

Hurrah! We were through, we had survived! As Neil Armstrong had said on touching down on the moon, “Tranquility Base Here, The Eagle Has Landed.”

While I do not have enough information about the LHS, we believe that they came off quite badly in this game. The RHS got much more money than the LHS and what was worse was that the value of all the assets that they had illegally stripped off from the RHS was deducted from what IBM finally paid to them as their dues.  For all their bluff and bluster that they had deployed against the relatively junior RHS partners, the LHS never had the wherewithal or the backbone to stand up to the phalanx of IBM lawyers and accountants who descended on PwC India to finally seal the deal.

But  who was the 13th partner who was not invited to the Oberoi meeting? And why? I checked with Amitabh. He told me that he had a gut feeling that #13 never wanted to join the RHS and would like to go back to the LHS, which is what he eventually did. Not as a partner but as an ordinary manager. Why did he do so? Well, we shall let bygones be bygones. Everyone has their own reason.

I still have many happy memories of the partnership at PwC but all good things must come to an end and this was the end of our Camelot.  But had it not been for that midnight meeting at the Oberoi, the end could have been truly tragic instead of the magic that saw all of us, the RHS partners, being welcomed as Band D executives in IBM.

Friday, April 11, 2025

03 - Tech Support | Morse at Malanjkhand

This would be in the winter of 1995 or early 1996, when I was the Product Manager for the DB2 Database product. At the time, DB2 -- along with other IBM hardware and software -- was sold and supported in India by Tata Information Systems Ltd (TISL), a joint venture between IBM and Tata Sons. IBM had been kicked out of India in 1977, alongside Coca-Cola, for failing to comply with FERA regulations. Now, nearly two decades later, the company was back -- in this new avatar. Two key people made this happen: Venky Raman and Dan Gupta. It was Venky who recruited me into TISL after I left Tata Steel, knowing I was perhaps the only person in India with deep DB2 expertise.

Though my role was national and even pan-ASEAN in scope, I worked out of the modest IBM office on Harrington Street (now Ho Chi Minh Sarani), right across from the US Consulate in Calcutta. Still, I spent most of my time traveling across India and Southeast Asia, supporting customers in a mix of technical firefighting and evangelism.

One of our early customers for IBM RISC systems -- the RS/6000 running AIX (IBM’s Unix) -- was Hindustan Copper. Alongside the hardware, they had also purchased the DB2/6000 relational database. The installations were spread across Ghatsila (Bihar, now Jharkhand), Khetri (Rajasthan), and Malanjkhand (Madhya Pradesh). Hardware and software had been shipped from IBM HQ in Bangalore and commissioned by their staff -- but nothing worked quite as expected. That’s when our team from the Calcutta office was dispatched to make things right.

Now you might wonder -- what’s the big deal? Hardware-software problem? Google the solution, or post on Stack Overflow, and someone will help. But this was 1995. The internet was a toy in the hands of a privileged few. Email was unheard of in most offices. Fax and telephone were our only means of “rapid” communication. And IBM Calcutta had neither email nor access to IBM’s global systems -- only IBM Bangalore did.

Malanjkhand, to make matters worse, had just one telephone line. One. And it was typically down about 200 days a year. Why? Well, just look at the map. Malanjkhand is about five hours by road from either Jabalpur (MP) or Nagpur (Maharashtra), nestled at the edge of the Kanha Reserve Forest -- prime tiger territory. So remote was the place that during monsoon, the bridge to town had collapsed, and IBM hardware had to be hand-carried across a flooded river -- boxes on backs -- to the installation site.

That’s where we were headed, Debanjan Mukherjee from the RS/6000 AIX team and myself from DB2/6000, tasked with making sure that COBOL programs could run using data from DB2.

The plan was simple: fly to Nagpur on Monday morning, take a beat-up Ambassador taxi to Malanjkhand, and reach by evening. Tuesday to Friday would be for solving the problem. Saturday, we’d travel to Jabalpur to catch a flight back to Calcutta. Given the remoteness, our Bangalore support team advised us to carry an “image” of a working system on tape -- a last resort in case all else failed. We backed up a full image from Canara Bank in Dalhousie Square -- yes, including all their data! Privacy wasn’t exactly a hot topic in Calcutta’s tech circles back then.

We arrived in Malanjkhand to a warm welcome from the local HCL IT team. For them, having IBM engineers visit was a badge of honour. Honestly, whether the system worked or not didn’t bother them -- manual processes still ran the show, and copper continued to flow from mine to smelter. That Monday evening, we were shown to the guest house. No work. Just rest.

Tuesday morning, we rolled up our sleeves and got to work. We wiped the system and reinstalled everything from scratch. All was smooth -- until we tried to run the demo COBOL programs. And then -- disaster. An ugly error message. No problem, we thought -- check the System Maintenance Manual. And sure enough, there it was -- the error message, along with the solution: Please contact the IBM support engineer.

Which would have been helpful, except that we were the IBM support engineers. And we had no clue.

Do we restore the Canara Bank image and hope for the best? We decided to hold off on that nuclear option. Instead, we tried something else.

I copied the entire error message by hand and cycled to the radio hut, about a mile from the computer centre. From there, the message was sent in Morse code to HCL HQ in Calcutta. I had already alerted our Admin Head at IBM Calcutta to expect something. He checked in with HCL HQ regularly, and once the message was received, he dispatched a peon to collect it and fax it to IBM Bangalore -- the only office connected to the global IBM support network.

That evening, the two HCL IT Managers visited us at the guest house. I can’t recall if there was liquor, but I do remember them grilling us about our salaries, perks, and urban lifestyle. Then they gave a long speech about how their life -- with free housing, cheap food, pension, and free medical facilities -- was actually better. “You may think city life is great, but in the end, we come out ahead,” they said with quiet pride.

With no answer expected for 24 hours, Wednesday was ours. Debanjan and I went on a tiger safari at dawn -- the rising sun, the mist over the grass, deer, gaur, buffalo… and let’s imagine, for the story’s sake, that we spotted a tiger too. In the afternoon, we joined a cricket match between two HCL teams -- each of us drafted into rival sides. I don’t remember who won, but we had a great time.

Meanwhile, somewhere deep in IBM’s support channels, someone cracked our problem. By late Wednesday, the solution reached IBM Bangalore. And from there began the reverse relay: fax to IBM Calcutta, hand-carried to HCL HQ, transmitted by Morse code back to Malanjkhand, transcribed and delivered by peon to us by Thursday morning.

And yes -- the fix worked.

There was jubilation in the computer department. The IT Manager beamed and congratulated us. With two more days to go and no option to change our flights, I offered to conduct a few training sessions. Debanjan taught a short course on AIX system administration, and I ran a DB2/SQL basics workshop. It turned into a rather pleasant Thursday.

But we were wary. What if another issue cropped up? So we decided to leave on Friday itself, taking a local taxi out to a nearby town -- the name escapes me -- where we’d catch a train to Jabalpur the next morning. We didn’t wait for our Saturday car from Jabalpur. We just wanted to get out -- mission accomplished.

The town was small, the hotel even smaller. Rooms were Rs. 100 a night, with a Rs. 30 “upgrade” for a black-and-white TV. We tried to buy some liquor to celebrate, but no luck -- no liquor stores nearby, and we had no vehicle. Still, we slept well. Saturday was an uneventful train to Jabalpur and then an Indian Airlines flight back to Calcutta.

We never heard from HCL again. Which either means the system worked perfectly -- or, more likely, they never actually used the machine their management had paid for.