And the Champions Trophy goes to ….....

VMS (Victoria Memorial School for Blind)

It was a great show by all the schools but our kids left everybody behind.

Participating first time in TCS Maitree Inter-school-meet of 8 schools, our students from VMS emerged as the champions. Event started from General Quiz (for which I & Riddhi had mentored the students). We got the initial setback when we’re told that, because of some confusion, organizers had put a Visual round in the quiz. We had no option but to live with that. Despite of this, VMS whiz-kids (Rahul, Hemant, Vishal, Shamsher, Chandrakant) led the way till the Visual round, which was obviously not that scoring for them as the earlier rounds.  But after that they again got into flow and all, especially Hemant, were outstanding. Hemant even surprisingly gave the answer to a question related to 'Refractive Index' which I had explained to him one week ago.

It was followed by several other events such as skit (we were third), Ad-mad show (we got second), ‘Best out of waste’, Elocution (we got first in junior category) and many more. But the real show was ‘Solo Singing’. We were confident of putting a great show. And boys exceeded all the expectations. With the help of kids on the instruments (Ratan, Pawan and others), ‘Ashish’, ‘Amit’, ‘Akash’ and ‘Sumit’ put audience on the roll dancing across the auditorium. And no doubt we finished at the top of the podium. Following this, ‘Group Singing’ was no less great and students repeated the performance.

We were confident that our kids will perform great but finishing at the top was not expected. Our Visually disabled Kids proved that when god makes a mistake and doesn’t give you what you need most, it compensates by giving you those abilities which makes you special in all other aspects. 

Although, I had to leave the venue before the closing ceremony, but getting SMS from Priyanka and Sreenish (fellow volunteers) and than a call from Vishal (VMS kid) made me visualize this : 
"At the end of the event, all of us (Team VMS) had tears in our eyes; we were overwhelmed by the joy and happiness given to us by those kids.  Once again, we are proud of being part of this great initiative."

Are our premier institutes producing good citizens?

Recently I was having a casual discussion with one of my close friends. During the discussion she mentioned a story of one of her female colleagues who had just got married. Generally, I don’t show much interest in family gossips but this was much more than a simple story of a husband and wife. It was an example of the irony this modern India has and that is education from premier institutes doesn’t ensure that the person would have good values and courage to stand against wrong things in our society.

This lady, let’s call her Radhika, has been very fun loving, happy go-lucky lady through-out her life and always believed to live her up to the fullest, currently working with the largest IT Company of Asia.

Like most of the parents in India, parents of Radhika, from a middle class family in a backward state of the India, had dreamt of marrying their daughter to an IIT+IIM (Indian Institute of Technology + Indian Institute of Management) graduate. They left no stone unturned and ultimately found the right family; at least they thought so, for their daughter. Like any other obedient girl, Radhika also agrees to parents wish and soon gets married to the chosen IIT+IIM grad.

Like any other bride, Radhika also had few dreams after marriage. She might have also wished for a loving husband, who would respect her, her feelings and her work. As in India, marriages don’t happen between a groom and a bride but happens between their families, she might have also expected that her new family would accept her with open arms and give her the respect that she deserves.

But here, expectations don’t meet the reality. Today, her husband, lost in his arrogance of being from IIT+IIM, doesn’t even respect that his wife has an individual identity, that she works, and that she might also have some aspirations. No doubt that she earns much lesser than what her husband earns, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t deserve the appropriate respect. Her husband and in-laws, who earlier wanted a well-educated and working girl, don’t want her to work anymore. In fact, they make fun of her work and salary.

As much I could visualize, Radhika has been trying a lot to keep herself happy and get adapted to this new culture but all has been in vain till now. Despite being a well educated, working girl, she hears taunts and what not from her mother-in-law and sister-in-law (an IIM grad herself).

Hearing this story, when I start feeling suffocated, I can’t even imagine how this lady is handling the situation. Indians have been very proud of our premier institutions but are we doing anything to impart right values in the kids that graduate from those schools. At least this story doesn’t talk positive about that. We need to think what kind of education we are providing to next generations not only in IIT, IIM or other schools but also in our families.

Are we producing future leaders, risk takers and people who respect each and every individual regardless of their social status?

Life for me is.......

You don't need to see to sing.......

This guy (Amit Jadhav, Victoria Memorial School for Blinds) is so passionate about singing. I love his voice and pitch modulation. Even other one (Akash) is equally good singer.

How to build a competent offshore team?

A typical project life cycle:

Inception   ->   Team Building   ->   Manpower Deployment   ->   Execution   ->   Deliveries of Products / Features

So we start a project, select few candidates who could build a team and competencies and then come to location distribution. My focus of this blog post is this third part and how this should be handled to continuous team building and smooth deliveries.

At the inception of the project, we get people who soon become the back-bone of the team and who ensure the critical deliveries of products and features happen on time. Soon as business demands, few people are dispatched to client locations (in IT we call it Onsite). This is the first step of “Manpower Deployment”. Over the time, people at client location get more exposure to real world business and become SMEs (Subject Matter Experts) and also those whom client trusts most. So far so good.

Now the real problem starts. As the project grows, team grows; new people join at remote delivery centers (we call it Offshore). Now these people are new, neither they have ever interacted with this client nor they have got actual exposure to the client systems. Dependency on On-site team increases and soon offshore team becomes a step child of project management team. Management wants to make offshore team equally capable of producing results as the onsite team is but they forget one critical aspect of human behavior. They forget that offshore team has never got the feeling of actual business and they couldn’t care less about that.

In this situation what should be the first step of Management. I strongly opine that it should be the knowledge transfer. They should ensure free flow of knowledge across the shores. Please note, this should not only be limited to phone calls but it should also include in-person visits.

The best way of this is the temporary rotation of people who work at client site and asking them to work at offshore for 3-6 months before they could go back. This is very important to ensure that the culture and sincerity of client location comes to offshore and shared with the team. This also ensures that teams across the shores understand the problem (technical, operational, managerial or personal) faced at these locations and bridge the trust deficit.

So if you are also struggling to build a multi-location team, you need to ensure two-way flow of people and knowledge. Failing to do so, you are only ensuring failure of the project in near to long term.

Ran.... and still runnning....

So finally the day has arrived... practice has concluded and I am going to run my first half-marathon. Mumbai Marathon 2012 came with a big challenge and I took it by enrolling myself in the 21K version. I have been practicing twice in a week for last couple of months and ran 10K in any single session. As much I was targeting to finish the race, I wanted to finish withing 2 hrs 30 minutes. In the practice session I have been taking 70-80 minutes for 10K. So I wanted to give my best and much better than I had been giving in the practice session.

At the same time so many things are going in personal life that have also aggravated my breathing problem. For last one month, every day I have been feel so vulnerable personally that its only Mumbai Marathon that is the passion nowadays. There has been an emotional roller-coster ride in last one month and every morning I wake up, it has been only the time I am running and working out could make me feel little strong.

On the D-day, I wake up at 4 AM, get ready, pick up my running gear, Redcross Cap and TCS T-shirt with SRCC logo, and go to Railway station to board a train to the Marathon Holding Area. As I reach at Ticket Counter, I feel overwhelmed when Ticket Issuer doesn't take money and wishes me best for my run. It was a lovely feeling. As I get down train and moving towards the Holding area, I see few of the TV Actors (Raghu &; Rajiv from MTV Roadies) taking tea-sips. I walk and see the spirit of runners everywhere. Everybody seems to be so excited as I am and doing the stretching.

At 5:40, run starts and I start the journey of my life. Today I want to achieve something I have never done and I want to complete the race respectfully. Cold breezes from the sea start touching our body as we reach the 'Bandra-Worli Sea Link', such a lovely experience. When does anybody get opportunity to run here on this link? I have completed 10 K now, feet are tired, but brains are excited. As I reach 15 K, an uphill comes, I want to have a sip of water but I don't want to break the momentum as long as possible. Somehow uphill passes and I am on flat road. Now, feet are about to give up, brains are still excited, eyes are burning, body is sweating and I am at 19K. Now I have utmost need of rejuvenating myself, so instead of water, I pick up a 'Red bull' drink on the way. A refreshing area with cold moist breezes comes on the way and passing through it is so rejuvenating.

Till this time, I have no energy left; I might fall anytime if I lose control on my brains even for a minute. I set a target that I would continue till 20K mark and probably will walk for few seconds before finish line. As, now I reach there, I don't want to stop I want to finish without even stopping anywhere in complete run. But this doesn't work, my show-laces have loosened up and I have to stop to tie them at least. Ultimately I stop at 21K Mark, ties the laces, walks for a minute, before my desire to touch the finish line at the earliest makes me running. I sprint now. Applauds at the side-ways are over-whelming and wonderful. I am not able to breath, but I feel like a start as I reach the finish line.

Now when I am at home, my body is crying out loud for sleep, but I can't. My caves are swollen, my things are paining, my fingers and toes are burnt, but a feeling of accomplishing this has been able to overpower everything.

Eve-teasing at work-place? What is the solution?

Recently, I was having a conversation with one of my colleagues, a small-town girl, who doesn’t want to hurt anybody, who wants to do her own work and who doesn’t want people to think that she is arrogant just because she is beautiful. She wants to stay away from lime-light. But these are few things she hasn’t got in this society. After joining corporate world, she thought, probably she will meet more mature and professional people but unfortunately that has remained illusion for her. Although, I have heard such incidents many times, but this time I was hearing it from first person point of view.

In India, a land of suppressed feelings and low female-to-male ratio, it has been a challenge for administration at all levels to curtail the incidents of eve-teasing. Where, in places like Mumbai, girls are ready to take head-on with those road-side Romeos, a small-town girl is still scared of confronting her teasers. At many occasions, it’s even more difficult for a girl to work in an office because she finds many of her colleagues are not professionals but are X-ray machines who always try to scan her from multiple angles. She feels intimidated of confronting them. She doesn’t want to complain to HR because she understands that may end-up ruining the career of that person and she herself may become the villain in her own organization.

In corporate world, where we think that we provide a safe and relaxed environment for female employees, it is even easier for those who get involved in such teasing. This is because, in most of the offices, contact details of all employees are so easily available that no romeo needs to make any effort in getting a contact number or email address of a girl. In fact, with the excuse of some unnecessary work, these guys keep interrupting their female colleagues through online messaging software. These guys either are not aware or do not understand the gravity of the potential issue that could cost them dearly. They might not be aware about the incident, when a person who could have been the CEO of India’s second largest IT organization had to resign on similar charges.

This problem is so much imbibed in our society that to find a one solution of this is almost impossible. But as managers, at whatever level we are, we are required to ensure that we are approachable but professional with all of our colleagues. We should ensure that we ourselves do not get involved in any such activity because that would be detrimental to the project activities, organization’s culture and confidence of our female colleagues in their managers and organization in whole.

We, ourselves, should avoid calling our sub-ordinates (especially person from opposite sex) after office hours unless there is some urgent official work that requires her intervention. We should not initiate and ask any of our female colleagues for lunch/dinner out of office because she might not be able to say no but she might not like that as well and still she has to do because you are her senior. We should also avoid asking them any personal question unless she initiates the conversation because those questions might make her uncomfortable. We should only show our business towards what is required at work. You might not have any wrong intention but it’s your responsibility that you don’t give wrong impression as well.

In short, it is our highest responsibility that we walk and ensure all of our sub-ordinates are walking this thin line of professionalism very carefully. Any wrong step may ruin your image, confidence of your employees in you and the organization’s culture. We should strive to provide a safe and professional environment to all of our colleagues. It’s not only HR’s job.

Where is corruption?

"My father paid bribe for my birth certificate .I repaid the dues by bribing to get his death certificate. Is this the Independence that our forefathers sacrificed their everything for?", this is the statement I just encountered in the readers' section of an Indian newspaper.

Corruption is not there only in the government, or in the bureaucracy but its there in the blood and that blood flows in the veins of each & every Indian. There are so many occasions when we ourselves not a victim of corruption but a part of corruption. Some of them are:

- Organizing an event or party but paying the bills without any taxes

- Not getting Income Tax Refund, paid the bribe to IT officer to expedite the process

- Could not buy Train ticket because of Crowd on the counter, so paid the money to Ticket collector just to save the fines

- Planning to get the Passport, paid the bribe for police verification, to speed up the process

and many more...

So in short, corruption is not something which we can blame on others, it is in our culture, in our roots and in our veins.

Habitat For Humanity... Built and Donated two homes

I was leading the team to lay down the lawn. It was one of the unique experiences of my life.

During the time when I was working on these homes, I realized one thing that whatever is luxury in India that is a necessity in USA. We hardly have lawns at our homes in India but in USA, that we take for granted that it is a necessity. This is the difference between two largest democracies of world, one of which is a developed economy while other is still developing.

A family that got one of two homes. I could see the the happiness and satisfaction on the faces of 29 year old Mother and her 5 kids.

An Evening in Paris....Longest Journey

So I have come back from vacation. As great was the time in India, as difficult was the journey back from India to US. This time two elders, parents of my colleague in US, were also accompanying me on the journey. It was the first time when they were boarding a plan, leave going out of country aside. I had the big responsibility on my shoulders to ensure they get the best flight travel experience possible. We had a mid-journey stop at Frankfurt. Because of bad weather, in Europe, things didn’t go as planned. We were already running late and Pilot was hovering over Frankfurt seeking a possibility of landing. After an hour, and total of 12 hours since flight took off from IGI Airport Delhi, Pilot decide to fly to Paris.

That day I got to know that, according to Vienna convention, it was not possible for our flight to continue in the air beyond 14 hours. Per Vienna convention, same crew can’t continue in a flight beyond 14 hours and need 10 hour of break before resuming the service. As we landed on Charles de Gaulle (CDG) Airport in Paris, it was very certain that we were in a big trouble. Air India didn’t have any active office in Paris and there was not a remote possibility that we could fly any time sooner than in the evening that day because Frankfurt crew could not be transferred to Paris immediately.

But worst was yet to come. It was first time for me in the Paris and so was for 70% of my co-flyers. We had a cultural shock at Paris airport. We were taken to the Transit Area, no-man’s land, a place where you don’t even have water, rest-rooms, forget food. Air-India had collaboration with Air France. To my further surprise, there was no crew-member who could speak English. This was the first time I realize how important to learn foreign languages in this globalized world. All Americans and Europeans were allowed to enter the main airport. All people with Diplomat Visa were also allowed to roam around the city, and there we were, mostly Indians, struggling to get couple of water bottles. It was a tough situation to be in. We had many infants who, by now, needed more stuff than what was present there.

After 2 hour or so, when I got to know that we would not be traveling to Chicago before the evening following day, it just blew my mind. It was almost impossible for us to stay in transit area for two days. I went to Air France personnel and insisted on getting somebody who could speak English. After much time she got me a guy who could speak English, although in a strong french accent. I requested him to get me the Flight Manager of Air India. I’d got to know that even though Air India may not have a crew station in a country it must have a Flight Manager at all the major airports. After much persistence, One French lady who was wearing the Air India ID card came. I tried to get first hand information about when we would be flying to Chicago, on which she replied 6 PM the next day. This was the confirmation of more troubles that are on our ways for next 30+ hours. She quickly went away.

In the mean time, we had persuaded our French hosts to arrange few water bottles, sandwiches and milk for infants. However, unfortunately for me, there were very limited number of vegetarian sandwiches and they were off the self as they came. Although neither I nor my two dependents could get anything but water, now, I wanted to pursue Transit Visa for all of us who were there. It was again a big struggle to get to Air-India manager. She politely told me that it was not possible for her to arrange the Transit Visa for all of us, and it must have to be followed with Indian Embassy in Paris and French Government. Somehow I was able to convince her that at least we should get Visas for mothers with infants and old people above 50 years of age. She came back after one hour telling us that it is not possible to get any Visa. I requested her to connect me to Indian Embassy.

The official, in embassy, I spoke to was very polite to me. I offered to send her the pictures of the situation where infants were crying and people were struggling to get even water. She told me that she would do whatever she cold. By this time it was almost 12 hours since I was in transit area without anything in my stomach. First good news came when we got the information that we will be getting Visas for families that have infants at least. It was consoling up to some extent. Till now, my body was crying out loud for fuel and I, along with 2 co-passengers, had started pursuing the possibility of food. It was embassy and Air India Management that came to our rescue and we were given food voucher and escorted to airport shopping area and then back to the transit area. Here, once again I waited till the end to ensure each one of us gets food first. My bad luck continued and by the time I reached there, there was no vegetarian pack was available there. I came back with a Cheese cube and a water bottle.

While this was happening, I, along with few fellow passengers, was still trying to convince authorities to grant all passengers the Transit Visa. Good news came at 3 AM when we were told that all of us would be getting group visas and hotel accommodation in three groups. From the Visa authorities’ perspective, this group was like an atom, smallest indivisible entity. We needed to ensure that all in one group clear the immigration together while leaving the airport and while entering the airport next day. Any person left to do so, might get into all new legal formalities. People chose me the leader of one of the groups I was part of. Now I not only had the responsibility of 2 people who were accompanying me from Delhi, but also of 38 people in my group who were not strangers any more. We reached hotel at 4 AM.

As I had estimated that it would take approx 4 hours to complete the check-in and immigration formalities of so approx 150 passengers, we left the hotel around 12 noon next day. I conveyed the same to other group leaders in other hotels. We gathered at the airport at 1. However, there was no proper management to start the formalities for our flight. It was at 3 PM when we got the check-in started. Most of us were Indians and many of us couldn’t speak English or even Hindi, leave French aside. I and two more youngsters who could speak two other Indian languages, Tamil and Telgu, volunteered to mediate between the passengers and airline crew for Check-in formalities. Ultimately we completed all Check-in formalities by 7 PM. One crew member expressed his gratitude by telling me that it was impossible to get this done without having us as mediators. All of them thanked 3 of us for the support we provided.

So by this time our flight has already got delayed by 60 minutes. In another 1 hour, we completed all the immigration formalities as well and took off to Chicago. We reached Chicago at 4 AM and our flight to Atlanta was at 8:30, so our wait continued was much of the struggle was over. It took almost three days to reach Atlanta from Delhi.

This was one of those experiences that would live with me throughout my life.

First hand account from Mumbai

This is the mail, I got from one of my friends who was there, with her friend, in Cafe Leopard at the time Mumbai Massacre. When they were trying to save themselves from the blind gunshots, they found themselves in Hotel Taj. Here they tell what happened there, & how they could survive & manage to return back to their home.

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(from Dara, a young architect on vacation, and a former roommate of my girlfriend as well as Bassam)

mumbai: my story and how i survived.

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Today at 5:50am

Thanks to all of those who wrote me notes and posted on my wall. i just wanted to take a moment to pay respects to those who lost their lives to save us. I am praying for the hotel staff, police, and other reinforcements that were brought into Mumbai that deadly night that should have never occurred.

The horrific acts that happened in Mumbai was a life altering experience for me and something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Around 9:40 pm I went to the night market with my friend John.

As the store were closing we were excited to take a drink in the famous cafe, Leopolds- A small cafe that opens up completely to the street. After finishing a tall glass of watermelon juice there was a huge boom that hit an aquarium in the back of the room.

Everyone turned around simply think 'what was that?' but not expecting anything serious. The next thing I knew consecutive shots rang non-stop across the room. John threw me to the floor screaming "GET DOWN!" My purse was in the seat next to me, but I didn't even think for a second about it. I was bent over trying to run out. John pushed me to the floor again. I believed he saved my life. I still don't understand how I made it out when I later read there were two gunmen walking in with large guns. There was glass in my hands, the skin on my knees were rubbed off from hitting the floor- yet I couldn't feel the pain. My heart and adrenaline were so high I was just thinking "this IS NOT really happening to me". I never thought in a million years that I would ever be involved in a situation such as the ones I had read in the news. All I remember that night is running as fast as I could because I was convinced they would bomb the café. As I picked myself up off the glass shards on the floor I bolted down the road, my left hand dripping in blood. My shoes fell off, but I didn't care, I just kept running. John was right behind me, as he got closer he took my hand and said 'Don't ever let go of my hand'. I remember my way back to the hotel we had checked in at 9 hours before- The Taj Palace. It was only 3-4 minutes before we got to the hotel. John stopped and said "No! the Taj will be a target for sure!" but there we were, his pants splattered with someone else's blood, my hand dripping in my own. We had no other place to go. We didn't know the city yet, and we needed help. For it felt like the most secure place since we only had

half a second to make a move.

I walked through a line of cab drivers who stood there in confusion on the bullets they had heard just down the streets. All the doormen and guests turned to stare at john and I who came storming in with blood on our hands. The guests dressed in the fine evening wear stood at the glass lobby entrance, staring out in curiosity about the gun shots.They sounded like a string of fireworks going off. They were shocked when they saw us pace in. The Taj staff was continuously wonderful. The minute I entered the lobby, a man sat quickly took us to the couches in the lobby, sat me down and had someone run to grab a towel.

As soon he came back to wipe my leg, the all too familiar sound of gun shots came back into the lobby. I was so terrified I never even turned around to look at them, b ut was later told that they were men dressed in black with large guns shooting everyone in site. All I knew is that as soon as I heard those shots again I dove for the closed double doors on my right side. The men who were helping me did too. It was just an instinct we all just ran as fast as we could to the doors- I didn't even know where they led to. This all happened in literally seconds. It was a restaurant. There were still guests dining at the table with looks of confusion. We dashed through the restaurant looking for any door to run through-quite certain that somebody would follow us. We ran straight into the Kitchen. Stopped at the dead end. There was one exit door in the back that somebody had locked. I didn't have time for tears. I was set on survival.

The hotel staff was amazing!-especially one man in particular named Javed. He told everyone to stay calm, we were safe, the doors were locked. We didn't believe him. We knew they had guns and could burst in at any moment if they wanted to. There was an Indian girl next to me who was crying hysterically because she had separated from her friend and mother in the lobby. There was a Muslim women on the floor praying for her life. John and I, both Christian, knelt down beside her and repeated the Lord's prayer over and over again. The Hindu women with us were also praying. There in the kitchen three separate religions prayed for the same thing. Asking God to spare our lives. Although the room was filled with chefs, hotel staff, guests of different nationalities, different social classes, different religious backgrounds- absolutely NOTHING separated us that night. We were all the same. We were all holding one and others arms saying "it is going to be okay, the police will be here soon." The hotel staff was on the phone calling for reinforcement. Meanwhile, Javed came back with a first aid kit and continued to dress John and mine's wounds. As he was cleaning them the hotel staff came back to tell us that it would be safer if we came back into the restaurant because they had blocked the doors. We were scared if it was safe or not, but proceeded to the restaurant because we did not want to be in the kitchen alone. There was a large grand piano pushed against the doors and furniture piled up on top of it.

The rest of the story is written by John: ....30 others were already in there, and after our entry, they barricaded the doors with a grand piano. What followed, for us, was eight hours of entrapment, while guns, bombs and most terrifyingly an ever louder fire raged outside.

I am amazed at how lucid we were throughout the ordeal. Our bodies provide us with incredible clarity in a crisis. I kept thinking of Winston Churchill's quote, "When you're going through hell… keep going". Still, we were terrified. Stupidly, I persuaded Dara not to call her par ents. Thinking of my own mother, I thought she might have a heart attack if she knew what was happening. I wish I hadn't done this. Everyone else was on their cell phone.

The people in our room made the scene feel like a movie set: covered Islamic women, a hard focused German businessman, a tender hearted French, obnoxious hipsters, lithe and immaculately dressed blonde Russian girls, Indians, Muslims, Christians. Everyone of all religions were praying together that night on the floor of that restaurant.

Our first evacuation attempt, around 3 or 4 am, ended in more gunfire, and the few who had ventured out of the room, raced back in. Miraculously, we were evacuated around 7am.

It wasn't until I learned the news of what had happened, until I digested my own relief that I began to cry. I read about the deaths of the chief of police, the chief of counter-terrorism, the burned wife and children of the hotel manager, and I began to weep. I thought of the incredible and admirable bravery, presence and commitment of the Taj staff. And I thought of all these people, big and small, that had given so much to save us. I still cry when I think of it.

The journey home to was another adventure. We didn't know if it the attack was a one off event or the start of war, and we hurried to exit the country. Terrified, we waited 25 minutes to be let into the US embassy, while they checked their computers for our reco rds. Even though we had called three times to report we were coming and they had our names. It would have been a good tip for them to actually pre-print the identification of all of the Americans who had called in to state their names. As cars drove by the street in front of the embassy, I felt like I was sitting on top of a bull's eye. The guards did not speak English. The reception was staffed by an Indian, who would not come to the gate. We crouched behind a concrete piling, and I scanned the horizon for potential terrorists. When we were finally let in, an Indian woman told me I would need to pay $200 to get an emergency passport.. How did they know if we even had money? Dara lost her money, credit cards and even shoes in the attack at Leopold's. Luckily I had one credit card in my pocket.

Despite having only one other couple in their office, we waited two and a half hours for emergency passports. We were hoping to leave before sunset. We appreciated the fact that the embassy was working around the clock, and they explained that we waited almost three hours because they were busy answering the phones, but I felt that they were more helpful on the phone telling us to "stay calm" then actually helping us in person when we actually really needed it.

Before we arrived to the US embassy, the Taj staff at the evacuation center had taken photos on a digital camera and printed six passport sized pho tos for us. The embassy said the photos were not acceptable – they were not professionally taken. They told me that because they had no camera man, and I would need to go back into Mumbai to find a photo center. Everything in the city was closed. I was flabbergasted. The British embassy had sent emissaries to the evacuation center, the Spanish had arranged military transport for evacuation, and here, wearing ripped and bloody clothes, the US embassy was telling me I couldn't have an emergency passport because the quality of my photographs were not professionally taken. We screamed at them, and they acquiesced. I was further surprised to lean that we had to obtain a new visa from the Indian government to leave the country. The only place to obtain this was the South Mumbai police headquarters, which had also been attacked. The US embassy tried and failed to waive this rule. We had to go..

Remarkably, heroically, the driver the Taj hotel had provided us, Jabraj, had patiently waited for us during the 2+ hour delay at the US embassy. The embassy was kind enough to lend us one of our staff to help us find the Indian visa office, and so an extremely brave Indian woman nicknamed 'Nicky' went along. As we drove back into Colaba, the streets filled with police and army personnel. We found the visa office, and pulled in, but had to back up the car, as they were hauling out a dead body. When we got into the police station,20it was amazing how quick the Indians acting in getting our paper work done in less than five minutes!

Eventually we made it out of the country. I have seen in the press criticism of the hotel, of the Indian government and of their police, but I cannot sing their praises loudly enough. Their courage is inspiring. We mourn the horrendous loss of life. For those of us who survived, how will we ever repay this debt?

I am praying for guidance on what to do now, on how I can help. I am praying for the families of the deceased, and I am praying for the leaders of India. Violence cannot be defeated with violence, and an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.

If anyone has any information on how we can help India please contact me and others around the world to pitch in. Additionally, I hope that this news will allow our government gain insight from the situation- even if it is as simple as having a Polaroid camera on site or training techniques to better prepare US embassies around the world for the future.

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