Canning College: The Lucknow University Years

I did a B.Com from Lucknow University. The three years I spent there were quite memorable, though I now regret not having paid enough attention to my academics

In an earlier post, I wrote about Christian College, from where I completed the last two years of my schooling. After class 12 was done and dusted with, I decided to do a B.Com from Canning College, Lucknow University. The story continues here.

Getting admission into Canning College, Lucknow University was much simpler back in 1990, than it is now. There was no written test, for one. From what I remember, all I had to do was fill a form, attach copies of my class 12 marksheet, submit that form in the admin office and that was it – I was in. A bunch of my friends from Christian College had also secured admission – we’d all now be spending three years studying economics, accountancy and banking etc., and hopefully get a graduate degree in commerce at the end of those years. Looking back, I now realise I had no interest in – and no particular aptitude for – commerce. Why I opted for B.Com is now a mystery to me, but lack of other options must have been one of the reasons. In terms of general awareness and the existence of dozens of different career options, as well streams of study that one can opt for, 1990 may as well have been another planet when compared to 2024.

Lucknow Christian Inter College: My Last Two Years in School

Lucknow Christian Inter College, where I studied for two years

In an earlier post, I wrote about my school days in Lucknow – the first 12 years, two of which were spent at Mount Carmel, and the remaining 10 at St. Francis College. After completing class 10 from St. Francis, it was time for to move on, since I had opted to study commerce in class 11 and 12, and SFC did not have that option. The story continues here.

Along with a small group of my friends from SFC, all of whom had also chosen commerce, I got an admission into Lucknow Christian Inter College for my final two years in school. Established in 1862, Christian College is one of the oldest education institutions in Lucknow and is situated in Qaisar Bagh, a mere 3km from the historic Bada Imambara. Inside the sprawling old campus, there are multiple buildings that have apparently been constructed at different times over the last 100-125 years. It’s a grand old place that had a slight air of decay, a whiff of neglect, about it in the late-1980s. It may have been spruced up these days, though I wouldn’t know about it since I haven’t been inside the campus after 1990.

St Francis College: My School Days in Lucknow

A video of St. Francis College, in Lucknow, where I studied for 10 years
Video copyright: St. Francis College

In an earlier post, I had shared some of my earliest memories of Lucknow, my hometown. In a follow-up to that, here are some memories of my school days - of the time I spent in Mount Carmel and then in St. Francis College.

When I was born, in 1973, my parents used to live with my grandfather in his very large, old house in the quiet residential locality of Mahanagar. There were no apartment complexes back then – Mahanagar was lined with stately old homes, most of them having been built in the early-1950s. My father’s younger brother also used to live in the same house. However, by the time my sister and I were born, each family had started feeling the need for more space, and my parents moved out. A Punjabi family, whose house was a 5-6 minute walk from my grandfather’s house, were looking to rent out their first floor, which comprised a living room, one bedroom, one bathroom, a balcony at the front, a large open courtyard and an open backyard. My father spoke to the owner – a kindly old gentleman, Mr Batra – who agreed to give the place to us at a monthly rent of Rs 350. This was towards the end of 1976. No rent agreement was signed, no police verification – just a verbal agreement between my father and Mr Batra, and we moved in. My father used to work with the ICI Group in those days, and his office was also just a 5-minute walk from Mr Batra’s house.

TechTree: The Next Chapter

In the early-2000s, I was very into working out with weights, hence the posters you see on the walls in my apartment in Raval Tower, CBD Belapur

In an earlier post, I wrote about joining ITNation, where George and I started TechTree, an all-new tech website that featured hardware and software reviews, along with technology news and features. The story continues here.

While TechTree was essentially a small startup, there wasn’t a great deal of pressure on the editorial team to produce more and more content every minute of the day. The team did a reasonable number of articles every week and we prioritized quality over sheer quantity. In the evening, George and I were often among the last 5-6 people to leave office. Sometimes, we left together and walked down to Marine Drive, which was barely five minutes away from our office. We’d stroll down Marine Drive, talking about work and our lives, often stopping to buy sookha bhel from one of the streetside vendors there. George had an interesting perspective on most things – not just technology or tech journalism – and I enjoyed spending time with him. Sometimes, we’d stop for a cup of coffee at one of the fancy cafes nearby and watched the world go by. George, who lived in Mahim, would then catch a local train to go back home, while I carried on to VT and got on a train to Belapur.

TechTree: By George!

That's me in the TechTree office in Nariman Point, back in 2002. ITNation was a great place to work at and while I was there for less than a year, that time was quite memorable

In an earlier post, I wrote about having submitted my resignation at Indian Auto. With nothing to do, zero earnings and meagre savings, while still paying rent for my apartment (along with other regular monthly expenses), I wasn’t exactly in a very comfortable position. Had been writing to and calling up some people whom I knew, but nothing came of it. After a few weeks, I started getting a bit worried – if I did not get work, I might even have to leave Bombay and go back to Lucknow, and I really, really did not want things to come to that. But then I got a phone call, which helped put thing back on track. The story continues here.

One Sunday morning, about six weeks after I had left Indian Auto, I got a call from GV Sreekumar, a good friend and a professor at IDC, IIT Bombay. GV and I had earlier worked together at CHIP, where he headed the design team. After moving on from CHIP, I had gone to CNET India, while GV went to IDC, a prestigious design college which is a part of IIT Bombay. With a deep interest in typography and great love for high-end Apple computers, GV is a genial, soft-spoken gentleman and we got along very well when we were at CHIP. Both of us lived in New Bombay back then, and we sometimes used to meet up at a bar in Nerul for our favourite Old Monk rum with Coke and lots of ice.

Pixels Multimedia: End of Days

Sometimes, life can take you down a path you never thought you'd ever walk 

In an earlier post, I wrote about how things had started going downhill at Pixels, team members had left and I was on my own. I was also on the verge of having to move Pixels out of the Sahara Bazar location, which had proven to be expensive and where the lack of footfalls had stopped the business from growing. The story continues here.

My father had been able to speak to his bosses and eventually got a transfer to Lucknow. He was actually doing very well in Bareilly and both he and my mother were quite happy there. However, he got the transfer in order to help me out and to ensure that we could all be together in one house. We rented a house in Aliganj, where I would have the largest room in the house – the drawing-cum-dining room – from where I could continue to run Pixels Multimedia in its new, diminished avatar.

Big Changes Happen at Pixels

Pixels Multimedia would ultimately move from Sahara Bazar, in Gomti Nagar, to a large house that we took up on rent in Aliganj. Here is a small animated clip of our new setup in Aliganj, which I made in Corel Motion 3D

In an earlier post, I wrote about experiencing the great kindness that was extended to me, for which I remain eternally grateful. When I was asked to vacate the house I was living in, my friend Shobhit immediately offered to let me stay in one of the two houses that his family owned in Lalbagh, and even refused to let me pay rent. When I had to sell my old motorcycle because it had become unreliable, my Tau ji gave me money to buy a new motorcycle. But in the meanwhile, there was trouble brewing at Pixels – there were issues that I would have to address immediately and some changes that I would have to deal with. The story continues here.

When I reached office that day, Tabrez was already there – he had reached there before me, which was slightly unusual. We looked at each other and I think both of us realised that we needed to talk. It had been around 6-7 months since we’d started Pixels Multimedia, things were tough and we needed to reevaluate and clearly define Tabrez’s role in what we were trying to do. I called for cups of chai from a nearby teashop and we sat down inside my small cabin. I encouraged Tabrez to speak openly and share his views on where he thought our business was going and what needed to be done in order to keep going. He admitted he was going through a lean phase and that he needed some time to think about the next steps that he wanted to take. On his part, I think there was a tacit admission of the fact that he wasn’t really enjoying working at Pixels, that there wasn’t really much for him to do (especially given his complete lack of interest in computers) and that he may eventually move on to do something else. As I said earlier, when we first met in October 1996, we were both very excited at the prospect of working together. Now, 8-9 months down the line, we were realizing that that happiness, that excitement stemmed from our many years of friendship and little else. Neither of us had thought things through, which had landed us in a difficult situation.

Pixels Multimedia: Thrown In at the Deep End

Managing Pixels Multimedia and running the business wasn't easy, but I quite enjoyed the challenge. Every day brought new surprises, new issues to resolve...

In an earlier post, I wrote about the passing of my grandfather and travelling to Jaipur to pay my last respects to him. In the meanwhile, things were steaming ahead at work; within one week of my coming back from Jaipur to Lucknow, my small team and I launched Pixels Multimedia. After about 10 intense weeks of groundwork, we were finally open for business. Unfortunately, within a few days after this, I got a call from Mr Nautiyal, in whose house I was staying, and went to meet him. He said I’d have to vacate the house, since he needed the room that he had given to me. He said he was very sorry about this and I reassured him that vacating the house was not a problem, and that I’d find another place and move out soon. The story continues here.

After being asked to vacate the house where I’d been living for the last 10 weeks, I was slightly worried. I needed to find a room quickly – a neat, clean room that I wouldn’t have to share with anyone else. Preferably one that had a PCO and a few inexpensive eating joints in the vicinity. And a safe parking spot for my trusty old Yamaha RX100, which was now beginning to show its age. I spoke to a few of my friends about this and one of them – Shobhit – immediately offered to let me stay in one of the two houses that his family owned in Lalbagh, near Hazratganj. In the house where he offered to let me stay, his family had an office on the ground floor, while the first floor was unoccupied. I was very grateful for his offer, and one room, with an attached bathroom, was given to me. I moved out of Mr Nautiyal’s house in Indira Nagar and took my stuff to Shobhit’s house in Lalbagh. This house was around 9-10km from Pixels Multimedia, which was in Gomti Nagar. But I used to love riding my RX100 in those days and quite enjoyed commuting from home to work and back. I used to get to work early and the morning rides used to be insane, with me wringing out every last bit of performance from my bike’s two-stroke 100cc engine. Downshifting aggressively at every opportunity, accelerating hard, cornering as hard as I dared and riding as fast as possible – the 15-20 minutes of riding to work in the morning, when there was not much traffic on the roads, was pure bliss.

Saying Goodbye to my Grandfather

My grandfather had great love and affection for me. The news of his passing left me devastated

In an earlier post, I wrote about how, when I was getting ready to launch my new business venture in Lucknow, my father called to tell me that his father – my grandfather – has passed away. My grandmother had passed away about three years ago, after which my grandfather had sold his house in Lucknow and had moved in with my father’s eldest brother, who was based in Jaipur. My grandfather, a kind and gentle man, had great love and affection for me and the news of his passing was quite devastating. The story continues here.

As soon as I got to know that my grandfather had passed away, I immediately decided to go to Jaipur to pay my last respects. I left for the railway station right away – bought a train ticket to Jaipur and, while I was unable to secure a reserved birth, climbed into one of the second-class compartments spent the 14-hour journey sitting wherever I could find space, flitting from one corner to another whenever I was asked to move on. I tried to occupy as little space as possible and kept moving, not giving anyone a chance to complain too much. The journey passed without incident and reached my Tau ji’s house just in time. We left for the cremation grounds shortly thereafter where the last rites were performed. I was inconsolable, couldn’t hold back my tears and cried my heart out. While many of my other cousins had also been close to my grandparents, I was perhaps the one who had spent the maximum amount of time with them, and had a strong bond with them. And now, both my grandparents (from my father’s side) were gone. It was an indescribably sad day for me.

Pixels Multimedia: Countdown to Launch

As we prepared to launch Pixels Multimedia, there were literally hundreds of things that needed to be done. Surfing on a wave of adrenaline, Tabrez and I spent hours running around every day, getting things organised and ready for launch

In a recent post, I wrote about moving back to Lucknow, reconnecting with old friends and working out an agreement with my friend Tabrez, who said he’d like to work with me on setting up and running Pixels Multimedia. Though we didn’t realise it then, we hadn’t even reached base camp and there was a very tall, very formidable mountain that we’d soon need to climb. The story continues here.

The first step was to find a suitable place for the institute. I wanted to start with about half a dozen computers and wanted to rent a place situated in a fairly busy place, ideally frequented by a large number of young people. But as I started looking at commercial properties in prime locations, I quickly realised that rents would be astronomical. Places that would provide high visibility were terribly expensive. Lower rents meant out-of-the-way places tucked away in quiet areas, which did not have the ‘buzz’ I was looking for. Within a week, I met at least a dozen or more property brokers and owners but was unable to find a place that seemed right, with the right balance between the rent that I’d have to pay and the visibility I’d get.

Setting up Pixels Multimedia in Lucknow: The First Steps

I'd be starting a new life in Lucknow, stepping into uncharted territory, doing things I'd never done before, making mistakes and getting into and out of trouble. Fools rush in... 

In a recent post, I wrote about leaving my job in Baroda and coming back to Bareilly. I had spent a year in Baroda working on a computer and was obsessed with computers and technology. I had developed a deep interest in things like image and audio/video editing, illustration and 3D animation, and wanted to do something in these areas. In the end I decided to try my hand at setting up a training institute for these, in Lucknow. The story continues here.

I was all set to say goodbye to Bareilly and move back to Lucknow, my hometown, where I would start work on setting up my first business venture – Pixels Multimedia, a training institute where people would have access to the latest computers and advanced software, along with high-quality instruction from experts. Despite having zero experience, I would be setting up the institute and handling everything on my own – the belief one has in his or her own capabilities when one is young, is nothing short of astonishing.

Back in Bareilly, Obsessed with Computers

Using computers was one thing I learned during the one year I spent in Baroda. By the time I came back to Bareilly, I was obsessed with computers and technology

In an earlier post, I wrote about taking up a job with GSW and moving from Bareilly to Baroda. I spent one year there before coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t really anything much for me to do at GSW – I was contributing no real value and hence had no future in Baroda. My employers agreed with me and it was decided I would return to Bareilly and look for other options there. The story continues here.

So, after spending one year in Baroda with GSW, I was back in Bareilly, unemployed, with zero earnings and no savings. I was now 23 years old and felt a pressing need to do something useful with my life. In Baroda, Kamal ji had allowed me to use his computer, on which I had proceeded to learn the basics of AutoCAD. In the process, I had become deeply interested in computers and what one could do with these wonderful machines. While motorcycles and motorcycle racing remained my primary passions, computers and technology were now a close second. In addition to the motorcycle magazines I bought every month, I now also started reading whatever Indian and foreign computer magazines that I could get my hands on. I was like a sponge, soaking in every bit of computer-related information that I could find, reading endlessly and always looking at ways of finding something related to computers that I could do. It never occurred to me that not having a computer engineering background and no formal training in using computers could ever be an impediment in doing something related to computers. But the question that remained unanswered was, what exactly did I want to do?

My First Job: A Year in Baroda, with GSW

I came to Baroda (now Vadodara) in 1995 to work with Goel Scientific Works

In an earlier post, I wrote about moving from Lucknow to Bareilly and completing my post-graduation from Rohilkhand University. With a Master’s degree in hand, it was time to look for a job, but my search for work wasn’t exactly yielding great results. So, now what? The story continues here.

Back in 1993, when I had completed my graduation from Lucknow University and was struggling to figure out what my next steps should be, it was my father who had suggested that I should move to Bareilly, where he was posted at the time. He was the one who had encouraged me to do my post-graduation from Rohilkhand University and simultaneously also enroll in ICFAI’s distance learning program for CFA certification. While I had dropped out of CFA after just a few months, I had at least been able to complete my post-graduation from Bareilly – at least now I had a Master’s degree and could put that on my CV, even if the reality was that I did not really care for accounts, commerce, banking and business studies etc., and did not know much about any of these subjects, despite having a degree that implied I should.

Lost and Clueless: Moving from Lucknow to Bareilly

I landed up in Bareilly in 1993, with no friends, nothing much to do and no clue about the direction in which my life would go. All I had was my trusty old Yamaha RX100, the piles of motorcycle magazines which I bought every month and a Casio keyboard that I played regularly. Incidentally, this pic of me pulling a wheelie on my RX100 was clicked by my father!

In 1993, I completed my graduation from Lucknow University and was clueless about what to do next. Unlike young people today, who have access to a great amount of information online and who seem to have their entire careers planned out by the time they clear class 12, I guess our generation was different. In the early-1990s, study and career options were pretty limited – at least in Lucknow – and most people studied to be doctors, engineers or lawyers. Doing an MBA was becoming quite popular and some were even opting for the newly-announced CFA (chartered financial analyst) course. Other options included chartered accountancy, the civil services, joining the armed forces or perhaps joining a bank or the LIC.

A Big Accident and One Intense Year with Indian Auto

In a bid to spice things up at Indian Auto, we started featuring high-end foreign bikes in the magazine, which hadn't been done before

In an earlier post, I wrote about leaving CNET India and coming back to Jasubhai Media, joining Indian Auto. I was just about getting started at Indian Auto when tragedy struck. The story continues here.

When I joined Indian Auto as executive editor in mid-2000, I had no formal training in journalism. Before this, I had written a few tech-related articles for the Times of India (Lucknow edition) as a freelancer and had worked for two years with CHIP, as the head of writers’ team. At that time, my only understanding of what automotive journalism can or should be, came from having read dozens of car and motorcycle magazines – both Indian and foreign – every single month, for the last 15 years. That, along with my love for all things automotive, had me join Indian Auto and to this day I remain grateful to Maulik for having given me a chance to lead Indian Auto.

Ducati 848 Evo: The Italian Stallion

The Ducati 848 Evo. Hard-core, committed, brutal. Unrelenting. But such a memorable ride...

Back in 2012, I had an opportunity to ride a Ducati 848 Evo and write about it for Man’s World magazine. And not just a short ride either – the Ducati team allowed me to keep the bike with me for 3-4 days, which was just incredible. Apart from its drop-dead gorgeous Italian styling, red paint and single-sided swingarm, the 848 Evo was powered by a 140-horsepower twin-cylinder engine; zero to 60kph came up in just over 3 second and top speed was over 260km/h. Here are some excerpts from the article I wrote for MW.

Even before you begin to experience its incredible performance, the first thing about the 848 Evo that grabs your attention is its styling. No matter how many times you’ve seen the bike in pictures, the first time you see it in the flesh, it’s still stunning – the aggressive stance, the pointy snout with the twin headlamps and their angry glare, the carefully sculpted bodywork and tail section, and that utterly gorgeous single-sided swingarm, which puts the bike’s beautifully-machined Y-spoke alloy rear wheel up on full view on one side, are all deeply lustworthy. Gianandrea Fabbro, the Italian designer responsible for the 1098/848’s styling, really has done an outstanding job with this machine.

Back to Jasubhai, with Indian Auto

Indian Auto had become dull, drab and uninteresting over the years. My aim was to inject some excitement into the magazine with fresh design and vastly improved quality of articles. That said, this cover (March 2001) backfired and we got a lot of flak for not wearing helments for the cover shoot

In an earlier post, I wrote about how I had moved from CHIP to CNET India, lured by the prospects of being a part of the dotcom boom and a big jump in salary. However, things did not work out at CNET and Sridhar and I put in our papers within three months of joining the organisation. Sridhar soon found another job in Bangalore and left Bombay, while I was left to fend for myself and had to think about what I wanted to do next. The story continues here.

After leaving CNET India, I spent a week or 10 days in quiet solitude at home, only venturing out for meals. Sridhar had vacated his apartment in Raval Tower and had left for Bangalore. I had stayed on and had to take stock of my options. Going back to CHIP was out of the question – I never even thought about it. That chapter of my life was over and I had moved on, both mentally and physically. But there was this other thing. The Jasubhai Group had two media divisions back then – one was Jasubhai Digital Media (JDM), which had CHIP, Computer Reseller News (CRN), Network Computing and ZDNet India. This was the cool, new-age media house managed primarily by Maulik, Mr Jasubhai Shah’s son, with some inputs from Gourav, the outstandingly brilliant former editor of CHIP who was now based in Goa. The other division was Jasubhai Media, under which there were some of the group’s older magazines like Chemical Engineering World, Indian Architect & Builder and Indian Auto.

Second-hand Dreams: Used Books to the Rescue

For those who are willing to spend some time and put in some effort, you can find some incredible bargains in used books stalls. And these days, used books websites have made things even easier

‘We Indians are value conscious, not cost conscious,’ we like to tell each other. But the notion of what may or may not be ‘value’ is often wildly different for each of us. Is a Rs 25 lakh Rolex chronograph, good value? What about an iPhone that costs Rs 1.40 lakh? Or a Rs 20,000 pair of Nike running shoes? Or Rs 10,000 for a meal for two, at a top-end 5-star hotel? When it comes to spending, financial prudence can often be at loggerheads with emotions and aspirations, and sometimes there’s no reasoning with the latter.

CNET India: Failure to Ignite

Right from the word go, CNET India was a non-starter and was the end of my dotcom dreams 

In an earlier post, I had written about how my friend Sridhar and I left CHIP together and joined CNET, which was setting up operations in India, in the first quarter of the year 2000. While CHIP had been a huge learning experience for me – that is where I learned the basics of journalism and learned to put together long-form stories for a magazine – it was time to move on. I was young and restless, saw the dotcom boom happening all around me, heard about the outrageous salaries being paid to journalists everywhere and felt the need to be part of this exciting new online thing. Sridhar felt the same way and since we’d both been hired by CNET India, we couldn’t be happier.

CHIP Thrills – The End

The late-1990s dotcom boom was a memorable period, though that boom was clearly unsustainable

In part 2 of this story, I’d written about CHIP moving from Bandra Kurla to DN Road, new magazines being added to the Jasubhai Digital Media (JDM) portfolio and a bunch of new people joining the fast-growing organization. I also wrote about Sridhar, my first meeting with whom was marked by my unwarranted misbehaviour with him but who later became one of my best friends in Bombay. The story continues below.

Learning to Live in Bombay: CHIP Thrills – Part 2

From Bandra Kurla, the CHIP office moved to Taj Building, on Dr DN Road

In part 1 of this story, I’d written about joining CHIP magazine, which was then based in Bandra Kurla, finding a hostel in Bandra as temporary accommodation and learning to get around the city. In this chapter, the story continues below.

Within 2-3 months after I joined CHIP, the management decided to move CHIP’s office from the Bandra Kurla complex to another one of Jasubhai Media’s office locations – this one on the 3^rd floor of the Taj Building on Dr Dadabhai Naoroji Road (or DN road, as it’s more popularly known), in the Fort area, near VT station (now Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus). Situated between Crawford Market and Flora Fountain, Dr DN Road is steeped in 19^th century history and is home to a whole lineup of colonial-era heritage buildings – grand old structures that have stood the test of time. Some of these buildings are clean and well-maintained while some others could do with better upkeep. While the exterior facades have not been changed, the interiors of most buildings have been modified to accommodate modern-day shops and offices. Taj Building, when I worked there in 1999, was in reasonable shape, though its ancient wooden staircases were age-worn and a bit creaky, while the tiny elevator – which was equally ancient and still had a lift operator (!) – could only accommodate 2-3 people at a time. It remained closed for about an hour during lunchtime, because the operator went on his lunch break and you weren’t allowed to operate the elevator on your own.

Learning to Live in Bombay: CHIP Thrills – Part 1

Balarama Building, Bandra Kurla Complex. This is where the CHIP office used to be in the late-1990s

 

In an earlier post, I’d written about how I applied for work at CHIP magazine, was interviewed by its Editor, Gourav Jaswal and was offered a job as a writer @Rs 9,000 per month. (For those who may be wondering, this was back in 1998, and Rs 9K per month wasn’t really as bad as it sounds today, in 2024.) So, here’s the follow-up piece to that: Here’s the story of my moving from Lucknow to Bombay, and my first few years in the city as a newbie tech journalist.

I had to join CHIP on 1^st June 1998. In those days, the CHIP office used to be in Balarama Building in Bandra Kurla Complex. Before I left Lucknow, my parents had spoken to my aunt (my mother’s youngest sister), who used to live in the Dadiseth Agiyari Lane, near Chira Bazar, in Kalbadevi. Despite the fact that her place was quite compact, she still very kindly agreed to let me stay with her family for a few days until the time I could find a place for myself. Finally, at the end of May, I got on a train to Bombay, landed up at the Bombay Central station and took a cab to my aunt’s place. My aunt and her family made me feel welcome and my uncle explained to me how I should take the local train the next morning, get off at the Bandra West station and then take an auto to reach the CHIP office. For someone who’s never done this before – especially for a Lucknow wallah used to getting around everywhere on his motorcycle – getting on to a local train in Bombay in the morning, during peak rush hours, can be a scary experience. The crowd is just unbelievable – passengers are smashed inside and out of train compartments, a thousand human bodies are compressed against each other till they’re about to burst, feet get trampled upon and sometimes it can be hard to even breathe normally. That, along with the intense heat and humidity of Bombay makes travelling in local trains an exercise in building character. You what they say – what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.