A recruiter calls me to talk about a Data Science position in Pune…

A recruiter calls me this morning, from Hyderabad, all unexpectedly. No emails beforehand, no recruiter messages at a jobs-site, no SMSs, nothing. Just a direct call. They are considering me for a Data Science position, in Pune. She says it’s a position about Data Science and Python.

Asks about my total and relevant experience. I tell: 23 years in all, ~12 years in s/w development. She asks about my Python experience. I tell: Familiarity for, may be, 10 years if not more; actual use for, may be, 5–6 years. (Turns out to be since 2006, and since at least 2013–14 times, in connection with scripting while using the open-source FEM libraries, respectively.)

She then asks me about my data science experience.

I tell that I’ve been into it for about a year by now, but no professional, paid experience as such. Also add that I do understand kernels from the Kaggle competitions. (In fact, I can think of bringing about meaningful variations in them too.)

She asks about my last job. I tell: Academia, recently, after PhD. (She sounds a bit concerned, may be confused. She must be looking at my resume.) But before that, I was in the software field, I say. And now, am now looking for a Data Science position. I then add: In the software development field, my last job was as a Systems Architect, reporting directly to the CEO. … By this time, she must have spotted this software experience listing in my resume. She says “OK,” with just a shade of a sense of satisfaction audible in the way she sounds.

She then again asks me about my Data Science experience. I now tell her directly: Paid experience, 0 (zero) years.

Hearing it, she keeps the phone down. Just like that. Without any concluding remarks. Not even just a veneer of a courtesey like a hurried “OK, if you are found suitable, we will get back to you” etc. Nothing. Not even that. No thanks, nothing.

She. Just. Keeps. The. Phone. Down.


It must be a project for one of those companies from America, especially from California, especially from the San Francisco Bay Area. Only they can be as dumbidiots* as that. And, they could very well be one of those “Capitalist”s, esp. Indians—there and here. “You are just as good as your performance on your last job!” Said sternly. And, the quote taken literally. In the current context, it is obviously taken to mean that I am as good as zero, when it comes to Data Science positions.

Dumbidiots*. Zeno’s descendents. They don’t deserve to hire me.

But these stupididiots* do amass a lot of money for themselves. Help build the nation. Etc.

Rich idiocy.


*By the rules of the Sanskrit grammar, this “sandhi” is correct. English is an Indo-European language. So, such a “sandhi” should be allowed. The jointed word means something like “k’mt’om” [^] “moorkha”. (You look up “moorkha”.)


A song I like:
(Hindi) “hum the, woh thee, aur, samaa rangeen…”
Singer: Kishore Kumar
Lyrics: Majrooh Sultanpuri
Music: S. D. Burman

 

Advertisements

Work Is Punishment

Work is not worship—they said.

It’s a punishment, full stop!—they said.

One that is to be smilingly borne.

Else you lose your job.

And so lose everything else too. …


Hmmm… I said. … I was confused.

Work is enjoyment, actually. … I then discovered.

I told them.


They didn’t believe.

Not when I said it.

Not because they ceased believing in me.

It’s just that. They. Simply. Didn’t. Believe. In. It.

And they professed to believe in

a lot of things that never did make

any sense to themselves.

They said so.

And it was so.


A long many years have passed by, since then.


Now, whether they believe in it or not,

I have come to believe in this gem:

Work is punishment—full stop.


That’s the principle on the basis of which I am henceforth going to operate.

And yes! This still is a poem alright?

[What do you think most poems written these days are like?]

It remains a poem.


And I am going to make money. A handsome amount of money.

For once in my life-time.

After all, one can make money and still also write poems.

That’s what they say.

Or do science. Real science. Physics. Even physics for that matter.

Or, work. Real work, too.


It’s better than having no money and…

.


 

 

 

TL;DR: Why am I jobless?

TL;DR: Why am I jobless?

Because, they had no guts (or even sense) to give me a job in time, and thereby allow even me to become a rich man—even if they had always had the wealth to do so. Only if they were honest enough!


Simple enough a formulation, no?

But does it carry even a ring of a truth? The responsibility of finding an answer to this question rests with those who raise it.


A song I like:

(Hindi) “dil mein kisi ke pyaar kaa…”
Music: Ravi [Sharma]
Lyrics: Saahir Ludhiyaanvi
Singer: Lata Mangeshkar

[Lata is good here but I like her much better in the original song (i.e. another song of the same tune, by the same composer): “woh dil kahaan se laaoon…” If I were to rate that song, I would put her at the top, followed by Ravi and then by Rajinder Kishen (the lyricist for the original one). Rajinder Kishen’s lyrics for the original song were very good too, and he is a great lyricist—he has penned some really memorable songs in his career. But somehow, I like the theme and the tone of the present lyrics by Saahir better. “dil mein kisi ke pyaar kaa jalataa huaa diyaa, duniyaa ki aandhiyon se bhalaa yeh boojhegaa kyaa?” … Sublime!

Kishore Kumar, in comparison to all the four, comes across as a much lesser guy in his version of the present song. Having appreciated and admired him very deeply over so many years, it was not exactly a simple statement to make, but that’s the way things are here.]

 

 

 

I still need a good enough a job in data science in Pune. But in the meanwhile…

I still need a good enough (and very well paying) a job in data science in Pune. I think I will perform well in it. I have the background to show you that you can expect me to perform really well… I can also arrange for the necessary references.


But in the meanwhile…

But in the meanwhile, you can check out what these beauties from the XYZ households from Pune have been eating out… (Are these XYZ households likely to be caste-Brahmins? What does the data say?)

If I were to mention these kind of beauties when I was in the San Francisco Bay Area, they and especially their Indian supporters would have, under the direction of the appropriate caste-Brahmins and Americans, attacked me like no hell. Especially during the 1998—2001 times. And then continuing unabated until 2008. Also, later on, but to much less extent.

But these beauties from Pune do love food.

So what if to pursue their fulfillment, they have no choice but to keep ME out of a job.

Capitalism. Yeah right!

 

I need a [very well paying] job in data science. Now.

I need a very well paying job in data science. Now. In Pune, India.


 



Yes, I was visiting Kota for some official work when at the railway station of the [back then, a simple little] town, on a “whim” (borne out of a sense of curiosity, having heard the author’s name), I bought it. That was on 14th July 1987. The stamp of the A. H. Wheeler and Company (Rupa Publications), so well known to us all (including IITians and IIM graduates) back then, stand in a mute testimony for the same—the price, and the fact that this little book was imported by them. As to bearing testimony to the event, so does my signature, and the noting of the date. (I would ordinarily have no motivation to note a fake date, what do you say?) Also notable is the price of the book: Rs. 59/-. Bought out of Rs. 1800/- per month, if I remember those days right (and plain because I was an M. Tech. from (one of the then five) IITs. My juniors from my own UG college, COEP, would have had to start with a Rs. 1200/- or Rs. 1400/- package, and rise to my level in about 3 years, back then.)

Try to convince my the then back self that I would be jobless today.

No, really. Do that.

And see if I don’t call you names. Right here.

Americans!


A song I like:

(English, pop-song): “Another town, another train…”
Band (i.e. music, composition, lyrics, etc., to the best of my knowledge): ABBA

Bye for now.


And develop a habit to read—and understand—books. That’s important. As my example serves to illustrate the point. Whether I go jobful or jobless. It’s a good habit to cultivate.

But then, Americans have grown so insensitive to the authentic pains of others—including real works by others. The said attitude must reflect inwards too. The emphasis is on the word “authentic.” If a man doesn’t care for another honest, really very hard-working man in pain but spends his intellect and time in finding rationalizations to enhance his own prestige and money-obtaining powers, by the law of integrative mechanism of conscisousness that is the law of “karma,” the same thing must haunt him back—whether he be a Republican, or a Democrat. (Just a familiarity with the word “karma” is not enough to escape its bad—or good—effects. What matters are actions (“karma”s), ultimately. But given the fact that man has intellect, these are helped, not obscured, by it.)

Go, convince Americans to give me a good, well-paying job, in data science, and in Pune—the one that matches my one-sentence profile (mentioned here) and my temperament. As to the latter, simple it is, to put it in one sentence: “When the time calls for it, I am known to call a spade a spade.”

And, I can call Americans (and JPBTIs) exactly what they have earned.

But the more important paragraph was the second in this section. Starting from “But then, Americans have grown so insensitive to the authentic… .”

Instead of “pains,” you could even add a value / virtue. The statement would hold.