Welcome To The USA

This is the story of a brilliant young man who seems to be always on the move, moving from one interesting city to the other. At the beginning, the author leaves New Delhi for US, where he is awarded a fellowship to study at University of California, but he gets caught into culture shock, as well as an internal dilemma, seeking a deeper meaning of life. While he is most vulnerable, he manages to fall in love with one his student but is unable to express his feelings. Then he seems to have gone through the roller coaster ride of the technology industry emerging as a winner, a successful technologist leading a group of innovators. We end in beautiful San Diego, with a moving story about how the author and his family face the Inferno, the great wildfires of 2007. I don't believe anyone has experienced living unless they have ventured around like the author has. It is in his narratives, his reaction to the challenges he faces and his observations of people and culture of various places that he truly shines. It is my top read of the year!

Whether you ever wondered about meaning of it all, or you want to read something light amusing, or want to see places like Seattle, San Diego, and Nashville from the eyes of the writer, or vicariously live the life of a student at University of California, this book is for you! This book combines elements from good humor, a memoir, a scenic travelogue, a touching love story, science fiction and philosophy. The author, pretends to be an Artificial Imagination computer program simulating human creativity, describes the life/career journey of a modern nomad through the Hi Tech world of California and Washington (Settle). The book is clever, witty and obviously written by someone very intelligent but still manages to be very down to earth and funny! it's light reading, the author has a conversational style, you feel as if you are reading a letter from a close friend!!

I was half way through this humorous photo-story of a hi-tech, Asian-Indian immigrant's journey from Silicon Valley to Seattle, Nashville and San Diego in search of a place he can call home before I realized it is poetry in the form of prose. I'm not just referring to the two and three sentence paragraphs (which are verse like), but to the imaginative leaps, stunning imagery and, most important, how the words hook us in, make us think this is our story...and in a way it is. We see words on the page but live them out in the theater of our imagination. The Foreword discusses the myth that "technology is all brain, no heart" and by extension how we, raised in the humanities, are convinced "techies" are from another planet. This book reminds us that the mysteries of technology are those of the human mind and the soul, and we all share these no matter what our occupation, no matter where we happen to be born: "'Why am I here?' may appear to be a simple question, but... is there a deeper purpose for being where we are?" We know that the question applies not only to existence and to the physical location where we spend our lives, but also to our place in the time continuum. I have several web sites I've designed and three blogs, but I have to say today's world belongs to the author's generation, not mine. And I am also trying to find my way home in its strange land (just as someone who travels from New Delhi to Silicon Valley might feel they have traveled forty years into the future, so I sitting in the agricultural landscape of Wisconsin feel I have had a glimpse into the vitality of the present world). I feel I am in the hands of a good guide. Here is what it means to do research today: "Rip apart an electronic system and you see nothing moving, nothing vibrating, in fact you don't see much at all. It's almost a make-believe world, a child's fantasy, a writer's imagination. The only thing that makes you believe in it is that it works", what it means to not be afraid to ask dumb sounding questions: "Does Seattle really have a higher number of professional women with tattoos?" and what it means to yearn for acceptance and feel accepted: "I looked at Seattle's glistening skyline on one side and its beautiful waterfront on the other and asked it the same questions as I had asked San Francisco sixteen years ago: Will it accept me? Or will its people treat me as someone different, not one of them? And will I accept it, call it my home? Right then, she appeared from nowhere, as if the city had sent her to answer my questions. ...Her friends were giggling as she approached me with a bashful smile, stretched her arm towards me and insisted in her musical voice, `Come dance with me. You must!'" I loved the section addressing Seattle's "slacker sun," that comes late to work, like at 9 a.m. and goes back at 4; and the observation that for males, until the age eight, we want every pretty woman to be our mother, then for the next 30 years our fri

I was half way through this humorous photo-story of a hi-tech, Asian-Indian immigrant's journey from Silicon Valley to Seattle, Nashville and San Diego in search of a place he can call home before I realized it is poetry in the form of prose. I'm not just referring to the two and three sentence paragraphs (which are verse like), but to the imaginative leaps, stunning imagery and, most important, how the words hook us in, make us think this is our story...and in a way it is. We see words on the page but live them out in the theater of our imagination. The Foreword discusses the myth that "technology is all brain, no heart" and by extension how we, raised in the humanities, are convinced "techies" are from another planet. This book reminds us that the mysteries of technology are those of the human mind and the soul, and we all share these no matter what our occupation, no matter where we happen to be born: "'Why am I here?' may appear to be a simple question, but... is there a deeper purpose for being where we are?" We know that the question applies not only to existence and to the physical location where we spend our lives, but also to our place in the time continuum. I have several web sites I've designed and three blogs, but I have to say today's world belongs to the author's generation, not mine. And I am also trying to find my way home in its strange land (just as someone who travels from New Delhi to Silicon Valley might feel they have traveled forty years into the future, so I sitting in the agricultural landscape of Wisconsin feel I have had a glimpse into the vitality of the present world). I feel I am in the hands of a good guide. Here is what it means to do research today: "Rip apart an electronic system and you see nothing moving, nothing vibrating, in fact you don't see much at all. It's almost a make-believe world, a child's fantasy, a writer's imagination. The only thing that makes you believe in it is that it works", what it means to not be afraid to ask dumb sounding questions: "Does Seattle really have a higher number of professional women with tattoos?" and what it means to yearn for acceptance and feel accepted: "I looked at Seattle's glistening skyline on one side and its beautiful waterfront on the other and asked it the same questions as I had asked San Francisco sixteen years ago: Will it accept me? Or will its people treat me as someone different, not one of them? And will I accept it, call it my home? Right then, she appeared from nowhere, as if the city had sent her to answer my questions. ...Her friends were giggling as she approached me with a bashful smile, stretched her arm towards me and insisted in her musical voice, `Come dance with me. You must!'" I loved the section addressing Seattle's "slacker sun," that comes late to work, like at 9 a.m. and goes back at 4; and the observation that for males, until the age eight, we want every pretty woman to be our mother, then for the next 30 years our friend and

I was half way through this humorous photo-story of a hi-tech, Asian-Indian immigrant's journey from Silicon Valley to Seattle, Nashville and San Diego in search of a place he can call home before I realized it is poetry in the form of prose. I'm not just referring to the two and three sentence paragraphs (which are verse like), but to the imaginative leaps, stunning imagery and, most important, how the words hook us in, make us think this is our story...and in a way it is. We see words on the page but live them out in the theater of our imagination. The Foreword discusses the myth that "technology is all brain, no heart" and by extension how we, raised in the humanities, are convinced "techies" are from another planet. This book reminds us that the mysteries of technology are those of the human mind and the soul, and we all share these no matter what our occupation, no matter where we happen to be born. "'Why am I here?' may appear to be a simple question, but... is there a deeper purpose for being where we are?" We know that the question applies not only to existence and to the physical location where we spend our lives, but also to our place in the time continuum. I have several web sites I've designed and three blogs, but I have to say today's world belongs to the author's generation, not mine. And I am also trying to find my way home in its strange land (just as someone who travels from New Delhi to Silicon Valley might feel they have traveled forty years into the future, so I sitting in the agricultural landscape of Wisconsin feel I have had a glimpse into the vitality of the present world). I feel I am in the hands of a good guide. Here is what it means to do research today ("Rip apart an electronic system and you see nothing moving, nothing vibrating, in fact you don't see much at all. It's almost a make-believe world, a child's fantasy, a writer's imagination. The only thing that makes you believe in it is that it works."), what it means to not be afraid to ask dumb questions ("Does Seattle really have a higher number of professional women with tattoos?") and what it means to feel accepted ("I looked at Seattle's glistening skyline on one side and its beautiful waterfront on the other and asked it the same questions as I had asked San Francisco sixteen years ago: Will it accept me? Or will its people treat me as someone different, not one of them? And will I accept it, call it my home? Right then, she appeared from nowhere, as if the city had sent her to answer my questions. ...Her friends were giggling as she approached me with a bashful smile, stretched her arm towards me and insisted in her musical voice, `Come dance with me. You must!'") I loved the section addressing Seattle's "slacker sun," that comes late to work, like at 9 a.m. and goes back at 4; and the observation that for males, until the age eight, we want every pretty woman to be our mother, then for the next 30 years our friend and finally, when we have daughters, th