And thus begins another academic year ...

After a record-breaking number of 90-plus degree highs on summer days, the temperature is beginning to cool down. No surprise, therefore, that while filling gas on my way to campus, the small talk at the pump was all about the summer heat and the drizzle that had started falling.

"The drops are getting bigger" the attendant said, to which from the other car came a reply, "I hope it rains well.  We need it."  All our heads nodded, in perfect unison.  I suppose no "real" Oregonian ever says anything against the rain.  After all, we know all too well that there is no green without the heavenly waters.

The little bit of rain and the clouds was a wonderful way to welcome in a new academic year.

Too bad the year always begins with meetings.
Dull and boring meetings.
Meetings where people pontificate.
Meetings where it is the same bullshit over and over again.

But then roses come with thorns.  The beautiful lotus is always in the most awful ponds.  Perhaps the ugly makes the beautiful that much more awesome.

I walked into my office and saw the roses--the cards I have received from students over the years.  If only I had had the sense to retain the ones from the early years of my career.  While I did appreciate getting them even when younger, it is with age that I have learnt to value and treasure them.  Especially in the era of email and Twitter, the handwritten thank-you notes are priceless.

To say thanks, with the deepest of sincerity, is not something that I knew when I was young.  The old country traditions did not even have a place for "thanks" in the interactions.  Now, when I visit with family and friends, and on occasions that merit a heartfelt thanks, I convey my thanks to them.  Once, after returning to Eugene, I mailed thank-you notes to my parents' neighbors who helped out when my parents came down with the flu.  I came to know later that those thank-you cards were the talk of the building for a few days.

I was walking back to the car when I heard my name being yelled.  Back in the old country, a gazillion male heads would have turned in response.  Here, there is perhaps no other Sriram within a hundred mile radius ;)

It was one of the roses from the past.

There couldn't be any better beginning to a new year.