Monday Morning Tech and Life

This is a eulogy that I gave for my father-in-Law, Indra Gupta, on August 6, 2021 at Alameda Family Funeral and Cremation in Saratoga, CA.

April 15, 1941 - August 3, 2021

Jay Shree Krishna

Friends and family. We gather here to celebrate the life of my father-in-law and my dear friend, Indra Gupta. You've come from far and wide, some from across the globe in these trying and precarious COVID times. Some of you are watching a live stream at an unnatural hour in the middle of the night and others are replaying a video to pay their respects. We are comforted and truly grateful for your support in this time of remembrance.

Forgive me for reading this eulogy. Like many of you, my emotions are also running high, and I oftentimes find it difficult to stay on course. Today, we will be sharing our thoughts and memories of Dad. I will kick it off, and his daughter, grandchildren, and family will follow. Then, we ask that others in the audience share their memories, however brief, to help comfort and heal. 

By way of introduction, I'm Nupur's husband, and Indra's son-in-law. He was both a role model and dear friend of mine. Dad always treated me like a son, since he only had daughters. Today, I'll share my stories of his life, our relationship, and what he has taught me. Dad was an honest man with a never-ending thirst for knowledge. He had courage of his convictions, and unconditional love and support for his family.

Dad was highly educated and had a thirst for exploration and learning. He began his career in India. With a natural gift for mathematics, he scored well on his exams and followed his brother into the Indian Forest Service. As an officer in one branch of India's prestigious civil services, he lived an adventurous, and yet comfortable life. The forest service stationed him for brief stints in beautiful mountainous forests all across northern India. His daughters were born in India, and his family traveled with him wherever he went. I remember, whenever I told him about a long run or treacherous hike that I finished, he always reminded me that during his days in India he often traveled 20-30 miles a day, on foot, at altitudes above 10,000 feet. This is when and how, I think, he and his family developed a deep connection and reverence for nature that eventually led them to the state of Washington in the US.

While Dad rarely spoke in detail about the reasons for leaving India, my understanding is that he could no longer tolerate the corruption. Dad was an honest man, and never veered towards that path. So, he was passed over for opportunities and promotion. Standing by his principles, he looked elsewhere and took a chance at building a life in the US. He started all over again in 1979 -- as a graduate student in the University of Washington school of forestry, in his early 40s.

Imagine that: starting over again in the second half of your life with two young kids and wife, while living in graduate student housing and on a stipend. I'm sure my wife will cover this part of his story in more detail. But, times were tough not only because of the need for frugality but also because their immigration status was temporary and uncertain. Once his student VISA ran out, roughly in 1987, he would have to give up what he built in the US, return to India, and start again. Still he was undeterred. He used whatever savings the family had, about $10,000, to pay a lawyer to navigate the process for permanent residency. It was touch and go for months, but, luckily for us all, he was able to get a greencard for everyone and eventually citizenship.

He earned a PhD in forestry, but never really used it. His curiosity, penchant for technology, and uncanny ability to spot early trends, led him to computers. He ran IT for the finance department of the University of Washington, where he earned a solid wage and was able to put his daughters through college. He was especially proud of this accomplishment. Ashima Didi graduated from U. Washington, and Nupur graduated from MIT. Both of them are now successful executives in technology. Talk about courage of your convictions.

And, after this is when I met him. Nupur and I dated through college, and she told her parents about me. During winter break of my junior year in January 1995, they invited me to spend it with them in Seattle. Now that I have a daughter roughly the same age, I can imagine what he was thinking. Who is this guy? What if it doesn't work out? I was also nervous. Dating was new for both his family and ours, and it's easy to treat it with apprehension. But instead, he welcomed me with open arms. He not only trusted Nupur to make good choices, but he was also willing to give me the benefit of doubt. They toured me all around the local area, showing off the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest -- Snoqualmie Falls, Mt. Rainer, and the one and only time that I've been to Whistler.  By the end of that trip, we all felt like we were part of the same family.

I have spent most of my adult life on the west coast, and, for me, he was a second father. He loved to talk to me about stocks, politics, and my career. And, his ability to stay ahead of what is relevant was uncanny. His curiosity led him to be a self-taught database administrator and data scientist. He was using tools like Oracle and SAS before the word data scientist was even coined. He advised Nupur to join Xilinx after graduation, having done his research when Xilinx was still a small 1000-employee company. His advice was spot-on. It helped put our family on solid financial footing early on, and still continues to pay out everyday. More importantly, he has been a trusted friend and advisor for me. When I started my first company, Amiato, he encouraged me take the plunge, even though he knew we had mortgage and our third child on the way. And, when Amiato was wrapping up, he supported me, though he secretly wanted me to keep it going.

Dad and I always had this back-and-forth -- he'd ask me how much money I made or my net worth. And, I'd find a way to tell him that it was more than enough. Once, I told him that I had a "billion" dollars. He turned to me without flinching and told me that he would not be surprised if that'd be the case one day. Even as recently as a few months ago, I was struggling with a decision at work to take on leadership of a large, complex business (Elasticsearch) versus growing the existing businesses I helped start. We talked about it for hours on a Friday afternoon and couldn't come to a clear decision. The next day he pulled me aside and told me with conviction that I should take it on. I should not fear the unknown, and I should constantly push the limits of my knowledge and capabilities. He also had a hunch, based on his brief reading of the landscape that the new business was going to become even more interesting, really soon, and he was more than right. Also, as recently as a couple of weeks ago, when he was in the hospital, he was advising me against leaving Amazon unless it was for a significantly larger opportunity or to start my own business. Everytime we talked about doing a startup, he'd always seriously ask if he could work for me in his retirement. Dad really believed in me and gave me courage to believe in myself. 

Dad also had a spontaneous and mischievous side to him that was driven by generosity. For example, he loved to watch movies, literally non-stop. There are so many stories of him taking our girls to the opening day of a movie, like Frozen, or buying all of the Disney DVDs known to man. He also liked to spoil the grandchildren with gifts, going to the ends of the earth to find the latest gadgets for birthdays and Christmas. Or, he took them for ice cream and other delicious spoils. I'll stop here to avoid stealing the thunder from others going next. But, I want to share two light-hearted stories from our time in Hyderabad together that show this side.

The first is when we were walking about shopping with Nupur and Mom. Both he and I often indulged our wives in shopping, but found it quite boring. So, he pulled me aside and asked me if I wanted a snack. He found a nearby cart full of hot samosas and chutney that looked liked it was made with the raw tasty waters of India. Now, many of you know, we had no business eating snacks from the side of the street in India. Still, he asked me mischievously -- "I won't tell Nupur if you don't tell Mom?". We indulged.

On that same trip in Hyderabad, I needed a Hindi-speaking companion to help me bargain for an anniversary present for Nupur. I wanted to buy diamond jewelry, and if I went in speaking English, I knew I'd get ripped off. So, I took him with me to the famous Musadillalls jewelry store. Now, Dad is known for his bargaining skills, often making his counterparts writhe in anguish. This time, they refused to budge on price. So, he asked to see more pieces and selected something for Mom as well. Then he went in for the kill -- both or none. The salespeople didn't know how to handle him. Let's just say, we got what we came for. Then, when we returned home -- he just couldn't wait. He showed Mom her present right away and spoiled the surprise that I had for Nupur. There are so many such stories where he was ebullient with his generosity, unconditionally -- with his family, children, and most importantly his grandchildren. So now, I too find myself unable to contain myself on birthdays and anniversaries.

While I could go on with Dad stories all afternoon, I'd like to close with a quote from the Bhagvad Gita (Chapter 4, Verse 40):

But persons who possess neither faith nor knowledge, and who are of a doubting nature, suffer a downfall. For the skeptical souls, there is no happiness either in this world or the next.

Dad, you set the example. You taught me to continually explore and learn, no matter what life has thrown at you. You also taught me to have the courage of my convictions. I will carry these examples for my children, so they can take on the challenges of their lives without living in fear and doubt.

And from the Gita Saar:

Whatever happened, was good, what's happening, it's going well, whatever will happen, will also be good. You need not have any regrets for the past. Do not worry for the future. Live in Present.

Dad, the last year, and especially the last few months have been hard for you. But, you lived every moment of it. You went to every birthday and anniversary celebration. We pulled off a Christmas during COVID. Most importantly, even when you knew you were physically hurting, you joined us in Morrow Bay for your 80th birthday and our final vacation together. You climbed the steps every morning to share breakfast and dinner. You suffered the cold winds at the beaches, just so that you could be out there with your girls. Even in last few days in the hospital, you told Mom that you'd find a way to survive with a bipap machine at home for two more years. Even though you were hurting, you truly lived with unconditional support for your family.