The Tibetan Singing Bowls

Let’s be real!

While my meetings with some of the most iconic brands in the world and travels around the globe may seem glamorous and as if I am living my dream – they come at a cost.

I am grateful for these opportunities every single day and wake up each morning feeling blessed to be working at a company and in an industry that allows me to be fulfilled and truly enjoy what I earn my bread and butter with. However, that requires operating like a duck: calm at the surface but paddling furiously to stay afloat.

The past 5 weeks have been a sprint requiring the endurance of a marathon. I was meeting with 4-6 companies every week, preparing for a last minute keynote which required traveling to Napa on a Sunday and straight to the airport for a 17 hour flight on Monday in addition to getting ready for a trip to Argentina where I was supposed to meet with seven (!) companies’ leadership teams and deliver another keynote – all in a span of three days.

I pride myself for rarely every working on weekends but the past five weeks I was working every single weekday and weekend day just to keep up with the demands of work and my own expectations of myself. I am not complaining about the work at all. I love this role more than any I have ever had in my working life. But our minds and bodies will only take so much abuse before they start signaling to slow down.

About a month ago, the first signs started appearing with spastic pains in the neck, shoulder and lower back, which I ignored at first labeling them as a recurring chronic pain but eventually it led me to visit a chiropractor on a weekly basis.

The second signals were uneasy, interrupted sleep, waking up at 4 in the morning – and mind you I am the kind of person who normally sleeps like a baby for 8-9 hours!

The final jolt hit me squarely in the face when I was about to step onto the stage to present a keynote to 400+ people in Buenos Aires on Wednesday evening. I was shivering despite a town’s worth of lights on me and my throat was scratchy making every word coming out of my mouth painful. By night I was wrapped in two thick blankets with the heater in the room set to 26 degrees Celsius. My fever finally broke. On Thursday morning I woke up sweating and with a needle-studded throat. I had three 90 minute meetings that day and three more of the same length the following day. Clients were driving from all over Buenos Aires to meet so there was no possible way to call in sick.

Showers are to fever as sunlight is to vampires. After getting ready I made my way to the office only to profusely start sweating 30 minutes into the first meeting. Somehow I made it through it with the help of my colleague who had warned the clients about my condition in advance. Argentinians love to talk so before I could bail out for a break it was time to start the next meeting right away. An hour into that my colleague got a text message saying the third meeting was going to have to be canceled due to an emergency at the clients’. Sometimes the universe listens to you.

The next day the fever persisted and I made the call to cancel the last of the three meetings for that day. After talking my way through the first two I was just checking email when I read a little note from the CEO of the agency that had created the slides for my keynotes two days ago. We had met in person at the YouTube event and she suggested I try out something different while I am in Buenos Aires. So she went out of her way and introduced me to Damian Huala, a Tibetan Sound Therapist! Since he only speaks Spanish and my Spanish is limited to five phrases she set up an appointment for me at his studio for a Tibetan Sound Massage on Saturday morning. It’s not like I was going to climb any mountains with my current condition so I said “yes” in a heartbeat!

What is a Tibetan Sound Massage you ask? It’s also called Tibetan Singing Bowls Massage and is based on principles from Ky Nyu, an ancient medical system. At the beginning of the treatment, three singing bowls (big brass bowls) are struck individually and are allowed to ring until the sound completely dissipates. To finish the treatment the singing bowls are placed on your back and legs and are struck in turn. It is thought that the vibrational energy from the bowls travels into your cells to promote healing from within.  Now for some of you this may sound like esoteric mumbo jumbo but this is every bit deeply rooted in science. Damian told me (entirely through Google Translate ;)) that the sound waves put you in a theta stage of sleep (stage 1 and 2 of sleep) where you are neither fully asleep nor fully awake. The vibrations of the sound through your body then help get rid of stress and toxins.

I walked out of Damian’s treatment like a completely new person. All the world’s weight I was carrying on my shoulders (almost figuratively) was lifted and for the first time in over a month I had full range of movement in my neck.

Hopefully, one day I can invite Damian to come practice his art in California. Until then, I have to listen more intently to what my body is telling me! As Papa Jain always says: “Jaan hai to Jahaan hai!”


Reenergizing Is The New Retiring

I sometimes wonder if the way we word concepts has to do with the way we feel about them or the way others make that concept look like. Take ‘falling in love’ for example. What part of the process suggests that one “falls” into love? Similarly, was “retiring” coined because most people that reached that stage of life were tired?

For many that may be true but for Barbie and Ken that term should be “reenergizing”! Barbie & Ken – no, not what you are thinking. Barbara and Ken are the incredibly warm and hospitable AirBnB hosts I stayed with in Oregon over this past Thanksgiving break. And before the next question pops up in your head, yes, these are their real names.

For most of us the most lasting memories of a trip are pictures we take or souvenirs we bring back but for me it’s often interactions I have with people I meet. Barbie & Ken have certainly left a lasting impression on me. They are a couple rounding up on retirement from their jobs in the U.S. Department of Agriculture and U.S. Military intelligence respectively with a beautiful house in Oregon where they have been hosting AirBnB guests for the past couple of years. Money is not the motivation. They do it because they like meeting new people and – more importantly – they are practicing and preparing for a beautiful “Reenergizement” in Sicily, Italy in 2020!

About 10 years ago Ken coincidentally happened to sit next to someone on a bus who was in the process of leaving the US to go back to his home country. That idea caught on to him and he came home excitedly to tell Barbie all he had learnt from the stranger on the bus. Their conversation led Barbie to research how hard it would be for her to apply for an Italian citizenship given both sides of her family were originally from Italy. After some digging around she found out she needed to procure some paperwork about her grandparents’ status as Italian citizens, their birth certificates, etc. to become Italian herself. Diligent as she is she traced back her family tree, met with her second cousins in Sicily and found everything she needed to finally become a citizen and also bestow that privilege upon her husband and son. On their visits to Sicily, Ken and Barbie fell in love with a little town by the beach and decided this is where they want to retire – no! scratch that – reenergize! They found a large property with a recently renovated, spacious house on it and bought that from the previous brother-sister duo owning it as part of an inheritance. It’s on an expansive land with parts of it containing old aqueducts built by the Greek, which Ken is eager to explore.

Now I should tell you that beyond having their day jobs both Ken & Barbie are people of multiple talents. Ken started his career being a gemstone dealer (yeah! speak of this being a small world for those of you who know my family history) then became a machine engineer, then an automobile engineer, taught himself programming, followed by a job in the US Military intelligence. He basically already lived five average people’s lifetimes in his one life and now he’s gearing up for his next adventure. Similarly, Barbie has some amazing life stories too, which I won’t share that many of because she may publish a book about it soon. Suffice to say she is the type of go-getter that appeared on the front page of the Wall Street Journal with a chicken under both her arms because she fought for a change in a city ordinance that now allows people in the City of Salem to keep hen in the backyard.

For their Golden Years these two have planned to proverbially live the life in Sicily running an AirBnB out of their newly acquired property and making it a place not only for people to stay but have full experiences. Barbie, an extraordinary cook, is planning to run Italian cooking classes. You should see her self-made giant binder of recipes, all neatly printed with step-by-step pictures and filed away by categories of food. I thought I was organized until I saw Barbie’s binder and learnt that she has a 100+ week plan in a spreadsheet leading up to their day of departure to Siciliy in 2020. I am still in awe!

While Barbie will be delighting her guests with authentic cooking classes and is going to teach English to locals, Ken’s geek mind is already planning how to run the entire property on self-built solar systems and irrigation power plants. He is going to teach local kids practical engineering. People who are apprehensive of immigrants should look at these two who are going to change the face of that little town for the better!

I got a little sneak peak of Barbie’s cooking classes when she taught me how to make fresh pasta from scratch one morning:


Barbie & Ken

We are all given this one life. To a large extent, with some variance, we are all equipped with the same start capital of a body and a brain. There is no blueprint of what each one of us is supposed to make of our lives. We are the architects left with ample of room to construct the following 70-80 years of our existence. How we spend our working years is a choice within constrains but it’s completely up to us if we work towards a reTIREment or a reENERGIZEment.

Thank you Barbie & Ken for showing me what living it up really means!

For It Is In Giving That We Receive

Every morning on my way to my glass-enclosed office facing the beautiful hills of Mountain View I walk through the snack kitchen area of my office floor. Be it 7.30 or 8 or 8.30am, there is always one person who is in the office before me every morning: Jason! He is a super friendly 20-something kitchen personnel who makes sure our snack kitchen is clean and stocked before most of our floor starts filling up. He is also the first person who greets me every morning with a big bright smile, chit chats about the weekend and often tells me how excited he is to play golf at Shoreline on the weekends where he works a second job and self-taught himself how to play golf over the years.

When I saw him last Wednesday he looked a bit sad so I asked if everything was alright.
After a bit of hesitation he confided in me that he has been very sick since Sunday with a stomach flu almost requiring a visit to the Emergency Room and he had to call in sick on Monday. He came in on Tuesday but had to be sent back home within 40 minutes because of his condition. As a vendor he only gets three paid sick days and he was worried he will get salary cuts for extra days off if his situation got any worse. I asked if he was taking any medicine and he replied he wasn’t able to keep any food down, including any medicine he took. The only thing that made him feel better was to take a hot shower which he couldn’t do for too long because he lived with his mother and she was worried about an increase in the water bill they may not be able to afford. This broke my heart!
A few weeks ago I had forwarded an email to him from the Google Golf Club that is organizing a highly discounted game for $132 at a course at Pebble Beach instead of the usual $800+ fee for that particular course. Ever since he has been telling me how excited he is about the opportunity to finally play golf at Pebble Beach but that day he told me he can’t participate anymore because he can’t afford the $132 fee right now. I saw a dream shattering right there!
I went back to my desk and wondered what I could do to help Jason and make it look like an expression of gratitude rather than an act of charity. All of my colleagues on my floor have been blessed with more material wealth than Jason, yet he showers us with his happy demeanor and friendly small talk every morning brightening up our days. So I sent out a note to my colleagues asking if anyone would like to contribute to make his “dream come true” by pooling $132 for his Pebble Beach green fee. No one was obligated to contribute as I was willing to cover the entire fee but I wanted to give everyone the chance to thank him and have this be a gift from all of us.
Within a few hours not only had my team collected over $350 but they had also flooded my inbox and dropped by my office with messages that warmed my heart like never before:
“You are so kind and sometimes it just takes one person to motivate others to action, which is what you did.  Hard to believe that one simple inquiry will have such a life lasting impact.”
“That was the sweetest and kindest gesture I’ve seen in a while. It is amazing and thank you for sharing that.”
” Aprajita, he is always the first one to say good morning to my dog and I and to offer me a sparkling water in the mornings as soon as I walk into our kitchen. I will be more than happy to contribute.”
“I keep getting amazed about the thoughtfulness of Googlers, another amazing example Aprajita! Count me in to help out.”
“I love Jason. Please let me know how I can send you the $. I’m also happy to contribute $ to help him get a new golf outfit or something!”
“What a thoughtful and generous idea, Aprajita! I love it, and count me in.”
“We should make sure he has enough for a nice lunch afterwards. I’m in for whatever it takes.”
I was completely overwhelmed by the generosity of everyone on the team and the goodness of the people I work with. Really, sometimes all it takes is noticing the small stuff, having open ears and taking the first step towards action.
I bought a card for Jason that same night, wrote a letter for him and requested everyone to sign it the next day:
On Friday morning I saw Jason bright and early in the office and asked him how he was doing. He was feeling better and this time I gave him the biggest smile I had to offer telling him our team had a surprise for him. I handed over the envelop with the card, letter and money to him:
The video ends abruptly because I received a big bear hug from Jason who was shaking and had tears in his eyes. So did I!
They say “For it is in giving that we receive.” Truer words have rarely been spoken.
Take the first step, the rest will fall in place.

Of Red Eyes and Hurt Noses

A few days ago I was taking a red eye flight from San Francisco to New York for a couple of days of work in the city that never sleeps. Little did I know that I wasn’t going to get any shut eye either – not only because I can’t sleep on planes, regardless of the time of day, but because this flight was going to be a – well – let’s say new kind of experience.

It was a Tuesday night. I had been warned that flights might get delayed out of SFO because God had decided to open the floodgates of rain on California and the state that has been in a drought for the past five years did not have a modern enough aviation system to deal with these weather conditions. My sister picked me up from a dinner wearing a pajama, evoking boundless jealousy in me, because all I wanted after a long day of work and socializing is a warm home with a soft couch, a fluffy blanket and me somewhere in between. Alas! On the way to the airport I remembered that I forgot to pack my toothbrush. Was it because of a piece of lemongrass that was stuck between my teeth that I started thinking of the most mundane of things on an exciting trip to NYC? Since we were a bit early I asked my sister if we could stop somewhere to drink a coffee and maybe buy a toothbrush. No chance! She was wearing booties underneath her PJ and refused to step out of the car. Drive through coffee? No, she thinks it is uncool to sit in a car in the rain with a drive through coffee…with me. Hmmmpf!

My otherwise just-in-time track record of getting to the airport was broken by this early arrival. Lo and behold, I was the only one in the security line and made it to the somewhat spookily empty gate area with almost two hours left on my hands. Instead of trying to find a toothbrush I got the ridiculously yummy hot chocolate from a gourmet shop across from my gate because I was a) freezing and b) thinking that the heat of the drink will help “melt” the lemongrass out from where it was stuck. It had been a long day, you know.

Despite the torrential downpour the flight was on time. I had no idea where all those people came from suddenly but the plane was chock-full. Luck and I have never been best of friends so I got a middle seat to add insult to injury.



Now I was fully expecting there to be a baby in my row or within a two row radius of mine. God bless the potential future Mom in me but I was really not prepared for a red-eye-middle-seat-middle-of-the-week flight with a crying baby anywhere near me. Fortunately, parents thought the same and there was no one under five feet anywhere in sight. Three minutes into settling into my seat – with my coat on to prevent hypothermia – my aisle seat neighbor showed up. She was an unsuspecting Asian girl (woman?) – I can never tell. As soon as she sat down and shoved her bag underneath the front seat I wrinkled my nose and started sniffing like a disturbed little puppy. I knew this smell! It’s all over San Francisco and near bridges in San Jose. Weed! OMG, weed! This woman’s bag was full of weed. I couldn’t stop wondering how she got through security with this. I know marijuana has been legalized in California but she was flying into New York and the nauseating smell told me this was more than just a little pack or two. I looked around and no one was even flinching. Why? I was about to pass out from this smell. There were no other seats empty and I couldn’t just have gone to the flight crew and told them to please change my seat because – uhm, eh, my neighbor brought on a bag full of weed on board and I was about to throw up from the smell. My six hour misery began. I started hallucinating – not sure if it was the fumes of the weed getting to me or the thought that I had three days of jam-packed work ahead of me with little prospect of sleep.

About halfway through the flight, awake like I have never felt before, I was staring at the blank screen in front of me on a plane that was darkened for people to fall asleep. Suddenly, I sensed a flicker of light hitting the side of my face and the smell of the weed being diluted with the smell of something else I was trying to recognize. An elderly, cute gentleman, clad in a lungi, a long white kurta, an Islamic prayer cap and a long bushy white beard was violently shaking his fist that was tightly clasping around what seemed to be a tiny little flashlight. mmHe must have gone to the bathroom and was now trying to find his way back to his seat not realizing he had way overshot his seat number and was now in the front of the plane. He was reeking of zarda. The smell was so strong that it woke up everyone in my vicinity and I saw more than a few worried faces when Uncle Zarda continued to pound his fist to get that flashlight battery to fall in place. I saw a woman quietly mouth the word “bomb” to her husband and I couldn’t help but laugh at the comedy of all of this. Or maybe it was just the potent mixture of the stomach churning smell of marijuana and zarda that was driving me nuts. Slowly but surely, after flashing at least five more people by accident Uncle Zarda made it back to his seat but left behind his cloud of sweet tobacco. That cocktail of smells must have woken up my window seat neighbor too – a very stylish, clearly NYC lady in her 70s, with white hair and as I found out instantaneously a runny nose. Now that she was up and awake she was snorting and thanks to a lack of tissues was “slurping” her runny nose “back in” every few seconds. I have no idea what the later is called. All I know is that it drives me baloni every time someone does it. If only I could have offered her a tissue. parachute_cartoonIn addition to my nostrils being filled with the the dry pissy smell of weed and the sweet minty smell of zarda for the next three hours I had to endure this constant intrusion of nerve-wrecking slurp. An out and out attack of terroristic proportions on my olfactory and auditory senses! My head was spinning and if I had had a parachute in that very moment I would have put it to use!


We landed half an hour earlier than planned and given the chance I would have kissed the pilot’s feet for freeing me from this narcotic hell.

Looks like I was not the only one dying to get off this metal bird. As soon as the door opened a stout little New York woman started yelling from three rows behind me to “get the f*** off the plane” at which point my neighbor, gangsta Asian lady, turned around and gave her the look of her lifetime.

Having lived in NYC for a while I knew not to take a cab into Manhattan at rush hour so I made my way to the Airtrain station with puffy eyes and an assaulted nose. The train doors were about to close as I got to the platform so I jumped in and sat down next to an African American family of three – father, mother and a pre-teen girl. The mother asked a question, the father answered and within seconds both of them were in each other’s hair arguing about who said what. Spying through a thick black NY accent I deciphered they were arguing about whose decision it was to get on the wrong Airtrain. We were on the train to Howard Beach, not to Jamaica. What?! I was sitting on the wrong train too! For the next 15 minutes I circled around the airport to get back to where I started from with a fighting African American couple next to me, each trying to be louder than the other. Who needs a Broadway show when you have drama everywhere in this city?

20 minutes later I was on the right train to Jamaica Station. I got off, took the elevator down to the subway and while I was trying to make sense of all that had happened in the past seven hours I smelled it again! That sweet minty smell. I turned around and Uncle Zarda was right behind me. What in the world are the chances that I would see him again – that too on a busy NYC Subway platform after making a 15 minute detour on the wrong train? This time Uncle Zarda was holding a little pink tamagotchi like device in his right hand and was clicking on a silver button every few seconds all while murmuring a prayer. Now I am not easily terrorized or influenced by stereotypes but I don’t know what bombs look like these days. All I remember are the oval looking dark green ones in old Shatrugan Sinha movies. Maybe their aesthetics have changed over the years?

The E train arrived and we all jumped into the same wagon. That zarda smell and my complete lack of sleep was now slowly putting out parts of my brain. 20 minutes later I saw Uncle Zarda deboard and I continued on my journey into Manhattan.

With black circles around red eyes and a traumatized nose I made my way to the most amazing shower I knew of in the NYC office and let the hot stream of water wash away the past night of travel.

Two Beacons Of The Future

Yesterday was the sixth and final activity of my year-long commitment to organize Gratitude & Giving Back events for my family and friends.

The New Year makes a lot of us set resolutions for the future, finding things we can do today to make our tomorrow better. One way it manifested for me was to find a way to connect two things that are true beacons of the future and help with a cause that supports both: a greener world for children! So this time I planned a volunteering activity at an Elementary School that needed trees to be planted around their campus.

It started with a very useful 15 minutes of instructions on how to plant a tree. Despite having helped my dad in our garden a handful of times I learnt quite a few tips and tricks, from digging the right size of hole, to creating a platform, “tickling” the roots, building a berm, installing posts, etc.


After the tutorial we went on to pick a whole slew of tools like shovels, gloves, posts, bands, support ledges, mattock and pick.


From here we went to find our marked spot near the playground and carried our 12 foot tree and mulch to the exact location where work was about to commence.

Now one may think that a rainy day and drenched soil may make it hard to spend the day outside planting a tree but it actually made it easier and much more fun (except that it was quite the act of heroism to clean our clothes and shoes afterwards). We had a blast measuring, digging, using all our strength all while listening to desi party music (thanks Anusha!). Driving the posts into the ground was the hardest part and with every pound I was in awe of how my dad does everything around our huge garden at home all by himself at the age of 64!

For Type A people like me a little competition adds a whole new level of motivation so it was even more fun that our playground area needed three trees and we were “competing” against two other groups that ended up being quite a bit slower than us. Girl power!

For those of you familiar with Aditi-isms, my sister had the brilliant idea of planting an apple tree – likely the only apple many kids will hold in their hands in the future unless we plant more real trees.


Knowing that one day this tree will carry a beautiful crown of colorful leaves, providing shade to children, likely oblivious of what went into getting it to spread its wings here brings a warm smile to our hearts.


After two hours of solid work, and leg , arm and back muscle toning we proudly named our tree “Baum” – the German word for tree. Here is a picture of Baum with Anusha, me, Kevin (our guide) and Aditi.


Our tree will grow to about 40 feet and will turn a beautiful red in the fall. We can’t wait to come back in a few years and check out Baum in all its glory!

Finding Order in Chaos

Two weekends ago six of us completed our 5th Gratitude & Giving Back activity.

It also happened to be the day our car was frontally hit by a large wooden plank driving down the freeway at the speed of 80 mph. Things could have ended really badly, forever altering the maps of our faces but I like to believe that someone is watching out for us and knew we were on our way to express Gratitude and Give Back. The plank damaged the entire front bumper, grills, fender, and other parts of the car leaving my Mom, my sister and me unscratched.

An incident like this would usually leave me very frazzled and cursing myself for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, today I chose to see the silver lining and thanked the power that is watching out for me for saving us from what could have been a much bigger tragedy. Sometimes, it only takes one right thought to find order within chaos.

But I digress…

We were on our way to the Gurdwara in San Jose to help with Sunday lunch Langar preparations. A Langar is a common kitchen run by the Sikh community to prepare and serve food to all visitors of the Gurdwara, without distinction of faith, religion or background, for free. On an average Sunday the San Jose Gurdwara serves lunch to 5,000 people and then some for dinner. The entire operation of the kitchen is run by volunteers making one think that it would be a hotbed for chaos. To the contrary – it’s the most beautiful and comforting example of order taking birth out of chaos.

Starting at 5am in the morning volunteers – many from the Sikh community but also general volunteers that just want to help – start showing up and without receiving a single direction make themselves useful in the kitchen wherever help is needed. No one tells you to roll out rotis, or peel onions, or cut vegetables, or wash and dry dishes. You just seamlessly plug into an activity where a helping hand is needed. We saw elderly people well in their 80s making rotis all the way to 10 year olds running between the dish washing and serving stations to take back washed plates.

It is nothing short of magical to be sitting in a circle and peeling onions with a group of total strangers, shedding tears, yet smiling because everyone is here not for themselves but to orchestrate something much bigger than an individual can ever fathom.

Right around noon an orderly line of colorfully clad worshippers entered the immaculately clean Langar hall, took a plate and walked past the food line to get served. Without many words being spoken there was a blanket of respect spanning the entire Langar hall. People only took as much as they could consume, they bowed in respect to the elders who served them and then took a seat on the long rows of carpets laid out for the diners.

Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures from the clockwork occurring inside the kitchen because, as intended, my hands were busy doing what I came to do but we took a picture outside of our group (minus one).

With the bottom of my heart, I thank all these lovely volunteers for joining me for yet another activity and expressing their Gratitude for all that we have. A special thanks to my Mom who had come all the way from Germany and after cooking delicacies for us every single day at home insisted on spending time with us at the Langar kitchen too!



Backstage at Baadal

What do you like most about working at Google?

  • The people
  • The culture
  • The innovation
  • Baadal

Yup, I’ve heard and said it all!

Baadal is our full-service on-campus Indian restaurant at Google’s Mountain View headquarters. Started a handful of years ago by Chef Irfan the torch has now been taken over by Chef Mahesh and Cafe Manager Carmelo Pullaro. And man are they apt at setting fire to your taste buds with their culinary skills!

A couple of weeks ago I was invited to a private lunch with the Chefs hosted by Chef Mahesh and his sous chef Francisco. As you may know Indians are know for their hospitality and walking into Baadal that day felt just like I am walking into someone’s home in India. The Chefs greeted us and sat us at a beautifully set table with crisp linen and shining stem wear. A party in our mouths awaited us! Just take a look at the menu:

20160803_113541 (1).jpg


We started with a feast for the tongue and the eyes alike. A lip-smacking dose of Strawberry Lassi,


followed by crispy and tangy Dhai Papdi Chat.


With out tummies half full we then gorged on delectable Kadai Paneer and Saffron Pulav.


No Indian meal ever ends without a dose of sweet somethings…in this case Bread ka Halwa that was so perfectly roasted to glory that I had a hard time parting with it.


I often post pictures of my Mom’s, sister’s and my own cooking but rarely do I talk about the love and labor it takes to get to the final products you see in the picture. The magic at Baadal also wouldn’t happen without the immaculate care the Baadal chefs put into their art. I got the rare opportunity to take a look behind the scenes:

Food safety and guest feedback is King, so much so that reminders are posted all over the walls to remind the Chefs of what makes their way to us Googler’s stomachs and then straight into our hearts.


For any of you that know me personally I am quite the clean freak but Baadal’s kitchen left even an approaching OCD like me spellbound by how sparkling neat and clean this place was.


Yeah, so clean that I had no problem letting my jaw drop to the ground!

In case you are wondering what makes Indian food so irresistibly mouthwatering it’s a cocktail of these carefully measured spices that goes into each dish:


Pictures speak a thousand words, just like these endless tubs of papad


but we at Google are numbers people at the core. So brace yourself because I learnt some pretty mind blowing stats about the number of mouths fed at Baadal every day and what it takes to do that:

  • Chef Mahesh, Sous Chef Francisco along with 7-8 line chefs, three receivers and one washer run the entire show.
  • On an average day they cook for 1,200 people culminating into Friday Biryani days with 2,000 guests.
  • On Paneer Tuesdays 240 pounds of paneer are ordered in to feed vegetarian and non-vegetarian Googlers alike.
  • Biryani Fridays call for 440 pounds of rice and about 400 pounds of chicken (ouch!).
  • 50-70 gallons of kewra chai smoothly flow down Googlers throats every day.

It would be an understatement to say that this is an incredibly well-run ship. I, and many Googlers, are grateful to the entire Baadal Team for not only making us not miss home but pampering us with the love and care we are used to from our parents in a land far far away from home.

Watch out, Bay Area! It won’t be long until Baadal tops the Bay Area Indian fine dining scene…in case it’s not already up there.