In outlook, right click on the folder you want to auto delete emails and select Properties.

Click the AutoArchive tab, and select the “Archive this folder using these settings:,” select how frequently you want to auto delete the contents of the folder. Next, select the “Permanently delete old items” radio button. Click Apply and Ok out.

That’s it! I told you it’s easy.

I use these settings on “Deleted Items” and “Sent Items”. One of my professors in College told me to delete old messages regularly, that way you can’t be blamed for purposly deleting email to cover yourself, etc.

The Information
Most, if not all, states have a department dedicated to insurance. On your state’s insurance department’s web site you should be able to find a wealth of information to help you choose an insurance carrier. Some states gather average premium amount data and put it all in a neat report for you to consider. Other states will give you what percentage of policy holders are with which carrier. It has been my experience that you can get lower premiums with the companies that have a lower percentage of the total policy holders. On these sites you will also find information about the terms that make up a policy. For example; do you know what your state minimum Bodily Injury Liability limits are and what exactly does “Bodily Injury Liability” mean? What’s the difference between full tort and limited tort and if your state defaults to full tort or not? This information can be found on your state’s Insurance web site.If you’re looking for auto insurance and want to get quotes from multiple companies and you are worried about the number of credit checks negatively impacting your credit score, you shouldn’t be. First off, the type of credit check done when looking for auto insurance is different from the check done to open a credit account. Second, multiple inquires, such as insurance quotes, done in a relatively short time span are understood to be for comparison shopping and not credit abuse. Last tip and possibly the most important… Once you have chosen the company you think you want to go with, call a personal injury/automobile accident attorney, need not be someone you know. Make sure you have   a paralegal/secretary/lawyer (don’t ask the receptionist) on the line and ask if the company you have chosen to do business with is a good insurance carrier; do they pay out quickly in the event of an accident. Some companies just have bad reputations in the legal world and the attorney will know this.

Some state insurance sites for reference:
New Jersey - http://www.state.nj.us/dobi/index.html
Pennsylvania - http://www.ins.state.pa.us/ins/cwp/view.asp?a=1339&Q=544190&PM=1
Maine - http://maine.gov/pfr/insurance/license_search.htm
Delaware - http://www.delawareinsurance.gov/
Ney York - http://www.ins.state.ny.us/ 

The Last Wish

One year ago we joined a new college.
To earn few penny and gain some knowledge.
Afar from home in the cold chilly weather
At heaven of Mysore we all got together.

The morning rush with the roommate
Racing the cycle for not getting late
The torture started at the strike of nine
We survived by keeping messenger online

The afternoon session was really an overkill
Since Mysore food was indeed a sleeping pill
Submitting the assignments was a total waste
As we followed the magic trick of copy-paste.

The junk forwards continued to flow
We waited whole week for the new movie show
Along with friends when everything was quiet
We roamed around the campus till the late night.

The modules and compre didn’t let us sleep
Some cleared away while others had to weep
Results came out, no more hosting
We had to leave, as per the posting.

Battle for swap then began soon
Mailboxes spammed by every goon
Giving last look to the gratifying paradise
The Infy guests left with the watery eyes.

We all settled down in the different places
Though memories of Mysore left in the traces.
New friends and colleagues now we have made
The old intimacy is slowly going fade

An year gone by since we had a start
Moments of past is stirring my heart
In the noisy world today am losing my mind
The last wish I make, if time could rewind.

I just got out of the screening of “A Mighty Heart”, a terrifyingly movie based off of the book “A Mighty Heart: The Brave Life and Death of My Husband Danny Pearl” witten by Mariane Pearl.  The plot outline is as follows:

On January 23, 2002, Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl is to fly from Karachi to Dubai with his pregnant wife, Mariane, also a reporter. On the day before, with great care, he has arranged an interview in a café with an Islamic fundamentalist cleric. When Danny doesn’t return, Mariane initiates a search. Pakistani police, American embassy personnel, and the FBI examine witnesses, phone records, e-mails, and hard drives. Who has him? Where is he? There’s also the why: because of U.S. abuse of prisoners at Guantanimo, because of a history of Journal cooperation with the CIA, because Pearl is a Jew? Through it all, Mariane is clearheaded, direct, and determined.

I thought the movie to be incredibly moving. I don’t know what works better, a good true stroy film as such or terrorism. Being so close to the setting of this film worrys me. It made me think of all the suspicious people I have run across since I have been in Mysore. It made me feel as if at any moment I can be taken off the streets and transported to an undisclosed location for turtoring and ultimately death. It was interesting to be able to relate to some of the sceens which took place in Mumbai, India. For example in one of Mariane’s flashbacks of Danny, they were on a boat in Mumbai near the Gateway to India with the Taj Hotel in the background; I recall being in the same location.

We left Mysore on Thursday at 10:30am to get to the bus station by 11am. Our flight wasn’t until 5:50pm but we wanted to get to the bus station as early as possible just in case of any delays. As soon as we got to the Bus station there was a Super Deluxe A/C Volvo bus heading out (All those adjectives are meaningless, the more adjectives, the more you have to pay). We paid our dues and hopped on the bus. I had to work hard to get Luke Harry Oliver Forester, My friend and colleague who took this journey with me, to take the bus. He is a firm believer in the BIT (cab) company. However with our bank accounts low and the trip to Delhi ahead of us we needed to conserve. The BIT cab would have been Rs. 2000, the bus however was Rs. 190 each; a great bargain in comparison to the cab fair. We arrive in Bangalore about three hours later, the standard time it takes to get to Bangalore. Its 2 o’clock and we were hungry, so we went to one of the restaurants we know in Bangalore, Millers 46. Our plan was simple; we would eat for an hour or so, take a rickshaw to the outlet stores next to the airport, then take a rickshaw to the airport when the time came. Well we were in for a surprise when Luke’s cell phone started buzzing. It was spice jet, the airlines we were flying on, the flight was delayed an hour. Great gave us more time.

Everything went as planned. We went shopping. When we found out it would only be 18 degrees Celsius or 64 degrees Fahrenheit we both decided to invest in a sweater. 64 degrees may not be that bad, however, when you are used to 80+ a sweater may be in line, besides who knows if the temp may drop while up there. We were done our shopping and on the way to the airport another text message came in, the flight delayed another fifteen minutes. We pulled up to the gate, checked in and passed security. While waiting for our flight, the delays kept on coming in. By the time we finally got on the flight it was around 7:30.

We were heading to Delhi and that is what our ticket said, so when the captain came on the loudspeaker and said “Welcome aboard flight number ### non-stop to Pune”, naturally we were a little worried. Did we get on the wrong flight? Nah, a simple inquiry yielded the answer, a stop in Pune along the way. I diligently read my book during the flight and was able to finish the book. A few weeks ago, I picked up 4 books from the campus book store and told myself these books should last me until I leave. Well with this book finished, I only had one more to read. Time to step into yet another book store.

Once we landed that is exactly what I did, however due to time restriction, I was unable to pick out a book. I am one of those types who like to look around take in all I can about the books I am interested in and make a decision. I am not an impulsive book buyer, unless the books are textbooks, and that is a different story.

Finally we were in Delhi, we gave a call to our friend we were staying with. He instructed us to go to the prepaid taxi stand. By this time it was about 12am. About 15 to 20 minutes later we arrived at Siddharth’s Uncles house. It was beautiful. Gated, in a nice neighborhood with a small lawn in front. A small lawn in front is worth the same if not more then green in New York City so I knew his uncle was no joke. Everyone was sleeping, we would have to save introductions until the next day, but we needed to wait for our other friends flying in from Hyderabad. They’re flight was delayed too, to 12am. They’re flight was only 2 hours and it would be no time at all before they arrived.

Once Tom Stapleton and Louis Fernando Lafratta made it to Sid’s uncle’s house. We talked for a little while and then went right to bed. Rightfully so at 3am, all taken flights, we were all tired. We each got our own room except for Tom and Luke which slept in the same room. The next day was Friday the 9^th which also happened to be Diwali, an Indian holiday which you can find more information about HERE. This was one of the highlights of the trip, experiencing a big Indian holiday in the Country’s capital city. During the day we went to one of the biggest malls in India. Each mall I see gets bigger and bigger, I swear. This one was huge. I have seen a trend in India with malls. They seem to be more tall then those in America and less spread out. I am not sure if it has anything to do with land costs or not but this one was not only multistory, it was also spread out. At the entrance the guards wouldn’t let us in because the mall was closing at 4 for Diwali and it was 4:02 – go figure. That is how it has been in India. No exceptions, not unless you bribe. We even pulled the “we came here all the way from America to see this mall” card, It didn’t work. We stepped back, gained momentum and stormed in with another set of people. Not that we bum rushed the gate, it was just that there were so many people trying to get in at once that the guards couldn’t do anything. Yes, we got in. We knew our time was limited. It was closing time, but what the hell. We really just wanted to check out the inside anyway.

Shorly after about 4:45 we left, we needed to get back for dinner and prayers by 6:30pm. On the way back from the mall we stopped off at a Fireworks stand. Sid’s uncle said he got some fireworks, but we wanted some of our own so we could set them off without guilt. I bought two packs of bombs (that is what they are called here. They just explode, you know, big bang, flash of light). Louis, better known as Fernando, got a mortar and Luke bought some bottle rockets.

There were candles were all over the place. Diwali is sometimes known as the festival of lights because all of the candles you light. And by candles I mean small clay decorative bowls filled with oil with a wick running from the bottom of the bowl to a little lip on the top. Flower petals were laid throughout the hose, it was all very nice. The family gathered around pictures and statues of Gods and started to hum, sing, and chant prayers in Hindi. In a way to me, minus the “Gods,” it was similar to the last night of Chanukah: a lot of candles and prayer singing in a language unknown to me with the family. The prayers didn’t last too long and all of the Americans took a back seat in the ceremony. After the prayers were finished, Sid’s uncle went around the room and tied a string around our wrists four times, signifying the completion of the prayer for the Diwali.

The food that night was awesome. We ate at Sid’s house, the meal: cooked by his Uncle’s staff; the food: the best Indian food thus far. I think I was the only one (of the Americans) who thought so, but that is because I am the only one that eats Indian food on a regular basis. The rest of them eat as much American food, i.e. Dominos and Sub Way, as possible. This is not only against my beliefs when traveling to a foreign country (must eat the local food), but it also becomes very costly. The prices are the same as they are in America maybe a 10% discount, however, you must remember we are getting paid an Indian salary. So the “American” food is relatively expensive. I can get more then enough food to stuff me for Rs. 30 where as a 6” sub from Sub Way would cost you around Rs. 100. At any rate the food at Sid’s house was amazing.

  (the haze from the fireworks was so thick, it made this photo foggy)

That night we had decided to go out to a club. The others thought that the clubs would be packed. I, however, didn’t think so after what happened to us in Mumbai. Indians seem to rather stay in with family during holidays or have house parties instead of going out. Our mistake for going out, I was right, there was nothing open. It was like chasing a person who was always one step ahead of us. At each club, they were either already closed or about to close. Each club also led us to another one that may still be open. Finally we settled for the lounge/bar in the Taj Hotel called Rick’s. The drinks here were modestly priced considering we were drinking in a 5 star hotel.

Ha, one part of the night I left out was the firing of the fireworks. After prayer, and dinner, everyone gathered outside to set off the fireworks we bought that day. It was fun. For a moment, I was a little kid again with a sparkle in my eye. Loud noises all around me, flashing lights, the anticipation of the fuse to burn. It was great. I was watching the others light off their fireworks, I was having fun just doing that, however, I wanted, needed more. I opened my pack of fireworks to start setting them off. I went for the bigger ones first. They were the size of an overgrown walnut. I had no clue what the heck they would do. Most of the time the fireworks you buy don’t do anything spectacular and you are let down. With that in mind, I was to light the long wick of this firework. I wasn’t afraid; I am a grown man who has survived many of July 4 firework displays. Yet I always came short of lighting off fireworks myself. I guess I blame the overly protective parents for that. My time has come. I had it all planned out. I would light the wick and throw it as fast as I could, like I did with the little red ones, and watch the show. I crouched over with the giant bomb in my hand between my ring, middle, and pointer finger and thumb, proceeded to light the fuse from the oil candle on the ground. The fuse was lit. The speed at which the fuse was burning surprised me. I had to get this bomb out of my hand. I went to throw it. As I looked up all I could see around me were people and cars. If I threw it at a car, I could cause property damage beyond my means to repair them. If I threw it in the crowd of people I could cause harm to someone, something I could not do. But in that split second, maybe even millisecond, of hesitation, the fuse had reached the bomb and it exploded in my hand. My instincts kicked in and without thinking I turned my head, closed my eyes and held out my hand. BANG!! The next thing I know my body made a 180 turn, my left hand grasping the right and crouched over screaming. My eyes still shut; I could have sworn I just ended my career as a Software Engineer with three blown off fingertips and worse a deaf right ear (which all I could hear was a loud ring, all other background noise came from my left ear). I fearfully opened my eyes to access the damage of my hand. Whew… fingers still in tact. Red hot, but in tact. People rushing to me to find out what happened, Sid’s uncle knew exactly what happened and directed me to the kitchen to cool off my fingers. My heart was racing worried still that I had lost the hearing out of, what was my, good right ear. Five minutes later, with numb finger tips, I return to the crowed outside. Obviously, I was not to set off any more fireworks. Later someone else lit off the same bomb I had set off with a slower burning tip on it, only to be amazed at the magnitude of the explosion. All were amazed one of that size blew up in my hand with seemingly no damage to me.

Ok, now back to the Rick’s lunge in the Taj hotel. We sat down in the center of the lounge (my hearing a lot better). But every time Sid talked I swore I heard an echo of sorts. I asked Fernando besides me if he heard the same echo. He denied it. I was scared because when something of this nature happens to me, it sparks off a panic/anxiety attack. Everytime my senses sense one thing and then after a short delay sense another it sets off an anxiety attack. For example, a long time ago, I moved my arm, but only after a short delay did I actually see my arm move, I started to panic. This triggered a panic/anxiety attack. This attack caused me to look into what happened to me and I narrowed it down to a panic/anxiety attacks. So back to the Taj, I was panicking. Of course the worrying of a potential panic attack also helps set off an attack. I had to get out of there. I took my drink to the bar, asked for a glass of water and excused myself to the bathroom to splash my face with water. The result was a slower heart beat and a much calmer, confident Victor. The attack lost its potential and did not occur that night. Thank goodness, I hate panic attacks, who doesn’t?

The next day we got up at 5:30am to start our trip to the Taj Mahal. Not much happened along the way. We were all very tired from a late night of chasing closing bars. The first place we went to was Fatehpur Sirri (tomb of Salim Christi). On the outside, this building was fascinating. Many steps led up to the “gate,” which was a huge stone structure. Inside the gate surrounded by a large wall was the mausoleum where the remains of Saint Salim Christi lie underneath. Beautiful architecture and art can be seen from all angles of this fort.

It didn’t take long for us to get out of the fort. We were anxious to get to the Taj Mahal., the crown jewel of India, the 7^th wonder of the world. The elegant mathematic symmetry and symmetric world of architecture intertwines with its breathtakingly beauty and symbolism of love to create the most extravagant structure ever erected for a woman – loved and cherished.

Our driver dropped us off as close as his car could reasonably reach, then from there we took a cheap rickshaw ride. Agra is not known for it’s hospitality towards relatively loaded foreigners if you know what I mean. So when the Rickshaw driver made a few unexpected stops looking for someone else, naturally we were a little nervous. All we could do was rush the driver. At every stop he made, we yelled commands like, chello – lets go; jeldie – quickly; and fatafat – hurry up. Eventually, we safely made it to the entrance gates of the Taj Mahal. Immediately we recognized a few colleagues who informed us of the situation. It wasn’t looking good for our strict time schedule. The line was 3 hours long. We only had 1.5 – 2 at the most, but they were testing the service of a paid accomplice who said he could get us inside instantly. As time ticked away, my group couldn’t afford to waste anymore time and decided to go ahead with the deal. The tickets to get in for the Indian natives was only Rs. 20, roughly $0.50. The tickets for foreigners, however, was a gouging Rs. 750 or $19.75. It is amazing that they can get away with such clear undeniable discrimination. That wasn’t all, the guy helping us out, escorted us in past the guards, then once inside demanded a kickback. This is how this guy makes his money and he did cut the line from 3 hours for us to less than 5 minutes. Rs. 1000 for all five of us. If you ask me, we grossly overpaid the man. Think of it this way, he got paid more then one days salary for a highly educated and trained software engineer. For what, helping us cut in line? I could have paid a guy in line 100 for the same effect.

Ok, we were in…

In the back of my mind before this trip was planned, I knew I had to go to the Taj Mahal. I kept saying to myself that I would be a failure in life if I went to India for 6 months and didn’t see the Taj Mahal. I kept delaying the inevitable, putting off the trip for one bad reason or another. But once I saw the Taj Mahal with live and in the flesh, my previous feeling of needing to see it was confirmed. The elegance in the white marble inlaid with precious stones from around the world, second to none. My overall experience at the Taj Mahal was obviously amazing. There was something there that I felt as soon as I saw the Taj Mahal through the arched doorway at the gate, my adrenalin spiked. I know that I will never forget my visit to the Taj.

[my family at the Taj Mahal with me ]

Pizza was waiting for us when we returned to Sid’s house. We had to eat quickly in order to make it out to the clubs. We had not time to pre-game, just shower, change, and leave. It was our decision to go to TabulaRusa, a high end, “A” list club. In order to get in, we split our group into two, 5 stags trying to get into a club won’t happen. We meet up on the roof top lounge at the far table and don’t hesitate to start ordering drinks. These drinks were really expensive. Rs. 450 at least each mixed drink, Rs. 300 for a 330ml bottle of beer. Ridiculous. We ordered and drank as if it didn’t matter anyway. I was having fun and started to feel a buzz when Sid’s uncle showed up. He ordered a few drinks and asked for the bill. He had paid for our drinking tab which was in excess of Rs. 9000 or $236. He was being overly generous. Looking back on it now, I don’t know where the time went. All I remember is drinking excessively, no memory of time, just empty glasses.

The next day Sid, our guest, had to fly back to Bangalore, but our flights weren’t until Monday. So we all woke up with Sid and wished him a good flight back and he in turn recommended places to see and eat for the day. The first place we went to was the 5 star Imperial Hotel for Lunch. This was the most impressive buffet spread I have seen in India. It included sushi, Kobe Beef, cheese, fish, pasta, and more. This place was no joke at Rs. 2100 per head.

Then we were suggested to see the government buildings. They really resembled buildings from Washington, D.C. They even have a reflection pond. The only difference was there was a guy washing his cloths in the brown water of this “reflection” pond. We stopped to walk around a little bit and witnessed their naval band during a concert.

It didn’t take long for us to get bored and we headed back to Sid’s house. There we just hung out until dinner time, when we proceeded to Shalom, a middle eastern restaurant. The food here was amazing. They had tahini paste, hummus, babaganoosh, and tabouli: all of my favorites. To say the least I enjoyed it.

Monday was short. We went to the Intercontinental The Grand for breakfast, yet another 5 star hotel. The breakfast buffet at this restaurant was by far the best breakfast I have had in India. My omelet with salmon was amazing, so was my waffle, fruit, cheese (a delicacy in India), and other food I ate. We were in a little of a hurry because Luke and my flight was for the after noon and we wanted to see the “underground” market.

We got out of there as quickly as we could and went straight to the underground market. I thought the market was called that because they sold fake Rolexes and Gucci bags, but I was wrong. The whole market was actually underground. We only had an half hour to look around. I wish we had more time because there was some pretty neat stuff there that I could have picked up for gifts. The market was huge and in a hub and spoke design. Not the best design if you are looking for someone. I lost Luke. I ran around the place like a mad man trying to find him. I thought for sure we would be late for our flight. I finally found him, said our goodbyes to Fernando and Tom, and left for the airport.