So yeah. My blog's been down on the activity for a good amount of time now. Why, you ask? Well, large number of reasons, least of them not being the summer placements. That got over, and of course the post placement euphoria studded with trips to Mysore and Wonderla. And now life's back to normal. A life studded with minor yet significant events. A life that's a roller coaster and full of colors - all you need to do is to keep your eyes open and see the colors rush past you.
We are, at the outset, students. Why do we study? To gain the oft-quoted highly priced and respected knowledge. We work hard for entrance exams, and in our enthusiasm, do courses that claim to give us value addition. We continue to work hard,and strive for figures that exalted masters consider apt descriptions of our calibre and greatness. We sit through assignments and submissions that make us not just reflect on the subject that we study, but on how well our co-students are able to understand the same.
Where does this come from, the strange nature of this quest? Why do we always compare ourselves? Why is it that every time we run a race, we need to have people lose to us? What is victory? What is failure? Why is it that we do not satisfice even when we perform to our best, but we are exhilarated when we beat our competitors even at the cost of underperforming? Is that the reason we are here? To beat people and feel happy about it?
The road doesn't end here. It doesn't stop at scoring marks, scoring grades, securing jobs or even securing promotions for that matter. It's like an endless path, a maze, a craze. Sometimes you do well - you're in form. But sometimes, you don't. And what happens then? You cry. You fall down into the scum of the earth and wish you could bury yourself lower. A friend of mine had a quote to say that I found interesting - "I love walking in the rain because no one can see I'm crying." That's how it feels to be on the receiving end.
And so the road carries. The infection spreads from career to every other sanctified and revered walk of life we may have - friendships, relations, even our own selves. It happens all the time. You help your friends make up after a stupid fight, and suddenly now you're feeling left out and lonely as they're all over each other. You sit in a team of people with a common aim, a common goal - and the filthy head of what some of us call ego rises. Sometimes you even try to be the bigger and better person - a so called domination of the angel over the devil in you. And when that happens you feel cheated, unjustly treated - by the fact that you don't get paid for what you've fought.
We dream of success, of love, of friendship. We wish for a Utopian world where all and sundry are good and kind. And yet to achieve this end, we are ready to sacrifice all notions of fraternity and friendship - a paradox in itself. We dream, hope, pray. Who we ask, from the world of strangers we meet on the way will hold our hand, drag us out from this mire, and redeem us.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Summers in Winter
I'm back. Back after a long time - I should say. And in the meantime, life hasn't exactly been a roll...Though one of the pluses I can derive from this break is that my blogging loyalties were pledged elsewhere - click here to see that. And all for a free T-shirt and some very informative and entertaining events at the B-school to be!
So what's new?
Term -I at IIM Bangalore came to a rollicking finish - perhaps what was most intriguing was the intensity of emotion while bidding our friends adieu for a miserly one week vacation home. Speaks volumes about the kind of bonding that the pressure and work here can create. Term - I results? Don't even think about it - don't know, can't say - think of it as the proverbial phi in the Karnaugh map.
Term-II at IIM Bangalore began with a bang, with the enthusiasm for summers preparation overflowing. All you here these days is "Yaar, consults ki prep kase karoon", "Chal be case karte hain", "Acads ko maaro goli, summers aur ppo maaro, phir aish karte hain", and many more similar dialogues that would have put Jai-Veeru to shame. Needless to say, similar taunts populate the information highway on the intra chatting client.
Of course -there's been the intermediate relief - the relieving sunshine that peeks through the clouds to smile and ask you to make hay before it rains again. Foundation day happened and was a lot of fun - with the entire music band performing impromptu - and doing a good job too. Vista, needless to say, was its usual self with tremendous footfalls and amazing talent on campus.
But back to the summer of '07, and we realize how much we've changed over the past few days. Most of us have doubled up our typing skills writing about ourselves and editing our resumes. It's been amazing the way we've learned to check out a company, see its values and traditions and do a research on it in five minutes flat. With the horde of resume submissions to do, and company presentations to attend, it would be a lie to say that life is relaxed. But it's been memorable.
So long, see ya.
PS: Incidentally, some people were curious about "that Ecstasy thingy" - :P so here are the links of the youtube videos of our music band playing for those who're interested.
FUSION
SAYONEE
KANDISA
So what's new?
Term -I at IIM Bangalore came to a rollicking finish - perhaps what was most intriguing was the intensity of emotion while bidding our friends adieu for a miserly one week vacation home. Speaks volumes about the kind of bonding that the pressure and work here can create. Term - I results? Don't even think about it - don't know, can't say - think of it as the proverbial phi in the Karnaugh map.
Term-II at IIM Bangalore began with a bang, with the enthusiasm for summers preparation overflowing. All you here these days is "Yaar, consults ki prep kase karoon", "Chal be case karte hain", "Acads ko maaro goli, summers aur ppo maaro, phir aish karte hain", and many more similar dialogues that would have put Jai-Veeru to shame. Needless to say, similar taunts populate the information highway on the intra chatting client.
Of course -there's been the intermediate relief - the relieving sunshine that peeks through the clouds to smile and ask you to make hay before it rains again. Foundation day happened and was a lot of fun - with the entire music band performing impromptu - and doing a good job too. Vista, needless to say, was its usual self with tremendous footfalls and amazing talent on campus.
But back to the summer of '07, and we realize how much we've changed over the past few days. Most of us have doubled up our typing skills writing about ourselves and editing our resumes. It's been amazing the way we've learned to check out a company, see its values and traditions and do a research on it in five minutes flat. With the horde of resume submissions to do, and company presentations to attend, it would be a lie to say that life is relaxed. But it's been memorable.
So long, see ya.
PS: Incidentally, some people were curious about "that Ecstasy thingy" - :P so here are the links of the youtube videos of our music band playing for those who're interested.
FUSION
SAYONEE
KANDISA
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Weekend cries !
And finally Friday ended. Not the way I would have liked to, but it did end ! Friday's always a welcome day at B-school, albeit different reasons for different people. Some like to hang out with their friends, having escaped from the rigors of an 8.00 am submission the next day. Some like to study the week's portions, anticipating a test the next week. Some people are still more paranoid, studying the next week's portions ahead of schedule, so as to be prepared for a test in the next-to-next week.
And there are people like me. Who dread the next morning's exam on managerial communication, and who do not neglect its importance because, after all, it's a two - credit course.
Not because we're overly bothered about topping the class. But just because this is our last attempt to salvage pride. Pride of being in B-school, pride of clearing CAT, pride of a thousand things. So the Friday goes off, fairly unproductive, save mugging the format of a business proposal (if I remember, the text's exact words were - "Though the importance of marriage/divorce proposals cannot be undermined, the textbook shall limit its scope to academic and business proposals. ")
Saturday morning. I wake up to the sound of the paper dropping on my doorstep. And to the stifling odor of Good-night spreading through the fan-less room slaughtering a thousand mosquitoes in its wake. So much for all the malarial paranoia. In all earnestness, I wipe my whiteboard clean and write down all that's pending over the term. All submissions, tests, exams. Even the biz-fest events that I've committed to participate in, God only knows why. I sit back with a smile, not unlike the way Saif Ali Khan sits watching his dad and sis's pictures on a wall coated with Asian paints. (that's a popular Indian ad for those who are still wondering if I've gone nuts).
Then I suddenly remember that the exam's at 2.00 pm and sit down to study. Reminders of how I used to practice "Formal Letter" and "Informal letter" in class VI come flowing in. Why, oh why, is it so hard now ? It used to be so unbelievably easy back then. English was a subject that made you earn brownie marks and raise your average if you did badly in Social studies or something. Now, it's the other way round.
Amid such thoughts, and more, I manage to complete the exam. We receive our feedback at the end of the exam, and a chilling shudder goes up the spine of men who hitherto considered themselves gods. Some people did badly. Some did worse. But the chosen few, who did cross 70, jumped their way back to the hostel. And I, was not among them. Yet another "Aam aadmi" exam.
Saturday night ends on the same ambitious note as the morning began. Only this time, the list on the whiteboard gets longer, as your neighbors ungenerously remind you that you've overlooked three or four tests and the resume verification due next week.
Sunday morning finally arrives. It's probably a time for celebration, you think. But with the grim feeling that the grades dished out the previous day, you decide that the final presentation in Managerial communication that is due Tuesday, deserves more respect and effort than you envisaged it would. Especially since it's now your only chance to gain any leeway in this subject, and all your life you've claimed to have the proverbial gift of the gab. A line from "Snapshots from Hell" comes to mind - "Strangle weaknesses. Strengthen opportunities."
And then Parkinson's law takes its toll. Work expands to fill the time available to complete it. You never know how time flies. It's 2.30 pm, you've missed lunch because your friends tell you the food in the mess is pathetic, and anyway there's just too much rush with all the exchange foreigners coming in. So we order food from outside, and somehow you're never happy with the quality of the food. The grass, as they say, is always greener on the other side of the fence.
You return to your desk to find that your presentation is nowhere near completion. An exaggerated sense of urgency grips you, and your fingers tap away on the laptop till they're comfortably numb. Finally at around 10 pm, the P.P.T.'s done, and you lean back with a sense of accomplishment. "Substantial", as my neighbor would call it. You turn around, and you see the whiteboard in a position where you can rub nothing off your list. The same list that gave you pride and inspiration last morning, now gives you a sense of revulsion mixed with cynical philosophy. Stomach wildly heavy with the naans and rotis that you hogged for lunch, you just crash onto the bed, with nothing to fight for.
Monday morning arrives, and you realize you're no better off than Friday. If anything, you're probably worse off. If you've honestly been reading this putting yourself in my shoes whenever I wrote 'you' instead of 'I' or 'me', you'll understand what a weekend at B-school is.
Unenviable, says Collins, is the right word.
And there are people like me. Who dread the next morning's exam on managerial communication, and who do not neglect its importance because, after all, it's a two - credit course.
Not because we're overly bothered about topping the class. But just because this is our last attempt to salvage pride. Pride of being in B-school, pride of clearing CAT, pride of a thousand things. So the Friday goes off, fairly unproductive, save mugging the format of a business proposal (if I remember, the text's exact words were - "Though the importance of marriage/divorce proposals cannot be undermined, the textbook shall limit its scope to academic and business proposals. ")
Saturday morning. I wake up to the sound of the paper dropping on my doorstep. And to the stifling odor of Good-night spreading through the fan-less room slaughtering a thousand mosquitoes in its wake. So much for all the malarial paranoia. In all earnestness, I wipe my whiteboard clean and write down all that's pending over the term. All submissions, tests, exams. Even the biz-fest events that I've committed to participate in, God only knows why. I sit back with a smile, not unlike the way Saif Ali Khan sits watching his dad and sis's pictures on a wall coated with Asian paints. (that's a popular Indian ad for those who are still wondering if I've gone nuts).
Then I suddenly remember that the exam's at 2.00 pm and sit down to study. Reminders of how I used to practice "Formal Letter" and "Informal letter" in class VI come flowing in. Why, oh why, is it so hard now ? It used to be so unbelievably easy back then. English was a subject that made you earn brownie marks and raise your average if you did badly in Social studies or something. Now, it's the other way round.
Amid such thoughts, and more, I manage to complete the exam. We receive our feedback at the end of the exam, and a chilling shudder goes up the spine of men who hitherto considered themselves gods. Some people did badly. Some did worse. But the chosen few, who did cross 70, jumped their way back to the hostel. And I, was not among them. Yet another "Aam aadmi" exam.
Saturday night ends on the same ambitious note as the morning began. Only this time, the list on the whiteboard gets longer, as your neighbors ungenerously remind you that you've overlooked three or four tests and the resume verification due next week.
Sunday morning finally arrives. It's probably a time for celebration, you think. But with the grim feeling that the grades dished out the previous day, you decide that the final presentation in Managerial communication that is due Tuesday, deserves more respect and effort than you envisaged it would. Especially since it's now your only chance to gain any leeway in this subject, and all your life you've claimed to have the proverbial gift of the gab. A line from "Snapshots from Hell" comes to mind - "Strangle weaknesses. Strengthen opportunities."
And then Parkinson's law takes its toll. Work expands to fill the time available to complete it. You never know how time flies. It's 2.30 pm, you've missed lunch because your friends tell you the food in the mess is pathetic, and anyway there's just too much rush with all the exchange foreigners coming in. So we order food from outside, and somehow you're never happy with the quality of the food. The grass, as they say, is always greener on the other side of the fence.
You return to your desk to find that your presentation is nowhere near completion. An exaggerated sense of urgency grips you, and your fingers tap away on the laptop till they're comfortably numb. Finally at around 10 pm, the P.P.T.'s done, and you lean back with a sense of accomplishment. "Substantial", as my neighbor would call it. You turn around, and you see the whiteboard in a position where you can rub nothing off your list. The same list that gave you pride and inspiration last morning, now gives you a sense of revulsion mixed with cynical philosophy. Stomach wildly heavy with the naans and rotis that you hogged for lunch, you just crash onto the bed, with nothing to fight for.
Monday morning arrives, and you realize you're no better off than Friday. If anything, you're probably worse off. If you've honestly been reading this putting yourself in my shoes whenever I wrote 'you' instead of 'I' or 'me', you'll understand what a weekend at B-school is.
Unenviable, says Collins, is the right word.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Humiliation
So I'm sitting in my class at IIMB, feeling smug seeing my nameplate on my desk - it's actually got my name and roll number on it - and basking in the glory that is IIMB. Basking in the knowledge that this was what a 2 lakh people wrote CAT for, and this is fun...being here, doing this.
And of course, I'm totally oblivious to what the prof's saying - something about Greiner's model of organizations' birth and death. Ughh...it's irritating sitting in a class like this full of inactivity and not doing anything save listen. So I took this pic. You can't see me, of course, but you can see how most of the class is dozing off. You can also see my yellow highlighter on the table and that's there because I wasn't using it; so my neighbour decided he would play with it. Fine. So much for a regular class.
Out of the blue, the lights go out, and there's this wonderful movie that our professor plays about Aravind Eye Hospital in Madurai and how they're creating waves with the good work that they do. The video is moving and inspirational. My friend remarks, why can't such movies hit Inox instead of flicks like Chak De. Yeah, interesting, I think. Get SRK to be a doc, and 16 nurses, and bam! you have a blockbuster. Some movie, huh?
Anyway, so the movie's over, and everyone is visibly moved including the prof, and so we go on to the rest of the lecture. It's what follows that probably made this one of my most memorable lectures; I just hope I remember it for all the right reasons. (italics reflect my thoughts)
Prof: So what happens in an organization when you get a fresh set of employees or people and make them adjust to the vision of the company.
Me: Does the fresher really have a choice? Hell, he wouldn't paid if he didn't stick by the company. So he'd work, what else?
Prof: This is probably best studied in light of the IIMs themselves. Now apparently, this top level institute in India (I'm not taking names, so that SMC can't sue me for being politically incorrect) follows a process called Unfreezing, Change and Refreezing. Unfreezing is the most painful process of the three. You guys come as cool cats, with the mentality that you've done it all. And so you're hardly ready to learn anything, let alone get transformed into something greater.
Me: For the first time in an MO lecture, I'm actually attentive. Hell, this guy seems to be speaking to me!!!
Prof:And so, the first term is deliberately made so hard, with so much workload that even the best of students can humanly not cope with it. And say by the end of term, you actually start questioning your own abilities.
Precisely what we freshers were bitching about last night in the Dukh Baanto session in my room. Oh, for crying out loud!!!
Prof: And the system makes sure that even the best of students ends up with at least a couple of D's. By when the student is brought down to his knees, and he actually starts accepting that he is not the supreme master and commander of the universe. There's more to learn. The process that follows, is called change and refreezing that inculcates stuff into the kid, and makes him strong.
Somehow reminds of a documentary on Kung Fu I was watching a couple of months ago. But yeah, it feels nice to know that we're falling right down your trap.
Prof: Just remember that the harder and more painful this process is, the stronger your alumni network will be. And yeah the bottomline - do not come to me if you end up with C's or D's. Just take it in your stride.
Wow, some way of putting it, that.
And of course, I'm totally oblivious to what the prof's saying - something about Greiner's model of organizations' birth and death. Ughh...it's irritating sitting in a class like this full of inactivity and not doing anything save listen. So I took this pic. You can't see me, of course, but you can see how most of the class is dozing off. You can also see my yellow highlighter on the table and that's there because I wasn't using it; so my neighbour decided he would play with it. Fine. So much for a regular class.
Out of the blue, the lights go out, and there's this wonderful movie that our professor plays about Aravind Eye Hospital in Madurai and how they're creating waves with the good work that they do. The video is moving and inspirational. My friend remarks, why can't such movies hit Inox instead of flicks like Chak De. Yeah, interesting, I think. Get SRK to be a doc, and 16 nurses, and bam! you have a blockbuster. Some movie, huh?
Anyway, so the movie's over, and everyone is visibly moved including the prof, and so we go on to the rest of the lecture. It's what follows that probably made this one of my most memorable lectures; I just hope I remember it for all the right reasons. (italics reflect my thoughts)
Prof: So what happens in an organization when you get a fresh set of employees or people and make them adjust to the vision of the company.
Me: Does the fresher really have a choice? Hell, he wouldn't paid if he didn't stick by the company. So he'd work, what else?
Prof: This is probably best studied in light of the IIMs themselves. Now apparently, this top level institute in India (I'm not taking names, so that SMC can't sue me for being politically incorrect) follows a process called Unfreezing, Change and Refreezing. Unfreezing is the most painful process of the three. You guys come as cool cats, with the mentality that you've done it all. And so you're hardly ready to learn anything, let alone get transformed into something greater.
Me: For the first time in an MO lecture, I'm actually attentive. Hell, this guy seems to be speaking to me!!!
Prof:And so, the first term is deliberately made so hard, with so much workload that even the best of students can humanly not cope with it. And say by the end of term, you actually start questioning your own abilities.
Precisely what we freshers were bitching about last night in the Dukh Baanto session in my room. Oh, for crying out loud!!!
Prof: And the system makes sure that even the best of students ends up with at least a couple of D's. By when the student is brought down to his knees, and he actually starts accepting that he is not the supreme master and commander of the universe. There's more to learn. The process that follows, is called change and refreezing that inculcates stuff into the kid, and makes him strong.
Somehow reminds of a documentary on Kung Fu I was watching a couple of months ago. But yeah, it feels nice to know that we're falling right down your trap.
Prof: Just remember that the harder and more painful this process is, the stronger your alumni network will be. And yeah the bottomline - do not come to me if you end up with C's or D's. Just take it in your stride.
Wow, some way of putting it, that.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
What's with a little extra jammin'?
It's three in the morning, and at this unearthly hour I've just gotten back from the recreation room doing perhaps what only Palash Sen or Raghu Dixit would appreciate - jamming. We have our intra Bangalore cul-extravaganza today, and our show's at 9.30 am. I'm back in my comfort zone to catch some well deserved sleep. I can't even believe I'm tapping out this blog - so tired are my fingers from playing Tabla, and my biceps - they've already given way twice.
OK - that was more of a euphemism, but yeah, the kind of dedication that these guys have out here is amazing. At like 1 in the morning we're all irritable, and frustrated because we're getting the odd beat wrong, and any suggestion for changed is met with snobbishness, not out of being stubborn, but simply because we're too pained from having to play since 5 pm and we're not there yet.
And still, we carry on. Putting fight, as the IIMB lingo goes. Here's to a successful Ecstasy!!!
OK - that was more of a euphemism, but yeah, the kind of dedication that these guys have out here is amazing. At like 1 in the morning we're all irritable, and frustrated because we're getting the odd beat wrong, and any suggestion for changed is met with snobbishness, not out of being stubborn, but simply because we're too pained from having to play since 5 pm and we're not there yet.
And still, we carry on. Putting fight, as the IIMB lingo goes. Here's to a successful Ecstasy!!!
Monday, August 13, 2007
Lament of an open book exam
I was born in America. Some say I was created by the magnanimous professors of American universities to cater to the great average American mind. Yet others say I was a need based invention. Whatever it be, I still remain the same old white sheet of paper with black ink, cyclostyled or xeroxed. The beauty of an open book exam lies in the fact that I can make the examinees fall to their knees in humiliation. That in fact, they could bring all they wanted to the fight, and I would render them ineffectual. Some would say an open book exam is logical in a post graduate environment, given that you would anyway not need to memorize stuff in real life.
But alas! The loopholes of exam law render me ineffectual. I, as any other creation in this universe, have ancestors. Evil as they are, the people who come to crack me shamelessly resurrect the dead bodies of my esteemed ancestors from their graves and make copies too. They bring them to the sanctum sanctorum of the exam and use them against me !!! My unfortunate creators lack in sufficient creativity to make me independent of my forefathers. Bad students bless me, and good ones curse me before I am born. After my life cycle, everyone curses me for the equity that I bring about. Some pathetic existence I have, huh?
PS: Anyway for those of you who're wondering if this post is out of place, yours truly is down with a bout of mid term result fever at B- school, and will promptly return next week. So long!
But alas! The loopholes of exam law render me ineffectual. I, as any other creation in this universe, have ancestors. Evil as they are, the people who come to crack me shamelessly resurrect the dead bodies of my esteemed ancestors from their graves and make copies too. They bring them to the sanctum sanctorum of the exam and use them against me !!! My unfortunate creators lack in sufficient creativity to make me independent of my forefathers. Bad students bless me, and good ones curse me before I am born. After my life cycle, everyone curses me for the equity that I bring about. Some pathetic existence I have, huh?
PS: Anyway for those of you who're wondering if this post is out of place, yours truly is down with a bout of mid term result fever at B- school, and will promptly return next week. So long!
Sunday, July 1, 2007
School after college
Doesn't that title sound a bit crazy? Well, it sounds philosophical to me. Metaphysical, rather. Like life after death. But it's a fact that I along with 248 other great children of this country (hmmmm....) are now experiencing.
B- school.
Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. I'm finally in a place surrounded by stones and rocks - IIM Bangalore. It's where I want to be. It's almost like living in a castle. Specially the hostels. You walk out of the room and you're in a quadrangle of stone. The place is almost like heaven. Especially after staying in a dilapidated hostel on the beach for four years.
Almost like heaven.
That agonisingly painful step away, IIM Bangalore is not heaven. It's a workhouse, where the comfort of your room is just a comfort zone that you return to, to lick your wounds. Where you sit down to rewrite your one-pager resume after it has been taken apart by your mentors. Where you sit and cram ways of Managing Organisations in the hope that you'll remember at least 4 out of 8 in the test tomorrow. And where you set your alarm clock at 7 am in a swing of inspiration, only to wake up at 7.05 am and switch off the snooze button.
But yet, it's enjoyable, and I even have the time to conjure up this bunch of seemingly useless nonsense.(or should I say Globe?)
That's what I call hectic fun.
B- school.
Yeah. That's what I'm talking about. I'm finally in a place surrounded by stones and rocks - IIM Bangalore. It's where I want to be. It's almost like living in a castle. Specially the hostels. You walk out of the room and you're in a quadrangle of stone. The place is almost like heaven. Especially after staying in a dilapidated hostel on the beach for four years.
Almost like heaven.
That agonisingly painful step away, IIM Bangalore is not heaven. It's a workhouse, where the comfort of your room is just a comfort zone that you return to, to lick your wounds. Where you sit down to rewrite your one-pager resume after it has been taken apart by your mentors. Where you sit and cram ways of Managing Organisations in the hope that you'll remember at least 4 out of 8 in the test tomorrow. And where you set your alarm clock at 7 am in a swing of inspiration, only to wake up at 7.05 am and switch off the snooze button.
But yet, it's enjoyable, and I even have the time to conjure up this bunch of seemingly useless nonsense.(or should I say Globe?)
That's what I call hectic fun.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Widescreen
That does seem bit weird a title for the next post of a person who is neither a photography enthusiast nor a cinema critic. However yeah, the term did come to mind when I was browsing the latest cameras @ Panasonic. The latest in thing is the widescreen 28 inch lens which gives one a larger screen effectively with the same camera size. And I was hit by this astoundingly obvious metaphor to life....
We are born as babies with none, absolutely none of our knowledge of the world around us. Slowly we move from the cradle to the bed and from the bed to the school bus, questioning the things around us and the way they work. The school bus is a standing witness to our transformation from germinating saplings to scheming bratty teenagers who channelize their intellectual energy down all sorts of devilish alleys to fool all they know. With this kind of self esteem, and with a mentality that they are the supreme masters of the world and commanders of the universe, we enter the mystical world of college. Four years of roughing up by seniors, lecturers, professors and project guides in that order transform us into machines, subservient individuals who I fondly call the youth brigade and who constitute a force stronger than this world has ever seen. So much for what the world, and the rest of its inhabitants see in this generation. My astonishment pertains to what the generation has kept seeing as they've been growing and how their viewpoint has become more and more wider and mature as the most important number in their lives - their age - increases.
Serious as this post may sound, I thought I'll lighten it up by writing it in the form of dialogues between myself and the people concerned, that'll get the point across. Of course, wherever it makes sense though. It's a new style of writing I picked up when I was reading my friend's blog the other day, and it makes reading a lot more fun.
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1-2-1987. 6.15 pm
APPA: (pointing to me)Avanige hasivu aagutthide. (Kannada, translates into "He is hungry")
AMMA: (takes me to the dinner table)
1-2-1987. 9.15 pm
ME: (pointing to my stomach)Avanige hasivu aagutthide. (Kannada, translates into "He is hungry")
AMMA: (laughs)
For the uninitiated what this shows is how much a child picks up when he's a kid. Though he's got absolutely no knowledge of the language(obvious from the "He" used in both sentences), he just replicates what his father has said, thinking that since he got fed when his father said it, he would get fed again if he said it ! When my mom tells me this story for the 15th time today, I still don't fail to get amazed.
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Class II. A scene from class. The teacher has just finished hurling a tirade of instructions and threats at the bunch of brats sitting in front of her. They're all quiet. Pin-drop silence, as she said. Everyone. Except, of course, me.
ME: Teacher is stupid.
GUY NEXT TO ME: (Snickers)
GOODY GOODY GIRL SITTING IN FRONT OF ME: I will tell teacher (promptly complains)
ME: Oh shit. (as the wooden scale in the hands of Mrs. Mary Francis lands on my palm. Thank heavens it was not steel.)
Later that night....
MOM: (having spoken to Mrs. Mary Francis) What nonsense did you do in class today?
ME: (totally unaware of the fact)Nothing.
Mom gives me two slaps. One for calling my teacher stupid, and one for lying.
Lesson not learnt.
PS: For the record, Mrs Mary Francis was a teacher I adore and respect to this day. I owe a lot of what I've achieved to her, and today I sincerely regret whatever I said on that day, out of innocent ignorance.
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Class VIII. Scene: Student's Council. Me the head boy. We have the job of making sure everyone gets into the school bus, and no unauthorized person gets in. Our PE Sir is in charge and he has just finished briefing us on the issue. We turn round and get started. The bookworm I was at the moment wanted to run away. No real dialogues took place, but the moment his back was turned, I ran. Shamelessly. A moment of cowardice and shirking of duty. The consequences of which still keep haunting me. A sad page in the book that is my life.
Lesson learnt, but late. Better late though, than never.
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Class XII. My last year in school. It's Bio class. And I'm laughing away to glory at pathetic jokes that my friend and I share to pass time that's honestly boring.
Prof. : So this is a process called mitosis, where by the cell undergoes asexual division and splits into two cells. So you see, within 6 divisions the cell splits into sixty fou...........keep quiet!
We continue to snicker.
Prof. : (Two minutes later, slaps both of us really really hard) How many times should I tell you this? Do NOT disturb my class. Nonsense.
A day that i can't wipe out from my memories of school...A day that taught me no matter how many exams I top or how many times I come in the Honors' List, it makes no sense to disrespect your teacher. Weird, considering you'd expect that to have entered my head sometime early in life. But ya...the screen did become a couple of inches more wide.
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1st year of engineering. Scene near my classmate's hostel room. In fact my CR. Was pretty much frustrated on the day 'cos I hadn't done well in some test or something....I walk into the room and generally rant about. Having signed for something I don't remember now, I generally fiddle around with his mobile phone. At the time, mobile phones were new and exciting to me, (you can imagine first year of hostel life) and considering a friend a friend, I send a ringtone from his phone to mine since I took a fancy to it. I forgot just one thing. To ask.
The next thing I know is that I'm taken up on all fours and kicked...I'll spare the gory details but in NITK lingo, I got what was the biggest GPL of my life.
Lesson learnt: Never take anyone for granted, even friends. To cultivate friends, always give more than what you take.
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Final year in college. This is my IE trip. And we're going to Kerala.
Junior: Hey sir you've cleared in CAT....how'd you do it?
ME: Yeah....just stick to the fundamentals....(and off i go bragging about what I did)
JUNIOR: Sir but isn't doing MS a better idea. Especially when...(he tells me what he's done in college. I'm honestly shocked. The guy's a virtual genius in electronics. He just asked me a lot of questions on how I prepared for MBA....I feel so used!!!)
Lesson learnt: Never, never brag. Even to your juniors. It's always pleasantly surprising when they find out about you on their own and then chide you for not telling them. At least you don't make a fool of yourself.
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Final Scene. My IIM Ahmedabad interview. Unforgettable. The interviewer was seeing my certificates and I had done a course in math called concrete maths, which I topped and am very proud of.
Interviewer: OK so what is this Concrete Mathematics you've done? Do you make concrete in it ?
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So thus we reach the present position of life. Even though I've made it through college, and gotten into the college I've pretty much dreamed about for a long time now, I can't stop admiring the journey my mind has made. From being able to distinguish between "you" and "me" to descending on great philosophical truths of life. It is only now that I understand when they say life's a journey, not a destination. And the Geeta now makes perfect sense when it asks you not to worry about the results of your action, but the action itself.
Because you'll cherish the journey forever. The fruits last just their shelf life.
Another philosophical truth.
Enough for today. Be back with more.
We are born as babies with none, absolutely none of our knowledge of the world around us. Slowly we move from the cradle to the bed and from the bed to the school bus, questioning the things around us and the way they work. The school bus is a standing witness to our transformation from germinating saplings to scheming bratty teenagers who channelize their intellectual energy down all sorts of devilish alleys to fool all they know. With this kind of self esteem, and with a mentality that they are the supreme masters of the world and commanders of the universe, we enter the mystical world of college. Four years of roughing up by seniors, lecturers, professors and project guides in that order transform us into machines, subservient individuals who I fondly call the youth brigade and who constitute a force stronger than this world has ever seen. So much for what the world, and the rest of its inhabitants see in this generation. My astonishment pertains to what the generation has kept seeing as they've been growing and how their viewpoint has become more and more wider and mature as the most important number in their lives - their age - increases.
Serious as this post may sound, I thought I'll lighten it up by writing it in the form of dialogues between myself and the people concerned, that'll get the point across. Of course, wherever it makes sense though. It's a new style of writing I picked up when I was reading my friend's blog the other day, and it makes reading a lot more fun.
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1-2-1987. 6.15 pm
APPA: (pointing to me)Avanige hasivu aagutthide. (Kannada, translates into "He is hungry")
AMMA: (takes me to the dinner table)
1-2-1987. 9.15 pm
ME: (pointing to my stomach)Avanige hasivu aagutthide. (Kannada, translates into "He is hungry")
AMMA: (laughs)
For the uninitiated what this shows is how much a child picks up when he's a kid. Though he's got absolutely no knowledge of the language(obvious from the "He" used in both sentences), he just replicates what his father has said, thinking that since he got fed when his father said it, he would get fed again if he said it ! When my mom tells me this story for the 15th time today, I still don't fail to get amazed.
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Class II. A scene from class. The teacher has just finished hurling a tirade of instructions and threats at the bunch of brats sitting in front of her. They're all quiet. Pin-drop silence, as she said. Everyone. Except, of course, me.
ME: Teacher is stupid.
GUY NEXT TO ME: (Snickers)
GOODY GOODY GIRL SITTING IN FRONT OF ME: I will tell teacher (promptly complains)
ME: Oh shit. (as the wooden scale in the hands of Mrs. Mary Francis lands on my palm. Thank heavens it was not steel.)
Later that night....
MOM: (having spoken to Mrs. Mary Francis) What nonsense did you do in class today?
ME: (totally unaware of the fact)Nothing.
Mom gives me two slaps. One for calling my teacher stupid, and one for lying.
Lesson not learnt.
PS: For the record, Mrs Mary Francis was a teacher I adore and respect to this day. I owe a lot of what I've achieved to her, and today I sincerely regret whatever I said on that day, out of innocent ignorance.
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Class VIII. Scene: Student's Council. Me the head boy. We have the job of making sure everyone gets into the school bus, and no unauthorized person gets in. Our PE Sir is in charge and he has just finished briefing us on the issue. We turn round and get started. The bookworm I was at the moment wanted to run away. No real dialogues took place, but the moment his back was turned, I ran. Shamelessly. A moment of cowardice and shirking of duty. The consequences of which still keep haunting me. A sad page in the book that is my life.
Lesson learnt, but late. Better late though, than never.
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Class XII. My last year in school. It's Bio class. And I'm laughing away to glory at pathetic jokes that my friend and I share to pass time that's honestly boring.
Prof. : So this is a process called mitosis, where by the cell undergoes asexual division and splits into two cells. So you see, within 6 divisions the cell splits into sixty fou...........keep quiet!
We continue to snicker.
Prof. : (Two minutes later, slaps both of us really really hard) How many times should I tell you this? Do NOT disturb my class. Nonsense.
A day that i can't wipe out from my memories of school...A day that taught me no matter how many exams I top or how many times I come in the Honors' List, it makes no sense to disrespect your teacher. Weird, considering you'd expect that to have entered my head sometime early in life. But ya...the screen did become a couple of inches more wide.
-----------------------------------------------------------
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1st year of engineering. Scene near my classmate's hostel room. In fact my CR. Was pretty much frustrated on the day 'cos I hadn't done well in some test or something....I walk into the room and generally rant about. Having signed for something I don't remember now, I generally fiddle around with his mobile phone. At the time, mobile phones were new and exciting to me, (you can imagine first year of hostel life) and considering a friend a friend, I send a ringtone from his phone to mine since I took a fancy to it. I forgot just one thing. To ask.
The next thing I know is that I'm taken up on all fours and kicked...I'll spare the gory details but in NITK lingo, I got what was the biggest GPL of my life.
Lesson learnt: Never take anyone for granted, even friends. To cultivate friends, always give more than what you take.
-----------------------------------------------------------
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Final year in college. This is my IE trip. And we're going to Kerala.
Junior: Hey sir you've cleared in CAT....how'd you do it?
ME: Yeah....just stick to the fundamentals....(and off i go bragging about what I did)
JUNIOR: Sir but isn't doing MS a better idea. Especially when...(he tells me what he's done in college. I'm honestly shocked. The guy's a virtual genius in electronics. He just asked me a lot of questions on how I prepared for MBA....I feel so used!!!)
Lesson learnt: Never, never brag. Even to your juniors. It's always pleasantly surprising when they find out about you on their own and then chide you for not telling them. At least you don't make a fool of yourself.
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Final Scene. My IIM Ahmedabad interview. Unforgettable. The interviewer was seeing my certificates and I had done a course in math called concrete maths, which I topped and am very proud of.
Interviewer: OK so what is this Concrete Mathematics you've done? Do you make concrete in it ?
ME: No sir, I'll quote Donald Knuth the author of our text, who defines it as a FOUNDATION FOR COMPUTER SCIENCE.Basically it starts by trying to find a method to the madness of recursions, closed forms, sequences and series , floors and ceilings and finally generating functions.
Interviewer: So can you define Limit of a function?
(kept trying..think what i wrote is correct, but he never agreed)
Interviewer: And you say you've read Knuth? (mocking me)
(Apologetic smile, but I still haven't gotten over that urge to kick myself)
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So thus we reach the present position of life. Even though I've made it through college, and gotten into the college I've pretty much dreamed about for a long time now, I can't stop admiring the journey my mind has made. From being able to distinguish between "you" and "me" to descending on great philosophical truths of life. It is only now that I understand when they say life's a journey, not a destination. And the Geeta now makes perfect sense when it asks you not to worry about the results of your action, but the action itself.
Because you'll cherish the journey forever. The fruits last just their shelf life.
Another philosophical truth.
Enough for today. Be back with more.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Coaxed away!
Well, so I find myself here in an oasis in the middle of the Persian Gulf. I have finished a substantial chunk of my education, and my road for the next 2 years has been charted out. I sip my morning Bournvita, and look outside the French windows, and my gaze falls on a barren piece of land. No lush greenery, no beautiful lawn to look out on. But the cool breeze of the AC brushes my hair, and the comfort of this place comes back to mind.
Sick of my lazing around and putting on weight, and doing no other useful work than surf around and chat on gtalk with friends, my parents decide to call me out to go shopping. Unwilling to go, I try to make excuses.
"I want to write my blog. There's no time, and no battery in my laptop. So I need to stay home"
"No."
"My best friend from school is coming back today. I want to catch up."
"You can speak to him after coming back. Now come and enough of this joblessness."
"Please." I beg to stay home. These will be my last holidays. I want to enjoy them at home, I think. But I don't say it aloud. I'll play that trump card elsewhere.
And relenting, I walk out in a pair of three quarters and a t-shirt. A Proline t-shirt that my mom absolutely disapproves of my wearing along with the three-quarters that we purchased at Geant and which she despises.
We get into the four-wheeled chassis, one of Toyota's wonderful creations and villa no. 27 vanishes in a puff of exhaust smoke. We cruise along the flyover, one of the few things you'd envy being in India. And barely has it been 15 minutes, we're at our destination 12 kms away.
Yet another thing I envy. Speed.
But what astounds me is the way I've swinged my emotions from being an 20.5-year old unruly kid to an admirer of philosophically and aesthetically pleasing things in life.....and the grim satisfaction I get now, not entirely unlike that of a student who fills up a page in his answer book having written nothing of substance at all.
Sick of my lazing around and putting on weight, and doing no other useful work than surf around and chat on gtalk with friends, my parents decide to call me out to go shopping. Unwilling to go, I try to make excuses.
"I want to write my blog. There's no time, and no battery in my laptop. So I need to stay home"
"No."
"My best friend from school is coming back today. I want to catch up."
"You can speak to him after coming back. Now come and enough of this joblessness."
"Please." I beg to stay home. These will be my last holidays. I want to enjoy them at home, I think. But I don't say it aloud. I'll play that trump card elsewhere.
And relenting, I walk out in a pair of three quarters and a t-shirt. A Proline t-shirt that my mom absolutely disapproves of my wearing along with the three-quarters that we purchased at Geant and which she despises.
We get into the four-wheeled chassis, one of Toyota's wonderful creations and villa no. 27 vanishes in a puff of exhaust smoke. We cruise along the flyover, one of the few things you'd envy being in India. And barely has it been 15 minutes, we're at our destination 12 kms away.
Yet another thing I envy. Speed.
But what astounds me is the way I've swinged my emotions from being an 20.5-year old unruly kid to an admirer of philosophically and aesthetically pleasing things in life.....and the grim satisfaction I get now, not entirely unlike that of a student who fills up a page in his answer book having written nothing of substance at all.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
They stopped an exploding man!!!
My new laptop rocks. It's arguably the best laptop in the world in terms of performance, and also in terms of the way you can see amazing quality movies on it. In my first blog from this lappie, a tribute to my parents who've bought me this laptop for my future life at IIM.
And yet it can do not 0.07% of the stuff that the guys I saw in Heroes on it this afternoon can.
Season one of heroes ended this week. To the trained logical mind, it would seem no more than a fantasy of sorts, with ideas ripped off from X-men and the like. But brush aside the curtain of cold logic, and behold the artistic capacities of the human mind, and thou shalt appreciate the greatness of heroes.
Artistic capacities, that give humans other artistic capabilities to "Save the World". And to churn supreme testaments on life like the following....
Where does it come from, this quest? This need to solve life's mysteries when the simplest of questions can never be answered? Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream? Perhaps we'd be better off not looking at all. Not delving, not yearning. But that's not human nature. Not the human heart. That is not why we are here. Yet still we struggle to make a difference, to change the world, to dream of hope, never knowing for certain who we will meet along the way. Who among the world of strangers will hold our hand, touch our hearts, and share the pain and triumph?
Well, psychologically and aesthetically inspiring. More so, spiritually. Metaphysics being an interest of mine, it should rightly be so. But my head rolls in awe when I see people making a compelling television show, which you know can never be real, and yet it makes you think twice about life.
How Claire, in spite of her healing ability, played no part in saving the world as such.
How Hiro with his endearing eye-crunch to stop time, teleports centuries in time and kilometres in distance, and yet did no greater service than discovering his ability and landing amongst a bunch of Samurai.
How most of the heroes, having delivered sensational scenes and stupendous achievements in their own life and locale, were either too late or too weak when it came to the fitting moment.
How the most powerful of them all (Peter, the one who absorbs anyone's power when they some close to him, and retains it for life) is compelled to shoot into space so that he explodes without harming anyone. How in spite of having the power to fly, he needs his brother to carry him into space.
And thus reality bites now and roars at me - "A hero is not one who can work miracles or achieve the impossible. A hero is one who can exhort himself to the maximum when it demands of him that he shall. And put his priorities, his values before himself. "
And so comes my take on the whole thing. I'm not disappointed that I have no superpowers. I don't care if I can fly, if I can bend space and time or heal myself. Nor does it matter to me if others can and I cannot absorb their powers. But I would sorely be disappointed if I were called upon to be, and I failed in my duty, as a hero.
To wrap up, the bottom line from "Genesis"...(which by the way I think is amazing)
We dream of hope, we dream of change, of fire, of love, of death. And then it happens; the dream becomes real, and the answer to this quest, this need to solve life's mysteries finally shows itself like the glowing light of the new dawn. So much struggle for meaning, for purpose. And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts... that we are not alone.
So long, I'll be back, with more !!!!
And yet it can do not 0.07% of the stuff that the guys I saw in Heroes on it this afternoon can.
Season one of heroes ended this week. To the trained logical mind, it would seem no more than a fantasy of sorts, with ideas ripped off from X-men and the like. But brush aside the curtain of cold logic, and behold the artistic capacities of the human mind, and thou shalt appreciate the greatness of heroes.
Artistic capacities, that give humans other artistic capabilities to "Save the World". And to churn supreme testaments on life like the following....
Where does it come from, this quest? This need to solve life's mysteries when the simplest of questions can never be answered? Why are we here? What is the soul? Why do we dream? Perhaps we'd be better off not looking at all. Not delving, not yearning. But that's not human nature. Not the human heart. That is not why we are here. Yet still we struggle to make a difference, to change the world, to dream of hope, never knowing for certain who we will meet along the way. Who among the world of strangers will hold our hand, touch our hearts, and share the pain and triumph?
Well, psychologically and aesthetically inspiring. More so, spiritually. Metaphysics being an interest of mine, it should rightly be so. But my head rolls in awe when I see people making a compelling television show, which you know can never be real, and yet it makes you think twice about life.
How Claire, in spite of her healing ability, played no part in saving the world as such.
How Hiro with his endearing eye-crunch to stop time, teleports centuries in time and kilometres in distance, and yet did no greater service than discovering his ability and landing amongst a bunch of Samurai.
How most of the heroes, having delivered sensational scenes and stupendous achievements in their own life and locale, were either too late or too weak when it came to the fitting moment.
How the most powerful of them all (Peter, the one who absorbs anyone's power when they some close to him, and retains it for life) is compelled to shoot into space so that he explodes without harming anyone. How in spite of having the power to fly, he needs his brother to carry him into space.
And thus reality bites now and roars at me - "A hero is not one who can work miracles or achieve the impossible. A hero is one who can exhort himself to the maximum when it demands of him that he shall. And put his priorities, his values before himself. "
And so comes my take on the whole thing. I'm not disappointed that I have no superpowers. I don't care if I can fly, if I can bend space and time or heal myself. Nor does it matter to me if others can and I cannot absorb their powers. But I would sorely be disappointed if I were called upon to be, and I failed in my duty, as a hero.
To wrap up, the bottom line from "Genesis"...(which by the way I think is amazing)
We dream of hope, we dream of change, of fire, of love, of death. And then it happens; the dream becomes real, and the answer to this quest, this need to solve life's mysteries finally shows itself like the glowing light of the new dawn. So much struggle for meaning, for purpose. And in the end, we find it only in each other. Our shared experience of the fantastic and the mundane. The simple human need to find a kindred. To connect. And to know in our hearts... that we are not alone.
So long, I'll be back, with more !!!!
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Homecoming
Home at last. The flight was boring to use the politest word at disposal, and it's such a relief to be back in the air conditioned rooms of our house. Despite the terrible temperatures of the Middle East, and the barrenness of the desert all round, it still feels home. This was where I grew up. This is home.
And yet, there's this small and truthful voice in my head that goes, no, you don't miss this place so much as you'd miss college. And I think, yes. Our home for four years, NITK gave us glimpses of hell, and shorter glances of heaven, yes, but it was still home for four years. I'm already missing the long walk from the room to the bathrooms at the other end of the corridor as the taps at my end are running dry! (NITK hostels are built on a slope) Among other things, I also can't seem to forget the powercuts. The horrendous stench of sweat that didn't seem to stop because the fans weren't working. The amount we used to curse the people in the generator room as they would never switch on the generator. And always used to be partial to our block, no matter which block we lived in.
Memories flood my tiny cerebrum as I think of the bygone four years...the four years for which this sleepy little town on the west coast of India, Surathkal has been my home away from home. And finally, as I sit in the comfort of air conditioning in my parents' home here in Bahrain, the reality bites me, and I realise....I'm no longer an undergrad. Make no mistake ...I can't call myself a graduate either; my final sem results are yet in the waiting. But tehe point is, as I lie now and recline on this couch, I find I have nothing to worry about, and all I can do is to sit and reminisce.
It's all over.
And yet, there's this small and truthful voice in my head that goes, no, you don't miss this place so much as you'd miss college. And I think, yes. Our home for four years, NITK gave us glimpses of hell, and shorter glances of heaven, yes, but it was still home for four years. I'm already missing the long walk from the room to the bathrooms at the other end of the corridor as the taps at my end are running dry! (NITK hostels are built on a slope) Among other things, I also can't seem to forget the powercuts. The horrendous stench of sweat that didn't seem to stop because the fans weren't working. The amount we used to curse the people in the generator room as they would never switch on the generator. And always used to be partial to our block, no matter which block we lived in.
Memories flood my tiny cerebrum as I think of the bygone four years...the four years for which this sleepy little town on the west coast of India, Surathkal has been my home away from home. And finally, as I sit in the comfort of air conditioning in my parents' home here in Bahrain, the reality bites me, and I realise....I'm no longer an undergrad. Make no mistake ...I can't call myself a graduate either; my final sem results are yet in the waiting. But tehe point is, as I lie now and recline on this couch, I find I have nothing to worry about, and all I can do is to sit and reminisce.
It's all over.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Ring
My ring ceremony's over. It seems like college's almost over, but it's not. I don't feel like crying, but there's this thing deep down in me which says I'm going to be crying for the next 10 years.
It's not everyday that you remember such sentimental quotes like that. This one's Matthew Perry, of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fame, and he said something similar when the show ended after a 10 - year run. In my case the nostalgia is more by leaps and bounds.
So what's brought this up, you ask? Well, I happen to be in this college where a silver ring is presented to all students as a mark of their graduation. Apparently (or so said the Dean) this was as close as they could get to a convocation before becoming a Deemed univ. So here we were, all in formals, for one last farewell....
I won't go too much into the details, 'cos they don't really matter, but suffice it to say that when our HOD/ prof slipped that ring up our finger, each and every one of us felt that flourish of pride. That feeling of wonderment and astonishment that we had made it on our own. As Pranay who gave the valedictory speech said, we made our identities here, or rather, we discovered them. And to think it all comes back to you at the precise moment when you're going to leave the college....Strange yet stark realities of life.
Anyway so we all got the ring, and the best students got the golden ring and golden medal...we all read the pledge, of which we have one copy apiece. Though following it is going to be one hard thing.(it was hard enough eating dinner keeping it in one hand)
Oh and by the way, so that you don't have any misconceptions, ....we've had our share of problems.
The food sucked. Just when we thought nothing could be worse than mess food.
There was no water in the blocks for 40% of the time we spent here. Maybe even more.
We've been deprived of our 3 basic necessities so many times, water, electricity and net.
We've had our share of surprise tests, and it's taken its toll.
None of us have the CGPA we wanted. As always ,we would have wanted more.
And yet, as Pranay said, I wouldn't have it any other way.
It's not everyday that you remember such sentimental quotes like that. This one's Matthew Perry, of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fame, and he said something similar when the show ended after a 10 - year run. In my case the nostalgia is more by leaps and bounds.
So what's brought this up, you ask? Well, I happen to be in this college where a silver ring is presented to all students as a mark of their graduation. Apparently (or so said the Dean) this was as close as they could get to a convocation before becoming a Deemed univ. So here we were, all in formals, for one last farewell....I won't go too much into the details, 'cos they don't really matter, but suffice it to say that when our HOD/ prof slipped that ring up our finger, each and every one of us felt that flourish of pride. That feeling of wonderment and astonishment that we had made it on our own. As Pranay who gave the valedictory speech said, we made our identities here, or rather, we discovered them. And to think it all comes back to you at the precise moment when you're going to leave the college....Strange yet stark realities of life.
Anyway so we all got the ring, and the best students got the golden ring and golden medal...we all read the pledge, of which we have one copy apiece. Though following it is going to be one hard thing.(it was hard enough eating dinner keeping it in one hand)
Oh and by the way, so that you don't have any misconceptions, ....we've had our share of problems.
The food sucked. Just when we thought nothing could be worse than mess food.
There was no water in the blocks for 40% of the time we spent here. Maybe even more.
We've been deprived of our 3 basic necessities so many times, water, electricity and net.
We've had our share of surprise tests, and it's taken its toll.
None of us have the CGPA we wanted. As always ,we would have wanted more.
And yet, as Pranay said, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Tripped!
Kerala is a nice place. So nice that they are called God's own country, and rightly so. Somehow the feeling of being heavenly was very profound when we stopped at the outskirts of this town Sulthan Bathery, which was to be some kind of a center point for all the places we were
to visit on the trek we went last week. The mist surrounded us and both sides of the road dived down steeply, so that it seemed that we were on the mezzanine and all the fields were on the ground floor. The air was cold and I having had woken up from my deep slumber, was still trying to figure out what was going on. All around me the enthusiastic juniors were clicking away, while some tried to get acrobatic by climbing trees.
So here we were, 300-odd kilometres away from hostel, away from the steamrolling heat and sweltering climate of Skull, to enjoy the cool backwaters of Kerala. Well, not everything is rosy in life, and soon the pangs of hunger started biting. Yeah, we had the biscuits and no, we did not have cooked food packed from the lousy mess, but the reserves were meant for the trek or something. So we landed up at this so-called best place to eat in SB, and what an experience we had. The few guys who knew Mallutongue in our group chattered something we did not understand, I only hoped they were ordering something veg. Palappams, and ultra spicy curries turned up and there was also this dish which looked like a dosa made out of spaghetti. Anyway, most delicious (probably because of the hunger) and wanting to get on with the trek we moved on.
Revati had very kindly jugged us the lodge at this wildlife sanctuary at Muthanga. Having dumped our stuff there, we relaxed for a bit. The guys were tired, I don't know about the girls. But the one remarkable thing was the way we all flattened out on the bed. Wow, was the KSTRC bus ride tiring. Anyway, there wasn't much wildlife around and this wasn't Periyar at any rate, so we decided to get a move on. There are around 9-10 places that you would really like to visit in and around Wayanad. (see wayanad.nic.in) And 2 days aren't really enough.
We settled on Kuruwa island. Unfortunately we wasted an hour going around in circles, trying to find the point where we moved from bus to boat. 
Finally, we paid over 860 bucks to get 43 of us across a stream half as wide as an Olympic swimming pool. Man, I could have swum across that one! But con said no, and con is an honorable man. So then we crossed, and we were at last on the island. The trip mood hadn't yet picked up and herding 43 people through a jungle was proving to be quite a task. Con rose to the occasion by getting us a guide and we started our sojourn through the woods of Kuruwa. On land, you can at best file in a straight line and all there is for grip are roots of trees and dead leaves.
The waters divide Kuruwa into bits and pieces and the waters that flow are stopped by the presence of big, smooth rocks. The rocks are really treacherous when it comes to letting you walk over them, and least because of the huge amount of moss that grows on them. So that's how the trek through the forest was, partially on land, then wade through water(yes my shoes were in my hand), then walk again with soggy socks and dirty shoes that poked because of the wild grass stuck to my wet feet. Finally after about a thirty such crossings, we got tired and rested on the rocks. 
In the mood for mischief , we started watering Con. And that snowballed into a major water play! (See pic). This went on till it got dark after which it was dinner and sleep, which would be too regular to blog about!
End of the day, there was only one thought in my mind .....we should do more of this!!!
to visit on the trek we went last week. The mist surrounded us and both sides of the road dived down steeply, so that it seemed that we were on the mezzanine and all the fields were on the ground floor. The air was cold and I having had woken up from my deep slumber, was still trying to figure out what was going on. All around me the enthusiastic juniors were clicking away, while some tried to get acrobatic by climbing trees.So here we were, 300-odd kilometres away from hostel, away from the steamrolling heat and sweltering climate of Skull, to enjoy the cool backwaters of Kerala. Well, not everything is rosy in life, and soon the pangs of hunger started biting. Yeah, we had the biscuits and no, we did not have cooked food packed from the lousy mess, but the reserves were meant for the trek or something. So we landed up at this so-called best place to eat in SB, and what an experience we had. The few guys who knew Mallutongue in our group chattered something we did not understand, I only hoped they were ordering something veg. Palappams, and ultra spicy curries turned up and there was also this dish which looked like a dosa made out of spaghetti. Anyway, most delicious (probably because of the hunger) and wanting to get on with the trek we moved on.
Revati had very kindly jugged us the lodge at this wildlife sanctuary at Muthanga. Having dumped our stuff there, we relaxed for a bit. The guys were tired, I don't know about the girls. But the one remarkable thing was the way we all flattened out on the bed. Wow, was the KSTRC bus ride tiring. Anyway, there wasn't much wildlife around and this wasn't Periyar at any rate, so we decided to get a move on. There are around 9-10 places that you would really like to visit in and around Wayanad. (see wayanad.nic.in) And 2 days aren't really enough.
Finally, we paid over 860 bucks to get 43 of us across a stream half as wide as an Olympic swimming pool. Man, I could have swum across that one! But con said no, and con is an honorable man. So then we crossed, and we were at last on the island. The trip mood hadn't yet picked up and herding 43 people through a jungle was proving to be quite a task. Con rose to the occasion by getting us a guide and we started our sojourn through the woods of Kuruwa. On land, you can at best file in a straight line and all there is for grip are roots of trees and dead leaves.
The waters divide Kuruwa into bits and pieces and the waters that flow are stopped by the presence of big, smooth rocks. The rocks are really treacherous when it comes to letting you walk over them, and least because of the huge amount of moss that grows on them. So that's how the trek through the forest was, partially on land, then wade through water(yes my shoes were in my hand), then walk again with soggy socks and dirty shoes that poked because of the wild grass stuck to my wet feet. Finally after about a thirty such crossings, we got tired and rested on the rocks. 
In the mood for mischief , we started watering Con. And that snowballed into a major water play! (See pic). This went on till it got dark after which it was dinner and sleep, which would be too regular to blog about!End of the day, there was only one thought in my mind .....we should do more of this!!!
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
The First One
Everything that has a beginning has an end. And this is the end of my lethargy to make a blog. For months now, I've seen and read a lot of blogs. Some get personal, some are simply travel itineraries, and yet there are some which discuss issues that matter globally. The really good ones, as someone recently told me, talk about issues, as against views. That way you're giving your readers more freedom to explore both sides of the coin, rather than do what the media does - shed light only on one side.
So that's strikes me as my first topic. As bloggers , we either contribute to the filth on the web (some would call that "SPAM"), or we make a difference. So we're now part of the 'over hyping' media. The same media that lifts sportspersons to seventh heaven when they perform, and brings them down when they face a stroke of bad luck. What must the media do, then? What mustn't it do? In fact, what would an ideal paper or website look like?
Having chosen the issue, let's for a short time put ourselves in the shoes of a reporter or an editor of a weekly / daily and explore. As the one who runs the business, your primary aim is the viewer. To increase the TRP rating of your channel, it is content and content alone that would matter. Global awareness is a must . For example, most regional channels are very informative when it comes to issues in their state, but are miserably behind time when it comes to international issues. At the same time we have channels like NDTV which are almost instantaneous when it comes to international news and even governmental activities, but nil when it comes to state based events, unless they assume gargantuan proportions. What I'm trying to say is that when it comes to content, it has to cater to all sections of your audience. Rather than spend an hour on the top story, just interviewing related people, one could spend at least 15 minutes on the regional news. After all there are people down south also.
Coming to the process of view gathering, it brings into picture the issue of free press and media. In fact, the whole purpose of free press is to avoid the occurrences of the Hitler era, like the popularization of Aryan superiority and the false aggrandizement of Nazism. A free press thus is ideally supposed to report events as precisely as possible, and present it as honestly as possible to the public, without any bias. At the same time a good medium would provide a much needed platform for public debate and an opportunity for junta to explore both sides of the coin. In fact, in a democracy like ours, a powerful media would actually bring the high and mighty down to the public platforms and ensure that they are made answerable for their actions.
Thus we surmise that the ideal medium would have to focus on the following: (a) collection of information (b) Delivery of this information to the public and (c) Ensuring that the public gets a good platform to discuss stuff on.
With reference to collection of information, one can say this for sure. The two qualities that one looks for are (i) plain and simple honesty and (ii) Extensive nature of the news. The media, by all standards needs to be unbiased while collecting information. How can a biased reporter present both sides of the coin to his audience if he himself hasn't explored one side? Of course, that is not to say that incompetence alone drives such behaviour. The hand of politics does manage to find its way into making the media elements their own mouthpieces. The media is driven by the desire to make personal gain by creating ripples in society on the one hand, and by political / other forces on the other hand. In the midst of all this is lost the requirement for unbiased information
Even if the information collected is unbiased, it has to be extensive. By extensive it has to be large in depth as well as breadth of coverage. As I have already said, a good media must cover issues spanning the entire country, however seemingly insignificant they may be. A fisherman in Kerala would more likely be affected by a water processing plant set up near the coast (which might drive the fish away) than by the 25-day fast of Mamata Banerjee, whatever the reasons. That is breadth. That having been accepted, the depth of coverage must be proportional to the significance / extent of influence of the issue as such, and also on the amount of information that has been collected.
Coming to delivery of information there is of course the need for clarity of information. With the excellent education that we have in place in the country this, at least seemingly, is no longer a problem. However one thing that can and will make a difference is the use of powerful visual / auditory aids to boost information. Tell a child about the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings and he will simply mug up the whole without a thought for the gravity of the situation. But show him one picture of the atomic bomb cloud that hung over the dead city, or the after-effects of radiation, and he becomes empathetic instantly ! Thus the point I'm trying to make is that most reporters miss out on crucial bits of information which are best conveyed as auditory or visual rather than conveyed in the third person.
The next thing, and I hope at least some of you agree with yours truly on this, is that a medium has to be selective in how much of the information it actually broadcasts. Granted that people have a right to know what our leaders have said. Granted that people should know the full and complete truth without any masala. But there are some issues that do harm/cause unrest by their very mention. A case in point is with reference to the hanging of Saddam Hussein recently. It was reported that he died with a Koran in his hand and was highly religious right up to the very end. No offense being meant to any religion, it is a fact that this piece of information makes him look a changed man, at least in the last moments of his life, and adds fuel to the fire of revolt up against his execution. In my view, it would have done no harm if this piece of information was in fact hidden by the media. (Yours truly acknowledges that there might be views on this radically different from his own and welcomes dissent. After all, a good medium is supposed to provide a public platform for debate)
Finally, there comes the issue of offering a public platform for debate and dissent. Though I must say that this has gone only as far as newspaper columns and TV shows like the Big Fight and others, they are indeed very effective. In fact, vis-a-vis my earlier babble about issues versus views, these are the only outlet for actual views to reach the public. They must therefore be used very effectively. The only regret of mine is that they do not have enough reach to the audience. How many people can really sit in on that TV show. The only way the non-invitees can participate is by calling and more recently, by sending emails / sms. Technology for one, and net for another can surely help in increasing this reach. One new fad I find fairly attractive is the one-to-many chats that I have seen on rediff.com, where public figures sit down for an hour or two and are open to relevant questions from anyone online.
And thus I see that a mild pondering of such an issue can yield so many aspects to it. That makes me wonder. The media face so many issues daily - do they really ponder over even a few of them. If they do, I'd love to have a peek into their heads.
PS: Please leave your comments. I would find them invaluable.
So that's strikes me as my first topic. As bloggers , we either contribute to the filth on the web (some would call that "SPAM"), or we make a difference. So we're now part of the 'over hyping' media. The same media that lifts sportspersons to seventh heaven when they perform, and brings them down when they face a stroke of bad luck. What must the media do, then? What mustn't it do? In fact, what would an ideal paper or website look like?
Having chosen the issue, let's for a short time put ourselves in the shoes of a reporter or an editor of a weekly / daily and explore. As the one who runs the business, your primary aim is the viewer. To increase the TRP rating of your channel, it is content and content alone that would matter. Global awareness is a must . For example, most regional channels are very informative when it comes to issues in their state, but are miserably behind time when it comes to international issues. At the same time we have channels like NDTV which are almost instantaneous when it comes to international news and even governmental activities, but nil when it comes to state based events, unless they assume gargantuan proportions. What I'm trying to say is that when it comes to content, it has to cater to all sections of your audience. Rather than spend an hour on the top story, just interviewing related people, one could spend at least 15 minutes on the regional news. After all there are people down south also.
Coming to the process of view gathering, it brings into picture the issue of free press and media. In fact, the whole purpose of free press is to avoid the occurrences of the Hitler era, like the popularization of Aryan superiority and the false aggrandizement of Nazism. A free press thus is ideally supposed to report events as precisely as possible, and present it as honestly as possible to the public, without any bias. At the same time a good medium would provide a much needed platform for public debate and an opportunity for junta to explore both sides of the coin. In fact, in a democracy like ours, a powerful media would actually bring the high and mighty down to the public platforms and ensure that they are made answerable for their actions.
Thus we surmise that the ideal medium would have to focus on the following: (a) collection of information (b) Delivery of this information to the public and (c) Ensuring that the public gets a good platform to discuss stuff on.
With reference to collection of information, one can say this for sure. The two qualities that one looks for are (i) plain and simple honesty and (ii) Extensive nature of the news. The media, by all standards needs to be unbiased while collecting information. How can a biased reporter present both sides of the coin to his audience if he himself hasn't explored one side? Of course, that is not to say that incompetence alone drives such behaviour. The hand of politics does manage to find its way into making the media elements their own mouthpieces. The media is driven by the desire to make personal gain by creating ripples in society on the one hand, and by political / other forces on the other hand. In the midst of all this is lost the requirement for unbiased information
Even if the information collected is unbiased, it has to be extensive. By extensive it has to be large in depth as well as breadth of coverage. As I have already said, a good media must cover issues spanning the entire country, however seemingly insignificant they may be. A fisherman in Kerala would more likely be affected by a water processing plant set up near the coast (which might drive the fish away) than by the 25-day fast of Mamata Banerjee, whatever the reasons. That is breadth. That having been accepted, the depth of coverage must be proportional to the significance / extent of influence of the issue as such, and also on the amount of information that has been collected.
Coming to delivery of information there is of course the need for clarity of information. With the excellent education that we have in place in the country this, at least seemingly, is no longer a problem. However one thing that can and will make a difference is the use of powerful visual / auditory aids to boost information. Tell a child about the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings and he will simply mug up the whole without a thought for the gravity of the situation. But show him one picture of the atomic bomb cloud that hung over the dead city, or the after-effects of radiation, and he becomes empathetic instantly ! Thus the point I'm trying to make is that most reporters miss out on crucial bits of information which are best conveyed as auditory or visual rather than conveyed in the third person.
The next thing, and I hope at least some of you agree with yours truly on this, is that a medium has to be selective in how much of the information it actually broadcasts. Granted that people have a right to know what our leaders have said. Granted that people should know the full and complete truth without any masala. But there are some issues that do harm/cause unrest by their very mention. A case in point is with reference to the hanging of Saddam Hussein recently. It was reported that he died with a Koran in his hand and was highly religious right up to the very end. No offense being meant to any religion, it is a fact that this piece of information makes him look a changed man, at least in the last moments of his life, and adds fuel to the fire of revolt up against his execution. In my view, it would have done no harm if this piece of information was in fact hidden by the media. (Yours truly acknowledges that there might be views on this radically different from his own and welcomes dissent. After all, a good medium is supposed to provide a public platform for debate)
Finally, there comes the issue of offering a public platform for debate and dissent. Though I must say that this has gone only as far as newspaper columns and TV shows like the Big Fight and others, they are indeed very effective. In fact, vis-a-vis my earlier babble about issues versus views, these are the only outlet for actual views to reach the public. They must therefore be used very effectively. The only regret of mine is that they do not have enough reach to the audience. How many people can really sit in on that TV show. The only way the non-invitees can participate is by calling and more recently, by sending emails / sms. Technology for one, and net for another can surely help in increasing this reach. One new fad I find fairly attractive is the one-to-many chats that I have seen on rediff.com, where public figures sit down for an hour or two and are open to relevant questions from anyone online.
And thus I see that a mild pondering of such an issue can yield so many aspects to it. That makes me wonder. The media face so many issues daily - do they really ponder over even a few of them. If they do, I'd love to have a peek into their heads.
PS: Please leave your comments. I would find them invaluable.
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