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.