Wednesday, February 10, 2016

Another Delayed Post

  As a blogger, I'd give myself 1outta 10.No discipline at all!Lots of drafts no actual posts!So having reproached                     myself enough I believe I should get on with blogging!
  A lot has happened since the last post!Mark Zuckerberg won a lot of accolades for poking around people's lives,with questions like 'What's ur mother's maiden name?' or 'What color did ur teacher paint her fingernails on October the 25th 1964?'
  Also, we successfully hosted the Commonwealth games with our polticos taking cue from the name  'Common' wealth and  decided that they were taking what was righfully theirs!There have been so many Kalmadi jokes that  some people expressed concerned that Rajnikant and santa banta would be laid to rest forever.

Examination...the Great Leveller!

   After the revelations of the back-benches I am compelled to follow it through with another hideously important aspect of any student-life....Exams....that freaky four letter word whose colloquial usage is usually preceded/succeeded by other unprintable adjectives(feigning ignorance is a crime).Exams....Its what gives parents jitters and sleepless nights, which they then try to pass on to their wards,usually to no avail.Exams....Its the one leverage in the hands of the Profs. as they try to tame an unruly bunch (usually a lost cause)... .Exams....The one thing in student life that is not solved by not turning up!So it is time to surgically cut through the mist(if that was possible) and separate myth and legend from the truth about... Exams.

  when Profs are returned to their senses after being forced to flirt with insanity borne out of endless frustration at not being able to imbibe anything substantial into 'em 'Thick skulls'

4 Years.....The End of an Era....

     As I reach the twilight of college life,I am compelled to look back at what has been an unbelievably breathtaking journey filled with memorable incidents.So much so, that as I write this post,I am filled with a sense of importance as great as what would have been felt by Nehru when he composed the 'Tryst with Destiny' speech.
     For someone coming from a totally dictatorial school(though I love it as much) college offered the kind of independence*  (* freedom would raise too many eyebrows) that was unimaginable.It was like when people imagined motion in 2 axes and some really awesome dude came up with the z-axis.College breathed meaning into all those oft repeated cliches but incomprehensible cliches like "You are the captain of your ship"...."master your destiny"...
     And talk about the people here!Wow,the blending time was non existent as was the awkwardness of initial acquaintance....By the end of the second night in college we were talking of football,girls and all other guy stuff!
I just love my batch!2k7 in many ways represented a transition in BIT,I'm told.Just months before we came in the LAN was perfected.Also we were allotted single rooms 

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

BIT Mesra College Life Excerpts Pilot

                College alas is no more. And given the present state of things its seems like an unreal dream ….. too good to be true. God! What life it was! The sense of reality hit me so hard…so hard that I’ve spent sleepless nights struggling to recollect if I(or we) really had it that good? Had it all been so uncomplicated?
                Among the best things about college were problems…. or the lack of them. There was nothing you couldn’t do! No authority so far removed that can’t be reached out to! If you couldn’t solve it there was the guy next door who could or he knew someone who could!
And the best part was a lot of things got sorted out even if you don’t turn up!
Assignment submissions?? You could always find that dude who says “F*** it man!! I’m not giving it till the last day of exams! Even XYZ (insert name of the topper here) isn’t giving it until next week! If these asses want to work their asses off let them…now let me get back to Family Guy! ”. Good Pep talk! I go back back to not giving a F***!! So the thing is I am not scared of taking risks like this! Just wanted to make sure there were enough rotten eggs(or good eggs) with me in the basket!
Weekly Journal submissions ?? Even more fun! It was Concrete Structures lab journal! Pappe and other fellows had written something like 6 experiments and even had time to cover their journals with brown sheet (Why they ever did never quite hit me!)I wake up at 9 and have a hearty breakfast of puri and channa . Check out the net to see if any new celebrity adopted an African kid or something. Then at 11 AM realization dawns on me that the lab is at 12:50. So I take my time acquiring someone’s completed journal. Much to my annoyance the Civil Dept has only two kinds of people: ones who have their journals ready well before time and others ….well, like me. And a lot of people from the former get converted into, irresponsible, non-journal writing louts, who didn’t give a damn about their less fortunate  non-journal writing ones as the semester wore on. Digressing! Ok its 11 am. I  am in search of a journal and the usual sources have already lent their journals to the poachers(A dangerous group who also don’t give a damn about finishing their journals, but think it is wise anyways to get their hands on a completed journal, just in case.)As usual, you tell yourself…you are an engineer! Think out of the box!
Thinking out of the box never quite helped me. By12:10 the urgency of the situation really hits me ,the usual defaulters are on course to completing their journals. Shit! Aaaah Rajeewa is done with it and is proudly flaunting the tidily covered journal in the corridor. Open my mouth to ask him if he’s taking his journal for a function of some sort. Hold myself up!!Do I really want to taunt someone who’s my only hope??Journal acquired with minimal fuss! Head to my room and bolt the door shut! Yikes half an hour only! Fully focused I flip through it and my heart sinks seeing 10-15 pages of neatly written experimental engineering gizmotic bullshit stuff, accompanied by tidily illustrated diagrams on every page.F***!! I would need a lifetime to complete this!! Look at my laptop and my gtalk is on…..need to change my status message…from that movie I saw last night! Put in a lot of thought into the status message! Somehow I am convinced that this would give me more focus! 10 minutes later and a status message that read…”Attempting the impossible ” I put pen to paper!
15 mins left! Halfway through page three, that was talking about last week’s experiment where I stuck a thermometer through half a dozen boiling beakers of tar at various levels of discoloration. The guy who lent his journal wants to fill up the Index sheet of his journal! How annoying! I try to convince him that there were people who had written less in their whole journal than he had in his index! But NO he wants to do it!
10 mins left…. NO way I can do this! Keep my door open and play some Floyd to soothe the tensions.
5 mins left..... Mental calculation.... assures me if I bunk today and attend the next 3 weeks of classes covered on the 75% attendance thing! Brilliant!!!
Bell Rings..... I am off to sleep! 
 NCC classes ?? : 12:30 pm Wednesday: one of those unlikeliest of unlikely days the Hostel 6 Mess (which on normal days serves un-likable, well uneatable lunches) serves great lunch of piping hot Khichdi with unlimited Pappad and Curd . Hearty meal done and head back to my room.
12:45pm: (As first years we could opt for Arts & Music, National Social Service (NSS), National Cadet Corps (NCC) or get pushed into PT Games by default) The PT guys are already out in their incredibly short shorts and T-shirts. Forget NSS guys! God knows where they disappear after lunch.
1:15pm: As luck would have it apart from me there’s only one other NCC guy in the hostel. He calls up ”Dude you wanna go?”

Me:”Let’s go at 2:30”
2:30pm: NCC Friend calls up again ”Dude….?”
Me:  ”gimme 15 mins I am about to finish this movie”
3:00pm: I call up my friend ”Dude…?”                                                                                                                                             
Friend ”Arey yaar!!! …am sleeping!But you go if you want to!”

       I look at my ridiculously Khakied and even more ridiculously small NCC outfit shoved rather haphazardly under my bed.I note that even if I had joined the NCC as a kindergartener I d still have had difficulty in pulling on those pants. Then I look out at the blazing sun and convince myself that only a mad man would walk all the way from the gate to the other end of the campus in the heat. The inexplicable humano-magnetic forces of my cosy bed also influence my decision. With a promise that I will not miss NCC classes from the next week I snuggle into my bed for my ‘Siesta’. Just before I doze off though, I mutter a word of praise for the soul who coined such a term and made sleeping in the afternoons an aesthetic if not fashionable thing alongside “Cheese tasting” and “Wine Tasting”.

Theory Classes: The best part about BIT has to be theory classes (among a whole host of other things, of course!). It would take me a whole book to describe how wonderful the classes were suited to everyone’s needs. in I believe there were 3 categories of people in college when it came to theory classes.
There were those who took it seriously and took copious notes. These were the first to arrive in class and settled down with pens at the ready well before the bell. This group consisted of the girls (of course!) and a small number of few guys, a number that could be counted with 2 fingers. The notes these people took down formed the basis of everyone’s preparation (well in most cases this was the only preparation).
Then came those who walked in just after the Professor had entered. These people just nodded on to whatever the Prof said while he was looking and taking advantage of other times to take a bite of an apple or sip a cool one. This formed a major part of the class including myself.
Then of course there were those who just didn’t give seriously didnt give a F***!!These were a gang of "outlaws" who lived dangerously and strolled in with the collars up and a no visible notebooks(Funnily! All of them usually carried a pen, never found out why? But then the desks cant decorate themselves can they?) They usually wandered into the classroom halfway thru the lecture and settled comfortably in the last bench. The last group was notorious for their pursuit of luxury in the last benches: dragging around the tables noisily unmindful of the fact that the Prof’s chalk had stopped midway thru some diagram and half the class was looking in their direction. When they settled (usually with a newspaper/novel/laptop/) though a restive calm prevailed over the class and business resumed. I belonged here in the wild, with the last benches! My habitat, my home!J
Also since a majority of Civil Engineering involved working on charts, we had huge desks with adjustable inclines. For me and a lot of others in the final category, this was a Godsend. We could set the incline really steep and spread our upper body over the desk like a specimen on a Surgeon’s operating table. While some had the audacity to snore, most of us last benchers just respectfully nodded off to sleep and when woken up by the lecturer, pretended to have missed out the some nuclear secrets and hastily scramble for pen and paper. We then engaged in furious note taking for the next 30 seconds until the lecturer cooled off his/her interest on us!
College to me was heaven itself! If ever there was anyway I could live those 4 years again, I would give just about anything up! Now I know whats all the fuss about college!

Disclaimer : F*** = FISH   :P

Monday, April 9, 2012


Siesta : the most blissfully sacred thing in a student’s life. And how people who dare disturb ones indulging in a siesta shall spend the rest of their 7 janmas in boilers of hell!! 

1:00 PM Picture this: A sunny afternoon, a four hour grueling session by various Civil Engineering lecturers [who insist on everyone keeping your pens busy while they impart some of the earthmoving, path-breaking (literally!!) concepts]is behind you, the day’s hard-work is behind you. A look at the freshly mown upper lawns of BIT is enough to bring memories of the cosy retreat of your room and the all comfortable cot. You hasten your way past the group of guys who always discuss the same things (Whos dating whom?) on the way back. Aaah!! the hostel comes into sight! You leave the wagging tongues and their tiresome topics far behind and skip your way to the entrance. With every last ounce of energy you can summon you reach your room. In one graceful movement you are inside and your bag is flung to the far corner of the room. In another rare display of dexterity and speed you are in comfortable clothes. Aaaah!Bliss!Peace!!....at this point mind goes into a reverie and somehow you end up trying to recollect all the synonyms of bliss that Barrons had taught you…..pointless…you give up … . Just then somebody outside is excitedly shouting that the exam dates are out! Another complains how hot the days have become…yet another spotted the Greyscale(the hostel dog) giving birth to an adorable pup…somebody else can’t understand what Jlo sees in her latest man…MORONS! …whatever! Now comes the moment of reckoning…..you could get out and face the endless problems that the world seems to have or seek refuge in the sprawling bed. Hell! Thats a no-brainer!. Give the world the (metaphorical or literal) finger! And collapse into the bed in one heap. Pull the thick razai on…aaah! DARKNESS  SILENCE  and most of all BLISS!!God if only this can last forever! Ohh! Shit the alarm!!Set the alarm for 4:00 pm and then ZZZZZZZZZZZ. I am in the deepest depths of my siesta. No dreams, no ambitions, no expectations, just darkness…. and flight…Comfortably numb!
Some wise guy once said good things come in teeny little amounts. How true!!A loud knock on the door..knuckle on metal…”Hello!ello!lo!..Is there anybody in there?” ..still knocking……your first reaction is to snuggle deeper into the depths of the rajai….this despite the one wise guy in your brain who tells you that it won’t help…..after mumbling feebly to the guy at the door to go away…..you give up and open the door…. Almost always it’s that pesky guy who lives next door and always seeks your counsel on his project topic(WTF? Dude we study together for the exams and you know that I know shit about these things…just like you!) or that guy whose broom you had borrowed before the dawn of time it would seem and who has come back to reclaim what is rightfully his or another who just knocks to and when you open asks you if you were sleeping(the all too common and irritating "So rha tha kya?")…you say "yes"….but to your growing irritation he shows no signs of moving……he instead begins on how wonderful his new mobile is….no signs of moving still…..he continues to talk about how he plans to get a new pair of shoes to which you nod helplessly and forcefully prevent yourself from abusing his entire clan……BASTARD!does not want to move….ohh he is making subtle expressions that he wants to come in….no way buddy… I am not letting you pass…I make myself big across the doorway…Hey!I could do this all day long…if I m lucky I can even nod of to sleep and he won’t notice…Pink Floyd ”….your lips move and I can’t hear what you’re saying…” ...still endless shit about his mobile….YAWN!....ohh!let my guard down… the sly fox slips under my arms and into my room…Pink Floyd ”…my hands felt just like two balloons” … and spreads himself on my bed….. “Arey yaar wake me up in an hour will you?” he says and then before your anger numbed brain can conjure some excuse to claim the bed…he is sound asleep. And Pink Floyd in all their glory beat out “…the child is gone…the dream is gone….and I have become comfortably numb"



Wednesday, February 2, 2011

An Ode to the backbenches!

           One of the greatest boons of the classroom education as compared to other forms(of which i have no idea)is the backbenches.Set up against the wall, with a view of the whole classroom (and of course the blackboard and lecturer), and with windows strategically located, the comfort of the back-benches is surreal.
So much so, that several occupants including the author have confessed that the sleep that one gets here is comparable to that of a baby's on a mother's lap.Everything, from the drone of the lecturers voice to the cosiness of  the seats and the inclinations of the desk ,if at the right levels, leads one to feel more at home than one's actual home.And comfort is not the only thing that draws people here.
          Safety...from being hunted down by wily profs whose sole aim is to contaminate your ignorance(or wordly knowledge) with calculus, Free body diagrams, recursive functions and so on.Right from school the warmth of the backbench has been alluring and has protected me from being besieged by the Rams' and Shyams' of the world who are always intent in selling stuffs(which notoriously often are apples or mangoes)at weird fractional profits or losses incomprehensible to the lively world of a teenager,or from the A's and B's of the world who swim towards/away from each other and start running in cirles or on race tracks at inhuman speeds for an inhuman amount of time,or from the alleged super-bird which flies to and from an approaching train and a post till....no! not until it drops dead but till the train hits it which would mean the same to you and me but no...the guys at would NCERT beg to differ.This was all till the tenth after which stuff became incomprehensible to even make fun of...the world of diodes and capacitors(A word of caution:these look deceptively simple but appearance belies a complexity fathomable only to gifted)..of Organic Chemistry where snakes bite their tails!?(no don't ask me where snakes came from because Messrs Morrison and Boyd have mentioned it and this and something about vampires not having mirror images were the only comprehensible pieces, amidst the pile of cyclic compounds,of billowing smoke from cauldrons(if there was smoke there had to be cauldrons rite?) and of precipitates.I am digressing I know...but someone had to take a snipe at all of the above!
        I still remember those pleasant lazy afternoons spent at back of my classes, at school,the wind blowing over the deserted (Gopalapuram) ground ....all this combined with the drone of the teacher teaching   Chemistry (theoretically it could have been anything other than English,but these details are as 'academic' now as they were then) and the heavy lunch of curd rice used to lull me off to sleep for a blissful couple of minutes before awakened by the understandably annoyed  teacher and the sound of the whole class chuckling!Over a period of time I (as did every bloke who used to doze of in class) mastered this art of feigning attention by nodding continuously with my head down.Sometimes I was also saved by a really helpful friend sitting beside who aroused me discreetly with a poke.
       In college,it was different!At first the lecture halls were a dream come true!The back-benches  and their occupants were in a shady world of their own, a world of no rules, a world of couples fooling around, of pranks and paper rockets.There was no stopping the 'backbenchers' as they were looking to top each other's deeds!Someone did push ups,another played music aloud,yet another came drunk(not verified but not impossible either) and dozed off! Emboldened by each other's successes sky was the limit! Towards the end we had full fledged DJs' whipping out music and crying out loud for dedications. In this regard a word of appreciation to the benign Prof.Sanjeev Gupta,who taught Physics(to the furniture atleast!), who could not be deterred by loud music, cheers and catcalls and went about teaching!And this the class acknowledged by cheering his entry every time and giving him a standing ovation after the lecture!His classes were so much entertainment that people from other classes flocked to the windows , or some even managed to get in!But the restive calm of the back-benches was lost until the second year.
      The Civil Dept. despite all its shortcomings,must be lauded for the huge drawing desks with adjustable inclines!The incline could be so steep that it became a solid wall behind which you could choose to pass time as you please.Except the occasional sadist, most Profs. disturb you only for your attendance.This left me with enough time to finish breakfast,catch up on the news and also at times draft the best football XI of the season.Occasionally I did try listening to lectures but these only drove me inscribe my name, my DC nick and several other insanely offensive stuff on the desks.So I would conclude by stating this : Protect Backbenches for a greener tomorrow!

    
         

Saturday, February 13, 2010

R.K.NARAYAN- TRULY ONE OF INDIA' S GREATEST WRITERS

      "The hardest of all things for a novelist to communicate is the extraordinary ordinariness of most human happiness... Jane Austen, Soseki, and Chekhov: a few bring it off. Narayan is one of them…” -thus remarked Francis King about one of the most charming masters of 20th century and his lovely, picturesque and larger than life creation ‘Malgudi’.


‘Malgudi’, the very sound of the name infuses a characteristic simplicity into the mind of the reader accompanied by a feeling of bliss. And when you actually sit down to read one of these novels, you feel a strange yet pleasurable feeling as the story unfolds with wizardry unique to R.K.Narayan. He was a real enchanter who wove emotions around this fictional haven set on the banks of the equally illusory yet quaint river Sarayu.

Almost all of his stories revolve around ‘Malgudi’ the most popular of them being “Swami and Friends”. This was Narayan’s earliest work and most popular too, being re-made into a T.V. Serial.He wonderfully portrays ‘Swami’ – a meek lad helpless at the hands of everyone from his rather stern father, his air-gun toting and club wielding friends to his strict Headmaster and of-course at the hands of fate. Yet he surprises everyone with his sudden bursts of energy and emotions and set of wild ideas. Swami’s day moves on like any other normal boy’s. Still the story is written with great skill that at times one can feel the childish innocence and predicament of Swami melting into oneself. This was followed by ‘The Bachelor of Arts’ where Narayan depicts the transition of a turbulent adolescent Chandran into a mature adult, falling in love but rejected due to astrological reasons, turning sanyasi and leaving home and finally embracing a job and a getting married to please his parents after all the emotional turmoil, in the process.

With the almost autobiographical ‘The English Teacher’, a thematic trilogy is complete. Elizabeth Bowen remarked about ‘The English Teacher’ “An idyll as delicious as anything I have met in modern literature for a long time. The atmosphere and texture of happiness and above all, its elusiveness have seldom being so perfectly described”.

Equally pungent are Narayan’s short stories often remarked to be more pungent than the famous Madras curry. These were welcome diversions for Narayan from his monotony of writing novels. Similarly, one can notice that in all of these tales humor and tragedy are deftly put together notwithstanding the artistic innocence (sometimes gullibility) of the central character haplessly tormented by emotional outbursts of love, lust, fear etc. Another important aspect is the gentle irony portraying the variety and colour of Indian life with the occasional bourgeois influence. Almost all stories in “Malgudi Days” end on a sad note. And all these are not entirely fiction. Narayan has laced the stories with memories of his own life.

Though most stories have a rather meek and gullible protagonist, to brand his stories as stereo typed would be quite unfair. Take for example “A Tiger for Malgudi” which is recounted by a tiger possessing a human soul, breaking free from a circus, and travels into town only to be recaptured by a sage and eventually seeks enlightenment. The story was so different and so thought provoking that ‘The London Times’ remarked “Narayan’s teasing wit and insight into human (and tiger) nature”.

Another fitting exception is “Grandmother’s Tale” written as told to him by his grandmother, the story of his great grandmother. Bala (his great grandmother) is married at seven but her ten year old husband runs off to Pune along-with some pilgrims. As years pass her husband is believed to be dead and she is frowned upon by society for not moving about like a widow. Eventually she goes out in trace of him and finds him in an alien land (Poona) where he is a thriving jeweler ,admired and respected and married to another woman. With the same resolve that brought her all the way from the south, she effects a dramatic ouster of the first wife and takes him back to the south where she settles down with him as the perfect picture of a caring and submissive wife. One cannot fail to appreciate the fabulous delineation of Bala from an innocent girl to a determined young woman and finally to a quiet orthodox Hindu wife.

Some of the other Malgudi novels are “The World of Nagaraj” “The Vendor of Sweets”, “The Guide” (made later into a film by Dev Anand) to name a few. Besides, there is also an entrancing memoir ‘My Days’, in which Narayan describes his own life in Madras and later on in Mysore and New York. This book is all about the world of a writer whose perception of human comedy is at once acute and forgiving, larger than life and always true to it. The author also has several essays and compilation of retold legends to his credit. In all these he establishes his special hold on human imagination.

Geographically his novels point to Malgudi being halfway between Trichinopoly and Bangalore. Still,many of his avid readers have enquired about the location of Malgudi. To one such query, he remarked that if Malgudi was said to be in South India only half the truth would be expressed, for the characters of Malgudi seemed to him to be universal.

Narayan won numerous awards during the course of his literary career. His first major award was in 1958, the Sahitya Akademi Award for The Guide. Six years later, he received the Padma Bhushan during the Republic Day honours of 1964.In 1980, he was awarded the AC Benson Medal by the (British) Royal Society of Literature, of which he was an honorary member. He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Literature multiple times, but never won the honour.

Towards the end of his career, Narayan was nominated to the Rajya Sabha for a six-year term starting in 1989, for his contributions to Indian literature. A year before his death, in 2000, he was awarded India's second-highest civilian honour, the Padma Vibhushan. Eminent personalities have heaped praises on Narayan’s work including Lord Mountbatten and The Queen of England herself.



“A gem for everyone from eight to eighty sounds like an old cliché but that is exactly what the fables of Malgudi are.”



NOTE: This article is actually a slightly modified version of what I had written 3 years ago.