The wheel goes round

2010-10-22T03:59:00.001-07:00

dil ki baat...

2010-10-22T03:41:00.001-07:00

dil ki baat...

2010-10-22T03:37:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

common WEALTH

2010-08-20T17:10:00.000-07:00

Commonwealth games are about to begin in a few days. And even before they begin, they are already turning out to be a revelation. And why not, they have gathered enough publicity for all wrong reasons. There are so many skeletons that have been let out of the cupboard and so much more that wait in the wings to be unleashed when we least expect them to.

But then let me look at it differently. What if I had been an official in charge of handling contracts for commonwealth games? What if I had been a politician having considerable clout over the games. What if I were to manage a major chunk of funds? What if I knew there was little or no chance of me getting caught. What if I knew that I was not alone in the crime, and that I had partners known and unknown scattered all over. What if I knew that even if I was caught, it would be extremely difficult to prove me guilty? What if I were aware that even if caught red handed I could always bribe my way through the system? What if I knew that the Commonwealth games were a lifetime opportunity to create some wealth of my own? What if I knew it and also the same idea had been reinforced by others on me time and again that if didn’t do it, someone else definitely will.

What if I knew the Commonwealth games' wealth was provided for by the common man but could be exploited by anyone who had anything in 'common' with the Games? All you needed was to play well.

What if I were the one who had paid bribes for every certificate he had to obtain. What if the only lure I had to join a govt. job was not the salary but what topped it. What if lubricating my way through the system was normal for every bolt and nut and hinge was now rusted. What if the people managing these systems had forgotten to get it serviced time and again. What if the system itself had run out its utility and was a chunk of scrap metal which was forcing to operate the way we wanted it to. It made sounds, broke down, cracked but we would not leave it; we would not repair it; and yet night and day we would curse it.

If a decision is called for, the commonwealth games build up seems like a farce and all involved in the multiple multimillion scams are guilty. But we ignore the larger picture.

Let the games begin…..

Virtual Buddha

2010-08-07T15:08:00.000-07:00

One day I was out in the country. Away from the hustle and bustle of the city I was providing my lungs the luxury of some fresh air. I was completely at leisure and feeling calm and serene. I thought this was another world. May be somebody in good faith had put me inside a time machine and I had travelled back in time by atleast a century. I looked as far as I could see, and I spotted not a single motor driven machine. I saw the birds flying and making various shapes as their flights one after the other went over me.

I saw the water in the pond and it was clear; clear like the morning dew and in it was reflected the light of the evening sun- reddish. I saw the old banyan tree, with its ageing branches and the roots hanging from them. It said that timelessness was a quality to be understood and preserved. I walked up to it and now it was almost dark. But darkness was nothing but the absence of light. Soon there were hundreds and thousands of fireflies around me, and everything became illuminated. I saw wise old owl perched right on my shoulder as if whispering those words of wisdom in to my ears.

I felt enlightened like the Buddha. This was my own Bodhi tree.

But then I walked, for stagnation was as good as resignation. So I walked across the fields in the moonlit night. I saw rows of huts and wells and small granaries. As dawn approached and the eastern sky started turning crimson, I saw bare-chested men sleeping in the open wearing nothing but loin clothes after a long vigil through the night to protect their crops. As morning descended, I washed at a spring and it was the sweetest water I ever drank. I felt blessed and thanked God for everything he had provided mankind with. My hands folded, I kneeled down under the blue sky and my lips said a silent prayer. It was heavenly and like a dream. I never wanted to wake up.

Suddenly there were bright lights and then total darkness. I felt as if I had been sleeping. Then I remembered that voice. I had been there at the start instructing me to breathe easy and relax. Now it said:

“Abhishek, your balance of Rs. 1.5 lakh has come to an end, so we have had to terminate your ‘virtual bliss’ session abruptly. Kindly recharge to avail of our services. To know about premium offers press 8, to listen to……… blah, blah and blah”

Hell!! I thought. This was just virtual reality. How could anything like that be actually true? And I walked out on the street where vehicles were zooming past me. Some of them skidded on the street while most were up in the air zooming past apartment windows, none of which were open. There was a lot of noise and even more billboards. Even the sidewalks carried advertisements that were changing. Promotional campaign was being played in the open air (not on a screen) at all places through the similar virtual reality techniques. It was difficult to tell real from virtual. Perhaps the more perfect they looked; the further they were from reality. And then I spotted my own public carrier as the device in my ear announced its arrival. As I was vacuum-sucked in to with maximum comfort, my thoughts took me again below that Bodhi tree. I felt foolish for not realizing that something as wonderful could only be virtual.

Hardly did I know then that hordes and hordes of our ancestors were laughing at us and crying at the same time.

Breaking News

2010-08-03T16:39:00.000-07:00

There was a time when Doordarshan used to air news twice a day. Then came in liberalization and cable television and there were dozens of channels. Competition set in big time. So the usual strategies of marketing had to be applied. Some became generalists while others specialized.

Some channels applied STP, and even Porter and Kotler would have been proud. Hence were born the hindi news channels.

Segmentation: Desperate housewives, Grumpy husbands, carefree teenagers, just about anybody who had time

Targeting: Catching attention when surfing channels

Positioning: As live entertainment. Blurring boundaries between fact and fiction.

So when there was no news, it could be created and manufactured. It became news when Dhoni sneezed. They suddenly found aliens. They rediscovered Ravan’s Lanka and his private jet 'pushpak'.

They suddenly knew about celebrity affairs even before it happened. They knew about actresses’ cat fights, their fantasies, and their diet plan, their puppy, their toilet floor tiles and even their lingerie.

They made heroes and villains at the drop of a hat. And of course make a celebrity of common women and men. As prince the child went for a toss in a trench, he came out victorious and a national celebrity. Suddenly it was a media trend. More and more children started falling in trenches to attain that elusive ‘princedom’.

Here I present some of the actual headlines ( of course collected from multiple online sources…. How I am jealous of their creative facilities) :

· AMITABH BACHCHAN KO THAND LAGI (Big B catches cold)

· Chajje pe billi rani (cat on the terrace)

· COMMISSIONER KA KUTTA MILA (commissioner’s dog found )

· Sanjay Dutt ate only fruits in jail (as if we care)

· Dhoni gets a new haircut. (getting a haircut seems to be more important than getting runs)

· Junglee Chudel ne aurat ke baal khiche (wild female ghost pulls the hair of a woman....newer traits of ghosts)

· Hatyara baap beti ke pyaar ka dushman (murderer daddy enemy of daughter’s love)

· Aaj hogi Shivani ki shaadi (shivani marries today…. But who is she????)

· KYA KEHTA HAI AAPKA BHAVISHYA…ABHI PHONE KIJIYE (dial to know your future…………..but they missed the terror strikes and the recession…howcum)

· Kya prince gaddhe se nikal paayega (will prince be out of the hole)

· World cup me jeet ke liye anushthan (religious ceremony to win the world cup)

· They even predicted the end of ‘Kaliyug’

And there’s more to come…..

Kaliyug doomed to its end……and ..and There would be ‘Satyug’ again

And many more….Changez Khan and Timur to re-emerge from history books and attack….…….

And how a ghost steals your clothes (from where.. ...wardrobe, laundery or your body)

About secret chants and your pleas to goddesses …….Who the hell is Madan maharaj???? :)

And some more….. like they found this soul emerging from the earth…and a dwarf from the

deep..'horror' !!

So what is the learning……

Now after going through a couple of marketing courses last year and some niche courses this year…

You know that what you have just seen is revolutionary…

· It brings forth the latent demand for useless news
· Our sadist instincts and fears inside us (attacks of Timor and ‘Chudail’ stories)
· Uses celebrities for free advertising (Amitabh, Dhoni) Cost cutting measures
· Zero cost product (news out of nowhere)
· Now-a –days has expanded to laughter shows and film music…. And yes…BABA RamDev

The result:

· Happy housewives and saved marriages as TV kept them from fighting
· New lease of life to religion…as the world was ending
· Large revenue gain for all kinds of tantriks, bangali babas, astrologers as the culture catches up
· Prospective cricketers taking good care of their mane
· Any news is good news
· Creativity is inversely proportional to the availability of quality news
· News the best form of complete entertainment

Well that's breaking news .....

S/HE

2010-03-13T14:08:00.000-08:00

The sun was setting. It was a red and orange sky. But soon black would take over and it would be dark. Dark for some hours before the sun returned from its sabbatical. Everyone needs a break. Well almost everyone. But not your heart, not your mind – no, they need to work all the time. Even when we are deep in slumber or dreaming wide eyed. For if they stopped, we would stop. So they work night and day without complaining for they know stopping once means stopping forever. Life would never give them a second chance. We must keep our hearts healthy and our brains sound. This was a good conclusion. But she felt she should hurry now for she was standing on the banks of Yamuna river and foul stench filled her lungs. Staying there for few more moments would anyway mean death irrespective of however hard the heart and the brain tried. Over the years the Yamuna had got reduced to a mere drain of black filth discarded by the city of Delhi. This black glowed in the red of the day’s last light. Very soon black would prevail.

She walked away from the bank. She walked to the road and hired a rickshaw.

“Where to?” – asked the driver.

“Connaught place. How much?” Better to negotiate the fair beforehand, she thought or Delhi rickshaw drivers could loot you.

“Seventy rupees and not a penny less.”

“But I paid sixty just yesterday.” She had no idea of the fare anyway.

“I don’t deny that. You would have paid it, but it is getting dark. We don’t get customers on the return trip.” People could justify things easily.

Fair enough, she thought.

“OK just make it quick. I am in bit of a hurry.”

Delhi was as busy as always - lights and billboards and people. The air smelt better gradually and soon the stench was gone. Delhi air had definitely become better in recent years. They now used compressed natural gas or CNG as fuel. Every mode of public and private transport was running of CNG. There were more trees too. But today the stench remains in her nostrils. The streets, shops and landmarks zoomed past her as the scene got blurred and mixed. The auto rickshaw driver was playing a hit and groovy Bollywood number. At times the only emotion you feel is numbness and a strong desire to throw up.

Cool fresh air is what doctors always recommend. It does a lot good to you. She felt better when she got out of the rickshaw. Seventy rupees were paid in haste. She definitely looked as if in a great hurry. Showrooms zoomed past one after another. It was this apparel store and that one. Garments were picked up at random and then put down. Thus she walked and kept walking. There was the Mercedes showroom by which she stopped and watched for a minute or two, and then shifted her gaze away. Her cell phone was ringing but she cared the least about it. The message beeps interspersed with phone calls created some kind of stupid music and made fellow pedestrians stare, but oblivious to the accompanying cacophony she walked. The multiplex was showing five movies all at the same time. Movies changed as often as we changed sheets or at times relationships.

With time the streets got less crowded, then lonelier and then deserted. A girl walking alone at night attracts attention and much less of the good kind. And the state in which she was, attention was inevitable. The sound of metal catches her attention. She looks up to see a shutter coming down. She looks around to find fewer humans than were enough to get lost in; fewer shops to walk in and walk out. She could also spot the only rickshaw, enough to carry her away. The cold night air gushed past her. It moistened her eyes and then dried them too. She wasn’t wearing any warm clothes and didn’t even carry her stole, but felt nothing as the shivered. Outside one dark shape merged with another with steaks of light in between. Everything got mixed up. In gushes of cold air she could hardly find enough breath. Outside was like vacuum. Inside too was a vacuum.

The keys lay under the doormat safe as ever. The apartment looked exactly the same as she had left it. A bottle of vodka, uncapped and half empty waited in silence, as the air smelt of it. The cushions lay on the floor and there was a colony of ants all around it. She had spilled coke on them. Rest of the scene looked usual.

One could be happy in love, one could feel nice but they in love were hilarious. She was a happy-go-lucky kind of a girl who found the city apt for her exploits. She had been in to relationships, one too many. None lasted even for a month and she was fed up of jerks, all landing in her way but none suiting her palate. He was usually quiet and unusually talented. They had known each other for as long as they had known Delhi. They had occupied apartments opposite each other. She studied literature while he pursued fine arts. Your subjects always reflect in your persona. She was effervescent, moody and quirky with a clumsy sense of humor, while he was calm, patient and stable. What started as a few occasional good mornings gradually ended up in bewitching mornings after some steamy nights. You place or mine didn’t matter. It was like perfection and they set about improving it. Someone did develop a sense of humor and someone got responsible. He left her notes all over the place with funny clues which invariably revealed her either in charcoal or oil on canvas or water color. It looked as if he would fill the whole apartment with her only. She adored the walls in all her versatile moods. It was poetry sans words.

She discovered she could sleep sound and get up before it was ten. And that all men were not jerks, though vice-versa still remained true. It was all very nice. They went to movies like every couple but they also went to exhibitions and poetry readings. None understood the other’s craft much but none the less appreciated it. She had never felt so secure in anybody’s arms. And for him, she was his world.

It became better still with each passing day. They worried about nothing- not the future, not their families, nothing that could interrupt. It was fun and very enchanting, almost intoxicating. But for her, she seemed to start getting lost. She could not stand this perfection. Somehow it started getting boring for her. How could someone bind flowing water? A lioness in the city remained just that- a lioness, sedated for a while but intrinsically wild. She could feel it all fading away for no reason she could explain, but deep within she knew it would not last. He on the other hand was making the most of everything. Life for him had changed for better in so many ways. A loner had a girlfriend and the image of her beautiful face hardly let his feet fall on the ground. He was very happy oblivious of all that was churning in the mind of his beloved. He thought he could read her eyes, but the eyes that revealed could also conceal.

That was a wonderful evening. Wonderful for it was Friday, and the cushions seemed extra soft. In the dim light of the candles and the mild and sweet smelling flowers, the apartment looked pleasantly different. He looked at her in charcoal, oil on canvas and water color. She smiled at him in color and in the rich black of charcoal. He could feel her around him. In a few moments she would arrive. He waited in silence with her on the walls, in his heart. The dials moved with care and caution for the coming moments required vigil as time could sense what awaited it.

The door opened with the usual little creak. A pair of sandals walked in carrying in them weary legs; weary not of work but of contemplation. The eyes that tried hard to see reason in thought and action looked around at the dimly lit ambience as it met another gaze; a gaze of love and welcome and hands that prepared her drink – vodka with coke. One hand extended the drink while the other took it – one that was warm and the one that was cold. A pair of eyes that were once deep enough for him to sneak a peek in to her heart seemed frozen. He could sense it now. The smiles in charcoal, oil on canvas and watercolor looked different. He could now feel what the dials knew. He felt betrayed and was mad at them, but realized that they were only adhering to her will. Now only a verbal sentence was awaited. He could feel the noose tightening, his feet struggling, eyes popping out and his tongue wriggling. The smiles in charcoal, oil on canvas and water color now looked evil and deathly. He felt cornered and helpless.

There was no reason, no complaints, nothing. There was no explanation and very few words. He knew it was over. How could someone walk out just like that? She did not love him anymore. He stood there like stone not knowing what to do. Those crowding around them with the vicious smiles offered no help. The black of charcoal as if darkened their souls and the love got colored in a way that it no longer remained love; just colorful moments of the past. Years down the line he would tell about her to his grandchildren - tales of a girl of unsurpassed beauty who stole his heart only to murder it later; false hopes of a life that was never to be. In her eyes he saw nothing; no sign of love that should have lasted years, rather forever. After standing there for what seemed like millennia, he finally left. A lifetime had just been cut short, a story terminated abruptly.

She sat in the dimly lit apartment soaking in someone’s love surrounded by her in charcoal, oil on canvas and water color as if she felt nothing. The glass kept getting filled and refilled till the wee hours of the morning. Then she walked out to merge with the crowd to forget herself, as if long ago she knew someone and now he was gone.

Pappu passed

2010-03-04T14:30:00.000-08:00

India as you know it wasn’t as it is forever. It wasn’t always a land of computer professionals and outsourcing. It was neither so competitive nor so fast. Everything went on at a mundane pace. There was time for that afternoon siesta and enough moments to stand and stare. Mobiles did not exist and telephones were rare. In fact you got a telephone ten years after you booked one. There was only one TV channel and it showed programs in slots like we now have water coming three times a day in cities. We loved our Sunday movies and the prime time serials. We also loved to stop our bicycles at the roadside and chat. We viewed those with automobiles in awe. One with a Bajaj scooter was a man of dignity. Watches were worth their jewels and had to be wound up to show the correct time. A majority of us loved our radios more than our books. We had helped India win few and lose many a cricket match on our radios. I still don’t understand why the newer and sleeker radios were called transistors. But one thing is still common. Even then we were die hard cricket fans. And we never lost hope.

It so happened as it happens with every kid, that after enjoying the blissful and carefree journey of my childhood, I suddenly grew up. Though growing up was not as sudden as its actual realization. I had spent my childhood watching movies of Amitabh Bachchan. His persona of an angry young man had taken over my mind. It was my belief that like my amusingly ever angry idol, I would be able to fight every difficulty with ease. Initially I would do it with some chic dialogues and if it didn’t work then some neat punches and well directed kicks would definitely do. It worked for even the lesser mortals like Jeetendra and Dharmendra. In case you are wondering who these guys are? Well then my dear reader you surely need to update. Jeetendra, Dharmendra, Rishi, Shashi and the man himself- Amitabh Bachchan are the purest and the bravest of men ever known. They have prevented many a crime, saved the honor of many a women, and arrived at crime scenes well before the police time and again. My faith in them strengthened with every movie they acted in. In fact these were the masters who taught me about dignity of labour, self respect, mother’s love, the value of sister’s ‘rakhi’ and so many other lessons. They gave me the firm belief that a hero never fails.

So life would be like a Bollywood movie. But wait. Wasn’t there something that was missing? Something kept this frame from being picture perfect or what we call - ‘perfect shot Bachchan Saab’. Yes I know what I was missing in this frame- ‘the leading lady’. I, being the hero of my film deserved the best lady, because heroes always got the best girls. It was another matter whether they deserved them or not. But the girls seemed to like everything about these ‘heroes’. If he was smart, she loved it. If he was foolish, it was his simplicity. These ladies would throw away their riches and ditch their family to be with the ‘hero’ in his modest hut while he earned only a meager salary. All heroes were ladies’ men to the hilt. Even the crooked girls with the villains were crazy about them. Yes the same girls who bared their legs and danced around poles. The villains thought the girls adored him, while the girls loved nothing but their poles. The affinity still shows in the videos. Anyways the crux of the matter is, I didn’t have my lady love and I still had to find her.

Now finding a girl for yourself and the one that fits your kind of a frame is not an easy task. Very few fitted the bill and hardly anyone in my knowledge was willing. I am admitting this fact now, but in those days the very thoughts of denial and rejection never crossed my mind. For ‘heroes’ got what they wanted and moreover I was a Bachchan fan. It was these very important thoughts that kept my mind occupied in that chilly winter, when one fine day the results of my graduation were declared. No there were no surprises. There were only bomb shells that waited with baited breath to burst on me. You would be thinking that I had failed or something and now life would change. You are partially right. Life did change.

Pappu Prasad, yes that is me, had become the only person from his family ever to obtain a graduation degree. I know you are wondering how this could be my name. I know this name is not hero like but you can only blame my parents for that. They were born in the era of Ashok Kumar and may be talkies were just coming of age in their times. What else could you expect? But we are not discussing my name right now, because I had just landed in the eye of a tornado. This again would surprise you. You would say that to be the first and only graduate from one’s family is an honor or something and that I should be proud of it. Yes I should have been proud, but anyone would have cried had he been in my situation. At least I held back tears.

But like everything else this too would warrant an explanation. You see I was the son of the proprietor of a famous sweetmeat shop. The shop was called ‘Dilkhush sweets’ or sweets that kept your heart happy. I had planned to fail in the exam and then daydream like I always did with nothing to worry about. I helped my father manage the shop cum restaurant, if you could call it one, during my spare hours when I wasn’t building castles in the air. In college there were hardly any classes as half the time one student group or the other called for a strike. The other half was occupied by the teaching staff’s strike for higher wages. Some years we had examinations, some years we didn’t have them. The results took and unusually long time to be declared as compared to today’s times.

Our results had been declared more than a year after the exams. Meanwhile I had even forgotten that a result was awaited. There were reasons for it. By hook and crook I had been able to scale the intermediate exams. During those exams twice I had been seriously warned by the invigilators as they suspected me copying. It was sheer luck that they never got hold of the multiple paper chits that I carried in my socks and under the cuffs of my shirt. But graduation was a different ballgame altogether. It was beyond me, and I had given up. I hardly wrote anything in my answer sheets. I had decided what my course of life was going to be. It would be nothing spectacular. Like all brats of the town my years would be spent in the front rows of the cinema, chatting on the corner of the road and cycling through the lanes of the town. Occasionally a new girl would be spotted and we would follow her and stare at her. No we weren’t bad guys as you might be thinking. The girls never knew we did this. And which guy doesn’t stare at a good looking girl? And of course I would help my father with his business and gradually years later when it was time to take up responsibilities, I would take it up all. I would also be married to a girl of my community and life would continue.

You would say that I should be happy that I passed. It would open up so many opportunities. My father thought the same. I knew if it was academics I had to pursue, I had already lost it. I was dead sure that the result was a mistake. It was not very common. But it happened. Because of some clerical error, now I was doomed to leave behind my childhood friends, my beloved front rows, the dusty roads of the town and the hopes of finding the love of my life in my neighborhood. My father was confident that I would land up a government job. I could already hear the telephone ringing in his ears and his eyes glowed with a pride only seen in the eyes of Bajaj scooter owners. Yes I was being dispatched to the city.

I tried to reason with my overjoyed, over the moon father. My mother supported me meekly. You know how mothers are. She wanted me to stay. But it was futile. My father would not let go this wonderful opportunity to boast around and the rich dowry that a government job commanded slip away so easily. You would ask me what this hullaballoo about a government job is. So let me tell you that in those times all these multinationals had not yet come knocking at our doors outsourcing jobs because India offered cheap labour and good services. The private sector’s role in the generation of employment was negligible. So the only well paid and respectable jobs were the government jobs. Unlike today, even the word ‘babu’ or a clerk commanded some respect in those days.

The story now had taken a sharp turn. From being smooth the road was now bumpy and uncertain. The last few days in the town were spent cycling in the old lanes and catching up with all mates. I tried to capture the faces of all the beautiful lasses we had stared at since we were kids. By the time I returned they would probably be all married and gone. I watched a couple of movies in the front rows and whistled and hooted with my buddies. They were happy for me and still wondered how I cracked the exam when none of them could. The pass percentages had been one of the lowest this time. I never knew anything myself any better.

And so this was how I was packed off to the city with high hopes of my father. My mother too had high hopes but more than that it were her tears that were evident. And yes she had also sent me with the last home cooked meal that I would have on the train and had prepared for me some sweets that would last me a couple of weeks. As the train left I could feel the corners of my eyes getting wet. Gradually it started picking up speed and my parents and friends moved away from me as though a video cassette player was rewinding while the scene was being played on the TV.

Pebbles from the riverside

2010-02-28T11:27:00.000-08:00

She was panting and panting heavily. Her clothes were soiled and she was all covered with dust. But that didn’t seem to worry her at all. She tugged at Michelle’s skirt.

“Hurry or they will kill her.”

“What? Whom?”

“They will kill the baby. The milk is already boiling.”

Michelle knew she had lost it. The Mission establishment was two kilometers from the village. But she had to go. She asked Ram Singh to take out the car. The milk was boiling. It would take some twenty minutes for the rituals and then the baby would be put inside a boiling pot of milk. It would then take only half a minute to die. The car would take about five minutes. She should be able to reach there. As she pondered over all this, she had actually reached there. Hastily they moved out of the car, the three of them- Michelle, Ram Singh and Radha. Radha was the girl who brought the news.

They rushed towards the ‘chabutara’, the platform built around the peepal tree. Peepal or the banyan fig, also called the sacred fig. The baby must have been brought here. They were right. There was a procession getting ready. Women were sobbing in their eyes. The men looked triumphant, their chests puffed with pride. The whole village had gathered. Ashes and half burnt logs were lurking in a corner. It looked like someone had poured water over the fire. There was still smoke rising from it. It was a ceremony. The whole crowd had gathered. Women made a small gathering and were watching proceedings. The men as if got ready for war. Every man looked inspired enough to win a gallantry medal. And then they saw it. A small pitcher carried by a middle aged man. He shot a glance towards the women. For a moment a fleeting shadow of remorse passed across his face. But he was jubilant again.

Michelle had rightly calculated that they would take about twenty minutes for the rituals while she would reach there only in five minutes. What she forgot was that it took Radha twenty minutes to reach her. She was right initially to think that she had lost it. But that did not matter anymore.

The villagers had been successful as they mostly were. She lost it as she mostly did.

She asked them to stop. They laughed at her. They nearly always did.

“The baby was stillborn.” One of the village headmen shouted.

“Sure it was. But why is it that only girls are stillborn?” Michelle would not give in today.

“Memsaab these are all writings of fate?” - said one.

Added another-“What has to happen will happen.”

This was the most usual explanation. Fate meant the word of God. Challenging the writings of fate meant going against His will.

“I demand an autopsy.” She retorted. “We will do an FIR.”

FIR or the ‘First information report’ that is filed at a police station to report that a crime has occurred. Without this the police don’t take action. Its another matter that usually in India the police doesn’t admit FIRs easily. It means added workload and who wants to work in a free country.

“Go ahead and do whatever you want to memsaab. Do you really think they will file a report?”

The village headman had come near and now stood facing her. Some more men joined in, most of them were headmen or the ‘panch’.

“You think you will file the report and we will let you do it.”

“Police asks for proof and you have none. The current ‘thanedaar’ is from our ‘biradari’ and our village too.”

‘Thanedaar’ referred to the officer in charge at the police station. ‘Biradari’ referred to one’s clan. In most of India caste was the divisive factor but not in this village. The whole village belonged to one caste. They differentiated between themselves with their clans. What if a village had only one clan? What would they have done then?

So there was no question of a police case. The woman could now be shown glimpses of chauvinistic pride. After all the ‘thanedaar’ being from their clan meant he would never register an FIR.

“So madam, go ahead. Go to the police.”

They now surrounded her. She looked around. Ram Singh was still with her but very afraid. These were villages where the panchayat reigned supreme. Panchayat was the council elected by the people. But elections were held just because they had to be held. Members were elected unopposed. Never ever had a single vote been polled against them. Some had shown courage seeking to oppose them in elections. They lost and later each one of them had been lynched to death. Their bodies had been found hanging on trees, stuck in drains or rotting in fields.

“Don’t get in the way of a holy task. The sacrifice has been carried out. Now the Goddess will be satiated and I will have a son.”

This was Nameswar. It was his child that had been sacrificed today. The Goddess or the ‘kuldevi’ was the divine protector of his clan. There was no sadness in his eyes; eyes blinded by superstition.

“This pitcher contains the offering to the Gods. It must be floated in the river. All must be done to please the kuldevi.”

Michelle could bear no more. Tears welled up in her eyes. She was pushed aside by someone. Somebody threatened Ram Singh. Somebody cursed. She lay on the ground bruised. Radha came running towards her. The procession marched on with the beating of drums. The crowd formed by women was mute. Michelle knew their hearts wept. Which mother could bear the murder of her own child in front of her eyes and that too by her own people? But the women of this village had come to terms with their destiny. More than two young girls were rare in a household, but Nameswar’s wife had borne her three daughters one after another. This was the fourth. The whole village thought Nameswar had sinned by not offering the girls to ‘kuldevi’. The birth of sons was auspicious but not daughters. How ironical it was- on one hand the villagers worshipped God in the female form, on the other they drowned their own newborn girls in boiling milk. It was not worship. It was savagery.

The pitcher contained the dead child. It would be put in the river after the village priest had offered prayers. All believed that it would please the ‘kuldevi’ and such sacrifices would keep the natural forces and disasters at bay. Who was to blame for such superstition and ignorance? The answer lay in finding who benefitted from it.

It was almost dark when Michelle opened her eyes. She had become unconscious in the village. Her forehead was bruised, but more than that it was her utter helplessness which made her sick. She was back in her small room and surrounded by some women, Radha and Ram Singh. Everyone looked sad. One woman was placing a wet cloth on her forehead. Other sat in muted silence. She slowly looked around and then sat up. Someone supported her on to a pillow. Radha looked at each one of them. They diverted their gaze to the floor. No one spoke. Not a word for what seemed like ages. The air became glum. The darkness of the moment was seeping inside their hearts and making it heavy. It choked their lungs. There was no light, and no one had prepared food. Then it was heard- a faint sob. The women looked up at each other in to one another’s eyes. They were all red and swollen. There was a sound or two more. Some more sobs and it started. The women wailed and cried helplessly. Away from the gaze of their husbands and village heads and priests they cried their hearts out; for what else could they do. They cried for all that was lost and that would be lost. They cried for their daughters whom they could never press against their bosom, could never feed them or play with them. Hardly any meals were cooked in the village that evening and there was hardly any light. After the public display of chauvinism and celebrations, the villagers were mourning in person.

Nameswar sat at the riverside – lost and quiet. His wife Bindiya, sick after labor was inconsolable. Radha their eldest daughter was sitting in a corner with her two little sisters. In the dim light of the kerosene lamp the three girls played with pebbles they had collected from the riverside.

Of silverscreen, an exam and the 'sentence'

2010-02-01T12:48:00.000-08:00

I had the pleasure of a few passive interactions with Mr Vishal Bharadwaj a number of times during my school days. He used to come to Mussooorie with a Bollywood team of cricketers which along with him included Tom Alter (captain), Robin Bhatt - a notable script writer and many other faces whose names I don't even remember. They came to Mussoorie to play matches with school teams of the various prestigious schools located there and the comprehensive list included Oak Grove (my alma-mater), Wynberg Allen, Woodstock and St. Georges. One of the reasons why they came here at that time and stopped coming later was that the son of their team's captain- Jimmy Alter was a student of Woodstock. He was in the same batch as I but in a different school.

The schools of Mussoorie- its a whole different world out there.

These celebrities coming on the school campus served a lot of good purpose. First of all we always had some exciting cricket to watch out for. The guys in the school team waited for this as this was one of the few matches watched by the girls' wing of the school. We had three wings situated on two hills. The co-ed junior wing and the senior boys' wing on one hill and the girls' hill on the other. You became senior once you reached class six. we also has splendid infrastructure that included a few tennis and basket ball courts, a squash court, volleyball grounds, some multipurpose grounds for hockey, cricket and football; apart from that a huge chunk of flat land covered with imported Australian grass (it was done in pre-independence days) which was use for the annual sports' meet, annual day ( Founders' day) celebrations, inter school cricket and the fete(Fancy fair). All this in a sprawling, lush green 256 acre campus full of prehistorically grand oak trees and hence the name. In fact our news letter was called 'acorn'. It is the fruit of Oak tree.

Now in our time we could never win against this Bollywood unit. Tom was a very good all rounder and a real utility player. but the strength of this team was Vishal. The music maestro and now a celebrated director and showman was an exceptional batsman. He had such a good temperament, knowing when to attack and when to defend. Till date he is credited with hitting the highest six that we ever saw on the grounds. Not only that, he was also a very good bowler, a spinner. i am not sure what kind, but from his action he looked like more of a wrist spinner. Not being a member of the school team, I had the luxury of not worrying about results. This was one match we didn't mind losing. I remember having written in 'Acorn'( I was the editor) - " The amateurs succumb to the veterans yet again. May be next time...". But yes we guys were a pack of cheerleaders( the term has acquired an entirely new meaning with the advent of T-20 cricket). We just lead the way when cheering. The comments that we made and when we applauded a decent hit or an elegant piece of fielding definitely added to the atmosphere, which was nevertheless electric. This was one of the matches in which we did not take sides; I mean at least we applauded both teams.

Vishal was very calm, and on more than one occasion won it for his team. At that time his single claim to fame was 'Maachis'- a film based on the terrorism in Punjab. I found him to be very soft spoken. I may have talked to him just once or twice about how I loved his music, or may have wished him good morning. But conversation was limited to that. I remember him being the 'guest of honour' at our annual hockey showpiece- 'the D.M.Swing memorial interschool hockey. He distributed the prizes and gave a very short speech, but it contained everything that ought to be there. Today when I see his films, I can never imagine that such a soft spoken person could carry in him such turbulence. It is like his movies give a vent to his real self. He is the epitome of adaptive excellence. Starting from his trilogy of Shakespearian adaptations, all of which were well disguised and Indianised to be as good as anything ever seen before in Indian cinema. Then there was 'Kameene' and now 'Ishqiya'. I am sure Vishal is a big fan of Tarantino. His movie have so much of Tarantino. But more than that it is the earthly appeal of his work and the way he sees crime and adultery. It may be that I like him because his movies show a lot of what goes on in eastern India esp. UP and Bihar.

I saw 'Isqiya' yesterday. Crime makes us laugh. Either we are indifferent to it or it becomes comical. That is the effect of the movie. I have read no reviews, but as usual 'typically Vishal' the music is good. Vidya Balan once agin establishes herself as a talent powerhouse. Nasir..ah! I love him. Nasir is immaculate and 'circuit' gives his best performance post 'circuit'. Vishal hasn't directed the movie but his signature is omnipresent. He always played a long innings. If he didn't bat you out, he would definitely bowl you out. You earned whatever you scored against him. Getting Vishal out 'mattered'. He was always his usual excellent self; others had to rise to match him. The same can be said of his movies. Unlike others, he expects the audience to rise to his level. And he has been so successful at doing this time and again.

But there is more to life than just movies. Agreed 'dil to baccha hai ji...' is the current anthem, but there is life beyond 'Ishqiya'. A big slice of my life is my MBA, which I pursue with lesser indifference as compared to my B.E. in chemical engineering. Now in these courses 'profile' matters. It is what appears on our CV; the cumulative sum of whatever we have achieved till date, more so professionally. Having never worked, my profile compared poorly to others. This made me apprehensive about my odds of landing myself with a plump job offer like most MBAs hope for. One day I decided to do something about it, and applied for the CFA (chartered financial analyst) exam. A lot of other batchmates applied too. It cost me a fortune applying but I was convinced of manifold returns. This exam is supposed to be a test to gauge your understanding of financial matters. Clearing all the three levels and having an experience of four years in a financial decision making role enables you to obtain a CFA charter which is a benchmark of professional excellence, and a gateway to 'all an MBA dreams of '. All this sounds so materialistic and cheap.

Dreams crashed when success eluded me in the very first exam.

   For quite some time I was in a state of shock. Because we make plans assuming everything would turn out as expected. So I suddenly was in a fix. We have a common syllabus for all students in the first year. But in 2nd year we are free to choose whatever we want to study from amongst an exhaustive range of choices. Earlier I had decided to take subjects in the financial domain but this setback has compelled me to do a rethink. Finance domain by large has the maximum number of job offers during the recruitment season, but it is also considered to be difficult. Also somehow now I don't want to constrain myself because of the market forces. There are some subjects which I had left just because they were not what recruiters usually look for(supposedly). But one good that has come out of failing is that I have expanded my vision. Now choices would be made on the basis of affinity. There have been some downsides too but I have become less ambitious. Though many would not agree but it seems to be a good thing. We can never agree upon what success is even when considering only materialistic aspects.

   A professor said in class today- "If we choose a job we love, there would never be any work." God knows from where he picked it.

   Not that life around here is only about studies, exams and daydreaming. We do some real work too. Real work like organizing a mini-marathon which has over six thousand participants and over four lakh rupees as prize money. Also when P.T. Usha along with her athletic school associate themselves with it, its bound be something significant. There were private sponsors too and some other Government agencies as well as non-Govt. organizations too joined in. No, I am not saying I was instrumental in making all this happen. But being a part of this institution I just feel happy sharing it.

But I did something else. I ran ....

Before the actual race could begin, I was already running between the horns of a dilemma. It so happened that there were two races. One was the actual race meant for the brave-hearts who could bear the toil of a ten km run under the sun. There was also a three km showpiece for those having the desire but not the power.
What followed was a keen battle between the heart and mind.

" You have run it before." said the heart, pumping more blood in to the brain so as to entice it to respond.

"When? I don't remember." The grey matter feigned ignorance.

"Come on! You did complete the race in Chandigarh; It was also ten kilometers."

"But I was very fit then." contested my brain.

The heart had a 'hearty' laugh.

"OK relatively fit. But that's not the point." Grey matter was ready to argue.

"Then what is the point? Tell me. Is it not that like every other day you want to stay awake till dawn doing nothing, and then miss breakfast before you rush to class?"

The mind was speechless, suddenly it couldn't 'think' of anything to say. The heart was now pumping ferociously and in this tussle I was the loser. The 'pressure' was increasing. Somehow my already 'blank' mind managed a feeble reply- "I don't do nothing. I watch really good movies. That time you too love it."

The heart wasn't ready to relent. Pumping became ferocious. The brain, though it directed so much of me, had traditionally put the heart on auto-control mode. Who would have imagined that things would come to such a pass.

It was time for higher powers to intervene. Or else this write up wouldn't have been possible. How thankful I am to my sub-conscience. When matters had gone beyond control, my sub-conscience which more often than not remains dormant suddenly sprang in to action. By some secret protocol it gathered the viewpoints of both sides and delivered its sentence; but not before reprimanding both my vital organs.

A 'sentence'!!
What else do we call a ten km mini-marathon??

Confused Republic..enlightened minds

2010-01-25T16:46:00.000-08:00

dil ki baat...

Its republic day.. our 61st..
There is a smile on my lips and the time bar at the lower right hand corner of my laptop says 4:58 AM..
I am having a party... although I am having it alone.
But I believe ,even if not by their physical presence..I celebrate with my fellow countrymen today..
I have no specific reasons to substantiate this claim..

the album on is 'ROJA"

"dil hai chota sa... choti si aasha"

How true.. So many small hearts ..with small-small dreams in their eyes..
These are the dreams that make our collective - 'the great Indian dream'. It is different for different people. We all see India differently years down the line. What India would really become would be the sum total of what we really want it to become.

next song.."Rukmany"... quite raunchy by the standards of early 90's...

Yesterday evening, i,e on the Republic day eve... at about 7:30 PM.. my mobile rang..
nothing special.. a regular every day call from my father..
we talked.. me and dad..i call him 'papa'
and then me and 'ma'... everything usual was discussed
food, health, hygine, classes, placements... my parents takes an utmost interest in me..
also were discussed news, and national stories as well as the decision and plans to close down some 'deemed' universities...It was of interest to us since children from some of our acquaintances' families are students of these institutions and this is a cause for worry,,

Kapil Sibal.. the HRD minister was on campus yesterday.. i told my parents about it...
they presumed he must have been asked questions on the 'deemed' issue..
never presuming that their son had 'bunked' the event just because he would have to dress in business casuals to attend the event...I had chosen to enjoy my freedom of wearing casuals and being unshaven, rather than listening to the minister..

"Roja jaaneman..".. what melody...

"Ye hasi vaadiyan..." beautiful and soulful..

and now...
" Bharat hamko jaan se pyaara hai.."

this song makes my breath stop,,,
there are so many emotions that arise all at once...
I am dumb... quiet.. and i can't express any more..
let the song get over....

The song has ended..emotions subsided and slowly but surely confusion is taking over.
I am sure it is confusion and definitely not sleep.
Downloading songs of 'swades'. Music must go with the mood and occasion today.

Download complete...

"aahista..aahista".. again about dreams and sleep..

A loner like me is smiling a lot today.. Don't know why .. but once in a while it feels good to smile just for nothing. Smiles whose reasons lie deep within and outside us.

So my parents asked me whether I would be attending the 'Republic Day' celebrations..
I said I would rather prefer to sleep...and instantly regretted it..
Because what followed was a lecture (expectedly)..... abou how important it is to attend such functions..
That these functions and events are held because they have a relevance and some importance.
I didn't have a choice but to agree.

I never attended any Republic/Independence day or gandhi jayanti celebrations after school.
But I told them I would go...
There were serious doubts on whether I would be able to get up that early...
8 am is really early... ask any of my friends..

"dekho na zara dekho na.... tum ho main hoon aur ye tanhaiyan hai"

my favorite from the 'swades' album...
this song can generate romance in a sadist... whether the compariso is apt is a different issue.
But i simply love this song...

11 pm on the eve and it was time for the movie...
"so what to download today??"
Today on showtime it was 'Firaaq', written and directed by Nandita Das,
It was while watching this movie that the 61st Republic Day and I met...

"The Ramnavmi Song"..

really good....

I feel like singing,.. But I can't ,, this would wake my room mate

'Firaaq'.. based on the Gujraat riots (my roomie is a gujraati)
So even this remotest connection could make me feel closer to the situation..
Yes 'Godhara' happened, but it could have been passed off as a one off incident...
Culprits should have been caught and convicted and law would have taken its course,,,

But what we witnessed was the most blatent 'in the face' form of state sponsered riots...
This movie painted a vivid picture and it was difficult to watch it..
there were times it became unbearable..
Truth can be stranger than fiction and it can be painful and brutal. Massacre , rape , burning down of houses, shops, and pits dug to become mass graves. The actors have done a great job.

But this is only a movie; how horrific the truth must have been...???

That was not all . Pathetic conditions of relief camps, indifference of the common man, and the 'hand in glove' role of the state.

"sananwariya" ....

it just passed and I didn't even notice.

time is 5:54 am... I will definitely witness the celebrations... but the more important lessons for this Republic Day .. I have already learnt.. Still I want to see the Tricolour being hoisted ....
I need to have 'faith' in our system....

'swades' musical track is running.

masterpiece by the maestro..... HAIL RAHMAN...

next is "Ye taara .. wo taara..".. the song of hope...

Yes we need to modify the collective dreams that we see. Because in our very own and righteously great country there are people who would love all countrymen and all structures to be 'Hindu'. There are amongst us who would want 'that' age to return when India was ruled by 'Sultans' and "Badshahs'..the so called 'age of glory'.
And then there are other religions...
and then there is the caste..
The North vs the South Indian....
There is the recession
There is illitracy.. female infanticide and poverty...
there is the total lack of infrastructure.. both social and physical..
The naxals become closer to people...probably because their agenda is more acceptable to the masses...

Sitting in the real hub of capitalism.. i seriously have no right to talk about inclusive development, the trickle down effect, or contribution and giving back....

"yuhi chala chal rahi.."

The song asks us to move on...
I think we should...2 hrs to the ceremony...

So much going on inside the top storey, but my limited abilities to put it all on paper acts as a hindrance...
may be some other day.....
some other time...
but i also think that that it is good that my blog has such a small number of followers...
I am really not sure whether I would want a large number of people reading the posts..
They are too preachy I think...
People may think the content to be inappropriate or even laughable...
but this sense of relative anonymity gives me confidence...

ITS 3D.... just like AVATAR

2010-01-13T01:40:00.000-08:00

dil ki baat...

This guy continues to amaze people with his sidewalk 3D chalk drawings.

       d

Leave granted

2010-01-13T00:57:00.000-08:00

dil ki baat...

See How people write leave Applications. It's murder of English language. But Too Funny. Just Read It. The Leave Applications; )Â·
Â
Infosys, Bangalore: An employee applied for leave as follows:
"Since I have to go to my village to sell my land along with my wife, please sanction me one-week leave."
Â
Â· This is from Oracle Bangalore: >From an employee who was performing the "mundan" ceremony of his 10 year old son:
"as I want to shave my son's head, please leave me for two days.."
Â
Â· Another gem from CDAC. Leave-letter from an employee who was performing his daughter's wedding:
"as I am marrying my daughter, please grant a week's leave.."
Â
Â· From H.A.L. Administration Dept:
"As my mother-in-law has expired and I am only one responsible for it, please grant me 10 days leave."
Â
Â· Another employee applied for half day leave as follows:
"Since I've to go to the cremation ground at 10 o-clock and I may not return, please grant me half day casual leave"
Â
Â· An incident of a leave letter:
"I am suffering from fever, please declare one-day holiday."
Â
Â· A leave letter to the headmaster:
"As I am studying in this school I am suffering from headache. I request you to leave me today"
Â
Â· Another leave letter written to the headmaster:
"As my headache is paining, please grant me leave for the day."
Â
Â· Covering note: "I am enclosed herewith..."
Â
Â· Another one: really good oneâ€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦â€¦
"Dear Sir: with reference to the above, please refer to my below..."
Â· Actual letter written for application of leave:
"My wife is suffering from sickness and as I am her only husband at home I may be granted leave".
Â
Â· Letter writing:- "I am well here and hope you are also in the same well."
Â
Â· A candidate's job application:
"This has reference to your advertisement calling for a ' Typist and an Accountant - Male or Female'... As I am both(!! )for the past several years and I can handle both with good experience, I am applying for the post. "

Forgive..atleast Forget

2010-01-02T06:15:00.000-08:00

dil ki baat...

there is something about old times....something sticky.. We cannot let go..we do not want to let go...

we are criticizing days long gone..people we never saw again..and places we never visited again..
but for the one wrong that was done to us..we become ever unforgiving... people .. places ..ideas.. cultures..even business transactions ..all become stereotyped in to a single mould...BAD...

Irrespective of all the good things that may have occurred to us,, the beautiful conversations we may have had..times that may have flown like a sweet smelling breeze... and so many moments of pleasure and togetherness that we may have spent together..It all vanishes in that one moment.. when our expectations aren't met..or there is a sudden change of tide.. or a close someone becomes a catalyst to a worse change of fortune...
And we decide.. never to talk to that person again.. never again to look at his face... never to visit a particular place.. or even things like not carrying out auspicious tasks on particular dates....

Do we ever stop to ponder what actually went wrong??
Someone we tend to so vehemently criticize may actually not be guilty.. it may be just the tide that went against us..may be it was a consequence of trying to avert a greater loss...or may be it was just a one time lapse... just for once a conscience was taken over by greed..or an utmost compelling need...

We almost always never try to find out....
and in this way,, friends are lost... we feel cheated...
deceit seems like the order of the world... It also adversely affects our ability to have faith of someone
..rather anyone
making new friends becomes an uphill task... getting in to conversations with unknown people is rarer...and there starts the process of a complete loss of faith..everyone..everything similar gets stereotyped....

Very soon we have a shell around us..
We think its a cocoon ...it will shield us from whatever that is ugly and bad.. it will keep away things that can potentially harm us.. and help us avoid people.. who will break us down.. or just turn out to be totally disappointing.....
But actually this shell stops new light from coming in..it doesn't let us make new friends.. get in to new relationships...at times take up a new job or even visit new places..
It develops fear inside us.. fear of betrayal and rejection...
fear to get cheated Again....

This is for a friend...
May the new year bring new light in our lives...
The past be remembered for good...
The future pregnant with beautiful possibilities...
Amen!!

Searching for some meaning in all that i do

2009-12-16T09:40:00.000-08:00

"missing in action"..yes true .... agreed

But friends truly i had no choice, not that i have a choice now.. but sometimes the urge to peen down(type).. whatever goes inside the top storey is so strong that opportunities are created out out of nowhere..

Now if u are reading this blog for the first time ...u'd wonder who is this guy and what the hell is he talking about..And your doubts are certainly well placed... So solely for the benefit of such people, I will reiterate the fact, that like thousands(more actually) in this country I had this strong desire to get in to management education(as a student)...Here in India we have an entrance exam called CAT ( common admission test). this is supposed to be one of the toughest or rather the toughest management exam in the entire world; though for 2009 it also nominates itself as the most ill managed one. Now this meant working hard( not exactly.. as it is supposed to be an aptitude test).. But anyone who cracks it would say he didn't work that hard. But irrespective of that here on a public forum I announce that -"yes .. i did work my ass off for this one"..

and how exactly.. well i joined a local coaching institute in chandigarh- Bull's eye... about an year and a half before the exam... For that too we had to go through an entrance and the an interview.. but none the less i came out with flying colors and got a scholarship of 16000/- which meant that now i had to pay only 4000/-...

though later I also cracked the career launcher and pacesetter tests and got 100% scholarship at both places.

Initially we had 3 classes every week.. about 1.5 hrs each on verbal, qwant and data interpretation.. Through out I had done well in these classes( in terms of the accuracy of answers and the time I took to solve the various problems or answer different questions that were thrown at us.. I was after a long time again being considered 'bright'..( before that partially it was at school.(Oak Grove ,, Mussoorie).and i was considered really bright when I was a kid- in terms of age, looks, size as well as maturity... and this was ages before ... in KG.. Nursery..Std. 1 etc when I had topped classes on a trot)... In fact recently I found a friend from that prehistoric age.. In those times he used to come 2nd but today he has beaten me and got in to a job with L&T at Surat... Incidentally my summer internship in 2010 is also with L&T .. but I'll in all probability be at MUmbai.

Now coming back to the topic... We started with test series 6 months before the exam.. Now after getting a full scholarship at CL .. i was attending classes there too.. I had joined their test series as well... As though it was not already enough , I joined the TIME test series as well... my argument at that time was-'i don't want to repent later that something could have helped and i avoided that'... Apart from that most serious candidates were supposed to join the TIME test series... not only because of the supposed superiority of their tests but also get an actual feel of the competition.. as most of the stal warts would also be taking the same tests..

rest later...

Branding for schools- from good to have to must have

2009-11-27T12:02:00.000-08:00

http://knowledgefaber.com/articles/Media-Education/Branding-schools-goodtohave-to-musthave.pdf

well clickon the above link to find the white paper i along with debashish das, fellow pgp 13 mate......which we wrote for them as a live project. for Knowledgefaber consulting group...

2009-11-26T16:22:00.000-08:00

Mr. Dinkar Vashishtha's article on the ghosts in Shimla......

2009-10-25T10:12:00.000-07:00

http://www.indianexpress.com/news/the-ghosts-of-shimla/532888/

Mr Dinkar Vashishtha is a journalist with the Indian Express. He hasworked with the economic times as well. He was the one who mentored me for my interview for IIM K... I am forever indebted..

comment on A Damodaran's post

2009-10-18T01:50:00.000-07:00

https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8152901575140311047&postID=2547248766257490952&page=1

housing prices would always go up....everyone thought so...the banks, the ratings agencies and even the govt., because otherwise a well thought out and prudent legislation would have been in place. The irony is that how such people and organizations with such vast knowledge and experience in finance could think that housing prices would go up forever? That the very concept of a bubble was redundant.... Now Mr. Damodaran what these tycoons of ur country have done is irreparable esp. in terms of the damage that it has caused to the economies that were aping the USA. ..... These economies had lately converted to the open market system.. in the hope that it was the only answer to the questions of hunger and poverty that their economy faced...... After opening up they became outsourcing hubs for the US... most of them couldn't develop their own industries... and their ecopnomies became solely dependent on the performance of the US and the whims and fancies of its policy makers...........Dueto the slowdown it is these countries that have been greatly affected......True the US is worried about its own unemployment problems.... bot what about people who in distant lands work for the US, though not being its citizents,... and earn some amt. of money that is pathetically low to meet basic human necessities....... Instead of being too preoccupied with its own <= 8.5% unemployment rate.....Doesn't it become imperative for the us to do more.......

And now coming back to bond ratings.....it seems much like astrology .... where that astrologer commands respect whose prophecies are more consistent than others..... the very nature of the market should be to encourage more no. of agencies rather than just S & P and Moody's..........In this pool soon will emerge an agency that is consistent and demands the respect of the market.

Another worry area is why change in ratings lag the way markets see things... doesn't it also mean that the ratings are just a reflection of what the market already knows......... Rather it also implies that the kind of insider info that the ratings agencies are supposed to obtain fron the company management.. is not done... and what they get is just rosy news....

And about mortgage backed bonds...the lesser said the better....the very evident lack of info... makes the ratings extremely vulnerable......i would even think that in this particular segment.....ratings are lobbied for and much influenced.........comments Mr. Damodaran

October 18, 2009 1:46 AM

And this is what Mr. Damodaran replied

Aswath Damodaran said...

Sounds to me like selective rationalization. If the market system is to blame for whatever pain has been inflicted in these countries -I presume that you are talking about Asia - then it must have been also to blame for whatever gain was generated in the previous two decades. You know what! Most people would take the trade off. India and China operated for millenniums under your alternate government-controlled (elite run) systems and what did they have to show for it? In two decades, the market system has changed both countries in immense ways. Has all the change been for the better? Of course, not.. But consider the millions of people who have been raised from poverty to the middle class in both countries before you decide the old system worked better.

One more thing.. When you point your finger at the "tycoons" (I presume you are talking about investment bankers here) remember that four fingers are pointing back at you. Anyone who bought a house bought into this vision of everlasting glory as well..

October 18, 2009 7:18 AM

Well you see he does have a point.....

Conclaves at K

2009-10-09T02:13:00.000-07:00

Management conclaves at IIM K. One of them is horizons, which is going on today. We have really distinguished speakers. But one question remains is that, ' can they be really classified as speakers?'
Many would agree because the first speaker was the CFO of TATA Capital. He had done his MS Finace from LBS; what else is requisite for a qualification?
The answer is soft skills and the ability to bind your audience to the very flow of your thoughts. If somebody had beeen actually listening, whatever he talked was so full of wisdom, and coming from a man of his stature it must hold importance specially for management students like us. He talked of some things which are really worth talking about in the current scenario. But I wilnot be able dwell much on that as I was party to the crime. The crime of sleeping in an event like this. The crime of pretending tobelistening when actually my thoughts were far away. But yes things I can recollect include the idea of free markets, how indian banks cater to the risk averse segment and are not very much pro investment: they are rather pro savings. He talked about the history of markets and regulation that have governed them. The thought process and the rationale that that has gone beyond these regulations. How we again moved towards free markets during the times of Regan and Thather, both of whom were essentially for free markets and against regulations.
And this is all he talked about; how the derivatives market was just coming of age , when the sub-prime crisis struck. I may be possible that what I state in this post is an interpreation and very far from what he might have meant. And so it went on. The speech or rather the ordeal was over and the esteemed gentleman was rather impatiently waiting for questions. And none came. The someone after much deliberation and thinking and realizing that the ver reputation of an IIM was at stake came up with a question and thank God a sensible one; this so because the guest seemed pleased to answer it. Most of us didn't have a clue of what the question was all about and so was the case with the answer......... to be cont.

knock...knock

2009-10-08T01:42:00.000-07:00

all i have is a clouded vision...

of the unforeseen and unknown..

i hear knocks at my door...

don't know what awaits me...

shall i open the door...

or wait for it to pass..??

a fairy and the book

2009-10-08T01:35:00.000-07:00

like monsoon she came...
like a breeze she was gone....
i couldn't even lift my eyelids......
i had my glasses on...

she sparkled like the spring....
she blossomed like a flower......
but a bit odd was that hour....
and I kind of felt her power....

she smelled like fresh air.......
so glowing was her hair.....
she whispered like a morning prayer......
but i kept rocking on a chair.........

time was good for a fling......
it felt like to let off the hook.......
she was lovely like a fairy.....
bt I was happy with my book

ashwath damodaran's blog

2009-10-07T15:02:00.000-07:00

well certainly read this blog because this is much better than mine........

http://aswathdamodaran.blogspot.com

Fin God Damodaran

2009-10-04T10:23:00.000-07:00

http://pages.stern.nyu.edu/~adamodar/New_Home_Page/temp.html

http://pages.stern.nyu.edu/~adamodar/New_Home_Page/biomission.html

One of the many guys to have awe inspired me....i believe he is one of leading investment thinkers of the age.....and yet his simplicity and the missionary zeal with which he goes about his profession is amazing.

to fin enthuziasts.....please read every word listed by the guru on the links posted above.....knowledge unfortunately is not free....but here is atleast one person who has already initiated some great transformation..........hats off

Anjaani…Pehchaani

2009-09-30T09:48:00.000-07:00

Main akela hi chala tha,

Sochta tha kab hoga savera,

Raat kaali kab ghategi,

Door kab hoga andhera…….

Har ghadi , har mod par main,

Humsafar ko dhoondta hoon

Aanchalon ke chod par main,

Pyaar ko tatolta hoon………

Hai nahi saathi na sangi,

Hai nahi humraaj koi,

Baj rahe hain sur aur saaz,

Par nahi aawaaz koi……

Main use pehchaanta hoon,

Naam uska jaanta hoon ,

Hai khayalon me basi wo,

Masoom si ek kali wo….

Khoobsoorat ek bag si wo

Ek dhadhakti aag si wo

Jaaane kyon anjaan hai wo

Ab meri pehchaan hai wo…….

Main akela hi chala tha,

Sochta tha kab hoga savera,

Raat kaali kab ghategi,

Door kab hoga andhera…….

2009-09-27T04:13:00.001-07:00

dil ki baat...

2009-09-27T04:13:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

hidden ....

2009-09-27T04:09:00.001-07:00

dil ki baat...

babaji bhailog

2009-09-27T04:09:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

star fish....

2009-09-27T04:05:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat... there were lots and lots of these i the sea

kappad beach again

2009-09-27T04:00:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

kappad beach

2009-09-27T03:57:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

kappad beach

2009-09-27T03:54:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

fin imp links

2009-09-24T04:41:00.000-07:00

http://www.econlib.org/library/Mackay/macEx2.html#Ch.2,%20The%20South-Sea%20Bubble

http://www.econlib.org/library/Mackay/macEx3.html#Ch.3,%20The%20Tulipomania

http://www.berkshirehathaway.com/letters/letters.html

visitor count

2009-09-23T04:59:00.000-07:00

jimmy and johnny

2009-09-23T03:01:00.000-07:00

Jimmy Please Say You’ll Wait For Me
I’ll Grow Up Some Day You’ll See
Saving All My Kisses Just For You
Signed With Love Forever True

Joni Was The Girl Who Lived Next Door
I’ve Known Her I Guess Ten Years Or More
Joni Wrote Me A Note One Day
And This Is What She Had To Say

Jimmy Please Say You’ll Wait For Me
I’ll Grow Up Some Day You’ll See
Saving All My Kisses Just For You
Signed With Love Forever True

Slowly I Read Her Note Once More
I Went Over To The House Next Door
Her Teardrops Fell Like Rain That Day
When I Told Her What I Had To Say

Joni Joni Please Don’t Cry
You’ll Forget Me Bye And Bye
You’re Just Fif-teen I’m Twenty Two
And Joni I Just Can’t Wait For You

Soon I Left Our Little Home Town
Got Me A Job And Tried To Settle Down
But These Words Just Kept Haunting My Memo-ry
The Words That Joni Said To Me

Jimmy Please Say You’ll Wait For Me
I’ll Grow Up Some Day You’ll See
Saving All My Kisses Just For You
Signed With Love Forever True

I Packed My Clothes And I Caught A Plane
Had To See Joni I Had To Explain
How My Heart Was Filled With Her Memo-ry
And Ask My Joni If She’ll Marry Me

I Ran All The Way To The House Next Door
Things Weren’t Like They Were Before
My Teardrops Fell Like Rain That Day
When I Heard What Joni Had To Say

Jimmy Jimmy Please Don’t Cry
You’ll Forget Me Bye And Bye
It’s Been Five Years Since You’ve Been Gone
Jimmy I Married Your Best Friend John

About Potter, Stress....and etc.

2009-09-20T14:35:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

frustration ......a lot of frustration....its bangig the insides of your head. There is so much inside me that I want to discard....but am not able to. These things do come out.. sometime like tears at the end of a moview or when you are in a completely inabberated state...under the influence of alcohol or even without it. We all like to speak.. not let others speak....to be heard and not hear others... to succesful in the pursuit of things which are of miniscule eminence if life's canvas is viewed as a whole.

It is als about perceptions... how they change with time....the world may see you differently with each stage that you conquer or succumb to... but personal challenges always remain..... the challenge to raise nations out of their economic slumber....... or just to open my own sleep-heavy lids at midday.....now can be thought of as being of lesser consequence... atleast as far as I am concerned and I am sure many would agree....

And as the great KWATRA writes........ new semester ..new challenges,... wahi 'ghisai' fir se....

Yes i am reading a book called liar's poker....am watching Potter's movies......half blood prince...order of the phoenix....etc...and must asy its qwite an experience..... I was really touched by the way Hermione Granger cried for Ron weasley........and the greatness of Albus Dumbledoor....... the wickedness and folly of Malfoy.....the horrrific death eaters and what not....

And Hogwarts reminds me of my school.....what grandness.....british setting.... typical stone architecture..... Girls' and Boys' Dorms......... not Qwidditch but Hockey.....and lots of stories...... ma'ams and sirs... not proffesors..........and a slightly less flamboyant life style..... but it was fun.....and I bet it was

There are other things i do too....like feeling sleepy as of now

passing thought.....

2009-09-18T10:28:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

A man was polishing his new car; his 4 yr old son picked up a stone &

Scratched on the side of the car. In anger, the furious Man took his

child's hand & hit it many times, not realizing he was using a wrench.

At the hospital, the child lost all his fingers due to multiple fractures.

When the child saw his father....with painful eyes he asked

'Dad when will my fingers grow back?' The man was so hurt and speechless.

He went back to the car and kicked it many times. Devastated by his own

actions... sitting in front of the car he looked at the scratches, His son

had written 'LOVE YOU DAD'. Next day that man committed

suicide...

Anger and Love have no limits...Always remember.... .
Very important

"Things are to be used and people are to be loved"

But the problem in today's world is....

"People are being USED & Things are being LOVED"

it so happened....

2009-09-18T10:19:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...

An Interesting Joke

A stranger was seated next to Little Johnnie on the plane when the stranger turned to the boy and said, "Let's talk. I've heard that flights will go quicker if you strike up a conversation with your fellow passenger."
Little Johnnie, who had just opened his book, closed it slowly, and said to the stranger, "What would you like to discuss?"
"Oh, I don't know," said the stranger. "How about nuclear power?"
"OK," said Little Johnnie. "That could be an interesting topic. But let me ask you a question first. A horse, a cow, and a deer all eat grass. The same stuff. Yet a deer excretes little pelleile a cow turns out a flat patty, and a horse produces clumps of dried grass. Why do you suppose that is?"
"Jeez," said the stranger. "I have no idea."
"Well, then," said Little Johnnie, "How is it that you feel qualified to discuss nuclear power when you don't know shit?"

And so i pondered

2009-09-17T13:51:00.001-07:00

dil ki baat...

kyun chalti hain pawan ?

Because of evaporation.

Kyun jhoome hain gagan ?

Because of earth's rotation.

Kyun machalta hain mann ?

Because of disorder in digestion.

Na Tum Jano Na Hum!!!

Kyun gum hain har disha ?

Because u have poor sense of direction.

Kyun hota hain nasha ?

Because of drug addiction.

Kyun aata hain mazaa ?

Because u enjoy the situation.

Na Tum Jano Na Hum!!!

Kyun aati hain bahar ?

Because of change in season.

Kyun hota hain karar ?

Because of taking tension.

Kyun hota hain pyaar ?

Because of opposite attraction.

Na Tum Jano Na Hum!!!

but
SCIENCE HAS ALL THE SOLUTIONS

http://172.20.5.146:8080/PlaceComPortal/htm/placecomHome.htm

2009-09-14T08:38:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...
place com ka portal

2009-09-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

http://www.zeenews.com/video/showvideo3736.htmldil ki baat...

Eye of the beholder

2009-08-31T14:13:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...
This has been good here for qwite sumtime now.
there are batch parties...... and we all have hell lot of a good time....... the party extends in to the night and then on to the cars,,, buses ,,, beaches and then merges with the morning
i am always confused about the place i m in .... whether i like it... whether i like it because every1 else is doing it.... am i steriotyping myself,,,,........ am i moving away from the very notion of 'MAVERICK' that i cherished for myself

SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION IN INDIA CLASSES....... they are goig on well... with a lot of heated debates.... that go on
and then there's Managerial Accounting..... in which i have been consistently pathetic...... and as if to add insult to injury... i applied for the CFA( chartered financial analyst) level 1 exam 2..... ... This probably is one of the riskiest decisions i have ever taken.... and current trends point to an unavoidable disaster.

Mean while IIM kozhikoode is revealing itself in its many forms to me...... i am gradually getting used to the academic rigour...... and may be sooner than later ii start performing well in exams too..... yes this place is beautiful,,,,... its situated on a hill.. full of palm and coconut trees.......... and yes there's the sea near by.........but who has the time and patience to go there.....i have of course formed a few friends.... and unusually though the bonding is good...... seems like a long run is in the offing...........lets see how things unfold gradually

Then there's the OB(organization behaviour) class..... and the proff teaches no one else bt me...... let the whole class go to hell... if i understand ,,, iits implied every1 does.... if i don't ... he explains it again..... he puts all the questions to me....and expects answers and the best part is that i usually have the correct answers... anyways he'd extract it from you....................... and then he is so very docile... always greets us with folded hands at the end and beginning of the class.........may b a modern day GAndhi....
Though his attention span hasn't brought any benefits....... since all of proff Pawars focus totally on me.....rest every1 can sleep..... while i study.... in every1's place.....i envy the BACKBENCHERS

and he continues to make us uncomfortable....

2009-08-28T15:41:00.000-07:00

dil ki baat...
this is about dear PROF> MATHEW only..... guys these days we are having movie screenings..... some of the finest films i have ever seen....the central station (spanish)........grave of the fire flies(japanese.. animation).....all about my mother(spanish again).................and today documentaries..

1st documentary:- About the caste system... religion... communal riots... and gender bias..I was horrific when i saw how Bal Thakrey was playing cheap politics .... arousing public sentiment against muslims.."i will put an AK47 in every hindu's hand"..... some of the real inflamatory speeches by Saadhwi Ritambara..... Shiv Sena... is detrimental to the state of well being and happiness of this great nation. A sociologist way back predicted that yugoslavia and india... wd disintegrate with time..every1 mocked him.. but yugoslavia did break up... conditions in india are very similar....
These parties take the name of Shivaji, rana pratap etc . for so called hindu nationalism..... but shivaji had so many muslim connections... and Shivaji wdn't be shivaji if the muslim connections hadn't been there..... Rana pratap's friend in in his worst times was a muslim........ mardana accompanying Nanak was a muslim..
Same is the case with muslims... they believe.. the golden age when muslims ruled India is gone... they aren't getting their due... elements in their community too continuously pester them in to communally biased approach and thinking.

2nd Documentary-
titled 'LESSER HUMANS"...www.ektaonline.org/events/stalin/index.htm.. it was base on the scavengers.. the pathetic state in which they live... they actually have to clean up what we throw up... from top or bottom.... human and animal excreta... dead bodies...There are old type toilets that are DRY and can't be flushed.. they have clean them.. and carry the 'night-soil ' on their head to the dumping site.

Their state over the years hasn't much changed.. because if they don't do it... WHO DOES IT???
they are the BHANGIS... or the Valmikis
They are systematically kept away from all Govt. jobs.Almost all of them are on daily wages at different municipal corporations, gram panchayats.... families etc.
They are paid about lowest possible wages..according to the documentary in 1997 it was INR50/month.... it can't be too mch now either... may be
A lot of them are paid only in kind.... like left over food... and grain etc.
Their main grduge is against the other lower castes.... the other 'dalits'... who avail most of the benefits for reserved categories....
They are preferentially kept away from availing benefits... as otherwise who wd do their jobs...
They are not alloted plots on housing sites.... bt in areas away.. where there's no basic amenities.. no water.. electricity
UNTOUCHABILITY is still practised against them....in villages actively.... while educated ones...do it subconsciously too... c'mmon be thruthfull....will u be comfortable with the 'safaiwala'.......Wd u hug him and share ur food with him?? The BHANGIS are even more unfortunate.
Its not that that the GOVT has been silent.... Atleast 5 times "cleaning of night-soil' manually has been banned. Picking up of human excreta on the head has been banned too... there is actually so much that has been done ON PAPER
BUT its a lower caste vs higher caste problem.... and all important offices..infact the Govt. is controlled by higher castes... and so the implications
The truth is .....REMOVING a stigma 1000's of yrs old "the varna syatem'.... isn't easy.. But what's appaling is the lack of efforts.... though some NGO's are doing a commendable job
and what abt issues like resevation

A scavenger

i am a scavenger

they call me BHANGI

they keep away from me

the smell of shit emerging from me may corrupt their souls

and i clean up a lot

their shit.. their animal's shit

their dead... whom they find lying about

its we who give them their salvation

and the dead cats n' dogs n' cattle

in villages we carry bad news too
news of death to all other home
n all other villages
accumulating curses
this makes our smell worse

do u think its easy

doing such stuff and getting almost n'thing in return

no.. actually there are returns

and 1 too many

In return u keep away from me

preferencially u keep me backward

and away from education

u can't do without me..

actually u can .. bt u don't want to

u r so used to this barbarism

that u can't forgo it

u can't build automatic toilets

but even if u build them

like they have in cities

we have to go in MANHOLES

man .. they are full of shit

and i m immersed in that shit from head to toe

some times the toxic gas can even kill me

now is that HUMAN

even remotely so??

As a child i was good at studies

sat on the 1st bench

but i was an untouchable

i made other kids impure

they made me sit at the last bench

i wanted to become a DOCTOR

the guy pursuing THE NOBLE PROFESSION

but they said this time n ' again

Wht's d use.. a bhangi shall remain so

there's shit u have to carry

shit's ur destiny.. u can't run away

in the end fed up.. broken

i dropped out...

even i couldn't play with other kids

their parents told them not to

and washed their own kids with water

when they came in contact

or touched them with fire

this wd make them pure

If sum1 accidently touched me

they wd apply GANGAJAL

or any water which they found

even drop their toes in the nearby drain

so u see...

even drain water is purer than us

if i m a woman
imagine my plight
i m a slave of the slaves

so is there any real incentive for us to continue living

but we continue to live..

so that we carry ur filth..

ur shit on our head

ur shit in our lives

ur shit all the time

it trickles down through ages

in to our destiny.. that's all shitty with ur shit

bt do we have a choice

certainly not

so we keep quiet

and carry on with our very own NOBLE PROFESSION

this is how u locate me.....

2009-08-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

http://iimk.ac.in/pgp/pgp13.php?min=65

this is the way they present me on iim k website..... but u realize there's more to me after reading this blog.... keep reading.... this will help u in the long run.... of course i m kidding...... :) :)

Prof. A. F. Matthew

2009-08-23T10:38:00.000-07:00

http://www.mica-india.net/AcademicsandResearch/Profiles/Profiles%20new/Mathew.htm
http://www.portalcomunicacion.com/bcn2002/n_eng/programme/prog_ind/asp4.asp?id_pre=824
http://www.mica-india.net/AcademicsandResearch/Profiles/Profiles%20new/Mathew_publications.htm

Guys.. you defintely have heard of siddhu and siddhuisms
..... now i will introduce you to our teacher of ' Social Transformation in india'. ...
When your Prof. had a FATWA issued against him.. In addition had sought protection from HC against Bajrang Dal in past..this was all because of his inflamatory thoughts and ideas.... his father was the the Deputy Commander in Chief of IPKF in Sri Lanka....and yet he hates most of what Indian Army does....He was refused visa to Pakistan because of his views on Kashmir...... When he teaches you, you realize.. how good or bad religions are... how biased society is... and the the truth behind simplest of events could be bloody and horrendous.....Only he can really teach you about SOCIAL TRANSFORMATION IN INDIA!!

Mathewisms :

"I am like a ray of light in your wretched lives.
I feel like a genius everywhere I go because you people know nothing"

"u dont read newspaper, u dont watch TV, so wat u do all day, watch Porn.... "

"god is standing in front of u
don worry now i hav come
everything will be alright...hmmm "

"If I had not come to teach you who would have emancipated your wretched souls"

"If a girl sleeps with ten boys of her class, she's a slut. If a boy does the same with ten girls, he's a stud. This is the bang-on-target example of gender bias.."

Addressing a lady: "Do you go home and declare, Mom ! Great news !! I'm a lesbian !! "

"some 40 % of the students, I interview say Hitler is their role model. I normally select them coz I realize that they need me more"

"I will declare I will screen a Lesbian film in auditorium and when all the seats are occupied, I will play the Gay Film"

"Of course I don't believe in that rubbish that all men are equal..You can't be my equal"

"Young people are same everywhere...one big koodadan"

"In Mills & Boon, hero plants a kiss on heroine's forehead and she faints. I think she'll have epilepsy during intercourse"

I can't tell about others but prof. mathew is brash.... but he is one guy u feel is talking utter rubbish until unless u pay attention and start listening..... and worry he is extremely interesting ... and the wierdest person you will ever meet...... but he does enlighten our souls in so many ways......

And as time went by.......

2009-08-23T03:40:00.000-07:00

Now i am almost 2 months in this splendid institution. Sometimes I really feel proud of myself to have made it despite all odds(no work ex, no flashy tags like iit, a two yr dropper after +2, a modest cat percentile, and above all a filthy gd; but more than decent interview)

You of course are the least interested. I mean first of all you take pity on me and read this crap... and its even not interesting.. but then guys bear with me.. may be with time i polish my writing skill and specially my typing skills...

Midterms happened .. and my grades are out.. at least for one subject and i got a pathetic B-. May be trailor about the things to come or its just a passing phase. But it scares me as I have never been great at studies, and more so in a place like this, I think I'll have to work extra hard. If I don''t may be survival is the issue I am facing a few months from now.

Lets talk about the ratio (gender ratio ). Its probably about 12:1. Now why we have to face all of this all the time. I really hope that the women of this country become totally liberated and join in more numbers those courses and workplaces which I am destined to join as well.

But yes again I reiterate as I have done n number of times before, that this place rocks, with all its natural beauty, the nearness to some aw sum beaches, and that its actually situated on a hill. Also sooner than later you happen to find those venomous reptiles usually called snakes crawling around leisurely.. and you realize that the place actually belongs to them and you need their mercy.

Broadly speaking it a heaven for nature enthusiasts, with innumerable coconut/ palm trees and absolute sereneness. That's why they call it ' GOD's own country' and my IIM-' GOD's own IIM'.

And then there are thoughts about recession and how its going ti affect our summers and our senior batch's final placements. That i have take about a million rupees as loan is worrying, but other wise life is good... very good... much better than what I have had till now.I am actually looking forward to days getting better and better.

and so i started to settel down

2009-07-20T13:46:00.000-07:00

initially it was tough... there were classes during the day...and in the name of induction, studcon i.e. the students' body(of course managed by the seniors) made us under go some real tough times.There were classes till 3 am, all taken by senios in the name of clearing of concepts. And they gave us tasks.. real big tasks..like preparing ppts. on various topics.. assignment submissions.. and everything with a deadline , which would read something like 23:59:59.

soon the curtains wre off. Weactually got toknow that we were being fooled.. and that this wasn't official(as we had been told till now). Wewere even told that these tasks would contribute to our grades.

It all happened like this. One night we were called for a baatch meet @ 23:59:59... and there was all this talk about how people had copied their assignments. They told us that plagarism was astrict issue and may even lead to expulsion. And that sofwares could be used to check and analyse assignments.. and find any traces of plagarism. They asked people involved to own up. Afew of them did. Then they said that they had no choice but to make the names public. The projector came in to action. It said-" LOOK BEHIND".

And there were our seniors, all mocking us and capturing the moment of this surprise with their camera kliks( the moment of our salvation from slavery... that resulted from foolish ignorance). It was an exquisite moment.

In the name of induction we were being made to sleep < 4 hrs a day. People were made to jog n exercise(armylike), prepare n number of assignments, power pt. ppts. In the nameof NSS some of them were even asked to prepare a play...which they did and even presented. It seemed that slowly life would get back to normal... :)

2009-07-18T18:15:00.000-07:00

its not what you expect ...... its even better!!

2009-07-04T14:25:00.000-07:00

I arrived at the Kozhikode station. IIMk guys , members of stud con i.e student concil were there to receive us.. and a bus to carry us to our dream destination.. All we guys were new and probably expecting a lot of new things. The bus ride was good, with some really 'happening' south Indian probably Malyali music playing in the background. And gradually 'The GOD's own kountry' unfolded its pristine beauty; rain forests with coconut and palm trees, lush greenry all aroud. It was intoxicating .... but it was just the beginning.

Suddenly the gates of 'God's own IIM' welcomed us. Initial formalities done, we were escorted to owr hostel rooms. And...... what lay before my eyes was.. just unimaginable. It wasn't a room at all; it resembled a suit. Fitted with ac , attached bath , geysers, well furnished with genuine rosewood furniture. That was not all, all the fittings.. lan ports , lamp shades , a number of copboards , dressing table and God knows how many drawers were exquisite and just where they should have been and not to mention the bath fittings and overall lighting was majestic. Added to it the quiet balcony and the picturesque view it offered... couldn't ask for more.

Also here people don't lock their rooms.... unbelievable?? But here they don't... with all their cash and their laptops and stuff lying around. That's the honesty of the most educated state in India.