Another trip. This time to a jungle (redefined to mean a few bushes on a mountain) and a waterfall. Some thoughts follow.

When will the Kumbh Mela be held?

Why do Indians consider the cow to be sacred?

What is the difference between different newspapers like The Hindu, Hindustan Times ... Do they have political leanings?

All questions asked by a French exchange student traveling with us.

Kumbh mela? Yes, I remember reading about it in A Suitable Boy. Its supposed to be held near Sangam, I think. The mela where thousands of babies are lost and hundreds of movies are made. No, no idea when or where or why.

Cow? Sacred? Well, yes. But I mean, what nonsense! We don't believe in all that. We are the new generation. We throw all old beliefs out the window, no questions asked.

The Hindu, well, I think it is a little boring. The Times of India is too populist. Of course newspapers have leanings. No paper is impartial. What are the leanings of these newspapers? Well.. umm... err... I don't really know.

No Past. No present. Will we have a future?

Heard this line in a movie once:

Most of us don't have to face the fact that given the right circumstances, we are capable of anything. Anything.

Terrifying. And the only lines that kept coming to my mind when I was watching Schindler's List a few days ago. I've read about the atrocities in numerous books, watched it in several movies and what scares me the most is that it was all carried out by ordinary people! That given the "right" motivation, you and I are capable of such inhuman acts puts a big question mark of the future of our "civilization".

The question is not Will we have a future, but Should we have a future.

The holiday season is upon us. Let us go around spreading joy and cheer! Joy and cheer? All I seem to be able to do now-a-days is mutter threats under my breath and throw dark looks at anyone I remotely suspect is going home. Why am I never the one who gets to go home while the world remains behind to work? This time, I don't even know why I am not going!
The standard way of dealing with this is to tell yourself that you will avenge it all by doing ground-breaking research in 10 days, publish a paper or two. However, by now yourself has heard this so many times, it refuses to be taken in and screams back - WHOM ARE YOU KIDDING?
What scares me most though, is the Diwali-depression. Yay, I get to remain back during Diwali too, to carry out "change-the-way-the-world-works" research while the world wastes its time on fireworks and sweets. Lucky me!

I hate pseudo-holidays.

(A bit IITK specific, but it should make sense to the general audience, if any)

You know you are in Hall 7 when you survive to eat and not the other way round.
Note: Hearsay. Despite many unsublte hints, I am yet to taste the envy of IITK.

You know you are in Hall 4 when your canteen bill exceeds your mess bill.

You know you are in GH when
- People eat, sleep, dance, sing, walk and do every other activity imaginable on the basketball court except play basketball.
- Your fruitwala bill exceeds your mess bill and canteen bill put together.
- There are as many people in the T.V room watching the daily saas-bahu drama as there are watching an Indo-Pak nail-biter.

You know it is 12 a.m. when guys come pouring out of every nook and corner of GH, much like mice had poured out on the piper's tune centuries ago.

Doesn't matter that with the kind of work we do, I might end up defending my senior's thesis 8 months from now. Doesn't matter that I blew away thousands on the scan of a supposed "shoulder injury" and all the report says is "mild right shoulder joint effusion" (something I strongly suspect the kind doctor put in just to make me think I'm getting my money's worth). Doesn't matter that my guide can and will eat us alive when we report the amount of work we've done this week. The half an hour that I fiddle with a friend's guitar, trying to get "Sa Re Ga Ma" right, everything is forgotten.

The power of small things.

"Passengers are requested to report at the airport two hours before the flight is scheduled for takeoff"

The alarm is set for 8 a.m. Everyday. Not that I'm ever going to wake up at the first alarm. It's just a way to ease myself gently into the shock that its morning. Says a lot for the mess food that not even the thought of breakfast can get me out of bed. "Later", I tell the alarm and go back to hiding from the day.

"This is the first call for passengers of flight ... "

An hour later, it rings again. Persistent fellow. Not much self-respect, I must add. "Ya, ya, I get it, its morning. May I be permitted just 5 more minutes of bliss?" Without really waiting for an answer, I shut it off. The breakfast fairy (hopefully a Brad Pitt look alike - aha, I'll stay awake all night waiting for morning) will wake me up 5 minutes later. He doesn't come. I continue uninterrupted.


"This is the last and final call for passengers of flight..."

However skewed, rusty and unreliable, I do have a biological clock. On 9.75 days out of 10, it wakes me up 5 minutes before the deadline. Some kindly neighbour takes care of 0.2499999 days by banging on my door a few minutes before the deadline. A super quick brush of my visible teeth later, I'm in the mess being served breakfast by people who consider it a gross violation of duty to hand out food a minute past 9.30.

I have considered suggesting the installation of a giant gong that scares sleep away from even the most hardcore hibernators. But the question remains - who will sound the gong?

Life right now is a scene right out of some Jane Austen novel. All we seem to discuss is parties. Can't blame us too much though. For us mess-fed souls, any outing involving food is big. Big. BIG.
It just so happened that a lot of happy occasions and occurrences touched our lives. And a party of course, is the best way to share joy. Or rather, transfer some of it from the giver to the receivers. And so we plan. When, where, who, who not - endless topic, endless pleasure. Everyone is so excited, it even rubs off the unfortunate soul who knows she will end up spending a weeks hard earned wages (in most cases earned teaching Java to ungrateful brutes most of who end up knowing more about the language than them in a months time) in a day. Having paid my dues early, all I do now is look forward to weekends with a smile on my face and a hand rubbing my tummy.
Hmm. What then, is the difference between most of Jane Austen's characters and us? Can I throw emptiness and superficiality at them, living in a glass house myself? Of course! For us, this is an break from life. For them, it was life.

Question: "Hey, you've lost weight! How did that happen?"
Wrong answer: (delivered with a very serious face) "Its a combination of exercise, diet control, and yoga."
Correct answer: (with a slightly surprised and very happy expression) "Really? Well, I don't know. I did nothing special."

You'd like to believe its some kind of magic. And that it'll happen to you too someday. All you have to is wait. And meanwhile, that chocolate cake can't do too much harm!

Sound, camera, silence!

Some trivia inspired by my recent trip to a heaven called Pachmarhi (Heaven for me being a place where I can become a monkey, a mountain goat and a buffalo by rotation)

Its not that your friend is bad. Its that she's so bad, she makes me want to put my finger through my eye into my brain and swirl it around.

- F.R.I.E.N.D.S, Episode 206
(someone at Central Perk describing Phoebe's singing)

My sentiments exactly, when I hear those sadistic deaf brutes, also known as drivers, honking away at helpless or worse, non-existent traffic. One of them did it all the way from IIT to the railway station, making sure that everyone for miles around knew the IIT bus was passing through. The journey is bad enough, without you having to lip read what your friend sitting right next to you is saying, 'cos you dare not remove your fingers from your ears. Another one did it inside a national park which had explicit instructions about not using horns! This one was a more refined kind of torture. His horn was actually a switch which he'd turn on and then forget to turn off. Even the slightest bend in the road was negotiated with a blaring horn. So much for national parks being animals' home and us being guests!

***

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE digital cameras. No trip is ever complete without at least one around. Even planning to buy one myself. But sometimes, I get the feeling that it all becomes a little too much. Hotel, click, bridge, click, someone fell, click, sunset, click, walking, click, eating, click. We get so busy recording memories, we stop making them.

***

This year has been a year of visiting temples. I've gone to way over my average yearly quota of them. But I'm yet to see a temple that actually inspires God in me. The crowd, the noise, the rituals! The only thought is my mind when I enter one is - when will I get out? One temple that comes close to my ideal is the Lotus temple in New Delhi. The vastness, the silence, the beauty! The only thing that spoils the effect is rows and rows of chairs meant for people to sit. A little too systematic and earthly to mesh with the divine!

Psychohistory doesn't seem all that impractical, especially when one studies the behaviour of people faced with the prospect of a trip. The first reaction is always an enthusiastic "I-can't-wait-to-get-away". It is when you start discussing the time, the place and in some cases, the money, that reality sets in. The sheer quantity and creativity of excuses I've heard in the past weeks would have staggered me, if I hadn't heard them all before. Having been party to around 7 trips over the last couple of years, I now know the whole process by heart. What follows is the prologue of the trips of a specific group. It can be very easily generalized, as anyone who has ever planned a trip will readily agree.
It always begins with a "Hey, lets go for a trip". To which there is always a general agreement. The when is agreed upon surprisingly fast, the options being restricted to weekends. And then someone pops the question - "Where"? Which is always answered by "the expert" (which I think is a very good thing. One, he knows what he is talking about. And two, ten people talking about a trip invariably come up with twenty suggestions). The expert of course doesn't answer right away, but first demands the facts of the case. And the most pertinent, weirdly enough, is how many people. And thus begins one of the most vexing chicken-and-egg problems in history. A sample conversation that a recruiter has with a prospective candidate invariably takes the following course:

R: Hi! We're planning to go for a trip somewhere next weekend
PC: That's great! Where are you planning to go?
R: *silently cursing the PC for asking the unanswerable* Err.. we haven't quite decided on that yet.
PC: (growing apprehensive about spending his weekend in the company of people with such exceptional decision making capabilities) How can I answer without knowing where we are going?
R: Of course you're right. But can you at least give me a tentative yes? You are free that weekend, right?
Wise PC: Oh no! I suddenly remembered I'm going home that weekend. Sorry!
Desperate PC: Oh no! I suddenly remembered I'm getting married that weekend. Pity you can't make it! *Poof!*
Unwise PC: Yes, I think so.

And thus a very approximate number reaches the expert, who then proceeds to include it in his calculations. A list of prospective locations with pros and cons is sent out. Calculations have to be frequently redone as the variables fluctuate. 3 days to go for D-day and all we have is a very confident expert and no destination. 2 days to go and the expert finally breaks his silence. He names a place that the majority accept with relief and gratitude. The minority is asked to shutup or get out.
If you think that's all there is to it, you've obviously never been a part of this before. All throughout the negotiations, there are *concerns* to be addressed. Concerns about the capability of the drivers, the availability of food, the range of various mobile service providers, the accommodation, the weather... Even after all of them have been addressed to the satisfaction of the candidates and their parents, there are the inevitable dropouts. Client interviews, deadlines, visiting friends, mood swings, academic registrations... I've heard them all. But we always end up with enough people to fill the expert's maruti 800.
However painful the prologue, the story always makes it worth all the headache!

Hell to a crossword puzzle lover is a room filled with puzzles and no pencil.

I hate feeling so helpless.

I'm back! Ideally, this post should stop with those two and a half words since i have absolutely no idea what i'm going to write. But of course it doesn't 'cause its not an ideal world. My PC crashed about a couple of weeks ago and since then the urge to write has been fighting the complete abscence of ideas. Who won is there for everyone to see. Presenting below, the spoils of war.
Hmm... well.... Oh yes! I got one! The surest way to make someone want something is to give it to them for a few days and then take it away. No matter how complete their life is without it, no matter how useless they think it to be, all that is needed is for them to give it a little space. And then, when you take it away, voila! there is a void! Genius, ain't it? I should become a sales manager one of these days.
Umm...what else? Nothing! Zilch. The urge might have won a battle, but the idea (or lack of it) won the war.

The week that was

- Got back my first ever installment of clothes from the dhobi. They looked wonderful. They smelt wonderful. And best of all, I hadn't moved a finger to affect the transformation. But before I could completely enjoy the lightness that ancient man must have felt on seeing golden brown toast pop out of an automatic toaster, an immense sense of responsibility weighed me down. I realized that a major attitude and lifestyle change was called for. No longer could clothes be carelessly strewn on my chair, bed or floor. No longer could they be stashed in the cupboard to make place for the occasional visitor. They had to be respected!

- Met the mother-in-law and 2 year old daughter of one of the new students. They had come all the way from Chennai to Kanpur to settle her into what will be her home for the next two years. And were going back to life(?) in Chennai. At first, the child appeared surprisingly unaffected. She readily left her granny and followed akka to the TV room to watch Pogo. But she'd walk out every 5 minutes and ask any passer-by "Amma enga" (where is mother?), not caring that she never got an answer. The granny of course put up a brave front and said she'll get used to it. Sometimes, right thing at the wrong time amounts to a wrong thing.

- Realized that at least in the technical arena, any problem you face someone else has already overcome! And google helps you get in touch with that special someone. Restores your faith in humanity when you see how helpful people are towards faceless strangers sitting at the other end of the earth!

A few days ago, on the 23rd of July, I happened to travel from Kanpur railway station to IIT. I couldn't help looking back. Exactly a year ago, to the day, I had landed in Kanpur to start a new chapter of my life. A year that just flashed by, even though each moment was lived to its fullest. A year filled with more novels and movies than any other year of my life. A year in which I kept odder hours than I ever thought possible. Suddenly, all 24 hours were equal. A year of finding friends who tolerate me at my silliest and friends who motivate me to my brightest. A year of teachers who gave me glimpses of beauty in computer science. I got senti over almost every question paper I had to solve. A year that almost rid me of my fear of presentations. A year which made me wash my own clothes. Believe it or not, it was a first for me and gave me an immense sense of achievement and independence! A year that made me appreciate simple home food. Thier saadam (curd rice) was always heaven, but all the more so now, since it was so rare. A year that made me realize that though not at the "where-I-lay-my-head-is-home" level, I could settle down in any place without too much fuss. A year in which I realized I had changed, but not as much as I thought I had.
A year very different from any I've had. I would have been a different person, had this chapter been differently written.

Happy new year!

Got this wonderful feeling of achievement after ages. Weird, its happened only 3 or 4 times since I've been here. I always thought IIT life would be filled with challenges, chances to improve yourself. They are there, I guess, but they're not thrust upon you. Its up to you to grab one. And for that, you have to be super-interested, super-motivated, super-proactive or super-desperate! And I of course don't fall into any of these categories. If you put an obstacle in my way, I'm most likely to run away. Maybe walk around it. Or simply stop walking. Only when you have me surround from all sides and sit on me will I even try to think of overcoming it. Getting me to rise to a challenge is a challenge in itself!
(I know I shouldn't feel proud about it, but today, nothing can get me down!)

All in a morn's work

The devil got to me. Finally. Why else would I suggest we prepone a trip to a nearby Hanuman temple on cycles to 5.30 a.m. when I know I can't fall asleep even if someone gives me sleeping pills before 2 in the night? And why else would I set the alarm for 5 *shudder*, thinking I will have a bath before we leave? Common sense had taken over by the time the alarm rang and I decided to give in to half an hour of bliss. After all, my sleep logged brain reasoned, we go to the temple to cleanse ourselves.
And so we set off, the 6 of us (4 uncleansed) on our mini pilgrimage. I was really looking forward to the ride. A cool breeze, the cloudy July sky, greenery all around, perfect roads and practically no traffic - I could cycle forever! All of this lasted till the IIT gate. And then a rude awakening - Kanpur city! With all its dirt and potholes and traffic (yes, even at 6 in the morning). Don't ask me how I forgot what the city was like. Maybe I was not completely awake.
It only got worse. Rains had left water-filled potholes everywhere and if you spied a truck at a distance you ran for dear life and dear-er clothes, whose cleanliness becomes all the more scared when you wash them yourself. There were stretches of road that the municipal corporation had in all its wisdom decided to lay with pointed rocks. One such stretch and Shailaja and I decided rafting had been less adventurous. By the next stretch, we had become experts. "Peddle forward", I yelled. Grade 3, we decided when we got out of it.
Many such ups and downs later, we reached the temple. It was like any other temple. Darshan over, we braced ourselves for the journey back. We crossed some children cycling to school and I couldn't help thinking that in the afternoon these children would run back home, all excited, yelling - "Mummy, aaj main school pahuncha!" We reached the grade 3 rapid again and I this time I had to cross it with added hurdles - a tempo and some cyclists. Feeling rather proud at having done so without incident, I waited at the other end for Shailaja to catch up, only to find that she had taken a much simpler, safer by-lane and was way ahead of me. No, it was not a stupid thing to do, and no, she was not laughing her head off.
As we entered the campus gates, the contrast hit me once again. And maybe because of it, the campus seemed all the more peaceful, serene, quiet. It felt like I had entered a temple.

Book Tagged!

Arjun booked tagged me and then nagged me to do my obligation. Not that I'm ungrateful. I LOVE books and look upon this as a God(?)-sent opportunity. So, here goes.

Number of books I have read
200+ excluding Enid Blyton, Agatha Cristie, P.G. Wodehouse

Number of books I own
10+
(Shameful I know, but I plan to buy more when I grow up!)

Number of books stolen/borrowed
Again 10+
(And its not like I stole them. It was more of a family effort, excluding my parents and me)

My first book(s)
Jurassic Park
Shall we tell the president
Coma
(listing all three since I don't exactly remember the order)

Books right up there...

Forever
1. Atlas Shrugged
(it manages to unsettle me every time I read it)
2. Trinity by Leon Uris
(Exodus has a better, more uplifting story, but the characters in Trinity are amazing. I fell in love with Conor Larkin)
3. H2G2
4. Harry Potter series

Youth
1. Not a penny more, not a penny less
2. Guns of Navaron
3. The evening news
4. The Bourne identity

Childhood
1. Enid Blyton (all of them!)
2. Tintin

Classics
1. Gone with the wind
2. The mill on the floss
(The central idea was something that had been bothering me, so I guess I liked it all the more)

Over-hyped books
1. The Alchemist (life changing? Come on!)
2. Love Story ( very sweet, but also very forgettable)
3. Kane and Abel (call it blasphemy, but I read "The Prodigal Daughter" first and liked it better)

Best movie made from a book
Gone with the wind

Worst movie made from a book
The Bourne Identity

Authors I keep away from
Sidney Sheldon (unless I'm really desperate)

Books that make me wish I were a child
Harry Potter series
(Although I don't really believe I can enjoy them more!)

Books I wish I'd never touched
1. Some Sidney Sheldon that put me off the guy forever
2. Doctor Zhivago. Maybe I was too young, but all I remember of the story is that he has three wives. And that he dies.

Current read
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
(Makes some sense in some places)

TBD...
1. Ulysis
2. 1984
3. Redemption
4. Crime and Punishment
5. To kill a mockingbird

An empty mind, they say, is a devil's workshop. I say the devil never had it so good! There are enough workshops around for him to get into big time mass production and teach China a lesson or two.
One of life's little ironies. When it is crammed with "unwanted" stuff, you have a long list of things you wish it were filled with instead. You want to read, you want to watch movies, you want to play all games invented and discovered, you want to write, you want to lie down on your bed thinking of everything and nothing...
Take away the unwanted, and the wanted goes along. Reading and writing seem to require too much discipline. No movie you watch seems worth even your worthless time. Its always too hot for games. Nothing is not as interesting as you thought it would be.

Somehow, fighting over the remote for control seems more exciting than control of an uncontested one.

Day 5
Yippie! I'm going home!! This last week is going to be terrible. And not only because of the heat. Because of all this senseless, workless waiting. I hope I don't forget the tickets this time! I did a clever thing, keeping them in my purse the day I bought them.

Day 4
I've already started packing. All the stuff I want to take home (mostly consisting of clothes I am too lazy or incompetent to wash myself) lies on my chair. And the tickets? Safe in my purse.

Day 3
Got books from the book club. My nightmare would be a train journey without a book to read. Another would be me getting lost in the book and forgetting to get off (not impossible, I've done stuff almost that bad). One thing I won't be forgetting this time are the tickets.

Day 2
Collected material. Bought CDs. Wrote them. After all they are the second most important I'm talking along. The first? The tickets, of course. And where are they? In my purse, of course. I never knew I could be so organized!

Day 1
Paid the mess bill. Just in time. How they get away with charging so much for garbage is beyond me. The only thing worse is paying a fine to consume stuff prepared by people who flunked the pre-entrance test for the worst cookery school in the world. At least I wont be paying a fine to the railway authorities this time.

Day 0
Tell everybody I'm on my way... I hope these rickshaw people don't think I'm mad. I can't help it, I just can't wipe the huge smile off my face! I don't care! I'm going home! 10 people in a 6 seater as usual, not counting the driver and my luggage. I don't care! I'm going home! Ouch! That pothole hurt! I don't care! I'm going home! With the tickets this time! In the safety of my purse.
My purse???

What happens when a laid back, unfocused, unambitious, "I-don't-know-where-I'm-going-and-am-in-no-hurry-to-get-there" person gets into the driver's seat? Initially there is this immense sense of freedom, of control. Of finally being able to direct the course of your life, of being able to do exactly what you want to. You go superfast when you feel like it and stop in the middle of nowhere when you don't. You stop to smell every flower, to splash around in every pond, to gaze at every sunset. You experience everything you missed when someone else in a hurry was driving and you were just a hitchhiker they picked up. Pretty soon though, the distractions start to rule. You stop to smell even those flowers that make you sneeze every time you get anywhere near them. You splash around in the slimest of ponds. And you stop to look at the sun set even though you see no beauty in it anymore. What is the use of freedom, you ask yourself, if you use it do the same things that you did when you were not free? And then one day you stop driving - you don't see the point. If you don't have to get anywhere in particular, this place is as good as any. You see other cars zipping by, and you tell yourself they are fools. They don't know how to live.
One day, you are so bored of just existing, you get into the car. Just to do something different. Cruise along aimlessly for some time. The driver of a speeding car looks at you and laughs. And you get angry. Do you think I cant drive faster, you yell. I don't want to. I am more in control than you will ever be. But he has sped off. You decide to catch up with him, just to show him you can. And that one thought drives you. You speed up the car. You are a little rusty, but it all starts to come back. Habit takes over and very soon you are driving faster than you've done in months. You don't see the flowers. Or the ponds. You don't even know how many times the sun has set since you started to drive.
You do catch up with him in the end. As you pass him he waves at you, the wave intended as a salute and taken as one. The sunset never seemed as beautiful as it does that night.
You are glad to be back on the road again, glad to have your life back. You just hope, as you watch the last rays of the sun disappear, that you are not one of those people who need to be driven.

The eternal pessimist

Strange, how unexpected good luck is as difficult to digest as unexpected bad luck. Be it an unexpected bonus, unexpected grades or anything. You know you don't deserve it. Everyone around you knows you don't deserve it. And yet, there it is. And the same question going around in everyone's mind - "Why her?" And you have no answers.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that there isn't a part of my heart that wants to dance around with joy, justice be damned. But its movement is severely restricted by the heavier parts. One part is weighed down by embarrassment, one by fear.
Fear? Apprehension is more like it. Because hidden somewhere deep inside is the concept of God. That He runs the world. That His system is not arbitrary, but a well defined one of checks and balances. And an unexpected balance in your account means an unexpected check is waiting for you somewhere.

I do manage to make winning a lottery sound like the most terrifying thing in the world, don't I ?

I feel so special. You see, I have my own personal sun. Sitting right over my head, shining just for me. Don't get me wrong, Mr. V-sun, I'm not being ungrateful, but could you please move back a little? Because, you see, I'm starting to melt!
Everyone here has had it with the heat. A friend and I spent half an hour yesterday looking for places with suns a little less eager to rise and shine. Right now, Darjeeling looks like a cool place to be in. And while that looks difficult owing to my present commitments, I do have another dream. A dream of getting my own Dar(jee)ling into my room.

It all begins with him walking into my room. Tall, dark, and so what if he is not handsome? A flick of a switch, and my world is transformed! I'm curled up in bed under a blanket, probably even wearing a sweater, steaming hot coffee in one hand a book in another. I look out of the window and see snow covered peaks, ski slopes, snowmen, snowball fights...

I know it doesn't make sense. But that's the great thing about dreams. They don't have to.

Seven degrees of boredom
(Haven't had to stoop down to 7th degree for quite some days now)

1. Visiting my own blog. And those of all the people I know. 10 times a day.

2. Orkutting. Scrapping stuff you could later blackmail me with into scrap books of people living a stone's throw away.

3. A walk all the way to the department, just to switch off the lights in some lab (someone will be proud of me)

4. Clothes-free chair

5. Dust-free room

6. Study

7. Bathe

The Past
No schedule, no deadlines, each day a blank page to be filled with anything you like. Most of mine I filled with movies, visits to/from others trying to fill in the blanks and occasional worries about whether the aged would cough up. Life last week was a leaf straight out of a P.G. Wodehouse novel!
I've often wondered while enjoying his books what it must feel like to lead such utterly meaningless lives. Now I know. Its terrible! Not that life otherwise is very meaningful, but it sure is full, leaving very less scope or necessity for meaning. Someone very rightly said - Man invented work to keep himself from thinking. If you sit down to think - "what am I doing here, what is the point of all this" you are not likely to get anywhere. So just keep moving, at least to keep up the illusion that you are getting somewhere.

The Present
Life this week is back to normal. Work. Strangely, I'm more at peace with it. Maybe because I've been to the other side and seen that the grass there is not so green.

It was an important decision and you were glad it wasn't too difficult for you to make. Of all the paths that crossed yours, you had finally decided the one you wanted to go on. It looked interesting, it looked promising, it looked pretty much what you wanted (which was a very big thing since you were never sure exactly what was it that you wanted). And so you took your first baby steps on your new path. Didn't seem all that exciting or different at first, but you knew all that would come later.
You had not gone too far when lightening stuck. There was rain, there was thunder, the sun disappeared for days. And you had to decide. To go on or turn back. You peered into the rain, hoping for a glimpse of what lay ahead. But it only rained harder and stung your eyes. Finally, tired of standing in the rain, soaked to the innermost bone, you decided to continue. You just hoped that somewhere along the path when the sun did finally come out, it would all turn out to be the way you wanted it to be.

That's it!! I'm done. Never ever ever again! Somebody do me a HUGE favour and take the responsibility of killing me if I ever show the slightest inclination of going academic again!
Yes !! Just back from my laaast ever exam. It was a horror, but everyone was scared so I don't feel so stupid. That's the beauty of relative grading. You're fine as long as everyone is down. Aaah, feels so wonderful. And for once the weather matches my mood. Its just stopped raining, everything is fresh and green and cool. Its just perfect! How I wish feelings could be recorded. I don't think I've felt this immense sense of freedom ever! Been jumping and skipping in the corridors, causing minor earthquakes everywhere, but who cares! I'm freeeeeeeeee !!!

Golden rule #1
(For those trying to decide whether something in their life is worth keeping)

If you're going to miss the fact that you had it more that you're going to miss it, you're better off without it.

Lost a ear ring yesterday. This is how I'm trying to console myself. Not really working :(

Random musings

Hmm, another presentation. Thank God ours is over! Now I can listen to what the others say. He's supposed to be really chaapu, hope he says something that I can understand... oh noooo, not about probability. I'll switch off :(( Oh come on, don't be such a child. 12th standard kids are not as afraid of probability. You've at least got to try. Hmm, so far so good... What are they fighting over like this? Is it possible that i've understood and they haven't?? Uh ho, I'm lost. Well, what else did I expect? God, I'm hungry! Look around... has anyone got money along? Whom can I sponge off for a treat? Is he going to talk about probability throughout? Been ages since I went for swimming. I might just be able to make it today... if only they stop fighting. Its actually quite nice in here. Thank God the department has AC! Imagine having to do this in a hot stuffy room. Can the heat really get worse? The sun will have to come down to Kanpur for that. I've been hearing only one voice for some time now. Ooh, they've stopped fighting! Yeees! Ooh, one of the fighters has dozed off! Wish I could do that too... Haven't blogged in ages. Wonder what I can write about... why doesn't something interesting happen in my life? Hmm, maybe I could write about... Why does he keep disturbing my thoughts? Can't he speak a little softer? Wonder what he was thinking about during my presentation? I hope it was something very interesting and I hope I thoroughly bugged him. Actually, he's not bad. But why does he have to talk about probability? And why do they have to hang the stupid clock at the back of the class? God knows the listeners need it more than the speakers! Wish I had eyes at the back of my head... Hey, eveyone is getting up. Hurrah!! The end!

"It can't be done without you."
"How can you say no?"
"Pleaseeeeeeeeee"

And of course I fall for it. Every time. Go against my instincts, my wishes, go thinking I'm doing someone a big favour, go thinking I'm going to save the world and end up finding out that the world didn't really need any saving. And even if it did, there were others much better equipped to save it.
No one ever makes me the scapegoat. I stick my neck out and volunteer.

Some people never learn.

(I know some of you might read this, please don't take it the wrong way. I know you thought the world needed saving too.)

A big day in the history of me

I've been crying, cribbing, pining, dreaming about my own pair of speakers even since I got here. Of course that's not all I did. I'm surprisingly active when it comes to such things. If all the people I unsuccessfully tried to sponge, beg, bulldoze into gifting me one ever turn up with speakers, I can supply speakers to a whole wholesale market! Friends, relatives, friends friends, friends relatives...
Cut to the present. The near present actually. My parents come to visit me and tell me in very clear words to stop all this nonsense and go buy one for me myself. And the good little child that I am, I obey! And they there are - two tiny bundles of joy. Small, black, unpretentious, you hardly notice them until they start talking. And then, you shutup and listen!
I've had headphones for sometime now, but with speakers its totally different. With headphones, the song is a part of you. Its like listening to yourself sing a beautiful song. For those like me who find the very idea impossible, imagine you sing like lata or rafi. Though its wonderful, sometimes you just want to be an audience. To be able to listen when you want to and switch off when you don't. And that is why I LOVE my speakers. And my parents, for making me do this.

Sour grapes?

I see people work. I see them put in days and nights. I see them at 2 in the morning, fighting against time, against sleep to meet the deadline, a hundred thousand dollars hanging in the balance. And I say to myself - thank god I'm working only for a grade.

I see people playing for their country. I see their every stroke analyzed, every move commented upon. I see them being deified with every win and written off with every defeat. And I say to myself - thank god I only play for fun.

I see people in public life. I see their every word being heard, every mannerism being imitated, every mistake being recorded. I see them having to live up to images they haven't created. And I say to myself - thank god, my life is my own.

I see people. I see them staking everything on their ideas, their beliefs, their passions. I see them flying with the highs and sinking in the lows. I see them drunk on achievement, I see them drunk in sorrow. And I say to myself - thank god I never lived?

I am a water girl, as anyone who as seen me anywhere close to water will readily tell you. I love being in water, splashing in water, sitting in water, lying in water... I love water. Get me next to a river, pond, sea, bathtub, and you will see this little child who has been in water enough times to not be afraid, and not enough times to have got used to it all. What completes the illusion is "mommies and aunties" still telling me not to go in too far. I believe I've actually heard myself say my dream is to be a buffalo, sitting in water all day long, doing nothing, doing everything...

All this gushing about water because I've finally come to terms with the huge dent it will cause in my fortune and joined the swimming pool here. And even though the thought of me in a swim suit brings a big smile to many-a-faces, the thought of me in water brings a bigger smile to mine.

You thought you could be one of those people? Them with the shining eyes, the wide smiles, the faraway look on their faces. With senses that are lost to the world. Who think nothing of screaming to the wind - "I'm going home!"

Hah! Think again.

Here I am, finally having a home that I can go back to, and how do I spend my holidays? In an empty hostel, with a thesis, a couple of term papers and some assignments for company. Happy holidays? Good joke!

It didn't turn out to be all that bad, though. It started off with a one day trip to Agra, where we judiciously skipped the mental hospital in case any of the inmates recognized people of their kind. Took a couple of days off to take care of the strain from the trip. And overcompensated for all the misery by sleeping and watching movies when awake.

Its almost the end of the holidays and here I am. With almost as much baggage as I had at the beginning, only, facing a much steeper climb.

Closed eyes, clenched fists. A racing heart, pumping excitement and fear.
Leap!
Don't think, don't look. Just let go.
Maybe you'd fall. Bruised for life and forever afraid.
But maybe, just maybe, you'll fly!

This post is one such leap. Our trip to Agra tomorrow is another.

(The reader may be forgiven for thinking the writer has lept, fallen and incurred major brain damages)

There he stood, tense, alert for the slightest sign of weakness. It was as much a matter of will power as anything else. But even the strong walls of determination could not stop the picture from creeping in. A picture of him, far far away from this maddening civilization, him in an isolated, idyllic place, living life as it is supposed to be lived. Eyes shut tight, he shook his head and hoped the picture would disappear. It was a weakness he could not permit. Had he not been taught the difference between right and wrong? Had he not learnt? Had not the beliefs of generations before him passed on to him? Dangerous things to be passed on - beliefs, he thought. They make you do things without the whys. Shaking that thought away, he plunged into the battleground before anything else could distract him.
He emerged victorious, triumphant, a better person. As he celebrated his victory, a small voice within him said - its not over yet. There's always tomorrow.

Why do we have to bathe everyday?

The only way to learn it all is to learn it all before you learn to ask why

I have developed a newfound respect for Hindi teachers these past few months. How do they ever manage to explain why a pencil is a female but a rubber is a male? I've had to face many such whys here, there being an abundance of Begalis and Andhrites most of whom are deficient in Hindi and are trying their best to make up. A few snippets of conversation will give you an idea of what i'm up against.

Late for class, i'm desperately looking for a bucket to have a bath. I ask my friend who had beat me to the bathroom whether she is done with her's.
V: Becket Milega ?
F: Haan, i'm almost done.
(F is handing V the bucket over the door)
F: Hold on, bucket is male ??
V: Hmm, good question. Ya, it probably is.
F: (Shocked) Are you sure?
V: Well, i know balti is female. We can use that if it makes you feel better. Bucket, i'm not so sure.
F: How can you not be sure?
All this and lots more, with the bucket hanging patiently over the door. The class, do you even need to ask?


F: Main kitna achcha Hindi keh rahi hoon
V: Hindi is female, and it should be bol, not keh
F: (All worked up) Whats the big difference between kehna and bolna ?
V was speechless. V should have said its the same difference between saying and talking. But of course, it didn't strike V then. Strange though, convert the problem to a familiar domain and it doesn't remain a problem anymore. Maybe its not all that illogical. Or maybe, they're all illogical.


Everyone is desperately studying for this horror of an exam. Of course all exams are horrors, but this one is in a class of its own.
F: Main sab bhool gaya
V: Come on, dont say that. You know it's not right. You should say main sab bhool gayi
F of course doesn't see the humour and throws whatever she can lay her hands on at V.


Fed up of being wrong and being corrected, and having lost all hopes of finding logical answers to their whys, they come up with a brilliant strategy. They'll all talk in plural from now. No more gender problems!

Main aur bucket nahane gaye the !

Skiiiiing we will go !!

Its that time of the sem again. The adventure club here has sent out a list of stuff they've got planned for the holidays. Last sem, all the options sounded so exciting, choosing one really tore me apart. This time, it's not so bad. Rafting i've already done (an account which is very long overdue), mountain biking on my khatari doesn't sound too exciting, so its only rock climbing and skiing. And the winner is - of course, i'm going to ski !!

I've been dreaming of snow forever - i want to see it, touch it, feel it, throw it, do everything that can be done with it. Aaah, i just can't wait! And whats making it more difficult is the response i'm getting from people around. From "not interested" to "interested, but there are concerns" to "interested and excited, but will pretend not to be just to torture you" to "interested and excited, but will not jump around like you" .
I miss all the people who could jump to my frequency. The resonance can really take you places.

The name was whispered in dark, secret, corridors. Fear and loathing mingled with admiration when people said - "There goes Vinaya di".
(The di being a sad reminder of the fact that i'm older than everyone here, except probably the building)

It's almost the end of Josh and broken limbs and lots of egg on my face notwithstanding, it was totally worth it! I/we reached the semi-finals in a couple of games, and what caused the above highly exaggerated but not completely imaginary description was the fact that it was completely unexpected. Most people here have been around for some years now, and everyone knows everyone. They didn't really expect a bunch of m tech/mba rookies to storm into the semis. But storm we did. And though the semis are not over yet, i think we've created history.
There i go again. Somebody please stop me before i give myself the Bharat Ratna for outstanding contribution to Indian sports at the intra-IIT level!

Sorry for the interruption
(break in time supply)

It's been one crazy week. It's 6.30 p.m. and i've just got up from my sleep crazy. Josh, the intra IIT sports festival has been going on for a week - i don't think anything or anyone ever has a more suitable name! It exactly fits the mood in the campus. Yours truly of course, quite susceptible to being carried away (which is amazing, cos with all the mass one would expect some inertia), went ahead and registered for everything. Baddie, TT, basky, phatta (informal cricket), kho kho, pitthu, singles doubles, mixed... She stopped only when she found it difficult to remember the names of the events she was participating in.
One week later, older, wiser, worn out and bruised, she has wisdom to share.
1. Your life is never as devoid of responsibilities as you'd like it to be
2. Assignment deadlines have a way of turning up at the most inconvenient moments.
3. I'm going to play n games <==> I'm going to lose n games
4. It really hurts to be the dumb blonde in a game (minus the looks, so actually, all you've got is dumb)
5. It is more satisfying to play well and lose than to play poorly and win.

The week also reinforced some existing beliefs. Games are fun, fun, fun! And i have miles to go before i get where i want to be.

If you are what you eat, i am a boiled potato
If you are what you wear, i don't decide who i am
If you are what your thoughts are, i am confusion
If you are what you read, i am still a teenager
How I wish it could be
If you are what you can be, i am me!

Don't show me the cold

It'll get cooooold, they told me. And i told everyone.
The temperature will go below zero, they said. I passed it on.
Can't surivie without a blower or heater, they said. I didn't doubt their wisdom. Sweaters, jackets, gloves, socks, mufflers - something to cover everything, they said. I obeyed.

He's up to His games again, i guess. Its almost the end of January, and there is no sign of the monster i've been dreading ever since i came here. Keep it up for one more year Sir, and i'll be eternally grateful.

I know its a dog eats dog world out there. And I know i'll starve if I dont eat. And yet, when I walk all over someone else's dream to get to my own, I cant help but shudder. Someday, someone will be doing the same to mine. Will I then be so practical about the whole thing? Will I be able to say - "Poor guy. If he hadn't snatched my food, he'd have nothing to eat". I don't think so.

But, thats the way it is. The world is so filled with people that if you want something, you'll find ten others who want it as bad or even more. And if you get it, they dont.

As someone wise has said - its me, myself, and then the world.

New haircut? Did you fall asleep at the hairdresser's?

And you really thought it couldn't get worse...

Oh my God! Did the hairdresser fall asleep?

Important tasks like this should never be left for the last minute. Not having enough time to visit a tried and tested place (whereby only i get accused of having succumbed to sleep), i experimented. And so did the hairdresser, looking at the results. Looks like she found the final solution to my curly hair problem - no hair, no curl!

If anyone ever has any doubts about the ability of music to reach to the very depth of the soul, just put on your headphones, close your eyes, and listen to Rehman sing "Yeh jo des hai tera".

I'm single !!

And have been for the 20 odd years of my life. So what's new? Got a room to match! Moved into a single room at the hostel a couple of days ago. One whole tiny room, all to myself. To be myself.
What's the big deal, one might ask. After all, i've been living single in a double room for some time now. But its not the same. Not at all. The empty bed, the extra furiture, everything in a double room reminds you that someone is missing. In this tiny place, with just enough space for me, myself and my world, I feel comlpete.

Karmanye vadhikaraste maa faleshu kadachana ...

How can you watch other people enjoy the fruits of your labour, while you go hungry? No matter how hungry they are, no matter how happy it makes them, will not your hunger stop you from feeling happy for them?

Makes you feel like a victim. Makes you resent people you should not. And worst of all, acts as a deterrent for all future endeavors.

To B and S, two of the most proactive people i know. Genuinely sorry things didn't work out. And though I can’t answer the whys, I hope you keep up the spirit.

Not awake and yet not asleep
In a world where reality is a dream and dream reality
I suddenly hear voices that don't belong
Startled, afraid,
Strangers in my home!

Takes an eternal instant
For reality to become itself
For me to realize
That I am the stranger in someone else's home.

You've been uprooted and planted in totally new surroundings. It's a new life in a new place with new people. And yet, within no time, you stop noticing the difference. It all seems perfectly normal until some small incident, utterly insignificant in itself, puts things into perspective.


I'm walking along the hostel corridor when at some distance i spot two bai's chatting. When i get a little closer, i'm shocked to hear them speak Hindi! Bai's are supposed to speak Marathi, I want to tell them, it's like their mother tongue. And then i realize i'm in Hindi's homeland.

I'm just a student like everyone else around. Exams, projects, assignments - you get the picture. One day i notice one of my classmates typing. She's doing it slower than i can do without looking at the keyboard. And it all comes back to me.

I'm riding my cycle to the department and i see two people on a Kinetic. Not a very rare sight, almost an everyday occurrence. And yet, one day it reminds me that I too have one of these back home. I actually have to imagine what it must feel like to ride a vehicle again.

The most effective way to shorten a line is to draw a bigger one

Here I am, on Platform 9 at Allahabad railway station, surrounded by blood thirsty mosquitoes and the biting cold, waiting for a train that is 9 hours late, and yet, i'm not really complaining. Though not exactly singing "God's in his heaven and all's right with the world, i don't subscribe to the popular opinion around that the railways have been taken over by the devil.
All because my waiting list seat got confirmed !

A day less ordinary

Girls Hostel - IIT Gate - some place halfway between IIT and railway station - Kalianpur - Girls Hostel - SAC bus stop - Gol Chauraha - Jhakarghatti (NO, i did not make that up) - Gol Chauraha - IIT Gate - Girls Hostel

Sounds like a busy, productive morning? Busy, of course, productive, hah!

Let me start at the very beginning of this tale of extra-ordinary stupidity. 'm so ashamed of it, i want the world to hear it and laugh at my face so that i dont do such things again (I know the world doesn't read my blog, but i really can't yell this out from rooftops)

It all started one fins (?) Sunday morning. It was the day i was to leave for home after 5 months of stay in the hostel. The day started with me getting up an hour and a half later than i'd planned and 20 minutes before i'd planned to leave. No self respecting girl can get ready in 20 minutes and neither did i. I did manage to get out in less than an hour though. Everything packed, breakfast eaten, goodbyes said, i was on my way to the railway station marveling at me speed and efficiency when lightening stuck. I'd forgotten - you won't believe this - my ticket!! It came a such a shock, i took quite some while to gather myself and ask the rickshaw wala to stop. About turn, back to the hostel. With help from and utterly disbelieving and utterly support classmate, I was on my way to catch a bus to catch my train, ticket firmly in place. The bus timetable however did not match the train timetable and i had to accept the fact that i couldn't make it to the station on time.

Angry, ashamed, frustrated, i cancelled my ticket and booked another one for the next day. Came back to the hostel and narrated my story to everyone, wanting them to laugh at my face. Most were either too disbelieving or too polite to do it. Spent the rest of the day drowning myself in serials and movies.

Latest Update:
A new day has come. I'm sitting in the ladies waiting room at Allahabad railway station, writing this story and many many more. The train is 9 hours late. If this is a regular habit with it, i could have walked all the way from Kanpur to Allahabad and still made it on time!

Kind of takes the punch out of your victory doesn't it, when you find out that the opponent was hollow ... that you really didn't have to put in your best ?

Feelng particularly low since i am the hollow opponent.

You never realized she was gone
Until she took away everything that was hers
Till then, her clothes were her, her bed was her, her books were her...
All alone in a half empty room
The faint echo serving to remind
That the only voice around is your own


An ode to my roomie (what did you think ;)

Law of conservation of responsibility

Whenever you see a carefree soul, completely lacking responsibility, look around a little and you will find another carrying the extra burden .

That will be the day that I die

The day I stop getting that sickening "end of the world" feeling in the pit of my stomach before a presentation.

Of course, time, experience and some surprising and inexplicable positive results have tempered the feeling to "end of a small continent" level.

The ant and the grasshopper
In my room live an ant and a grasshopper. Well, if you want me to be accurate, there live thousands of ants and hundreds of grasshoppers. But, we're interested in a particular ant, lets call it P, and a particular grasshopper, called, lets say V. This ant P works round the sem, Goes to bed only after a good day's work, uses weekends to catch up on where it is lagging. The grasshopper, true to its nature, whiles away time. Looks at the birds and the sky, plays around in the sun, hangs around with other lazy grasshoppers, generally has a good time and works only when pushed very hard against the wall.
Now that winter's here, its playback time for grassy. P of course, having worked all throughout, has enough stashed up to see it through the winter. And V of course, is having a very bad time, hopping from place to place, trying to do 10 different things at the same time. P watches V with an expression that is part smug, part sorry.
V has vowed that this is the last time it is going to behave like a perfect grasshopper. Next sem, it is going to try and mutate into something that is part ant, part grasshopper. So that life is not so much a union of extremes.

On my way to college, there used to be a school for orphan girls, run by the same institute that ran my college. And every morning, as i dragged my feet to college, i used to see the girls playing in the grounds. Volleyball, cricket, just about anything. And they all looked so happy and cheerful and fresh! That to me was, and is, the prefect way to start the day.
Perfection of course, is rarely attained. But, my hour of baskekball in the evening comes pretty close. I may not be great at it, i am not great at it, but it is so much fun. For that hour, there are no assignments, term papers , projects... I'm just this carefree being, living my hour of freedom.

Before:
My room. My PC. And my first episode of FRIENDS ! And tomorrow, i leave for a rafting trip !!
My cup of joy is overflowing, flooding everything in sight.

After:
Have you ever felt that your life is like one of those movies that would have been perfect if only the director had sense enough to end it at the right moment?
How i wish i could have rafted away into the sunset, and not have to return to this routine.

Ditched !! By my commenting tool :((
The official reason - "@%&*@# Basic/free accounts must be upgraded if they are heavily used over a prolonged period of time."
Heaviliy used. Bah
And they dont even let me keep the previous comments.
Now all that my stupid blog contains are my stupid posts. I WANT stupid comments :((

Trial by fire
I came though
scarred, burnt
Lessons never to be forgotten learnt

Background:
This place is filled with Andhrites and Begalis. Every second person is one and third person is the other. And somehow, south Indians any place to the north of south are a novelty. They end up attracting a lot of curiosity and attention.

Excerpts from an actual conversation with Someone (very definitely an Indian):

Someone: All these poeple, they all speak Telugu ?
Me: Yes
S: So many of them ! Hey, you are a South Indian too right? So, you must speak Telugu too
Me: No, i speak Tamil
(that i'm supposed to is closer to the truth, but i didn't elaborate)
S: Tamil? Not Telugu ??
(takes some time to digest this fact)
S: So, there are two South Indian languages.
Me: No, actually there are four .... Kannada and Malayalam
S: Malayalam ? Malayalam ??
(I didn't ask. By this time i was so filled with disbelief, i could believe anything. Maybe she thought Malayalam was just a silly palindrome)

Almost justifies all that "We won't learn Hindi" yelling you hear down South, don't you think?

Introducing - my roomies !

Apart from one insignificant two legged creature, i share my home-away-from-home with the creepies, the crawlies, the wigglies, the jigglies, the fliers, the biters, the fighters, the shouters ....

We're all one big happy family !

(Having to look at them every night makes me wonder - are they really a symbol of the maker's infinitie creativity or of his collosal disregard for his time)

She was really exited about the trek. The breathtaking scenery apart, she would actually be able to walk on snow !! She couldn't even remember how long she'd been dreaming of seeing and touching and playing with it. But when she heard that there was to be a separate trek for girls, she told everyone and anyone who'd listen, with her nose high up in the air, that she would not go for it. Girl-treks would be simpler, shorter, infinitely less exiting....
And then she heard that the boys trek would start from 2000 ft and go up to 5000 ft. And each person would carry 20 kg on their back.
Nose firmly back in position, she practices carrying around 7 kg loads.

Have you ever wished there were 4 of you? Scary thought, more so for me because, no one knows me better than myself :)
Putting it another way, have you even been pulled in 4 different direction? Every direction equally attractive, each pull equally strong, until you actually hope you rip apart, just so the pulling would stop?

A trek on the Himalayas
Rock climbing
River water rafting
Home

All stuff that my dreams are made of (the last one being a recent addition). All to be done at the same time.
No one was more in need of J.K.Rowlings time turner :(

Prologue:
I've always wanted to write a verse. Something a little more abstract than what i generally write. What follows is an attempt at the above. The only thing that gives me the confidence to post this, well, there are two things. One is that most of the current audience of my blog are my friends. And they can't stop reading just because i write unreadable stuff :) I mean, thats what friends are for. The other of course is the "Delete" option in blogger.


Small things
and yet, they bind you
don't let you fly away

You dream
dream of a day
a day when nothing holds you
a day you fly away

And then, bright and new
comes a day
a day when the small things that hold you
the things that bind you are gone !
Nothing stops you from flying away

And then you see
small things
small things you hadn't seen before
and you know you'll never fly away

But, cold and clear
will come a day
A day when the small things that no longer bind will seem bigger than the small things that do
And you'll feel that much closer to flying away.

Saw a foreign language film. Wihout any subtitles. Needless to say, didn't get a thing. The only two lines with subtitles were - "I give others hope. I keep none for myself".
The movie was called - "Lord of the rings - Return of the King". Maybe the name fooled me :(
I knew as much about the plot before watching the movie as i did after. And that is - There is this ring, and it is an evil one. And so, it needs to be put into fire. The ring obviously doesnt fancy such and end to its existence. Once in, and it would become a nameless, shapeless blob of metal. Or worse, thousands of nameless, shapeless blobs of metal. And so, it tries it damnest best to retain its name and shape. Tempts anyone and everyone who try to take it anywhere close to fire. Causes huge wars, huger books and hugest movies to be made. In the end ofcourse, as in all good stories, good triumphs over evil and the ring becomes a u-know-what.
Even with this extremely limited understanding, the movie was fun to watch. But, i still say, gimme a book over a movie, anyday.

Yahoo !! It's thursday !

Special dinner in the mess tonight !! There's little else that makes me as happy as food does.
If one looks at life just as a series of Thursdays, the weeks seem to pass by in a flash. I can remember the anticipation of the last 4 thursdays, just like they were yesterday and the day before, and the day before the day before ....

"Hi there, I am Punctual, Miss Punctual"
(Title inspired by one of Pooja's posts)

I've never been called punctual. Whatever may be the decided time, i'm always 5 minutes late. This is mainly due to an extreme reluctance to start early - somehow starting early seems more sacrilegious than arriving late. And, having been surrounded all my life with people of the older generation for whom punctuality comes a close second to godliness, i've never managed to earn much of a name in that department.
But, IIT K has changed all that. These people have taken punctuality to a new dimension - and left it there !!
A party at 6, and people are tricking in at 7.
A competition at 6, ou team reaches at 7, and we're the first ones there.
A movie scheduled at 9. Its 9.45, the screen still irresolutely white.
A match scheduled at 6 (a.m, mind you), we (the audience) reach there at 7 to discover we've beaten the players to it !

Havn't given up hope. I'm the only one around who still insists we leave at 6 for a party at 6. (Ofcourse, i end up leaving at 6.05 :)) I know though, that i'm fighting a losing battle.

Not fit for the previous generation. Considered hopelessly outdated by my own. I'm going to start a new generation - one for whom punctuality means being 5 minutes late !

For want of a shoe nail

A CD player. Magnanimously gifted by bhai, only too glad to get rid of me.

CDs. Filled with favourite songs carefully picked during my last days in Pune.

Batteries. Amongst the first things i bought on setting foot in K.

But, no headphones :(((

Didn't know i'd miss listening to music so much :(

The day wasn't special by itself but they'd been ordered to make it so. And so, after an extremely ordinary lunch that gave no hint about the festivities to come, they started to work. And work they did, till dinner time.
7.30, and the girls started trickling in for dinner. Dinner - a biological necessity, not something to be looked forward to. So unexpected was it that most of them didnt even notice anything different until they were well inside the dining hall. The whole place had been transformed ! Scrubbed clean, brightly lit, tables covered with table-cloths and table cloths covered with rose petals. They could scarcely believe it was the same old hall they ate in everyday ! As they filled their plates, they only hoped the food lived up to all this decoration.
And live up it did ! It was the food that completed the transformation. From a place filled with some disappointment, but mostly indifference, the hall was transformed to a place alive with happiness! It was everywhere and it touched everyone - those who didnt find the food extra-ordinary, those who were serving it and most importantly, those who'd worked to make it special.

If ever there comes a day when there are only two career options open to me - washing clothes and begging, i'm pretty sure i'll be stuck with the latter. Not so much because i'd make a terrific beggar, but because i'm a terrible washer. One look at the before and after of clotehs washed by me will tell you why. At least to the naked eye, there is no difference in them :(( If only i'd known that a
not-so-up-to-the-mark performance in GATE would lead to this, i would've given everything i had to do better.
And yet, even this dark cloud is not without its silver lining. All this washing contributes significantly towards my goal of winning the inter-galactic baddie
championship. Arms, wrist, plam - washing does seem to be an exercise tailor-made for wannabe inter-galactic baddie champions !

As an aside, all these inter-galactic thoughts can be attributed to my perusal of "The Ultimate Hitchhikers guide to the Galaxy" in my spare time. Its hilariously, uproariously funny. I have to take a break after every two pages to let all
the laughter out of my system. Great chioce, guys !!

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

I actually feel physical pain every time i hear that recorded laughter coming out of a passing room. If only i'd been a little less me, i would've banged into the room full of stangers and sat and watched with them :(
Some day .....
But, i also know that for most events in life (my life at least), the anticipation is more exiting than the event itself.
Here's to anticipation !

I've never been ragged. And looking at what some of the b techs undergo here, am i glaaad i didn't give JEE (Did someone say sour grapes?) Objectively speaking, its not that bad. But singing and dancing is not what what i'm all about, as those who know me will readily testify.
I did have one unforgettable experience with ragging here. Havnig finished my dinner, i was getting up from the table, probably a little hestiantly because one of my friends sitting next to me hadn't finished. This is when this girl sitting opposite did some stange action with her fingers. I was not sure she was looking at me, but there was no one else nearby. I returned an utterly puzzled look and she said - "B Tech, first year ?" I managed to almost fall off my chair and also reach cloud number 9. Its been closer to a decade than i'd like it to be since i was in BE first year !! Took me a long long time to come back to earth .....
And, DARE anyone cast aspersions on the quality of eyesight of such a wonderful pure, benovelent soul !

The bubble did burst when i found out a probable cause for the misunderstanding. All first year b techs had to wear their duppattas in "jassi-style" (NO, i dont watch that serial, this is a second hand description). And, i'd probably unknowingly worn it that way.

Long will live Eakta Kapoor
(Not sure if that is the "latest" spelling, but you know who i'm talking about)

IIT. The temple of Indian education. A place where some of the greatest minds of the country are prepared for the future. (Dont mind my prescence here, i'm the exception proving the rule). A little surprising that the hostel of such an institute has a TV room. A little more surprising that it is seldom unoccupied. But, what is most unbelieveable is what the TV is made to dish out most of the time - yes, all those saas-bahu serials! And tough one wont find too many people in the TV room every day, almost everyone knows what goes on in every serial (me being an exception again, a happy one this time). All those people who refuse to acknowledge Hindi as a language to be used for normal conversation, stuck to the TV.

If this is the future, i wash my hands off it.

I've hooked up to another game. Basketball. If i continue like this, very soon,i'm going to be "not a jack, not yet a king" of all games ever invented.
What attracted me to the game is that it can really strengthen your arms (strength being very much in demand in that region). It can remove the one weakness that stops me from becoming a national, no international, maybe even inter-galactic baddie champion.
Met a girl here who'd played basketball in her school days. And she said that het biggest problem in baddie is that she hits the shuttle so hard that it mostly flies outside the court !!! I have met anti-me !! (remember Shyamalan's Unbreakable?) Anyway, that pretty much decided it.

Basky, here i come !

Anyone who sees me for the first time here will be execused for thinking i'm an exercise addict. From my very first day here, i've started exercising. My roomie is impressed with my determination. Little does she know the real reason behind my persistence :) Everyday, IITK mess does something that makes all this exercise necessary, probably even futile :( Yesterday, it was bread and butter for breakfast. I heard a voice challenge me - "Lets see you resist that". To cut a long struggle short, it didn't and probably never will. Today, it was an indianized version of french fries (much tastier, IMO). The voice again. Some voices never learn.
It is almost as if every morning, as i sweat it out (that being achieveable in K by simply standing) i am atoning for my previous day's sins.
1..2..3..4
Oh lord, please forgive me for the butter
5..6..7..8
and the fries
...

Had Shahi Paneer for dinner. Even had to pay extra for it. The voice had finally learnt its lesson.

I have been uprooted from my world and placed in totally new surroundings. Normally, one of the following should happen:
1. I should have lost her bearings and be trying to find them
2. I should feel on TOP of the world
3. I should feel like running away from this place.

But no. Here i am, life going on as usual, as if nothing has happened. As if it is perfectly normal for a person to sleep at home in Pune at night and wake up in a hostel in Kanpur the next morning.

Sometimes, i have to pinch myself to see if i am really alive.

Today was supposed to be my last day here ...

a day of good-byes
a day filled with memories of the absolutely wonderful times i've had here
and memories of how the not so wonderful times were made memorable by the wonderful people
a day for looking back two years and almost not recognizing myself
a day for looking ahead, wondering if i'll be able to adjust to a college, be able to address people as "sir"
a day for wondering if i'll every see you guys again
a day filled with promises to keep in touch

Guess it was not meant to be. Guess He wanted to make me really really want to go.

So that i dont miss it all so much.

Tried something new this weekend. Said to myself - You're going to have a miserable week. Why have a miserable weekend too ? And so, i came to office on the weekend and did almost absolutely no work !! Was great fun while it lasted ....
Now for the hangover. Its hardly the end of the day and i'm already filled with remorse :((
Guess this is just not me.

Some things never change ...

Still someone who LOVES the beach

Still someone who dreams of playing in the snow one day

Still someone who dreams of standing under a waterfall

Still someone who loves reading

Still someone who finds it difficult to say no

Still someone who hasn't found her calling in life.

On the other hand ....

From someone who in two years talked to exactly two people in her class ...
To someone for whom having a conversation isn't exactly an earth-shattering experience

From someone whose in meetings spoke ONLY when spoken to, and that too a yes or a no ...
To someone who sometimes gives opinions even without being asked

From someone who didn't even know what a pizza tasted like ...
To someone who has tried it all and can't stand anything other than desi stuff

From someone who was unbelievable overweight but didn't look it ...
To someone who is just plain overweight and looks it

From someone who was proud of jogging once around a football ground ...
To someone who can jog for 25 minutes and still say - "Yeh dil maange more"

From someone for whom snacks were incomplete without a second helping ...
To someone for whom only extreme hunger (which is not as rare as she'd like it to be) necessitates a second helping

From someone for whom dreams were dreams, not to be confused with reality ...
To someone who has the courage to convert some one her dreams to reality

Hmm, not bad, even if i do say so myself :)

From someone for whom travelling by bus was a way of life ...
To someone who feels queasy in a 20 minutes bus journey

From someone who could eat anyplace, anytime, the only things needed were hunger and food ...
To someone for whom the cafeteria turns into a land filled with hostile people at the very thought of eating alone

From someone for whom watching a movie alone was an adventure of its kind ...
To someone, at the very thought a shiver goes down whose spine

Where did you go?

Played baddie after aaaaages today .... feel like a human again :))

You know things are not going well when:

1. You leave office at 11 pm one day, and the night watchman on duty gives you a surprised look that says - "Leaving ?"
2. The driver of the "late-night-car" knows the way to your house better than you do.
3. Its monday. You spot a copy of Sunday Times in your house and wonder - Was there a sunday recently?
4. Your vehice headlights are not working. The vehicle becomes useless to you since you never travel during the day anyway.
5. Your colleagues wonder when you go home. Your neighbours wonder when you are home. Your parents wonder when you are home. And you wonder - "Home? Whats home ?"

Life should be more than a series of milestones.... it should be a series of journeys to milestones.

Discovery of the day:
You can hear yourself better when you close your ears.

In case i'd forgotten, he decided to teach me again.
I now re-know why a release is called a release :)

Just the prospect of a trip has made me go crazy ..... dont know what will happen if and when it actually materializes. Going by experience though, i wont be so crazy about it then .... in my case, the prolog almost always causes more exitement/happiness/fear as the case may be, than the event itself.

Should be working, but am totally distracted .....

As far as direction sense goes, you really cant get much worse than me. Having lived in the same city for the past 20 odd years (no, I refuse to get more specific than that ;) ) one would expect me to somewhat know my way around the city. I was reminded how bad i was a few days ago, when i was returning home a little late in the night with a friend. He's been in the city for two years, and claims to have an equally bad sense of direction. And, he knew the way back as well as I did. Or rather, i knew as little as he did. Fortunately, he does not fall into the category of men for whom asking for directions is sacrilege. So, we reached home without too much of Pune-darshan.

The availability of people who can direct you is what spoils it all. I keep thinking - Why bother to remember the way, when you can always ask someone if you get lost ?
A little bit of ego is a good thing sometimes.

Most non-stray dogs you come across are surprisingly well-behaved. Even if they are not tied to a leash, they follow the master (or whoever is walking them), not distracted by anything - be it a dustbin, a jogger, a cat or whatever. Its almost like they are on a wireless leash! It is those few members of the canine species who do not follow the wireless protocol who bring their species a bad name.

These wireless dogs remind one so much of people everywhere - free in body but bound in spirit.

"Man invented work to keep himself from thinking " - said someone, and i couldn't agree more. When life is filled with work, or rather life is work (like mine has been for the past couple of weeks), not only do you not have the time to think, you also stop noticing the small things that set you off on some trail of thought. Which is why, when i am swamped with work, one of the first things that take a hit is my blog - I dont have the time and I dont have the ideas. Not that i'm overflowing with creativity the rest of the time, but least i manage to find something to write
about once in a couple of days.
Beware, all ye readers!! Now that I am relatively free, i'm going to spam my blog with all that has happened all these months.

Some events in life make you question your reasons, your motives. "Why am I here" ? "Why am I doing this" ? Writing get and set methods to provide access for 130 private members of a class at past 10 in the night pretty much did it for me! With each function, I told myself - "Be a lazy programmer. Write a script to do this". But, at past 10 in the night, though you can rely on your copy-pasting abilities, you really wouldn't care to bet on your script writing ones.

There was once this man who lived in a village. Though he had everything he was not happy. His biggest complaint was that his house was too small. One day, he happened to meet the sadhu who sat the the edge of the forest near the village, and poured out all his problems. The sadhu listened patiently and then told him to get his cows to live inside the house for a week. The man had a lot of faith in the sadhu and did as was told. A week later, the man went back to the sadhu and said - "The whole house is stinking. There's no place to cook, no place to sleep, its really terrible ". The sadhu told him to keep his pigs inside the house for a week. The man could hardly believe his ears, but he still had faith. So, again, he did as he was told. A week later, the man came back to the sadhu, nearly in tears. He said - " Now, even the cows are stinking ! No one in the village wants to have anything to do with our family. What should i do ?" The sadhu asked him to take the animals back to their sheds and clean up the house. Relieved, the man rushed home and did as was told. A month later, the man happened to meet the sadhu and the sadhu asked - "So, how's your house?" The man replied - "You must come to my house. I'm sure you have never seen a more spacious house. It's got place for everything I need need and more !!"

Life after GATE is indeed wonderful !!

Pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew !

For those who didn't understand, that was me exhaling.
I'm free !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I miss a target and think i didnt work hard enough
I achieve a target and think maybe it wasn't high enough
Self- satisfaction is so difficilt to come by.

If a classic is "a book that never finishes saying what it has to say", the book on compliers by Aho, Ullman and Sethi is definitely a classic.

Or maybe, i have the memory of a goldfish :((

Sometimes i wonder .....
how it would be
to be at the receiving end of me.

Haven't written anything in ages, but a recent traumatic experience has shaken me enough to take up the pen again. I had to to the bank. Yes, that's it. That's the traumatic experience. And no, the source of the trauma was not the fact that my account had dried up like the wells of my home state do in summer. Any visit to any bank for any reason puts me in a state of extreme nervous tension- comparable to what i feel when I'm appearing for an interview or an oral. I behave like a moron once I'm in one of those places. And invariably get shouted at. The shouting acts as fodder for my next visit's tension. This particular visit was made with the intention of getting a demand draft

I enter the Bank, and it is filled with busy people. In a bank, busy is synonymous with rude. Avoiding them, i look around for a friendly face. The only not-so-busy person i spot is a rifle carrying guard. Summoning all my courage, i go and ask him where should i go if i want to get a demand draft. In a kinder voice than i'd expected, he guides me to the counter and also tells me to ask how much commission i'd have to pay for the draft. A shouting later, i have the form and commission amount. I fill up as much of the form i can understand (yes, it is in english) and am back to the counter man. I dont know where in the form to put the commission amount. Before i can open my mouth to ask him, he grabs the form from my hand. One look at it, and he shouts - "Madam, u've not written anything here, not even the amount". And i manage to splutter - "I wanted to ask what to write". He looks at me as though i'm speaking in some African language. "What to write? What to write ?" - he's stuck that that sentence, not wanting to believe that someone can ask that. I clarify - "Yes, where to put the commission amount". And while he's barking an answer at me, another bark joins in. Several barks later, I'm the proud owner of two forms - one for the draft and the other for the commission. After going through both the forms, i go back to the counter man to submit the forms, but by now, there a line of people waiting to get shouted at. I'm almost at the head of the queue when i realize that nowhere have i mentioned the name of the person to whom the draft is to be made. Sprint out of the queue before the counter man can bark again. After a lot of deep and profound thinking, i realize that probably the Payee column should be the place to put that name. I scratch out Vinaya from there, and put the right name. I'm back at the end of the line, but the rifle man, who'd seen me sprint tells me to go directly to the head of the line. Blessing him, and asking Him to join me in this noble cause, I'm back to the counter man. This time surprisingly, he has nothing to bark about. He writes something on both the forms and hands them over to me. Feeling like i have the key to a priceless treasure in my hand, i look around for the rifle man to ask for directions. By this time, he's convinced that i am an African aadivasi on her maiden visit to the civilized world. He points me to where the cashier and the teller sit and says, go give the forms to him. I promptly head for the cahier's counter. A finger tells me I'm at the wrong place. I submit the forms and the amount at the teller's counter and that guy tells me - collect the draft from there after 10 minutes, pointing vaguely in the direction where all the employs of the bank except him are sitting. To terrified to ask where exactly there is, i nod and come out. 10 minutes later (which i spend trying to get my heart to go slow), I'm back to the rifle man. He tells me "you-see that-RED-shirted-man-there, go-ask-him -if your-draft-has-arrived", pronouncing each word very slowly, not sure whether the African aadivasi even understands the language he's speaking. Gratefully nodding my head, i go and ask the red man. He says he hasn't got the draft yet. I sit down to an infinite wait. Some time later, that man says, "Go collect it form that man there', telling me even how to get there. Grateful, i walk up to that man. He looks up and says "Yes mam, how can i help you? ". Not expecting such courtesy, i manage to splutter - "Draft". He says, "Oh yes. Please sign here". I obey. I'm sure any self respecting handwriting analyst would place the age of the hand that made that sign at not less than 75. Collecting that damned draft, i walk out of the dreaded place. Coming out, i look around to see if i can see the rifle man to thank him, but i see him busy helping a fellow tribesman. Shooting him a grateful look, i get out of the place with something looking suspiciously similar to a cheque. Only, instead of my name it contains the Bank's name below the dotted line. And they say, what's in a name !!!

I am going to name my child Union Bank so that he/she never has to suffer the trauma i've had to.

Though I'm not the praying kinds myself, when people tell me "Pray for me" or "keep me in your prayers", I take it seriously. Plan out a special session with Him to tell Him to keep them in His "TBD" list. Generally, there is something specific I am supposed to ask, like please let xyz get through the interview. But when I actually get down to asking, I keep thinking "Am I right in asking Him to do this? Does xyz really deserve this? Would it not be unfair to others ? ...." As if He is waiting there to do just what I ask. Finally, I end up saying something like "God, please give xyz what he deserves", sounding more like I'm cursing than praying !!!

God, or lets say the creator of this world, in his infinite wisdom, decided to create as many classes of people as there are objects. In non cs language, that means he decided to make each person unique. So that life becomes interesting, challenging, colourful. And while I don't doubt his infinite wisdom (God forbid !!!), I see one not so desirable consequence of this scheme of things. All around, people who are not at all compatible, are forced to live together. While there is nothing "bad" about them individually, some kinds just cant get along with other kinds. Like, though there is nothing inherently wrong with either a square peg or a round hole, it makes no sense trying to force one into another.

A big fish came and ate up all the small fish. And so, i didn't have small things to put up on my blog for sooo long.