Not to be

I've found something else i don't want to be. I figure if i keep at this long enough, I'll eventually be what i want to be.
I don't want to be included in the log that people seem to fear and respect so much when they say "log kya kahenge". I do not want to dictate peoples views, actions, lives, definitely not indirectly, definitely not as a nameless, faceless mass that cannot be argued with. I do not want to be the reason Mrs Subramaniam's daughter cannot cut her hair short. I also do not want to be the reason Mr Sharma stubbornly refuses to take his errant son back into the family. I definitely no not want to be the reason Srygdh abandons his plan of murdering his wife and running away with his secretary. Not that i am for his plan, not for a moment, but I'm not comfortable with that kind of power. I cannot walk around knowing that one encouraging nod of my head and the next thing i know, poor late Mrs Srygdh's ghost has taken up permanent residence in my bathroom, moaning about how her life was incomplete because it ended before she could get her daughter married.
Seems to me there is only one way to not be what i don't want to be. And that is, to stop letting log's opinions dictate my life. Once i do that, i automatically lose the right to disapprove of any one's life choices. I'll be so far down log's morality scale, I'll be out!

Murder she wrote...

(I could kill. But instead I write. The pen is indeed mightier than the sword.)

Why do I have to choose?
Why does no one review my code?
Why is it that each time I expect (and hence am prepared for) my neighbours dog to bark my arrival, he is safely inside? More importantly, why am I never prepared when he does bark?
Why am I not the way I am supposed to be?
Why am I not the way I want to be?
Why are the two so irreconcilably different?
Why is my hand in a cast for an operation on my finger?
Why is there not a single coffee addict in office?
Why is there no beach in the world where it snows?
Why am I always always always in two minds? (Does it mean I'm twice as intelligent?)
Who do I feel better even after writing crap?

I eat therefore I am

In a completely nonsensical attempt to explain the mystery that is Vinaya to a friend, I came up with the answer "I eat when I am hungry". After I said it I realized that it actually makes a pretty good mission statement. Excited, I came up with many more. And then I got bored. These don't even cover all the people I know well, so I doubt you will find yourself in there.

1 . Eat when hungry:
Keeping life simple. Cause and effect. An uncluttered mind. Living in the present.

2. Eat at mealtimes:
Living by the rules. Safe. Predictable. Inflexible.

3. Eat if ( (hungry && you_like_the_food && you_have_company && food_is_hygienic && (!not_going_to_gym_in_10_mins)) ||
(mealtime && you_not_likely_to_get_food_for_a_long_long_time) ||
(food_going_waste) || (mom_says_so && in_the_mood_to_listen) ):
Complicated. Unpredictable. Will take so long to decide whether to eat or not, might end up having no time left to eat. But will be happy with the decision all the same!

4. Eat if the weather is good:
Random. Totally unpredictable. Mysterious.

5. Eat during a public speech. Your public speech:
Shock effect. Living for an audience. Rebel without a cause. Unconventional.

6. Eat if and only if you feel like it:
Very determined. Not swayed by anything, sometimes including logic! Unpredictable. Unconventional.

Hmm. I don't think people can be boxed neatly into categories. Like, I see a bit of myself in 1, a bit in 2, also some in 5 and almost but not quite entirely none of 6.

To fly or not to fly

I sat down to write something but then remembered this poem we were taught as kids that says it so much better than I ever could.

What does little birdie say
In her nest at peep of day?
Let me fly, says little birdie,
Mother, let me fly away.
Birdie, rest a little longer,
Till thy little wings are stronger.
So she rests a little longer,
Then she flies away.

How do you know you are strong enough?

Selectively blind

(One of those rare rants where I express extreme displeasure over everything ever invented, discovered or evolved)

Ostrich, isn't it? The animal that buries its head in sand and believes that since it cant see the enemy, the enemy cant see it? Show me one human being who thinks this is not stupid. And yet, the vast majority of them do exactly that. Cover their senses with a comfortable, protective covering and believe everything is all right with everyone. And its fine by me. If thats the only way they can get through life, so be it. What I cant stand is them making a hole in their covers just large enough for one eye to peek out, using the eye exclusively too see whats wrong with me and shaking their "what is this world come to" head shake. Either you are blind or you are not. In between is nothing.

I know. I should be able to say go to hell, but I cant. Not to everybody.

Aaaaaaaa

I feel kind of left out. And dumb. A silent revolution seems to have taken place around the world without my knowledge or participation. Unless, there was a lot of hungaama, widespread protests, which makes me deaf as well as blind. Whatever be the case, from around the beginning of 2006 the world seems to have agreed that Vinaya is a guy's name. Just like that. Indian railways has been doing that forever, but I thought the rest of the world would have more sense. The only explanation I have been able to come up with the universal lack of recognition of the trailing "a" is - "Rama is to Ram what Vinaya is to Vinay". I've lost count of how many of my phone conversations follow the following general format:

Me: Hello
Caller: Hello. Can I speak to Vinay N?
Me: Speaking
Caller: Mr. Vinay N?
Me: Speaking.
Caller: Hello? (unwilling to believe that connection can distort voices so much in this day and age) Can I talk to MISTER Vinay N?
Me: SPEAKING
Caller: Oooh, its VinayA. He he.
Me: Yeah, my name is very funny. What can I do for you?

It happens regardless of age, gender, education, geography, which is why I believe its a worldwide phenomenon. My hard earned degree was awarded, both during rehearsals and the actual ceremony, to Vinay N. Apparently, the world famous professor considered it more probable for a girl to answer to the name of Vinay than for Vinaya to actually be a name. (Her parents must have wanted a boy, he must have thought, if his thoughts ever stooped to such levels).
Maybe it would help if I would start to write my name as VinayA. But then, what happens to my name on capitals only official forms? Brilliant idea, I could change the spelling! Vinayaa, Vinayaaa, Vinayea, Vinayeah... I'd better consult a numerologist before I do anything rash. My whole future might depend on which letter I use to distort my name!

(Three cheers to me for single handedly typing out this post! Knowledge acquired as part of this process - keyboard shortcuts are not so great for us handicapped folks)

I'm Back!

Blame this post on Monu. He is the one who told me such incidents should be documented, that they increase the BSP (best seller potential) of my blog. Who am I to disagree? So, here it comes, with a little bit of background and lot of mirch masala.

With the IT industry up and running again, placements were great for our class. The biggest majority of would be office going bachchas were lapped up by Bangalore based companies. Pune came a distant second, Hyderabad and Noida being also ran. There was a lot of horse trading from the very beginning, with people falling to unbelievable excuses to tempt people from the other camp. Even stuff like "Who will wake me up for breakfast everyday if you are not there" was considered respectable enough a reason to chuck a great job you still couldn't believe anyone could be dumb enough to offer you. End of the course and barring a few casualties to PhD and laziness, the various camps went to their respective cities pretty much intact. Bengaluru wale (Bengalurueans?) settled in their city (which means they cribbed about the traffic, the cost of everything and local language problems) and Punites settled in theirs (incessant rain, pothole paved roads and rickshawalas from hell for them). Life went on for everyone, with occasional conference calls between the two camps in which everyone spoke at once but no one had anything to say.

One fine day one brilliant Punite had the idea of a trip to what was then Bangalore, to see how the other half of the world lived. Lets continue with our story without getting into specifically who she was. She mailed her folks to see if anyone was interested. Only one other was. Another brilliant Punite, you say? Lets just say his heart was in the right place. These two made plans. Oh yeah, big plans that involved air travel and holidays from office. Her brother was especially supportive of the air travel idea. She not at all secretly believed it was because once she went to what was then Bangalore by air just to meet her friends, no one would ever question his trips to his holy place, even if he said he was going to see off his colleague's roommate's sister's friend, who was going to Chennai for the weekend. A feasibility study followed by in depth research revealed that bus travel for the to journey and train for the fro would be optimal. She promised to book train tickets the very next day after the results were published and the bus tickets a little later. She told the Bengaluru camp she was coming and they made their share of big plans.

A lot happens between this point and the point that follows. However since absolutely none of it is related to the story at hand, we skip ahead after making the following assertions:
1. She did not book train tickets
2. She did not book bus tickets
3. She did not tell him she did not book the tickets
4. He did not ask

Skip to some Friday. The day they were supposed to leave for Bengaluru. She messages him.
She: I hope you are packed and ready. We are supposed to leave today, remember?
He: I am at the bus stop. Where are you?
She: At the railway station!

They laugh it off, hit upon another brilliant idea to go catch Vettaiyadu Vilayadu in the local theater next weekend and go on with their lives. If you want to ask her how she liked the movie, go and read the story again. You have completely missed the point.

If you think this was the worst anti-climax ever, go hit Monu!

Nothing is free!

A recent addition to my extra curricular activities is reading Scott Adam's blog (yeah, the Dilbert guy). He writes every day, manages to make me smile on most days and laugh out loud on some. That guy is comic genius!

One of the recurring topics on his blog is that of "free will". Observing the behaviour of people around the world, he has apparently concluded that free will does not exist, that it is an illusion and loves to rub this in the face of his readers, who, as if on cue, get all worked up. Him and certain events have made me wonder - does free will really exist? My wonder does not extend to any deep, or for that matter shallow, philosophical level, but restrains itself to everyday life.

When you are young and foolish, you believe everything is possible. I am the captain of my fate, I am the master of my soul. Every road is there to be explored, every why to be answered by a why not. And if you don't find a road you like, why not make one of you own? Inevitable falls and bruises later, age and experience begin to take over. Risks no longer seem worth it since you have too much to lose. One by one the paths begin to fade until you see only one way - the safe way. And are convinced there is none other. Poof! There goes your free will. You are now a "moist robot", programmed by life to react in predictable ways to every situation. Living becomes routine and you are glad. The burden of choice is not easy to carry.

Apparently I don't write funny stuff anymore.

Words

Live and let die

Nothing lasts forever
Even cold November rain

Comfortably Numb

Never imagined these words would make sense, leave alone become the thread that one hangs by.

How many times have you heard someone say - "They are nice, honest people"? Really?? Can nice people be honest? Can honest people be nice? The truth is, there is a lot of ugliness in this world and you can either be nice about it or honest, not both.

Life's lessons from last week

1. It takes a lot of strength to hurt the ones you love.

2. The more they leave you to mind your own business at work (and by "your on business" I mean official work assigned to you), the less important you are.

3. Some things are bigger than everything (disclaimer: plagiarized)

4. Sometimes, its nice to live a lie. To get lost in its comforting haziness, never having to face harsh reality.

5. Do not get lost in details, like the little kid who chases the colorful butterfly. Keep an eye on the bigger picture. Not only because you might get lost, also because you might miss that perfect sunset.

There is a war out there
They fight cause its right
They fight cause its wrong
It goes on
Battle for battle, stroke for stroke
The moment one wins, its all a joke.

There is a war in here
Me against myself
For control of the boat
It goes on
Battle for battle, stroke for stroke
Only, whoever wins, I get hurt

A peek into a regular morning of a regular Indian family that

a) has recently been centralized after being a regular distributed Indian family for about two years
b) consists of 4 jobless people and
a) has free Internet from 2 a.m. to 8 a.m.

Life begins at 6 a.m. with the mother tiptoeing into the children's room, not daring to switch on the light lest she wakes up the competition. She makes her way to the P.C in the semi-darkness (which in itself is no mean feat, remember, the two occupants of the room have been thoroughly "hostelized" and are yet to get acclimatized to home discipline) and switches on the UPS. That dumb machine, unaware of the sensitivity of the issue, emits a loud beep that causes the father to open both eyes, the son one and the daughter to stir. By the time the mother has finished her online activities (which cover a wide range - from jewelry stores, to cookery sites to MTV VJs that catch her fancy), the father has completed all formalities and is ready to take over. He then begins his journey of all online newspapers, heard and unheard of. Any missing details are efficiently searched using the small search bar in Yahoo Messenger (the existence of which, I am ashamed to say, I discovered only after I saw him use it). In typical Indian tradition, the son takes over. And in typical gen Y tradition, he dispenses with all formalities and jumps directly from the bed into the chair. While he organizes a massive and comprehensive hunt for unheard of songs and obscure comics, the daughter awakens. Having always belonged to the "Oh Shit! Its morning" community, she takes her time going about it. The Internet, her only gateway to the external world, proves a strong enough motivator. She wakes up, kicks the son out and settles to her few minutes of bliss, which consists of alternating between Orkut and Gmail. Yes, free Internet is pretty much wasted on her. She is lost to the world until someone shouts - "5 minutes to go!". She immediately wraps up her activities and very generously offers the remaining minute or two to anyone with an emergency.
8 a.m. Life goes back to normal.

You would think that with
a) the two children occupied in jobs that provide free Internet and ample free time to (ab)use it and
b) an upgraded Internet connection that is "free" the entire day,
the contention would have reduced. Ha! Remember that law we were taught in school that gases expand to fill the space available? They forgot to mention that it applies to free Internet too!

Back to work. A new place, a new beginning. Somehow not quite along the lines of my past beginnings. Allow me to explain.

Flashback: my first job. Though I had got in the hard way [a test, a couple of interviews one of which gave rise to serious doubts about my ever having done engineering], I knew that I still had to prove myself. I had to start from zero and build up from there. People knew nothing about me, assumed nothing and expected nothing out of the ordinary [ordinary of course being completely subjective]. I could take my time, make my mistakes and learn.

Cut to IIT. Another beginning. Another start from zero. Lot more time, lot more freedom to make mistakes [because they hurt no one but you] and a lot more to learn.

Back to work. A new place, a new beginning. But no start from zero. The bar has been raised. My past has caught up with me! People know where I am from and hence assume something, expect something. Nothing out of the ordinary, to be fair, just that ordinary has become a little extra-ordinary.

The countdown begins!

My last Saturday in paradise. Inspired by a couple of movies (oh yeah, some movies do that), I've decided to chronicle every day of this last week. I know the whole thing sounds terribly self indulgent, but it is my blog after all! People! Make it special so i wont have to sink down down to the "brushed my teeth, had a bath" level!

Morning. Surprisingly spent doing work. Work meaning listening to Devendar give an excellent demo to some visitors. And running around for a gate pass, meeting unexpected obstacles, balanced by unexpected kindness. Lunch in CR with the visitors.

Afternoon. Yesterday i created history by becoming the first girl to ever sleep in the department. Decided to repeat history today, but fate (in the form of Nitin and co) had other plans. He and a bunch of others thought it would be very funny to sprinkle some namkeen on poor ol me, an opinion to which i would have wholeheartedly subscribed, had i been but a slightly more impartial observer. Woke me up with a start they did! Screamed them away and tried to take up where i left off. But some things broken cannot be mended.

Evening. Whiled away hogging and chating, weather being surprisingly cooperative.

Late evening. My first football match. As audience, of course! That too on the big screen. Germany versus Sweden. Kept bugging Sudeepa with rookie questions throughout. (Still cant digest her interest in football, Bengal or no Bengal!) She tried her best to show me Miroslav Klose, but always ended up showing me his back. Not particularly handsome, that!

Night. Saw "Whisper of the heart", my first foreign language film. Not bad, and partly responsible for the inspiration mentioned in section 1(a) above. Concluded with a "coupled" belated birthday celebration. The last ever birthday celebration of MTech 2004. I should have kicked someone. Sigh. A group of classmates "ba ba" ed their way into a nimbu pani treat tomorrow. (Details in some Telugu movie, name unknown)

Tomorrow is Sunday! Very likely to be very uneventful.

Ever get the feeling that fate is playing with you? That is is tempting you with a... i don't know... dark temptation, lets say. (If you don't know what that is, no games fate can play can be as cruel as your life!) And just when you think you are about to bite into that delicious, irresistible, incomparable combination of rich chocolate and ice cream, fate snatches the plate away. All you are left with is thin air and a reminder of the smell.

The first time, you feel like kicking fate on the backside. The front side. And every other side that that multi-dimensional polygonal concept has. After several iterations, slowly, you learn. To live. To hope. Perhaps to even enjoy the taste of thin air. You see that all your kicking and screaming has no effect on fate whatsoever. And so you stop. Take things as they come. Hope, that fate will get bored of the games when it sees that it is not getting to you any longer.

Nursery rhymes making a sudden re-entry into my life, so i end this post with one.

Old Mother Hubbard
Went to the cupboard
To fetch her poor dog a bone;
But when she came there
The cupboard was bare,
And so the poor dog had none.


*ing: My guide as OMH, me as the dawg, my defense as the bone and my internal examiner as the contents of the cupboard.

Three pairs of specs, too good to be true!
One crushed in a Basky match,
And then there were two.

Two pairs of specs, oh what fun!
A frame split for no reason,
And then there was one.

One pair of specs, now that's a laugh!
A temple broke while wrestling
And then there was half.

Half a pair of specs, ever got that done?
Soon joined the other half,
And then there were none!

(Managed to salvage two complete pairs of specs out of the wreckage. A big thanks to my caretaker mom and my anna's anna for helping me through my blindness)

Door se dekha to chand dikh raha tha
Door se hi nihara aur nikal gaya
Paas jaane ki tammana thi na aarzoo
Jab bhi paas gaya hoon, bas daag hi dikhe hain

What happened to me???

(A fraud post, in keeping with my current way of life)

There are so few people in the world who know what they want to do, it is a pity/waste/crime to keep them from doing it. For whatever reasons.

What's eating Vinaya N?

Apart from a report that a snail would say is going at snail's pace and segmentation faults that drop in unannounced, bug you the whole day and then disappear without giving you the satisfaction of having driven them away, it is this. Is it right to do unto others what they do to you? On one extreme, you can sink down to the level of the lowest human you meet, letting him get what he gives. And on the other, you can decide to take the high road, letting people take advantage of you in the process.
The answer, as usual, lies somewhere in between. In defining limits. A lower bound below which thou shalt not sink and an upper bound beyond which though shalt not be nice (My language affected by too much association with the people of a certain room in the department and re-watching I Dream Of Jeannie). And while the theory seems sound enough, the devil is in the (implementation) details!

No, I am not brave.
Bravery is doing something despite your fears.
I have no fears to overcome.

No, I am not a monk.
A monk gives up all desires for something higher.
I have no desires to renounce.

No, I am not ruled by emotions.
I do not get carried away by joy or drown in sorrow.
A smile and a frown are all that I need.

Yes, I am the undefeated King.
Not because I have won all my battles
But because I haven't fought any.


(The mind moves in mysterious ways on a Sunday afternoon)

Some things in life are only possible in a college hostel.

Spending hours sitting on a structure suspended between the second floor and the terrace of the department, gazing at the night sky, discussing life, the universe and everything...

Deciding on a whim to go to the faculty building roof at 12 in the night (inspired by five point someone?), half expecting to find people drinking vodka. Climbing 6 floors, making our way through dark corridors (feeling very much a part of a detective novel) looking for the way to the roof. Only to find that though the roof is very much there, the only way to get on it is to climb down a rickety ladder.

Four people. Three guitars. Tuned to three different pitches. One song (Uthe sab ke kadam...). Girls Hotel terrace. Again past midnight. It must have been cacophony, but to us it was pure music!

Past 1 A.M. Basketball court. A bunch of super enthusiastic classmates, most of whom had never touched a basketball before. And one of the most enjoyable games of basketball ever, despite me being blinded halfway because of broken backup specs. Surprisingly, I have one more pair to spare. When did I become one of those people who have a second backup for everything? Noooooooo I didn't, this just happened to happen.

M Tech second year students ready to play anytime I whip out a sponge ball (a very cute birthday gift with the original yahoo smiley drawn on it). 20 somethings who are soon going to take up responsible jobs actually making faces at each other, the same faces that tiny tots 20 years their juniors make in play school. Going from lab to lab, asking people to narrate their love stories or lack of them. Water fighting in someone else's lab, wetting some innocent non bystander's keyboard in the process and making a sworn enemy out of him until he gets a chance to wet some other innocent non bystander's keyboard. Hiding each others keys, purses, mobiles...

Damn! I am going to miss it all. Terribly :(

Been a while since I got back from the ski trip. An amazing week filled with trains, rocks, snowfall, snow, skis and fireplaces. Snowfall is breathtakingly beautiful, snow simply amazing! Rock climbing is a little scarier than I thought but as much fun. Skiing is a lot more hard work than I'd ever imagined! But once you learn enough to be able to zoom down the slope fast enough to get the feel of a free fall, there are few things better. Presenting some random snapshots of the week.

Whether they were coming back from lunch, dinner, skiing or a short 5 minute stroll in the sun, the moment anyone entered the room they made a beeline for the fireplace. A small stove kind of a thing that ran on gas, it was a life saver! Frozen body parts, frozen gloves, wet socks, damp shoes, there was nothing it couldn't set right. I'm sure none of us have looked at God with as much devotion and hope! And even incidents like someone's shoe catching fire could do nothing to lessen it. I dried and re-dried Anjali's gloves so much that they shrank a couple of sizes at least. Varun and I had planned on giving one glove each to our respective kids so that if they ever meet at Kumbh Mela... But Anjali liked the shrunk version so much, she took them away :(

It amazing how one snowfall can turn a barren mountainside into a thriving market! Suddenly there were shops, snow mobiles, snow carts, yaks and scores of instructors. What was more surprising was the number of tourists that suddenly sprang up to meet the supply. Oh how I envy people who can turn up in Manali on a Thursday, on barely a day's notice! Took a short yak ride up the mountain, my yak being uncharacteristically reluctant to climb. I wonder why. Also slid down the mountain sitting inside a truck's tube. Reminded me how much fun simple things can be. Also discovered that the inside portion of a truck's tube is not as spacious as one would like it to be.

Chandigarh. Never seen a city so obsessed with cleanliness. Even the railway station is clean. The lady in charge of the waiting room actually drove us and our baggage out so that the room could be cleaned. Waiting rooms are meant to be cleaned. That people use it for waiting is only incidental, a nuisance at best. The platform cleaner was no better. Neither we nor our baggage came up to his standards of cleanliness and so we all got doused with water. He would have scrubbed us too if only we'd let him! Only when I landed at Lucknow station and was welcomed by a cow and the accompanying smells did those little inconveniences seem worth it.

To the kind soul who had wandered this far,
This post consists solely of the ramblings of someone who has not written in some time and will not be able to for some more. So if you are looking for coherence, meaning or anything remotely interesting, please look elsewhere.

Wait. Wait... I changed my mind. Feeling too lazy to ramble so just the highlights.

a) The weather is just glorious!
b) My guide took us out to lunch yesterday. Amazing food!
c) I finally rode a motorcycle here!! Refer to a) for the weather conditions. A couple of rounds of the academic area with a friend sitting behind and I didn't fall or stop! The only blemish on my record was that I followed a cycle-rickshaw wala for some time, too scared to overtake. A high speed ride as the pillion rider and I was wishing I could break my legs just to get a bike inside! Okay I rambled, but this is special!
d) I leave today for a week long skiing trip to Manali! Finally!! My first look at snow... Reminds me of a couple of twenty somethings who were seeing the sea for the first time. Their independent first reactions were - "The water is so salty"! I hope I have something better to say!

And 12 days later, I'm back! How much disciple does that imply? Some, but nowhere near enough. And I've come up with an explanation for its absence. Even after taking into account the prescribed dosage of movies/books/bulla, there are two kinds of people in this world - those who count every minute and those who don't. And I am the queen of the latter! I never say no to anything - be it being the 13th girl in a basketball game (which is 5 a side game), or being the one to go early and stand in the queue in a theater, or watching a movie for a second time within the span of a month. You name it, I'm your girl! The thing is, I don't feel I am wasting time, I feel I should feel I am wasting time. I've been pondering about the possibility of attaching artificial value to my time. 'Cause people will value your time only if you do. So the next time you want someone to go to the flower show with you, I'm going to be too busy! Even though I may have nothing better to do and might be dying to go there myself.

An observation on the counting class (Ha! That's one name I remember from my Computational Complexity class!). They do use some of the minutes they count, but in general they seem satisfied with the count of minutes they have not spent doing something light/enjoyable/pointless, and don't bother too much about what they actually spend that saved time on.

The frequency of posts on my blog is directly proportional to the discipline in my life. If I am in one of my eat-watch movie-sleep cycles, you are unlikely to be treated to a peak into my life. 'Cos believe it or not, it takes time on my hands and space in my head to come up with this rubbish. Whereas if I am in my eat-work-watch movie-play-sleep cycle, I am more likely to be hit by an idea or an incident. And that is when this blog comes to life.
This post? Is an indication of an attempted transition from the former cycle to the latter. Hoping to be back here sometime soon!

Dame Falls-A-Lot. Yeah, sounds nice, suite me to a tee, think I am going to make it my name. (Minus the dashes, in case you were wondering). And before you accuse me of having delusions of grandeur, let me state that if Phoebe (Buffey, of course) can be Princess Consuela Bananahammock, I can certainly be a Dame. And before you accuse me of being addicted to a T.V. series, I admit I am. I only stopped watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S when I could mouth the dialogues with the characters. I am getting addicted to another series, but that is material for another post.
Coming back to the topic. These past months, I've been falling. A lot. Well, no, that's not entirely true. I've been having weird, embarrassing accidents and getting stitched up a lot. (But Dame Gets-Stitched-A-Lot is not as cool, with or without the dashes). A stitched upper lip, a stiff index finger that I can't bend a month after the stitches came off, a grazed palm that cannot be bandaged, that forces me offer two fingers as a handshake, a sprained shoulder that can "act up" whether I am playing badminton or tug of war or sleeping... life's been a bed of rose bushes minus the roses. With a birthday coming up and my loving friends on a mass recruitment drive to find people to "pick me and kick me", the bushes are likely to be devoid of roses, atleast in the foreseeable future.

There is something terribly wrong with a country where a civil graduate has to celebrate getting a job in a software company.

Life generally consists (or is supposed to consist) of activities that add up to your future. You study for that exam, work for that pay packet, practice for that match, pass up the second helping of cake in the hope of getting into that dress. Anything done for the present in considered an indulgence. Be it that movie or book or game or chocolate. But sometimes there comes a moment that makes your present so profound that it becomes a part of you and thus of your future.
I watched Nayakan today. I have no words to describe the experience except to say it was one such moment.

"If your girlfriend says she wants to talk to you at 5 in the morning and you don't have an alarm clock, you will of course stay up all night. That is the kind of passion you should have for sports", said Kapil Dev when he inaugurated the 41st Inter-IIT sports meet at Roorkee. Do I have that kind of passion? Err... well... no, or I would not still be struggling with my tosses and smashes. The lack of passion however did not stand in the way of a thoroughly enjoyable week spent at IIT Roorkee. There were so many firsts, I don't know where to begin.

It was the first time I was living with a gang of girls all younger to me. I was promptly christened "Super Amma" and was expected to take care of the lot. An expectation which I cruelly crushed on the very first day by losing the house keys. Singing, dancing (not me, of course), breaking the 10 o'clock "curfew", climbing over closed gates and running away from the pursuing watchman, imposing atrocious crushes on one another - we did it all!

It was the first time I had hot chocolate and it was love at first sip! We (I should not take all the credit) managed to finish their hot chocolate supply within two days of our arrival and had to spend the rest of our days licking our lips in memory.

It was the first time I saw hooting as it should not be. Dirty, personal and irrelevant, I'm sure it equally disturbed players of both sides. At times, it even seemed to have a life of its own, independent of the match. There was good hooting too, my favourite being
"Bombay/Delhi/... tum sangarsh karo
Hum tumhare saath hain
Tum hamare bete ho
Hum tumhare baap hain!"

which we adapted for girls matches as

"Bombay/Delhi/... tum sangarsh karo
Hum tumhare saath hain
Tum hamari bahuen ho
Hum tumhari saas hain!"

It was the first time I had 6 meals a day! Almost everyday. Three in the mess and three in the canteen. And at least half of them involved paneer/cheese. It's a wonder I didn't get to a stage where I could form the badminton doubles team all by myself!

Most importantly, it was the first time I participated in a tournament. Saw the pressure, the tension. Got nervous in my first tough match. Realized in the second that nervousness can be controlled. Played decently and we won the gold (!!), all thanks to a brilliant captain, a dedicated coach, and the super-patient and enthusiastic folks back home at Persistent who got me started.

All said and done, there is no place like Inter-IIT to motivate you. It shows you how far you have to go and makes you wish you were there yesterday!

I love train journeys. Or rather, I love to say I love train journeys. The former was true in times when train journeys were few and far in between. They would be family affairs, with at least 4 berths to our name. One could sleep anytime, sit by the window anytime, stand at the train door anytime... Now, life consists of bi-annual train journeys undertaken alone, unless luggage can be counted as a companion. One can either sit at the window all the time or sleep all the time. And not even think about standing at the door. People without exception behave as if girls traveling alone are more likely to be swept off by the wind. And the pantry food manages the impossible - makes me wish I was eating in the mess! I do not step into a train without a book. But more often than not, the book turns out to be one sent to stress-test my patience. I can almost hear Him laughing at the cheap shot. Unable to read, unable to not read, I end up spending most of the journey sleeping.

Despite all this, I still get excited at the prospect of a journey. Those five minutes spent gazing out the window, cool wind in your hair. The day spent among strangers you've never seen before and will never see again. Waking up suddenly, sure that you have overslept, finding that its just ten minutes since you last did the exact same thing, happily going back to sleep. All those crazy things you think about when you are alone.

This time, the TC gave me something to think about. Its night. I am in deep sleep, minding my own business when a hand shakes me awake roughly. A voice follows.

"Bhaisaab, ticket dikhana."

!!!

It was not as grand as last time, although it was more fun for me because I was a part of it. The recently concluded IIT Kanpur sports meet - diluted in the hope of avoiding certain unpleasantness also ended up avoiding the festive atmosphere. Half the fun in such events is seeing your hostel and roads filled with strangers from another world - they somehow make it a different place. Less teams, less competition and hence less satisfaction, especially in the games I played. I watched the guys fight it out in the same games and man! The difference in level!! I was not sure it was the same game! A rather uncharitable idea occurred - with certain exceptions, beating the best girl player in a sport can be an entry level criteria for the boys team.
A couple of observations when I was watching the guys play. These observations have been made as a complete outsider, for, the level at which the games were played, I am an outsider.

Anger. Frustration. Despair. Elation, no not exactly, more like triumph. The feeling you get after you crush your opponent. Revenge. All so much a part of the game. And very likely to affect it. I wonder if a calm, controlled player would be more effective than one who gets carried away. Sometimes, you need the anger to propel you.

Got to see how extremely important fitness is. You might be the best player there can be, but it can all so easily come to nothing if you can't last for the entire game. It is very painful to watch people huffing and puffing, or playing with a sprained shoulder or ankle. They can't possibly enjoy it. And if you can't enjoy the game, it reduce to senseless physical torture. Games look so beautiful when the effort is not visible.

This from a person who reaches the end of her stamina after 5 minutes of knocking and sprains her shoulder every two days. Now that I've seen how it looks, I'll do all the running the coach asks me to.

If it wasn't for the policeman, every one of us would be a thief!

No. No one great said it. Just me. This is the conclusion I have come to after watching myself for the past couple of weeks. Me, not long ago considered to have machine like sincerity, having to fight with myself for five minutes of work. Just because there is no one to answer to. I never realized I had to be driven!

I look around and see I am not alone. And I wonder, if everyone wants to be a thief, why do we have policemen at all? Why don't we have a "all you steal is yours" kind of society? A friend told me that I leave a lot of unanswered questions on my blog. I agree. Only, she thought I was too lazy to think about the answers while I maintain that I am too dumb. This one too is beyond me. The only explanation I can think of is that some super intelligent fore-father of mine figured out that we'd get wherever we are going sooner if we didn't have to keep checking our backs.

London! The land of my dreams! Amazing how the thing you yearn most for can be staring right at you and yet you don't see it. I never imagined there'd actually be such a place. Paradise! Though I generally turn up my nose at settling abroad, London is something else. It'd be very difficult to pass up such a chance. Be it a call center job or a waitress at an Indian Dhaba - it'd be very difficult to pass up, as long as its there. If you are up there and listening, please please let me be a Londonwasi in all my future incarnations.

I hear it is quite respectable there to bathe just once a week.


P.S. I realize this is a recurring topic, but it is a recurring problem.

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.