diaries of a nomad...

The (Urban) Youth Conundrum

2011-02-08T22:43:00.002+05:30

India, a country that was once synonymous with snake charmers and elephants, is today most identified with the burgeoning youth of the country. According to demographics, half of our 1.2 billion population comprises people under 25 years of age, the so called youth of the country. It is commonplace to hear how the youth of the country will be harbingers of change and progress, how the youth will lead India on its way to becoming a global superpower et al. Is that really the case?

Taking potshots at the government, condemning corruption, questioning issues like reservation, making ignorant judgements about current affairs is an everyday occurrence amongst the urban youth of the country. Indulging in India bashing is as fashionable as owning the latest Blackberry or iphone. This of course is a limited exercise as the rest of their time and energy is spent in beauty salons and gyms or watching MTV Roadies and Big Boss. If only our leaders were bikers and enjoyed voyeurism, politics be so much more interesting. Right?

Also, according to a report 3 lakh Indian students are studying abroad, primarily in USA, UK, Australia and Canada. So while a large percentage of the youth of the country choose to pack suitcases for western shores; five years from now I can only imagine them having Sunday brunch at a five star hotel indulging in more India bashing, rather than being initiators and drivers of positive change in the country.

At this juncture I’d like to discuss the education system of our country. “The idea of education is to learn to think for yourself” (The Dead Poets Society). In India, however the idea of education takes on a completely different meaning. Education in India implies beating the competition by getting better scores. This sense of competition is instilled at a young age and it gets cancerous with age. It would be foolish to suggest that it is a wrong thing. In a country as populated as India, merit is probably the only consistent indicator of excellence. Marks scored in the tenth and twelfth standard determine what career path one should take. The great Indian middle class mentality hasn’t changed much over the years. Higher marks would translate to a doctor or engineer in the making. A lower score would mean a science, commerce and arts graduation, in that order. A booming economy has helped change people’s mindsets but by and large things continue to be the same.

Majority (not all) of the youngsters get into a graduation program, not because they have an aptitude for it, but because circumstances, social dictums and marks suggest they take up a particular field of study. Having said that, it would be safe to assume that once they get into a professional course, they would take the opportunity to make the most of what should ideally be a different kind of education. Specializing in a particular field should open one’s mind to think, to dream of the endless possibilities and to aspire to do something with that education. Unfortunately, marks continue to haunt the Indian youth in professional courses as well. Higher marks would mean getting into a good post graduation program or the chance to sit for placements. Consequently, most of the youngsters get caught in this vicious cycle, and only a few have the courage to challenge this age old system and break out of it. So, in essence most of the youngsters are cast out of the same mould, a mould that doesn’t encourage free thinking. On the brighter side, however, the number of people taking steps to challenge this mentality is increasing all the time.

To bring about the clichéd change in the world, we need an education that fosters free thinking, an education that ennobles the concept of holistic learning. Getting there will take time and consistent efforts by policy makers. Steps have been taken by the government under the 11th five year plan (2007-2012), where in education has been given substantial impetus to bring about inclusive growth. On the urban educational front however, much needs to be done to change mindsets. I believe that the Prime Minister, along with the Education Minister should travel to all major metropolitan cities conducting rallies where they interact with graduate and post graduate students directly, sensitizing them on the issues plaguing the country and highlighting the benefits of a good all round education and how the country actually needs the youth to be leaders of tomorrow. ‘An each one-teach one’ campaign on a national level, should be government initiated and steps should be taken to make it compulsory within the curriculum across education boards. This would serve three purposes, one- to encourage the urban youth to come to terms with the realities; two- to inculcate in them a sense of responsibility towards the society; three- to help give them a sense of reason and direction with respect to their education.

“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies” (The Shawshank Redemption) I am hopeful that the youth of the country give up their callous chalta hai attitudes and take proactive steps towards making things better. I am hopeful that the brain drain decreases progressively. I am hopeful that the youth of the country triple our GDP. I am hopeful that the youth of our country eliminate the literacy problem. I am hopeful that the youth of the country eradicate poverty. I am hopeful that the youth of the country make India a superpower in its true sense. I am confident however, that the youth can deliver if they choose to. Whether or not this happens, time will tell. Hope.

Happy New Year ?

2011-01-15T22:12:00.003+05:30

My new year began with two results

I hoped that I would not mope but exult

But FMS and the IIMs chose to play bluff and slots

SP Jain happened to call the right shots

Somewhere down the road, I'll find reprieve or I'll start a cult!

Hope your new year has had better starts.

Happy New Year!

Sick Leave

2010-12-27T10:45:00.003+05:30

I was a little unwell yesterday, and was out most of the day. That explains my first default in the last 13 days. I'll come up with something by this evening though.

Hairy Nomad

Holiday

2010-12-25T21:43:00.002+05:30

Fatigue has set in. Unfortunately. Also exam fever. Have one next Sunday. XAT. Also some other things. Mishmash.

Today was Santa Claus's day

Wish he would not go and stay

I still haven't found what I am looking for

Santa please give me strength a bit more

How can it be Christmas when I didn't even sing Jingle all the way.

Apologies,

Hairy Nomad

p.s: Tomorrow I will try to come up with a proper thing.

Happy Santa Day!

2010-12-24T18:30:00.002+05:30

So, it is Christmas eve today. Makes sense for me to write a Christmassy post. I'd like to share some school memories from Christmas time.

Our Diwali vacations, unlike other schools were just two weeks long. They were generally spent studying, because once school reopened we would have to sit for our Second term exams. Diwali holidays for us, apart from the main three days of frolicking were usually a mundane affair. But it was worth it, because what followed post exams were three weeks of unbridled enjoyment. Soon after the exams, classes were called off and the entire school from Jr. Kg to Std 10 was engulfed with Christmas concert fever. We had an annual Christmas concert, which I believe is a tradition as old as the school itself. The Christmas concert was spread over 3 days and was usually held in the third week of December, a few days before Christmas. It was compulsory for every single student to participate in the Concert. That was the hall mark of the Christmas Concert.

Classrooms were re-arranged to make place for dance floors and stages. Corridors reverberated with blaring sounds from speakers or choirs as teachers overlooked rehearsals. There was a buzz about school that was very pleasing. When there was nothing going on the open classrooms were used to play rounders or hitty-kitty, games you need to see to understand. Many kicked back with a book or a video game and it was all allowed. We were actually in Santa's wonderland for a good three weeks; complete no holds barred fun. The concert itself was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Most students got an opportunity to shake off their stage fright, as participation was compulsory. There were a lot of Scottish collectables on sale too, and each day the concert concluded with a performance by somebody famous. And of course there was Santa Claus on his sled throwing goodies into the crowd. The finale of the last day was always a performance by Standard 10. I remember our final year performance well, when the entire standard was up on stage and sang Live is Life by Opus. The memory of it still gives me goosebumps. Good old days. What I'd do to go back in time and relive those 3 weeks for one last time. But alas, Live is Life Na Na Na Na .....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGikhmjTSZI

Merry Christmas! Happy Santa day! And don't listen to those Facebook messages that tell you that there is no Santa. Even WikiLeaks has its office at the North Pole for a reason.

There is a little bit of Santa in all of us !

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

p.s: The concert was followed by a three week vacation :)

Blank

2010-12-23T07:50:00.003+05:30

The boy in Mahim draws a blank

His mother hits him with a wooden plank

Study! Study! everybody yells

What will happen of the blog I only scream and yelp

Tomorrow is a new day, a new dawn, time to bell the crank!

Blank,

Hairy Nomad

Food Fronicles!

2010-12-22T21:37:00.007+05:30

(I was speaking to acousticity earlier today and he was telling me that I shouldn't have gotten myself into this blogpost a day, for 30 days madness. 15 days should have been sufficient. Oh well, there is no getting out of this now. The exit is 21 days away, and contrary to what acousticity thinks, me thinks that fatigue hasn't set in yet.)

Although I am not a voracious eater, food has a special place in my life. I enjoy food immensely. Food shows on television are my weakness. There is something very therapeutic about watching somebody cook good food. Even though I might not eat most of the things that are shown, I love watching food in all its glorious avatars. Food Paradise, a one hour show on TLC showcases America's pig out spots for a particular type of food, every episode. Oh what fun to watch! Then there is Man vs Food, again on TLC a complete nonsense show where the host Adam Richmond takes on food challenges across America. Nigella Feasts, Hells Kitchen, Kylie Kwong and (Sir) Anthony Bourdain complete the TLC lineup of food shows that I enjoy watching. Anthony Bourdain, (Sir Anthony Bourdain to me) is pure genius. With a sweet yet melancholic voice laden with sardonic undertones, this frail white-haired New Yorker of French descent, is a gourmand par excellence. Hearing him talk about food is like hearing Mahatma Gandhi talk about ahimsa.And to compliment his subtle wit, he has a stomach of steel. I highly recommend his India episodes where he binges on anything and everything without breaking a sweat. I begin my day with Masterchef Australia on Star World. I've been following it religiously from the start and the show is in its last week now. With a bawa Jimmy in the top 5, the last week is already shaping up to be a complete potboiler. Highway on my Plate on NDTV Good Times has attained cult status in my house hold. Even my mom and dad enjoy watching the food adventures of Rocky and Mayur. Good Times indeed.

From the reel world to the real world, meetanonymity has been churning out dish after dish, making optimum use of her extended vacation. All of us are more than just envious of her cooking talents, now that she has graduated from muffins to this and this. She is also kindly encouraging of novices to get their hands dirty in the kitchen. So I finally took the plunge today and decided to make pancakes. She provided me with the recipe, which interested people can find here. My first tryst with creating something in the kitchen was not too great. It wasn't extremely bad either. After the second attempt the pancakes were round and I could successfully flip it in the pan. The pancakes were eatable and my dad insisted on eating it with fork and knife. So much for encouraging parents! The batter lacked vanilla essence, as a result it was a little eggy in flavour. But each of us gobbled up two pancakes each, so no major complaints as such. In the evening I learnt to make kahwa -Kashmiri chai sans milk with dry fruits and cardamom.(people who have seen Mission Kashmir will know). Kahwa is a very flavourful chai and it serves as a staple winter drink in Kashmir. Unfortunately I don't have nice photos to share, like meetanonymity usually does.Managing pots and pans was a gargantuan task in itself. Maybe next time I'll have the presence of mind to do both!

I'll share my culinary experiences henceforth under the tag Food Fronicles. And when an unemployed 22 year old is home all day, you can expect the unexpected!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

Stay hungry, Stay foolish ?

2010-12-21T22:12:00.012+05:30

"And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle."- Steve Jobs

There are many people who enjoy reading books written by entrepreneurs, business gurus and self made men. Now, of course there are blogs and twitter feeds to add to their mania. Let's refer to these people as baba bhakts. I however, don't fall into this category of people. Baba bhakts love recommending these books to people like me, citing their works as killer stuff, inspiring, awwwesome and what not. There is one thing about (some of) these baba bhakts that rubs me the wrong way. They go back to doing things the way they have always been doing. They don't do anything differently (at least most of them.) If these people have done whatever brilliant things they've done in their lives and if you are reading about them or staying updated with their lives, shouldn't you imbibe some of their mannerisms? Shouldn't you channel your resources better? Shouldn't you make use of your time better? Shouldn't you take risks? Shouldn't you be bold? Shouldn't you become the baba and not the bhakt?

Unfortunately, I don't see too many of the baba bhakts doing any of these things. Sure there are many constraints and blah blah blah and some more blah blah blah. The reason I haven't read a Richard Branson or a Capt. Gopinath or Donald Trump or XYZ person is because I can't relate to them at any level. I like the concept of tangibility. Something I can see and feel, possibly touch, I will be able to relate to more than reading about these people and their success stories. I wasn't around to see them do any of the things they've done so I can't relate to it. As much as I try, I won't get inspired. Sure, it heightens testosterone or progesterone levels and make any boy or girl go WOW! But unfortunately, it wears off a little to soon. If only we had viagara for the mind eh?

I consider myself lucky to have interacted with some brilliant minds. Seeing them operate up close and personal makes me appreciate what they are doing. These are my real life babas (females too!) and they make me go Wow! I have been inspired and continue to be inspired, seeing them do their thang. It makes me want to do whatever it is that I am doing a bit more seriously. It makes me want to manage my resources better. It makes me want to push my limits. It makes me want to take risks. It makes me want to become a baba. I don't think I'll take their names here. Maybe I can take their permission and write them a testimonial each but I'll reserve that for another time. I have to keep writing for another 22 days! Without giving too much away these entrepreneurs, quizzers,closet writers, (real) engineers,to be entrepreneurs, gourmands and food writers keep me motivated, keep me hungry, keep me wanting more.

Stay hungry, Stay foolish? , the title reads. I heard Steve Jobs' 2005 Stanford Commencement Address a couple of years back. It was in that speech that he used this phrase and it was the first time I heard it. And these four words hit me hard. And they've grown on me since. Although I don't read their books, I am a sucker for good quotes. So does that make me a hypocrite? It doesn't matter. Calling me a hypocrite will get you only so far as Mahim. Anyway, I am at a cross-roads in my yet to have begun professional life (again), and I am going to listen to Steve uncle and Stay Hungry (Foolish I always was!) . For better of for worse!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

The Last Ride

2010-12-20T14:17:00.013+05:30

Amit rode pillion on his father's Bajaj. Holding one bag in the space between them and another bigger suitcase precariously dangling at the side, he was forced to perform a dangerous balancing act. But he had mastered the act over the last three and a half years. This was probably the last time he rode pillion on his father's scooter. He was going back to Sardar Patel Engineering college to attend his last semester. Over the summer break, he had been recruited by a 'dream' company and he believed his father's Bajaj days were over.

That afternoon, before leaving home, he promised his mother that he would return only with a big pay cheque. He would then buy her the gaadi, she had always desired. His mother, a superstitious God fearing lady removed some of the kohl from her eyes and dabbed it behind his ears as he stood up after taking her blessings. Her eyes were moist when he stepped out the door.

The dream job had changed a lot of things for Amit. He was instilled with a positivity and rejuvenated spirit, the emancipated self confidence was reflected in his uncharacteristic smile. It had not been all smooth sailing, however and he reminisced about the ups and downs as his father manouevered the Bajaj through the narrow gullies of the village bazaar. The sweet smell of the jalebis mixed with the putrid odour emanating from the dustbin outside the mithai shop filled his lungs as he took in the sights and sounds of the village. It would be a year at least, before he returned.

Things would be a little different on his return, he thought to himself as people in the crowded street waived out to him wishing him good health and luck. He would have become a saheb, a big person. Already, he was a revered figure in his village; having topped the tenth and twelfth exams and in the next five months he would become the first engineer from his village. Such an event, was a matter of pride not only for his parents but for the entire village. Also, Amit baba's dream job was no secret to the people of the village. As a consequence, he had to sacrifice a lot of his afternoon naps to play the role of mentor and guide to starry eyed parents who wanted their son and daughter to follow in his footsteps. Amit, in exchange for sweets and farsan dispensed with advice and explained to his guests patiently what they needed to do for their children. He felt obligated to the people of his village who had been a constant source of support to his parents through some rather tough times. He wanted to give back to them.

A loud blaring horn suddenly woke him from his trance. But only just. The Howrah-Mumbai Express came to a grinding halt at the level crossing.

Lost in translation.

2010-12-19T21:29:00.007+05:30

Hello readers. Going by yesterday's thanda response, my everyday updates are not finding favour with everyone. If that is not the case, then please start commenting!

I am exhausted today, and considering it is already late, I will not take too much of your time or mine and share a small (and near catastrophic) incident.

I had an exam today. SNAP. Symbiosis National Aptitude something. My centre was IES , Dadar. (or so I thought). For once I was happy I didn't have to go to Vidyavihar or Mankhurd or Andheri East. Dadar. Right next door. IES Dadar, formerly known as King George and still identified by residents of the area as King George is ten minutes away from home. I reached there an hour early as mentioned in the examination guidelines. I met a friend who had come to drop his sister at the venue. I spent a good half hour with him before I decided to go inside and look for my class. In between all this I had noted that I had to go to the first floor, room no 8, Seat no 238. I left him at around 1:25 and sat myself in my place. I did my pre-exam ritual of going to the toilet twice after a 5 minute interval. The invigilator walked in at 1: 40. She went around checking everyone's hall ticket and supplementary identification. In my case, it was my driver's license. No problem. Then after another 5 minutes, a girl walked in and realized her seat was taken. Two people had the same seat number. She was then told, that she had to report to a different block, and she frantically ran away. Why would they issue same seat numbers? After this I happened to look at my hall ticket and tallied it with the person behind me, and then with the person in front. Their centre number was 2101 and mine was 2107! Oh well, me shaana dadar cha mulga was at the wrong IES, Dadar! My center was in Dadar west, and I would take a good 15 minutes to reach there. When did an IES open in Dadar west?! Symbiosis mutation is a cancerous disease, I tell you. If you ask anybody in Dadar about IES they will invariably direct you to where I was. Nonetheless, it was time to panic. But I didn't. I got up and I was directed to the 'Control Room' where I expressed my grievance. I was half hopeful that I would be asked to go to the other centre, where I would be late and I wouldn't have to give the exam! But Symbiosis people were either anticipating a Pratap Kaul to grace them with his stupidity or they had a good crisis management team in place. Either way I was sent to a particular room, where I was greeted by 10 other idiots who had made a similar goof up or were last minute registrations. So I had to give the exam! Damn. The exam was alright, pretty easy. I don't think you'll care about the details so I wont get into those. Nonetheless, it was an interesting event and I'm sure I'll look back and laugh at my idiocy. I'm sure most of you'll are laughing at me too. :) Louder Louder!

Tomorrow's mission: go search for this new IES in Dadar west!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad :P

Voices

2010-12-18T16:30:00.007+05:30

A child enters the world with a full throated cry. In return, he is welcomed by a melee of voices; some heavy with tears, some laden with smiles, but all united in celebrating the arrival of a new life in their midst. The child is quick to discern one voice in particular, a voice that he has been accustomed to for over eighteen weeks. The child does not know what his mother feels like, yet. But he can identify her by her voice and is drawn to her immediately. He knows where to seek comfort. This exemplifies the beauty of the human voice. Needless to say, this is not an abstract concept and it has been backed by medical research; doctors advise expecting parents to talk to their babies four-five months into the pregnancy period. Even History has references alluding to this phenomenon. In the Mahabharata, Abhimanyu, in his mother Subhadra's womb hears his father Arjuna speak about the Chakravyuha-how to enter it, what attacking techniques to use inside and so on, but unfortunately, just as Arjuna was about to explain the exit from the Chakravyuha, he realises that his wife is asleep and stops talking. This proved to be Abhimanyu's undoing when he found himself in an identical situation on the battlefield. On a particualr day, Arjuna and Lord Krishna were waging another battle, and Abhimanyu was the only Pandava to break into the Chakravyuha and take on the Kaurava heavyweights single handedly. He slayed ordinary soldiers and many biggies as well. But he could not break out of it at the right time. Had Arjuna continued speaking, Abhimanyu would not have been a tragic hero and the Mahabharata could have been a different story. Who knows?

Voices.

I have always been fascinated by people in general and their voices in particular. There is something very raw about a person's voice which I find endearing. I believe a person's voice mirrors the person in entirety. The most appealing characteristic of a person's voice is that it cannot be faked. It isn't something you can make beautiful by accessorising. A voice is pure. It defines you. You can't change it, no matter what you do. Like different people have different characteristics, so also do their voices. We studied about pitch, quality and timber in physics. All these contribute to a person's voice and make one voice different from the other. I love it when somebody speaks, and an auditorium full of people sits up in rapt attention or when a person's voice touches a sentimental chord and gives us goosebumps or when a good singer hits a strong note and you want him/her to go on and on or simply when a mother sings a lullaby to her child and he drifts off to dream land. Just listing these things down, puts a smile on my face!

Voices.

Many leaders are good speakers. Fidel Castro, Jawaharlal Nehru, Marin Luther King Jr., Atal Behari Vajpayee, Narendra Modi, Harsha Bhogle, Steve Jobs are all gifted speakers. Apart from having an impeccable understanding of people's psyche and good timing, their voices are a medium of inspiration. Every time I hear Jawaharlal Nehru's speech on India's first Indpendence day or Martin Luther King's 'I have a dream...' speech, I get goosebumps. Then there is Amitabh Bachchan. I have always wanted a voice like his. Strong, baritone, hard-hitting, inspiring, soothing. If there was a perfect voice, I guess his would be it. Also, Morgan Freeman has a voice I am very envious of. I can't imagine The Shawshank Redemption with anybody else's narration. Lata Mangeshkar, Asha Bhosle, Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan, Bhupen Hazarika, Shaan, Mohit Chauhan, AR Rahman, Kavita Krishnamurthy,Sunidhi Chauhan, Bono, Eddie Vedder, David Gilmour, James Hetfield, John Denver, Jack Johnson, Chris Martin, Celine Dion, Mary J Blige, Alicia Keys have made listening to music so much more worthwhile. (I'm sure there are many names I've missed, I'll add them as I remember). I'd also like to mention Jaggu and Tarana here. They made listening to the radio a cool thing. Brilliant voices these two. Then of course there are parents and friends whose voices one can't do without, who over time become a part of our conscience. Every time we picture them in our head we hear their voices.

Voices.

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

(There's a lot more I would have liked to write, and probably would have liked to write it better, but I have an exam tomorrow so please give me some leeway this time around. Tomorrow's post would be late at night, considering the fact that the exam would take a good part of my day. )

Of Failed Marriages, WikiLeaks and Tehelka

2010-12-17T18:51:00.018+05:30

In 2001 Tarun Tejpal led Tehelka came into the limelight with its Operation West End, pushing the limits of investigative journalism. Tehelka, an Urdu word meaning 'tumult' managed to achieve just that with Operation West End. The 'sting' operation, became an overnight phenomenon and exposed corruption in the highest echelons of Indian bureaucracy. Bangaru Laxman, president of the BJP was caught on tape accepting bribes from Tehelka journalist Mathew Samuel who posed as a representative of a bogus arms company West End based in the United Kingdom. Mathew Samuel went on to record around 105 tapes in which top officers from the armed forces as also ministers from the BJP led NDA alliance accepted bribes to see through high level, sensitive defense deals. The Vajpayee government was brought to its knees. George Fernandes, Defense Minister, though, not directly incriminated was forced to step down from office. Parallels were drawn to the BOFORS scandal and Prime Minister Vajpayee was left red faced in the wake of these developments. His image of Mr. Clean was tarnished and questions were raised over the credibility of the government. A dot com media house had almost unseated the Prime Minister of the world's largest (pseudo)Democracy. What followed after that is what we witness again ten years later- a ridiculous and vulgar display of power games by people in high power positions. Tarun Tejpal and Tehelka became Government enemy number 1. Allies of the NDA government threatened to pull out over inaction against the media house. The government had to do something to redeem itself. Court cases were slapped on Tehelka. CBI raids ensued; criminal cases against Tehelka were created out of thin air . Tehelka's financiers were put behind bars. Tarun Tejpal was up against the wall. He issued the following statement when deposing before the Venkataswami Commission instituted by the government to investigate into Tehelka: "Everybody loves us but nobody wants to be associated with us. Not a single rupee has been invested in Tehelka after we broke the story of Operation Westend. Our financiers have been put behind bars. We are served summons by half a dozen a week. We have been harassed by all the government agencies. I have not paid salary to my staff for the past five months."

So much for Right to Freedom of Speech and Expression in the world's largest democracy?

Julian Assange, ~~sex-offender, rapist~~ ,TIME magazine's readers' choice for Person of the Year and his non-profit media organisation WikiLeaks has brought the who's who of the world to its knees. The release of over 91,000 secret dossiers on the Afghanistan war, the support of Pakistani ISI to Afghani Taliban, Iran and North Korea's involvement in assisting the Taliban and numerous such issues related to the war has the US government reeling in its aftereffects. Also the leak of US diplomatic cables(documents basically) describing incidents surrounding international affairs from 274 embassies over almost four decades( between 1966 to 2010) has world powerhouses mulling over its repercussions. The information contained in these cables seeks to expose the truth behind many issues, including discussions over peace settlements in the Middle East, nuclear disarmamant, the War on Terror, US intelligence and counter intelligence, and the US support of dictatorship and so on. In an attempt to cover up their tracks and use diversionary tactics the US government in tandem with its long standing ally, the United Kingdom has arrested Julian Assange on charges of sexually assaulting two Swedish women. As per text book definitions, transparency and democracy are synonymous. However in reality it is anything but that. This loutish exercise of power by guilty representative governments to curb the voice of truth is anything but forgivable. Agreed there may be some sensitive issues, not fit for public consumption. But hiding behind the facade of being righteous and running a cock fight racket behind that is a completely different issue. We can't continue to be taken for granted like this and allow representative governments to violate our rights.

If a wife suspects her husband of infidelity(or vice-versa); she hires a private detective. The private detective monitors the husband's actions for a suitable time period and reverts to his client. Either the wife is a paranoid suspecting woman or her fears are justified, in which case she files for divorce backed by relevant evidence. (photographs, videos, tapped phone conversations, smses, emails and so on). Surely this is a violation of privacy, but does the husband sue his wife for violating his privacy? No.The husband and wife entered into a legal agreement when they got married. Both of them are answerable and accountable for their actions, to each other and before the court of law. So also, is the case with representative governments(Democracies) and the people who elect them. The elected governments who have been conferred 'power' by the people don't have the right to use this power against the people and censor sensitive information which exposes their shortcomings. They are answerable to the people for their actions. They are answerable to people for the Afghan War, Iraq War, Kargil War, CWG scam,2G scam,Adarsh Scam,Defense scndals and another 1000 rackets.

We need heroes like Tarun Tejpal and Julian Assange to check the uncrupulous exploitation of the people,by the Governments for the people. These two accounts just go on to show what the media houses can achieve if they stops clamouring over TRPs. As people that constitute a democracy,we need to ask questions. We need to give up our lax chalta-hai attitude towards most things. We need to Jaago. 'The pen is mightier than the sword.' Never before have I agreed with this more. Kudos to Tarun Tejpal. Kudos to Julian Assange. ( You got my vote for Person of the Year)

Jaago re Jaago junta! Jaago re.

Yours truly,

Hairy Nomad

The Tales of Beedle the Beard

2010-12-16T10:08:00.010+05:30

I once walked into the principal's office during the third year to get some paperwork done. She looked at me and sniggered. She followed that uncharacteristic reaction with a gesture, that suggested that she had a matka on her head and then repeated the same on her face. "What happened to you?", she asked me. The previous day, I had been to the salon for a haircut and a shave. I was a little taken aback, but I could not resist a smile. Inside my head however, it was a different story. An orchestra replete with trumpets,drums, guitars, spearheaded by Freddie Mercury's ghost broke into song "We are the champions my friend..." This was no ordinary accomplishment in my world.The principal of my college identified me by my hair and beard. Wow!

There have been a lot of theories centered around my facial hair. Some friends strongly believe that my performance on the football field is inversely proportional to the amount of facial hair I have. I have been referred to as Samson by more than two different sets of friends.(Though technically Samson was clean shaven!) On days when I venture out to appear in social circles with a clean face, I have been welcomed with a thousand laughs and blunt remarks about how gay I look. All said and done I take pride in the fact that I am identified by my beard! And I am very smug about it. Many people have asked me about my beard, and I sit them down and narrate to them The Tales of Beedle the Beard which goes something like this ...

My fascination with beards began at a young age. Ever since I can remember, people with facial hair amazed me. I had seen photographs of my father and uncle with full grown beards, and I was instantly drawn to their facial hair. My father and uncle are intelligent people, I must add. Then there was Prannoy Roy, news reader on Doordarshan who had a full grown beard. His demeanour emanated intelligence, and it appeared to stem from his facial hair. When he spoke, everybody listened. I did not understand a word coming out of his mouth, but I sat there quietly listening to the wise man speak. So as a toddler when we were putting two and two together I concluded that intelligence is synonymous with a beard. This belief was only bolstered by portrayals of famous people in movies and History text books. I saw the The Ten Commandments at round about the same time and the image of Moses with his free flowing white beard holding up the Ten Commandments on Mount Sinai is still fresh in my mind. Moses, bearded man who delivered so many people from evil non bearded kings, for whom even God parted the Red Sea, became the epitome of righteousness and goodness. So in turn bearded men became righteous and good! Needless to say, History was my favourite subject in school. We had these nice illustrated text books upto the fifth standard. And before we moved on to contemporary history of the world and India we studied the story of individuals. King Solomon the Wise, King Nebuchadnezzar were wise and just kings and they sported full beards. So also did Socrates-philosopher and thinker. These small images in the text books supported by prolific descriptions of the people mentioned furthered my belief in the power of the beard. Then came along Vasco da Gama and Marco Polo, wanderers and explorers who became the hallmark of adventure. Guess what, they had beards too! Chuck Norris, action hero. Beard. Check. Russell Crowe, one one of my all time favourite actors immortalised the concept of a macho man in his role as Gladiator. His beard in real life too, sets him apart from everybody. My hero! * starry eyed* .I can go on and on listing names of eminent people who have facial hair to justify my point. Rabindranath Tagore, literary master and Che Guevara are two last people I'd like to mention.

So when I sprouted my first stock of facial hair, in the 7th standard or so, I was jubilant. Ecstatic. I started dreaming about that perfect beard and how that would endow me with intelligence or righteousness or the spirit of adventure or machismo or creativity. Well, I am living the dream for now and loving it. Whether or not I possess any of these things doesn't matter. I'd get there eventually. Why you ask? I have a beard! What do you have? :P

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

For those who want to read about the Beard: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Beard

(p.s: this post might have been a little narcissistic, I don't know. I hope not. But I shall write on an objective topic tomorrow!)

iScottishite

2010-12-15T17:05:00.001+05:30

There is this particular essay which I started writing two years back and I still can't complete it. The incomplete post stares at me glaringly each time I sign in to Blogger. This post is about my school, Bombay Scottish. I find it very difficult to give words to my feelings and memories about school which is what I tried to do there.

I write this particular post in a different light. Although a liberally used cliche, you can take a Scottishite out of Scottish, but you can't take the Scottish out of the Scottishite. There are a lot of things that being a Scottishite entails and many of those have lost meaning over the years for Scottishites of the Hannah Montana and Justin Bieber era and that is very disappointing to see. From a personal standpoint, Scottish is my core. Scottish has made me who I am today. All the good there is in me, it is because of my upbringing at Scottish.

What started off as a female orphanage by Scottish missionaries is today, one of the best schools in the country.(If Outlook, India Today, Week magazine surveys are to be believed) It is also one of the oldest, if not the oldest schools in the country, and this is something I always love ranting about to my non Scottish friends. Apart from having half the movie industry as alumni, Manvendra Singh Gohil, the first 'King' to come out of the closet also has his roots in Scottish. You can read more about the History of the school here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombay_Scottish_School,_Mahim. This small introduction was to give people an overview about Bombay Scottish School, Mahim and for those who are actually interested, the Wikipedia article should be more than a comprehensive account.

Moving on to the story in between the lines. What the term iScottishite means to me. I joined Scottish in the Jr. Kg itself and I have a faint recollection of my interview with Mr. Mark David, our then principal. I was asked my name, at some point during the interview I crawled under his table, and was let off in the end with a lolly-pop or a toffee. I did not get admission right away and was put on a waiting list of sorts. In the mean time I joined another school, but that was just for a couple of days. My parents got a call and I secured admission to Bombay Scottish. The rest they say is my-story.

Mr. David was a man of stoic countenance. Very little seemed to perturb him and he barely smiled. He was a strict disciplinarian and he had a ubiquitous presence. He was the stereotype principal who walked corridors and send shivers down students' spines. However, he commanded immense respect in teachers and students alike. For me personally, he was the hallmark of Bombay Scottish School, Mahim. He was a man who had the guts to ask Amitabh Bachan to remove his children from school because he could not tolerate their absence from school for delayed periods. I looked upto him from a young age. I still do. Then in the fifth standard, the school trust decided to start a new school at Powai, and Mr. David was the default choice as Principal to take the new school ahead. So he had to shift base and in came in Rev. Arun Thomas, who stayed for only a year, and brought with him 'kindness' and 'sycophancy' and his only contribution as a principal was a 'Coke Vending Machine'. Why would school children need that? Scottish's downfall had begun. And to take us tumbling down the mountain came in Mr. DPN Prasad, supposedly an ex-Army man. But he belonged to the 'Adarsh Society scam' cadre of army men. I think my point comes across. I will not indulge in DPN bashing, and lend a bad flavour to the post. But, all I'll say is Scottish wasn't Scottish anymore. Scottish went from being a school that prided itself in its discipline and humbleness to being a Page 3 phenomenon. With it came the Bombay 'Snobbish' tag that most Scottishites have to now live with.

About the Snobbish tag associated with Scottishites in particular and ICSE students in general; I believe it is a tad harsh and it is often easy for non ICSE people to do that and ostracize them from their circles. This is not to say that ICSE circles are tolerant and welcoming of non ICSE junta but once they come out into the real world,they have no option but to shed their pseudo-superior avatars and give up their americanised gujju and punju accents. There are still some who latch on to that pseudo-superiority for dear life, but sooner or later life or an SSC Goliath gives them a reality check and they are forced to give in. I have always been a fence sitter, when it comes to the ICSE superiority because the environment I grew up in outside school was in complete contrast to the one in school. I played a lot of sports and got the chance to interact with non ICSE people who were very much like my ICSE friends, many of them smarter and more well read than most of my school mates, so that attitude of picking and choosing ICSE friends wherever you went post school never happened. I learnt from my ICSE and non ICSE friends never to judge a book by its cover. It is harsh to judge somebody without giving yourself the chance to get to know them. Most of my better friends are from non ICSE backgrounds and they are fully equipped to crush many an ICSE ego.

Coming to the teachers who made me what I am. There were some who despised me, but there were more who loved me and really looked out for me. They pulled my ears, they spanked me on my behind, punched me in the stomach and did what they had to, each time they felt I was losing semblance of right and wrong. And I really appreciate them for having done that. Of course things don't happen that way at Scottish anymore. Last I heard Page 3 parents are completely intolerant of physical action used by teachers and have taken legal action against some of them. A little nonsensical if you ask me. Most of my teachers have now left school. I can't imagine Scottish being the same without them. If I were to name my favourite teachers and how they have influenced me, it would run into another two pages so I'll leave that for a different post.

At the beginning I mentioned that Scottish forms my core; I mean this: 'Perseverentia et fide in Deo' (Latin) which translates to- Perseverance and Faith in God - the school motto is what drives me even today. It is an all encompassing mantra and it is how I live life. I don't happen to be gifted with unmatched intelligence or skill, so I just go about working and keep faith that work yields results, in direct proportion I must add. It is safe to say that it has worked for me for most of my life and it is something many of you should try out as well. Sure, it is just a fancy Latin phrase for the principle of karma - 'Karm kar, fal ki chinta mat kar...' but it has done more than just inspire Scottishites everywhere. Like I said you can take a Scottishite out of Scottish, but you can't take Scottish out of the Scottishite.

Thank you BSS for everything, Thank you for making me me.

Someday I'll make it to the Wikipedia page !

So with this iScottishite give to you my 2nd post for the month.

Cheers,

Hairy Nomad

A Blog-post a Day

2010-12-14T17:51:00.002+05:30

70 odd posts over 4 years is more than just ridiculous. It reflects my attitude towards other things in life as well. Callous. Indifferent. Idiotic.

I think it is time to take the bull by its horns and breathe some life into this place. And for a change I mean it this time. So starting today for the next one month, I will be putting up one blog-post everyday. I will try and write on myriad topics, and finish those umpteen drafts that stare at me every time I sign into my Dashboard. As it turns out, we engineers need goals to keep us motivated. So this is my target-30 blogposts over the next one month period. The reason I wish to do this is two fold. I wish to take up writing a bit more seriously in life, it is now high time to hone my writing abilities. And for 2 imminent entrance exams, we shall be tested on our writing skills. So I wish to get my act together before I sit for those.

How you can help me achieve this target. Be kind enough to take 5 minutes of your time everyday, read what I've written and comment. And should I not update on a given day, give me HELL!

So this was me explaining my agenda to you. This is blog post no 1.

Blog post 2 onwards will be more elaborate and meaningful.

Yours truly,

Hairy Nomad

Hey, I've put some new shoes on!

2010-10-20T12:00:00.006+05:30

It is the first time, since I've started blogging, that I've made cosmetic changes to this little virtual space that I own. Why I did it? Frankly, it was for lack of better things to do. I've been creatively inert for a prolonged period of time, and I'm not referring to this virtual property alone. Overall, there is very little that my brain has been upto. My day essentially involves reading tables and pie charts and seating inu , minu, bittu, chotu, bubli and pinky around a table or reading about how ugly Socrates was and then answer questions that read like India TV poll questions. "In your opinion what is the secret behind Socrates' wrinkle free belly? "

a. Red Wine and Corsets

b. Khadi

c. Both (a) and (b)

d. All of the above

I seriously need to get those creative juices flowing again or I'll end up with a wrinkle free Socrates' belly myself. I don't know if I had them in the very first place though. Yes, my brain has also been nurturing an LOD-3 Amnesia.

Anyhow, one thing four years of Engineering has taught me is to manipulate, and with Google uncle on the side, manipulating HTML code to make this place look like this, becomes a possibility for even a ridiculous engineer like myself. So cheers to Google uncle, who makes life for an engineer and their pseudo MTech and ME professors possible.

Oh, something else I've been upto that I could not achieve in four years of Engineering. I am writing a technical paper titled: " How to take credit for work you never did, featuring professors of T. Q. J. U" (Ssssshh, code language.Don't squeal okay.) It will be published at the JFFF Professorsarejackasses Conference, Mahim, India on November 26.

Anyhow, coming back to the makeover, the image behind is one of my own, and if you see closely it shows the sun peeping out from the dark rain clouds. (It is pretty evident in the orignal image) For those who expect some 'deeper' meaning behind Pratap's image selection, spare your brain the work and SMS me the answer to the Socrates' question on 57iamanidiot755757575.

I just like the image, that is why it is there. End of Story. However, I have tried to retain the green and orange colours from my previous avatar to lend a familiar flavour, and luckily I've managed pull it off. I like it. *Pats himself*

Yes, that is something I have been asked to do too. Pat myself. Toot my own horn. Certain business schools want to see how well we sell our souls to them, and have asked us to write in 150 words how versatile we are and what big achievements we've managed to accomplish in our life, for eg.Playing Ranji trophy circket alongside engineering can be counted as an outstanding achievement.

Dear Business School uncles, I gave my blog a makeover. * Puts tie in place, adjusts parker pen in front pocket with the spear facing interview panel, shows teeth* Now give me admission no. Will you?

One last thing, I am off facebook till further notice, so do me a favour and help me pimp this crib,will you. Pleajh pretty pleajh. I will give you a *free* makeover at the Pratap Studios. . Pinky swear :)

Oh well never mind!

Cheers!

(the few of you who will actually end up reading this, do let me know if the new look is any good...)

p.s: I have updated my blogroll as well to include Shrilata, Uttara, Cinjal and Abhishek

Things as we knew it... Over?

2010-10-07T15:40:00.005+05:30

There comes a point in one's life, when everything seems amiss,everything seems out of place. Things as they were versus things as they are versus things as they will be/should be are things I wish I could understand and answer, to get by everyday. I believe that only when one actually finds oneself in a particular situation, can one really understand what is happening. No amount of preparation and foresight will help. For instance no preparation nor foresight can help you when you are giving birth to your first child or falling in love with someone or attending the funeral of your parents or everyday things like graduating out of college ...

Graduating out of college has rendered me homeless in a way. For the last four years I have spent more time in college than I have at home. It was HOME. No home away from home cliches. It was HOME. It was Family. It was everything. It stings as I use the past tense here. But to have all of this taken away from you in the blink of an eye leaves someone like me still reeling from its after effects. The family has disintegrated or maybe I have disintegrated from the family, I don't quite know yet. Wise people tell me to stop living in the past, but I have always loved History, so it is something I find myself incapable of doing. Yes, I am aware that no good will come out of it, it will not help me land a job, it will not help me get into an MBA college, it will not make my parents happy, it will not make anybody happy. But what about the things that mak(d)e me happy eh? Yes, I know I am foolish to even pose a rhetoric question which, not surprisingly has no direct answer. These things that I am referring to are no longer a part of my life equation, they've managed to teleport to different places and different timezones, so much so that even though some of these things happen to be in the same city, it now feels like we are separated by invisible borders.

Some of these elements find themselves in Amrika, studying primarily, but simultaneously getting the chance to work with astronauts, to cook their own food, to wash their own underpants, (and hopefully not keeping them on other people's pillows to dry.) and what not. Others find themselves behind a nice laminated sun-mica desk in Ahmedabad or Mysuru or Powai or Chakala or Pune, learning Information Technology and Powerpoint. Others continue to trudge on through the bitter sweet rigours of college life. And one of them continues to be in college cause he wants to, contrary to what he might say. I, on the other hand made the choice to do none of these things, out of arrogance or cockiness more than out of rational calculated thinking. And now, I find myself pretty much alone. This dream that I convinced myself I was chasing is falling apart, quite literally, cause I don't have these other pieces in my life anymore. It made sense then because everything else was in place. Now their presence is replaced by this huge vacuum and I am having trouble getting out of it. Maybe this dream was all a figment of my imagination like everything else. I think I could easily pass off as Tyler Durden, or maybe that would be wishful thinking too.

Being, a history person who latches on to the past, I don't know what lies ahead. Time will tell. Whether things will fall in place again, time will tell. Whether my gambles will pay off, time will tell. Whether life will kick me on my behind harder than it already is, time will tell. But one thing that I can tell, is if I were to get these things back, I will be happy. Maybe I won't get these things back and I am deluding myself. But a different genre of wise-men say that History repeats itself , so I will cling onto that glimmer of hope. For better or for worse.

Assignments can be fun too ...

2010-07-28T13:26:00.015+05:30

Yes, Assignments can be fun too. This realization dawned on me this past Saturday in the most unusual place - a playground. And not just any playground, the biggest playground in Mumbai, ' The theater of dreams' for every starry eyed footballer donning his school jersey - Azad Maidan (MSSA-Mumbai School Sports Association, for the ignoramus)

Azad Maidan, MSSA has been a platform akin to a Mood-I for performing bands. It has instilled that passion of sportsmanship and competition in most school boys (and girls) for more than 114 years now. And not surprisingly, the quintessential do-gooders of our country, the TATAs, Dorabji Tata in this case had a major role to play in its inception! ;-)

Anyhow, it is the proverbial gladiator's arena or Kurukshetra for toddlers and teenagers in Bombay who aspire from a young age to represent their school at Azad Maidan. I say so because I come from a school where sports, especially football is a BIG deal. Unfortunately,I never represented my school on the sacrosanct mitti of Azad Maidan, but I have had some memorable experiences at the tennis courts right next to it. Nonetheless, I was always a part of the football team entourage that included parents, PT teachers and coach. So I know what inter-school football mania can be like! I will reserve that description for now though.

Coming back to my assignment. As a part of a photography course that I have enrolled myself in, I have to capture 'Bombay Monsoon' in all its glory. A difficult thing to do, since there are so many things synonymous with Bombay Monsoons- Umbrella couples on Marine drive, bhutta at Juh beach, flooded roads of Parel and Lalbaug, menacing clouds in the skies, kanda bhaji and chai at a roadside tapri, and the list can go on. I can always capture any of these moments-Umbrellas aren't going anywhere, the umbrella couples have nowhere else to go, Marine drive is going to serve them forever, so also are the bhutta walas and bhaji vendors.

So, I decided to go back in time, happier times I must add when a heavy Bombay shower meant just one thing- Play-ground!

It was raining cats and dogs this last Saturday, heaviest rains in Bombay this season. But that wasn't going to deter a monsoon lover on a well defined mission! Armed with my 750g weapon, my Sony H-5 camera which has been a constant companion for the last 4 years and a walking stick wala umbrella I made my way to the Mecca of Bombay school football. And apart from the overwhelming fun element involved,I was looking forward to experimenting with sports(or motion) photography, something I had never tried my hand at. I crossed the Metro cinema (now Metro Adlabs) junction, giving the subway a miss, onto Mahapalika Marg. And as I entered the familiar green gates of MSSA onto the field, I was overwhelmed with memories and a broad smile was an involuntary response. I set to work right away, balancing my camera in one hand and the big umbrella in the other. There was already a game underway. It was an under-14 match between Maneckji Cooper and Cambridge School. I was a little skeptical initially, and I did not know how to go about my business. I blended in soon enough though, and silently made my way from one part of the field to the other to capture some nice shots.

I put into action, lessons learnt in the classroom and played around with many settings trying to get the hang of capturing people in motion. The brilliant thing about photography, which makes it such a satisfying interest, is that rules are meant to be broken, and the photographer like an artist can express himself in any way he pleases.

I got a good number of pictures by the time the game got over. Maneckji Cooper gave up a 3-0 first half lead, but hung on eventually to win 3-2 in what was a closely contested game. This tall dude from Maneckji netted all 3 goals for his team. I was contemplating heading to a different place to continue my monsoon expedition. But then in the distance I saw the familiar 'blues and whites'. *Sound the trumpet* Could it be Scottish? Could it be? I ran up to the entrance to confirm, and it sure as hell was a Scottish team donning the blue and white Argentina jerseys. The chills down my spine coupled with the goosebumps, could have given me an epileptic attack. I smiled like I hadn't in a long long time!

I met Anthony sir, who has been the right hand of Kenkre sir who changed the face of Scottish football when he took over the reigns when we were Under-14 ers, that is almost ten years back. He vaguely remembered me. (atleast I like to believe he did!) It felt super cool to speak to him and catch up. He told me that the team there was an U-14 'B' team* and it was their first match of the season. They were playing against Our Lady of Salvation. Big occasion for the young lads! As the referee blew the whistle, the team gathered in a circle for the pre-match ritual which includes the announcement of the starting eleven, a pep talk, followed by 'Our father in heaven'. Hearing the lord's prayer, I was transported back in time and it is hard to give words to those feelings. I bowed my head and joined in. I was happy. I was smiling and laughing like a school boy. I felt good.

As the teams took to the field, I got into the position and couldn't control myself with 'Go Scottish' chants. The Scottish team had 3-4 players who were barely 4 feet tall. Yet they were super-quick and had great ball control. The game was a closely fought one, and the heavy rains added to the fun. The game was won by a stunning 20 yard volley from no 15. 'Vir' with two minutes to go. He sprinted across the field with his arms raised to celebrate with his team. What a sight it was! :) As the final whistle blew, the stands(parents of the players and me :P ) erupted with Scottish chants and hoorahs. I packed up my camera, thoroughly satisfied and ready to leave, when I saw Shampoo. Things couldn't get any better. Shampoo! by the way is our PT sir from school and was a coach before Kenkre sir took over. And we have bullied him a lot in our time, and gotten the same treatment in return but he is always associated with fun times. Aah! I spoke to him for half an hour, catching up on old times and on people. I felt like I was back in school. I told him that I will come back for another game and left. The boys made their way to the school bus about the same time as I left and were humming a cool song (We are the titans type) which wasn't there during our times.

I looked around one last time at the school bus and the green gates as I made my way across the road to Xavier's college for an evening lecture. I now needed time to recuperate from this high! I couldn't stop smiling for the entire day. And jotting these things down make me smile some more :)

Saturday 24th July is going to be etched in my memory forever! And for those of you who are interested in seeing the pictures, I'll put them up on Facebook soon.

So now you see how assignments can be fun, my dear engineering friends :P

Cheers!

(* - Some schools enter two teams in the same age group. So, generally the better team is team A and the other team is team B.

PS : I kind of missed out one detail intentionally, but I'll include it in the PS note. The MSSA officials thought I was a journalist and I was offered free chai ! The good life it is I tell you :P )

Back with a Bang!

2010-07-16T23:19:00.006+05:30

... Or something like it. Well I am not really 'back with a bang', but I think it is high time I breathe some air into a dying virtual space. I miss college already. I am still a little clueless about where I am going, but things are looking up. I am doing things that I want to do or have wanted to do for a while, so that can't be too bad. Even if it doesn't help me beef up that resume of mine, I don't mind taking that chance.

Anyhow, here are some words to live by.(especially for all the non conformists as Mr. Kulkarni puts it) Here is a small verse from the pen of one of my all time favourite writers, Bond, Ruskin Bond. No big metaphors, simple words packing a big punch!

Dare to Dream

Build castles in the air

But first, give them foundations.

Hold fast to all your dreams,

Make perfect your creations.

All glory comes to those who dare

Failed works are sad lame things

Act impeccably, sing

Your own song, but do not take

Another's song from her or him;

Look for your art within,

You'll find your own true gift,

For you are special too.

And if you try, you'll find

There's nothing you can't do.

Dreaming is a good thing non-comformist junta. Don't let people take that away from you. And in my rather short stint with the seventh floor uncles, one of them had something quite profound to tell me, and here it is : "You need half a brain and two balls to get to where you want to be"

He couldn't have put it in a more subtle way :)

And if you need more fuel to fire your dreams, here are a few lines from the movie Udaan.

Ik udaan kab talak yun kaid rahegi
Roko na chod do isse
Ik udaan hi sapno ko zindagi degi

Sapno se jod do isse.

Words to live by!

More to come soon. Watch this space. Tell your folks about it too. The nomad is back in town!

Cheers!

Some things money can't buy :)

2010-03-17T23:06:00.004+05:30

Mastercard's long running Priceless campaign is by far the best advertising campaign I have come across. If you are expecting me to rant about advertising and brilliant ads, I am not. If you are expecting me to rant about college, I am not. If you are expecting me to rant about life, I am not. If you are expecting me to rant about football, I am not. If you are calling me a hypocrite for ranting away right now, I will stop.

For a long time, I had been wondering what to do to/of my blog; for a long time until today(today was 3 weeks back). I must add that introspection is the flavour of the month for us, BE people. A lot of time is spent in talking about what it is that we want to do post the MBA, MS mayhem. Questions range from "Why is it that all of us are doing what we are doing?", "Is this what we really want to do?", "How to fight the system?", "How to make a difference?", "How to change the world?" ...

Well I take part in all these discussions, but neither am I an Amrika bound pappu, nor am I a studious MBA champu.(No offence to any of my friends :P) So when these people speak, I got to respect them because they have a blueprint of what lies ahead of them post July, 2010.(I agree that their higher education prospects, as of today, are still nebulous, but it is only a matter of time before the fog clears out. And I pray it happens soon!) Credibility is the word. It is my opinion that credibility, in today's big bad world is a necessity and it doesn't come easy. We need to become somebody to be heard, to be seen, to be followed, to become credible. And in this respect my peers, who have chalked out a path for their future, albeit not a very clear one yet are a couple of laps ahead of me.

I would like to bust another myth. I don't enjoy playing down my strengths or indulging in self character assassination, contrary to what my friends think. When I say " I don't know what I will do post engineering" , I actually don't know. So that doesn't necessarily make a rebel. Being a rebel without a clue isn't really cool in a competitive environment of a hundred million youngsters and I think everyone should acknowledge that fact. Rebelling and going against what's wrong, the innumerable follies of our society with a purpose, being 'a man on a mission' would indeed be a cool thing to do. However, getting there is a big ask and that's where the entire credibility aspect becomes even more important.

So what does all this have to do with my blog, would be the lingering question 3 paragraphs into another pratap kaul rant. My class, BE EXTC batch of 2006-2010, S.P.I.T has helped me give much needed direction to an otherwise dying virtual space. I will stop talking in riddles and (finally) come straight to the point. We organised 2 cleanliness drives, one at Juhu beach, the other at Andheri station, spent a day at an ashram for old women and less fortunate children on International Women's day, we are working towards setting up a trust fund for children at the municipal school behind Vrindavan and are planning on doing a lot more. What instigated these series of events is a little difficult to explain here, but I can say that this show of 'Unity' by a group of strong driven individuals has led me to believe that to walk the walk you need to talk the talk, cause if you don't talk the talk, there isn't much scope to do the walking bit. I didn't quite like the fact that my blog had become a mental gutter of sorts. Apart from the photos I put up, on and off, I wasn't really making much sense, and I didn't quite like where I was headed with meaningless posts. It was a mirror of how meaningless my life had become. And if I may say so, kind readers who praise blindly add to the meaningless-ness of my writing. But then WE did all these things and my blog has found a reason to breathe again.

So, I like to thank everybody from class who decided to be a part of a movement, and more than anything else showed ourselves, that we can do it if we choose to . And I like to thank them for giving me a reason to write something new, something a little more meaningful than what I would normally written in a random update. So thank you Ann, Pratiksha, Taha, Omkar, Abhijeet, Gurtej, Anand, Gaurav Dobhal, Sanket, Vivek, Ameya, Chandan, Sumit,Vinayak, Hitesh, Rupesh, Ashwathi, Noopur, Snehali, Ojas , ' The White Birgade' :)

Cheers!

(p.s: Please forgive me if I have forgotten to mention some body.

p.p.s: Congratulations to the GRE junta, all of whom who have now secured a seat in atleast one university!)

Aye Aye Haga !

2010-01-05T20:16:00.007+05:30

31st evening was spent at Versova beach (or the cleaner Versova beach as people like to call it). I had carried my camera along, just in case...

Unfortunately my camera was hogged by a friend who went trigger happy, and it was difficult to get it back from him. I must add that he clicked some mighty nice pictures. I won't be putting up his pictures and take credit for it, though there are plenty that I would have liked to have clicked myself.

However, I did manage to take a few pictures of my own and one particular picture sums up how one should 'let go' of the last year in style! And for all you metaphor people, there is plenty of 'substance' in the picture to get your grey cells working :)

The Revenge of the Cake :)

2010-01-01T20:11:00.004+05:30

I think 1st January,2010 goes down in history as one of the most memorable days for the BE-EXTC class of 2010, as also a breakthrough in catering to the needs of a cake deprived country.

Today was THE day everyone else got their share of cake.(Finally!)

Today was THE day Badri ate THE last piece of Cake :)

The rest they say is history.

Happy New Year to everyone :)

Here's to new beginnings...

Cheers!

Ramblings

2009-12-09T20:20:00.004+05:30

I want to be a child again. No engineering. No responsibilities. No obligations. No prejudices. No compulsions. No monotony. No expectations. Nothing.

You just get to BE. No pun intended.

Some random photos of children. Sanguine.

Good luck to all engineers working the clock. Still a long time before it's all over!

Limerickin' for life's sake

2009-11-18T08:17:00.006+05:30

I've given up on writing meaningful posts. Or maybe I was never capable of writing them in the first place. Or maybe I am just suffering from a severe complex as closet poets and writers continue to amaze me with some really good works. Either way Limericking is something no one can take away from me :P

There was once a boy named Swinburn

He dreamt of building a monster contraption

Bhangale, Gaurav, Nikhil, Ankit and the remaining six

For 60 hours they did not shit or sleep, leaving everyone in a fix

Crowd's cheers and appreciation meant only one thing-they were the stars of Nirmaan

_______ X________

There was a bored man

He liked sitting under the fan

The last hairs on his head stood tall

He went to a lady with a crystal ball

She said he was a descendant of the Ku-klux clan

_______ X________

The boy down the street stole a mango

He strutted down the street like the cowboy in Django

Lust and desire gleaming from his eyes

He went to Mc Donalds and picked up french fries

The idiot wouldn't go to bed, after all it takes two to tango

_______ X________

The dhobi's wife wore a blue saree

She cooked world famous gajjar ka halwa in godrej tomato puree

Babloo, her offspring had just one thing on his mind

Getting intimate with his neighbour's daughter,oh, she was so kind

As he tried, he got an injection on his butt, she was afterall the ghost of Madam Curie

_______ X________

The entire kingdom of Babylon lay in mourning

Pratap Kaul was their newly anointed King

About his subjects he didn't give a fuck

Throughout his life he never killed a duck

The madman persecuted all those who wore a wedding ring :P

_______ X________

Rishkul da is a mighty intelligent chap

If you don't give him logic and reason, be sure he'll snap

He is simple and humble and hardly ever mumbles,

But when he does, everyone laughs and tumbles

I'm pretty sure when he gets a dog, he'll name it NMAP (technical joke :P. For those who don't get the joke try engineering while you are alive!)

_______ X________

Hitesh is a handsome young boy from Udaipur

His heart lies with a girl in Jodhpur

At Jaisalmer their wedding date was set

Jaipur, was the town where they first met

He can't wait to get her into bed in Jaunpur

_______ X________

There we are done for now. Disclaimer: Any resemblance to any living person is totally incidental and intentional :)

Peace

An Update

2009-10-27T22:06:00.003+05:30

Passing this semester seems a long shot :)

Irony is a beautiful concept :)

Limericking is still the way to while time :)

I hope SO(A)Ping helps me earn good karma :)

Passing this semester still seems a long shot :)