A month in Mumbai

It has been long since I put pen to paper metaphorically, and wrote something. My experiences at the workplace were so unique, co-created and personalized that I hardly found anything different to think or ponder upon every second moment. Thoughts of all things I ever did or wished to do started to converge at such a rapid and random pace that I feared it was time for the second big bang. But as my shirt had read every second day in college, change was inevitable. And Mumbai was it.

My apartment on the sixteenth floor is just the right place for almost anything. When I first stepped inside, it wasn’t as much a feeling of grandeur as it was of a calm, a sense of stillness, starkly different from the pace of things that Mumbai is known for. The silhouette at my window is exemplar of the enigma, the passion, and the strange attraction that Mumbai is. Lit buildings, signboards, orange streetlights, a railway track, the dark sky, the grey sea and the sprawling sea-link present an amazing portrait of this amazing city. The first thing I observed was that there are a little less than infinite number of people here. And they come in all sizes, shapes and varieties.

The best thing is, I have lot of friends here, whom I already know since long- to meet up and go out with. Its good for a guy like me who is generally very crookedly opinionated about people. Its like being a choosy beggar! Amit was here for this weekend. He said he had some GRE work, but I bet he just wanted to send another e-mail to the same female! :P We didn’t do much. Spent most of the time at home, talking and discussing how the whole world is in wrong hands. Amazingly. in college, our eyes didn’t go beyond a cheek-whiskered fair chunk by the name Mohota. The last few days were real fun. It was like your girlfriend’s sister treating you!
People generally don’t change with time. Some case study topics to prove this:

1. Akshay couldn’t find a place to meet in the whole city, other than Hiranandani Gardens, Powai.
2. Rocky was smart to avoid the rush and get down from the local train at the wrong (?) side.
3. Sushant slept and snored during a Avatar show worth 280.

and..

4. Amit ko raat ko garmi hui. To usne apni sone ki chain nikal ke fenk di!

Now this is what I am used to. Nothing less!

Costa Coffee, IGI. Delhi 37.

Finally some time to write! Its 5 in the morning at the Delhi airport and the first thing I notice is.. its still raining chicks! After a hundred years of solitude at depressing places like Rudrapur, Pantnagar and in the bus commuting between the two, I was what the spiritualists call a Sensitive Subject! I had reached that depth of gloom and bodily discomfort when a sudden smile from a Japanese girl next to you at the coffee kiosk or a heavenly thank you from the girl at the check-in row, has all the effect of a strong liquor and good news administered simultaneously, warming the blood and comforting the soul. Its like this world has very generally transformed from a bleak desert to a land flowing with milk and honey.

I am the only one amonst people I can relate to at my workplace who managed to get an official leave. The feeling was better than even cleaning Sultan Singh Bisht at the Dalvi encounter. After an eternity of numbness at the plant, a couple of weeks without ends and Ramsay schedules there was finally something for me to look up to. Nervous and imaginative that I always was, atleast as my friends know me, has in some respect undergone a Darwinian transformation. A subtle flaw in my character was that though I was kind hearted enough in most respects, I listened with a regrettable feeling of impatience and irritation to the confessions of those less happily situated on the altars of maturity and general expected intelligence. I believed, it was their responsibility and my right, that they reserve such conversations for the ear of those like them. But now, I have the nerve to imagine myself to be a punching bag to work peoples' bad temper off. I generally can stand it when mr bubblejit (I dont use capitals for men like him!) can dare to suppose that he has the immortal spirit to nag and bully me, whenever his suicidal way of working lands him in the ring with a handicapped cage match coming his way.

And here I am, at a place with neatly dressed people in shades other than blue and white and gawd.. I am happy for a change. I am being miraculously intutive and accepting the easier explanation that all my friends would be waiting to meet me just the way I am. And this thought, coming on top of a prolonged mood of despair and general dissatisfaction with everything mundane, is acting on me like some powerful chemical (dot 3 brake oil you make assume :P). There is a lot to be said in excuse for this impatience but even if people arent excited enough to see me, Il surely make things happen in these 4 n aa haaf days to come! Ok. Ill do something else now.

The Moment of Truth!

I: Working on a PC in our plant office that exactly resembles our Theory of Machines lab at VNIT. I have just walked almost over 3 miles to return some flask to some meagerly important person here. I feel the sweat on my legs as they shiver with spasm. They ache all the time and I seriously fear, I have polio or some major limb dysfunction. My learning: When you dont know whats going on, walk fast, have an angry-man expression, glance left-right and to top it, wipe off something from your forehead with a gasp.

Paro: Donning a slick helmet, at the Underbody line flashing ECU vehicle calibration numbers and eagerly waiting for someone to join him there in the hideout for a ‘bakar session’.

Ankur: With his ‘Icchadhari Naag’ –gray-eyes-bulged-out-look, smile suppressed and with a few History cards in his hand,rubbing his ass out at the quality inspection line, to prove that he deserves more appreciation that Vishal.

Shrish: Resting somewhere and studying things that don’t even deserve a glance, or, roaming all around the place with a visible hope to catch hold of a chick or something similar. :p

Abhigyan: Spreading the yoopee charm at the Underbody line, making new friends and honing his oration and netagiri skills. He repairs things once in a while for a change. By the way, Abhigyan believes in 'smart work rather than hard work'. The fact that he spends half of his day trying to tell this to us is an altogether different issue! :p

Dhruval: Busy disciplining operators at his line and shedding some light on vital things like responsibility, work ethics, bread-butter and neck exercise. Vaada Hai: Yess Sirr!

Siya: Welding his tongue for a longer, deeper and more stimulating- ‘Kyaaaa bbe!’

Vishal: Gearing up to warm the General Manager’s chair with a vibe that would put even Shahrukh Khan to shame.

Tanay: Auditing stations. In reality, searching for milk, fruits and a place to stand on his hands.

Piyush: Enjoying the tranquility of welding with heavy remembrances of the homely, read- spooky place called Sai Vihar. Some others with him are being pressed and welded.

Abin and Ajay: Discussing the colors of walls and curtains for their new house. Ajay these days flaunts a – ‘Mai Kaun hoon? Mai yaha kaise aaya?’ look in a futile attempt to evade bewilderness.

The Sridevi and her Pantnagar Army: Akkchielley…llikke… going somewhere…reaching nowhere!

P.S.: The thing for which I get paid is as worthless as this post!

It doesn’t get more Mechanical than this!

This is a morning of the 29th day of August in the year 2009. I finally remember dates. I sit behind a study table like one I have never seen- clean, not amply filled and, as it should be. The big glass sealed window to my side shows the frayed tops of rusted factories and godowns across the street (it didn’t qualify to be termed as a road), and the charm of the area- a desi daru theka! The walls there read: In red: Masti Hai- Cheeled Beeyar ki dukan! Angreji daru! In blue: ‘La aur pila de!’, ‘Jab shaam dhale, tum yaad aao!’, ‘Har shaam ka sathi!’, ‘Jara jhum ke piyo yaaro!’. There is one more, but isn’t visible.

To my side of the sealed window, is a thick deep maroon and beige curtain that goes pretty well with the dark wooden interior. It cuts all the plebian light from the outside reality and quite succinctly separates the rabble from luxury. Also to my side are a thin television, a white mushy bed, a painting and some yellow lamp-light, adding to the air-conditioned calm. Everyday, when I enter this room numbered 109, to the right there is a sparkling mirror, in which I see a boy buffeted by existential questions and thoughts of the past, present and future. He says, he used to be in such mirrors to dress up well, to style his hair and lament his lankiness. I am told I shouldn’t bother about such things and concentrate on my work. I have no choice since I have no time.

For me, times have changed so drastically, that I cant even criticize VNIT for yet another decision wreck. I graduated a Mechanical engineer, but it is now after almost four and a half years that I realize, how Mechanical it can get! I make a small car. I fit hex flanged bolts, route cables, fill fluids, connect couplers and do a number of less important things too. For a change, I make excel documents on a computer. That is the only time I get to sit. Along with this menial work, I rant and chant Japanese terms every now and then to assert my understanding. I don’t vomit in the bus now. I fall asleep. I was arrogant, boisterous and aggressive. I had an opinion on everything. I had an advice for everyone. I study the Work Instruction Sheets, Control Plans and Version Matrices now.

There is no appreciation for a measured cadence in the way you talk. There is no retribution for arrogance or anger. There is no vacillation in decisions, opinions or expressions. Everything is sorted, systematically arranged, clean, standardized and accountable. This wasn’t an absolute achievement but a modest accomplishment for me to get here one month back. I came with expectations and presumptions. I realize now that there is a lot more- something ahead of the pack, something on the mend and something sicker than expected, to everything, than can be visualized, studied, planned or even abstractly dreamt of. This turpitude and murky munificence has taken a toll on my vocabulary too. I jumble up meanings when I think of what I want, need, desire and wish! I wish to go back, at least for a day, from where I came. But then this place reminds me, if wishes were Horses, I would ride!

A Life to Remember

Here I first ran
To fall, Then
To pick myself up
To learn to walk
And pedal a distance.

It started here
Before I could know what it were
A kid, a boy, a seething man
Stammering, Biting nails
Fighting to feel the make of a Life.

It began with a gung-ho
A gumption to bond
When watches in lectures
Would wish and yearn
For the breaks to Rag.

When Fresh, the mirage gone
The want better than what got
Now a bold voice
And a cocksure brawn
Gauche or glib, it all began.

An everyday host- the Canteen
Serving celebrations in sambhar-style
Captured the seamless mix
Of bubbling wishes and dreams
And rambunctious Happenings.

With a raucous critique
Of the taught and the Teacher
Came brash celebrations of the weekend brio
The bombast resonating
With Aarohi and Axis from an Audi gallery.

Today, the silent roads just go straight
Nests abandoned, birds have flown
The trees now look but green
Waiting dispossessed without life
For the new, to make one and Rejoice.

Voilà!

Why the hell did you want a bridge there, where it fell? Wasn't dying on roads adventurous enough for you for not wanting to try it underground.

They say, it had to be done before the Commonwealth reality game show. Then who had told those six exceptions to go under the mortar bulk and pretend to work? This is what happens when you do not emulate the precedents set by your managing team. Do they really come there to inspect? Do they ever stand under the bulk? And even if they do, do they really inspect? With time, also goes away an opportunity to learn, if you manage to live that is. Good practices need persistence of effort and an intent for professional responsibility. Didn't they show unquestioned faith in Gammon India, to call it back for a major contract notwithstanding the similar 2007 Hyderabad fall. There is always a next time.

With so many distractions around, it is very difficult for Caeser's wife to be absolutely virtuous. If you couldn't get what they want you to know, try to recall the famous Hindi film communique: In big big countries...such small small things...will continue to happen! Everything cannot be made public. They wanted to hammer the road inside. It was creating problems for commuter-traffic. So they decided to let the bridge fall, then the girder and some three cranes too, just in case the first blow doesnt do its bit. They had even warned the workmen and people residing nearby, of the safety hazards and requested them not to fall for the live television coverage by risking their lives. But sincere advice and prompt action doesnt always win appreciation. Despite of all this, what they take ahead in their "Ohh. We have learnt this now.." kitty is the understanding of a very complex theory that has kept engineers and designers from across the world, intrigued for centuries: "To lift something, the counter weight must be heavier." Eureka! Since the cranes collapsed because of a mechanical fault, they would now be using heavier cranes! Gods grace is gratifying! Even if resignations are tabled by rusted swords in their own scabbard, I am sure they wont bow down. They would continue to look forward with unperturbed optimism for their chance to work again with Gammon India, make pockets green and learn something new!

Shame.

Come home to the Change. Milking 377.

It read:

Whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature, with any man, woman or animal shall be punishable with imprisonment for life or with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to ten years and shall also be liable to fine.

IPC 377 hitherto criminalized any penetrative sex that did not lead to reproduction thereby criminalizing sexual expression by homosexuals, bisexuals and transsexuals. It formed the very basis for the widespread stigma, discrimination, marginalization and prejudice against sexuality minorities in our society. Voices against 377 and Naz Foundation, the two organizations that had filed the public interest litigation to repeal the law, now emerge as the harbingers of positive change amongst a people which is plagued by ignorance under the garb of culture and the order of Nature. We should commend this victory for freedom, dignity, respect and the affirmation of rights of all individuals irrespective of their sexual preferences.

Tenets of the holy Bible, the institution of marriage, ethics of the society, family structures and the Law of Nature cannot and are not, above the fundamental rights and liberties of any individual. Religious caretakers and fundamental fanatics cannot justify the paradox of liberating a straight society of a sinister movement like this, by suppressing and denying basic civil rights to a group. A gay isn't essentially one who prefers to wear high heels when he is out on a date, but that doesn't and shouldn't compel him to accept insecurity, fear, prejudice and submission without revolt.

Its time we shed the scales of ignorance and try believing truth for a change. The LGBT individuals are children of normal heterosexual couples, raised in a heterosexual environment and influenced by a majorly heterosexual society. If you say the law of GOD is that two men cant reproduce, it is GOD alone who knows best that they still keep trying! If you say granting homosexuals their civil rights would lead to child abuse in schools and workplaces, think carefully what is rife today.

The lesbian-gay-bisexual-transgenders are neither sick, nor are they wrong. They deserve as much, as you or I do. They pay taxes for protection, not persecution. They desire affection, love and commitment, probably with different means and ends. What has happened, is the vindication of the real law of whatever there is called God, which cant be anything different, than shunning bigotry and sharing a hope to realize a vision for a better and more tolerant tomorrow.

Someone ditched homework!

This is for all of you who seem to be pretty overwhelmingly knocked out by a 'Sea-bull' frenzy. I would like to apprise you of a few things that you have very conveniently afforded to miss. The revolutionary fervor and the sense of urgency to provoke the academia out of its stupor is indeed admirable. However, instead of a Jacobin 100 day agenda, this calls for a more clear, consistent and systematic approach.

1. The debate for pedagogy, rote learning, harassment of students and the trauma is long overdue. The trauma and pressure would continue to haunt us students (I admit it!) till the time there is competition for limited resources. The learning resources and infrastructure in this country are limited and so just changing the percentage system to a percentile system wont do much good. Even the proper distribution of quality institutions can only help to a degree. Example: The CAT continues to be the most competitive examination.

2. The admission criteria for almost all our examinations including those for the IITs, IIMs and the NITs are objective and far from the educators' discretion. Unlike the GRE or GMAT, judgment or overall opinion dont hold ground here. It is fair for the simple reason of our diversity in terms of demographics, location, language, culture, economic background and work ethos. I fail to understand how a single board can bring any change except by stagnating as a counterfeit centralized body. The system must be based on broad evaluation. But our pillars of trust, fairness and honesty arent so strong yet.

3. The real source of trauma is that the infrastructure is in shambles. The teaching quality is pathetic. Tell me a guy who would want to become a school teacher in India. The real challenge for making education enjoyable, clean and a profession commanding respect would be to improve quality of all affecting variables. The Higher Education too is in variant moods. 15 years as the Chairman of the UGC and a plea for a 5 year extension, wasnt enough for an old gentleman like Mr. Yashpal to improve its functioning. Now he recommends to scrap the commission. Sensible and efficient regulation is misunderstood with over regulation.

4. The logic of autonomy, diversity, experimentation and freedom is working against the logic of centralization, standardization and curriculum co-ordination. A bold 100 day hue and cry is just not the answer.

5. From my personal experience: (I am sure even you have experienced this) The plight of a National Institute of Technology, where I study is stark and shameful. The teaching quality is far below an adjective 'average' and probably even lower than 'poor'. Worse is the case with general schools and private colleges. And this is when the system is regulated. Imagine the corruption, inefficiency, nepotism and opportunity hoarding which would run rampant in a so called free and unregulated system. Every school cant be a DPS; every institute cant be an IIT or IIM; every university cant be a Harvard or Oxford. FDI is welcome. But a dozen new IITs and IIMs is a joke! What is needed is a persistent and coherent vision for reassessing, redefining and reforming the basic process of teaching-learning called education.

Mooji the Chooji

If any foolish thing could happen on a certain 1st of |April, it couldnt have been better than the birth of a sensation. After piercing through many-a galaxies and sucking-on many more milky ways, the star chose to flicker here on earth, LIC quarters, Dhantoli to be precise. Actually outer space exists because its afraid to be on the same planet as Moojas. He starts his day with five fingies to choose from to select which cargo he would wear that day. The overhauling of nitrogen-boosters of his Splendor follows next and Moojas is all set to set the road ablaze. A speed breathing demon that he chooses to be is reinforced by the racer-biker position on his dream bike with a Nokia handsfree and a middle finger to raise! With a Rey Baan shade to flaunt on a green sunny Moojas has grown up cooler than all.

A wannabe metalurgist by profession his passion for studying regularly and arrogantly has been overshadowed by his desire to share public limelight everytime. If theres no issue, he chooses to make one. He has stamina. Ohh yes he has! He can give BangBros a run for their money if he chooses to. He runs for stamina. Moojas runs so fast, he can run around the world and punch the back of his head on the way. The only thing that can run faster and longer than him is his sarcastic bickering. He has dimples. He was the one who gave Monalisa that smile! During winters he boils water with his rage. In WWE once he was introduced as : From the Balkan state of Czechoslovakia, weighing just over 58 kilos, here is the stamina stud- Chima!

A physique to be envied and a body so light and buoyant to almost float close to the earth's surface, Moojas now chooses to hit the gym. When he does a push-up, he isnt pushing himself up, hes pushing the earth down. These days he chooses to admire his cookie more than what it deserves. You can very well count to infinity more than a couple of times when he does that.

He just killed Damaha/e with the purple haze from his nasal openings and green sarcasm oozing out like pungent fumes from an open hydrochloric acid container. He however, sometimes just chooses to hold on!

Where there is Moojas, irrespective any goddam will, there isnt and there wont be any way!

Dont let shit happen.

Goodness gracious sakes alive! I learnt this in school long back. But this is for those holy tormented losers who have had a bloody oppressed childhood and shamelessly dare to flaunt to the world their sensibilities for love, friendship and bullshit. If you are one such jerk, who sends those shitty 'send this msg to X number of ya frenz n get ur wish fulfild.. if ya dont then ul c ill luck.. dont afford to ignore. its tried n tested! get going!', things around to your address book contacts, dont ever doubt a person who tells you- You suck. He is wise. Listen to him with your head down and cry if you feel shame. You send these messages to 300 of those whom you somehow manage to exploit on the internet and some selected 3 of the opposite sex on their phones. Your life is a farce. Get done with it.

And if you have the wisdom of refraining from this but still read it lamely, I'll give you my Wilson. Go get some guts stuffed in. Dont waste the frame. Stuff it in the guy who sends you those messages. These passive leeches, not having a life of their own and propounding 'loaw and fra-and-ship' theologies need to take a break and hibernate with a frog in a swamp. They are nothing more than narcissistic ungrateful children of their parents and a pin-pain in the arse for the few who try to live. So next time you get a mail of this sort from a joker, dont hesitate, dont tolerate, just let the son-of-a-gun in you loose, load and shoot that egotistic parasitic germ. Dont let shit happen. Please.

Psychedelic Dreams

I am six feet four. Not a pain in the eye. Can talk sense. Can make a few laugh. Can make a few think. Have a decent academic record. Have a good network of friends, good enough for a lifetime. Modest. That I didn’t wish to be though. It just happened as I understood the world around me. Loved and still love my teachers from Somalwar Ramdaspeth. Remember and miss a lot of that place. Enjoyed the merit and more importantly the man named Athavale. Lived through Shivaji science. Screwed a few exams. Couldn’t land up at a better place than vnit.. It became an abode. Had fun. Relished the “Oh, hes ssso cute!!” charm. Got lucky. Am and will remain lucky. Did Aarohi. Became the top guy, the President as we call it, in my final year. Led. Lectured. Ordered. Got envied. Suffered. Lived a life in a year. It made me happy and popular and that made me happier. Recursion this is called. After all I attended Kanetkar sometime back. Its a course for the C language. You don’t C it coming when you join it. Had a great project at iitk in my kitty. Everyone said it was amazing. It helped me to decide that I didn’t want to do stuff like that for a life and living. Missed a perfect ten by a whisker. Enjoyed cricket more than anything else in college. Managed a few wickets and runs that I would remember forever. Captained the team. We won a few games. Lost a few important ones. Furred all the way. Got a job that almost everyone wanted but couldn’t get. Day zero. Completed the final year project and how. Flunked the cat. The job did the mba.

Today I stand with a bachelor’s degree in Mechanical Engineering with an enviable gpa of 9.2, a job waiting to find time to call me and time, and a lot more of that last thing and some more, and.. forget it. I.. learn to play drums. Hit the gym quite regularly. Do a federer once in a while. Buy laptops, eh sorry, macbooks. Flaunt them a little. Buy space. Apply to the army. Dream to become a civil servant. Try to find a job. Try to wait for my job.

I have decided. I am doing a Legum Baccalaureus. LLB. If you don’t believe me, I wont mock you in public. You can go home and swim in snut. I do not want people to be very agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them a great deal. I know even you wanna do it now leech!

A Critique based on Pure Reason

In case you happen to be one avid reader of the Times of India and approve of admiring its lifestyle supplement, Nagpur Times, Im sure you’ll appreciate the fact I have had the very good privilege to share some photo-space more that a couple of times, with the glamorous hot-chicks from Nagpur. For that matter my locus of interaction with Nagpur Times and so with The Times of India, has had a positive gradient ever since NT was the title sponsor of Aarohi-09, the cultural fest @ VNIT, Nagpur. This year we, together with NT and iBibo.com were able to pump up really good volume into the event to make it one to remember and cherish for audiences in Nagpur. The work ethos, promptness in mobilization and professional dynamism that I witnessed there was certainly something to look up to and emulate.

Today, I was one of three, representing the youth readers of the ToI at a Readers’ survey meeting organized at the Nagpur office. The gathering was hosted by some top dudes of the publication and attended by some top dudes of Nagpur (three exceptions granted!). It was organized probably for understanding different perspectives of readers from different professions and for getting a first hand appraisal. It started late. Top dudes always happen to be busy. And to get so many of them together at the same place and time, is just too much to expect from dudes who themselves are quite busy otherwise! I chose a nice place to sit just in front of a working air conditioner. It wasn’t so difficult to find my way through empty chairs and get the place which I usually prefer. It gives you a straight-not having to sway your neck-view of the projector screen and people around. (they always call good chicks!) While I was having my coffee, I realized this wasn’t one casual heya, ssup? kinda meet (the top n busy dudes were making themselves comfortable now).

With everyone settled and I trying to put up a confident ‘you want some; come get some’ expression on my face (though no one cared to notice it!), the topmost dude from ToI called for introductions. A lady was the first to point out that she was disappointed with the ToI because of its limited coverage of local news and events. The sentiment was endorsed and agreed upon by many who raised a few points in support of the same. One gentleman, with a composed and humble demeanor, which made him my favorite top dude, presented that Nagpur was a small town-like city where every third person was known to you. So for the readers to identify with the newspaper, the coverage of local happenings should comprehensively improve and increase in the first place. He quite blatantly but accurately, pointed out the dominance of City Line- The Hitavada’s Nagpur supplement when it came to local news. The debate was why the local coverage of the ToI was poorer than that of City Line. There was no doubt whether or not it was. Some food for thought from my mind’s platter:

1) It was reiterated time and again in the discussion that it was wrong comparing NT with the City Line given its completely different positioning and targeted market segment. It was suggested that the comparison was redundant and that ToI should look ahead and move with its brand quality and acceptance. My point was that for long term consumer acceptance, the ToI couldn’t afford to be complacent and aim its policy for co-existence. The Hitavada happens to be the only major rival for the ToI as an english daily which in a sense is an advantage considering the competition in city-like cities like the metros for instance. The absence of a local ‘news’ supplement is eating away a huge market segment of the ToI in Nagpur.

2) The local supplement issue couldn’t subside without the mention of the Nagpur Times which even I agree is sort of a misnomer. Classically what the name suggests is in no way justified by what it actually gives to a reader. NT is something you wouldn’t want to read but stare at with an open mouth. As they say, it’s a lifestyle supplement. It is for the youth. I don’t blame them. After all it sells and their job is to sell. But guys seriously take a break. You’ve got a life to live. There is an odd perspective to this too hippy to handle thing. I am sure a majority of parents would be refraining from getting the ToI home because of the utterly useless and obscene photographs and news pieces that they would happily afford to miss. To increase the frequency of NT or to add in more of the same stuff to make it sell like City Line is a dumb idea.

3) Again, from the business point of view, it isn’t enough for them to accept the fact that ToI sells but remains a second preference to The Hitavada which surprisingly was turning out to be true. To think that there wouldn’t be many English reading families not affording more than one daily is far from probable. The topmost dude gave the example of Mc Donalds to probably explain product customization and market segmentation. The basic difference he conveniently missed out is that unlike food, information can’t be cooked. If there is a lack of food or information (as in the present case), howsoever cunningly you cook it, it wont satiate the hungry. NT is junk food. Its tasty but your doctor wont advice you that.

4) A few things worth mentioning were about conclusive journalism, need for expert panel discussions and the environmental awareness initiatives. Also, the need for the e-version of the Nagpur news supplement was expressed. The requirement of better coverage of local sports and career counseling was noted.

5) In the meantime, a dude (I seriously doubt he being anywhere close to the top!), ‘essentially from the media’ was trying pretty hard to share some of his mind. People didn’t seem interested. His husky arrogance couldn’t win him anything more than the ire and irritation of three ladies seated in front of him who couldn’t do anything but turn their faces away, trying desperately to make known how annoyed and exasperated they were. He was so dejected that he picked up a Hitavada supplement and blabbered something irrelevant trying to prove that it was published by the ToI! Lol!

6) The common sentiment which echoed amongst the invited top dudes was that ToI is an established brand in itself. It shouldn’t compromise on anything to even match the standards of The (pretty average) Hitavada. One of them even said, “The editorials are very good.. I require a lot of time to read them (to understand what they mean!)”. I quipped in with what I had understood of my 2 years of CAT training. None of the MBA training institutes in Nagpur (remember the town-like city) suggest the ToI articles are a good read. Almost unanimous choices are the Indian Express, The Hindu and The Economic Times. This called for some introspection but what came was heard as, “Yeah, teachers would never recommend ToI!!” I was happy when the top dudes shouted why?.

After this Readers’ Meet, I doubt more than before, if I should subscribe to this one!

Aid my decision.

The Persistent India Initiative

The Persistent India initiative needs to be appreciated not for its portrayal of the present morass but for its optimism, which itself is very difficult to garner, let alone advocate, in this time of complacency.

The reasons which have led the Indian polity to this sorry state of affairs are not alien to the intellect of the Thinking Indian. However, the glim reality remains that in the sovereign-democratic-socialist-republic of India, despite of our freedom to think, object and express, the pillars of power continue to coerce our conformity and solicit our submission. The fear of failure has got the best of us. Compromise has corrupted our reason and robbed us of our common sense. Someone more guilty than the inefficient politicians, corrupt bureaucracy, opportunistic alliances and media-persons busy with the cow-flying-in-the-air, is the person in our mirrors. With everyone enjoying the comforts of everyday routine- the security of the familiar and the tranquility of repetition, Persistent India gives India what it needs most at this time - Hope.

Be it the media- print or audio-visual, independent business houses, public services or the seemingly incorruptible education system, every running profession in India is plagued with an intentional or unintentional bias towards the political support system for selfish (or self-centered) objectives. The belief that fairness, justice and honesty are not mere words but perspectives and can be translated into actions may seem too far-fetched for those who are already used to and occupied with 'the ways of the world'.

I believe, the force to beckon is the new impatience- the way of life for youth- uncompromising and very demanding. There is no one better poised than the youth of today, the informed, aware, critical and bloggy student community in general, to be convinced of the belief that change can happen!The thing to do is to orient and channelize this untapped enthusiasm and in turn inspire a vision for a bright, believable and sustainable future. This initiative should be a loud call to the Indian youth to reject the conventional irrationality of the present polity and to grasp the need of an activist engagement based on the supremacy of reason, with individualism, self-interest, science, technology and progress as its consequences.

The vision to share remains, that ideas cannot be fought except by means of better ideas. The battle consists not of opposing, but of exposing; not of denouncing, but of disproving; not of evading, but of boldly proclaiming a full, consistent and radical alternative.

Happy to see change happening at www.persistentindia.org

The legend of SK

It wouldnt take long for a seasoned Nagpur localite to recognize what SK stands for. It isnt just a short for a name, but a brand in itself. Its sharp and addictive. SK sums up the character of a dramatis persona called Swapnil Kulat! I would always remain grateful to Prof. Kishor Kulat for being at VNIT and thus granting me the privilege of acquaintance with this vibrant soul for a decently long period of time.

It was since Fulwari- a pre primary school in our area, that Ive had the very good honor to meet, interact with and in a sense experience the phenomenon called 'Kulat'. I am not sure of the reasons why I am writing this stuff. Not that I want to make him feel good but just couldnt resist the temptation of reliving a few recent experiences with him.

I am one amongst those infamous and thought to be immodest and cunning members of the cult of students from Somalwar High School Ramdaspeth. The school produces two types of students, those who secure a place in the merit list in the secondary certificate exam and those who just miss it. A merit position in the 10th boards or a straight 100% PCM in the 12th isnt as much glorified and appreciated here as it would have been in some Sindhi Hindi High School. It is like the first criterion which is checked in you before you are given an admission. In a stint of about 10 years at this place, Kulat was successful in bringing about a sea change in the way the place was looked at. An evangelist at heart, he put in great efforts and formed the 'Kulat Toli'. The gang with a majority from the E section, had an exception in me. I was granted the coveted place because of my old acquaintance with the leader himself. My classmates had found a good reason to ridicule and criticise me for my involvement with the infamous Toli which was always considered taboo for a D section guy. It took a while for them to realize that girls in the 'E' were far better and it was high time that they too make a move from the Anjinkya Deshpande and Mikhail Zade dominated Sapphire clan to a more vibrant and dynamic cult of go-getters functioning under the able leadership of Kulat.

The few in contention who could steal the show were Kautya and Sushant. It was time to share smokes and admire each others' capacity for booze. With this and a common objective of 'Pussy ki maarni hai' in mind, the clan prospered. Stones first pelted on a purple swing, were now targeting a Silver Pulsar. Sushrut became a Godfather to a chanchal killer, Sushant. Ishan made his way to an altogether new high leaving us all behind. I engineered at a college in front of the vnit (doctor) tapri. In the meantime Kulat ruled the terrains around Hingna Road and conquered almost every known chowk in Nagpur. We all fortunately could meet up at every new year's eve and every time there came a new lesson from the Master. We did it all.

Now with engineering finally over and the group uniting again after a long time, there were cheers all over. There was more to the sittings than just the booze and 'pussy ki marni hai.' It was the time of reckoning for Sushant and he rose to the occasion every single time. He matched Master K and tanked up anything and everything that was tabled in front of him. He set new standards for a certain Muzi who just couldnt find time from admiring his new cookie. He had to face the Master's wrath for his unrestrained apetite and un called for mannerisms at a Wardha road sitting. After some mellifluous three-chin music from the Master, it was only a D section Pacman who came to the rescue. What happened next was very much expected.

A happening with the Master the next morning has made the occasion memorable in history. While returning home high on his bike, the Master encountered a budhi at a distance. With all his senses in place, he had the wisdom of intutuing the way the budhi would move to let His majesty's vehicle pass by. Uncommon of a normal selfish human mortal, the Master even gave to the budhi's credit time and space, considering her age and ability. However, the budhi started to 'titar-bitar' on the same spot not making a bold move. The Master finally thought that for a helpless woman of her age, it would be very difficult to return back on her path and so he let her move forward and took his bike behind her. The budhi however couldnt resist the temptation and herself slammed her 'g' to the nose of the vehicle. Before the Master could do anything, the budhi was down and 'Chaaro Khaane Cheet'! A few newbie hogs tried to object to the Master's doing but for the fear of a bhapka, he sped away from the place. The case, even if registered, wouldnt have stood ground, as he had made all arrangements to prove alibi and confirm his presence at a certain Sahasrabhojnee house in Pratap Nagar for that whole night.

The new advent for the Master would now be a country other than his own. After making his presense felt here, and how, he is currently planning to widen his horizons and take up a few new cases.

Addon:

A scene to remember.

Ref.: Venue: Ace something bar, Hingna road, K province.

Date: The same when India played and beat Banglasesh in T20, 2009.

All: Aenjoying! (Muzi in particular)

I: (munching up the free complimentary carrots in a unique guttar-guttar fashion)

the K: (the mandibular jaw brought in front of the maxillary; with half-closed or open, pink eyes and plump lips) Abe bhaaou....chya.

If you are still with me, I am sure you are one from the cult of Kulat lovers. I appreciate it.

Love you SK.

An eye for an eye?

After almost a month which saw a new habit of attacking Indians grow in Australians, with more that 10 Indians attacked in Australia, came a sign of retaliation from the Indian community. There were reports of an Australian been attacked by Indians. Despite Australia's claims that the attacks arent racist in nature, the figures released by the Police Chief Commissioner tell a sad story. He confirms that the cases of robbery and assault against Indians have increaded by almost 50%.

With the economic slowdown and the job slumber affecting the United States, Australia is emerging as the new hub for education for students from across the spectrum. The number of Indian students in Australia is rising and so is the rate of hate crimes~or whatever you call it. The pride and arrogance in Australian hospitality is down in shambles as constant claims of restoring peace and harmony seem to bear no fruit whatsoever.

The Australian High Commissioner John Mc Carthy says measures are taken to ensure safety of Indians. While he says so, on air, there are live reports of yet another attack! This time a 21 year old slashed with a box-cutter by a group of men on a college campus in Melbourne, the capital of Victoria wheere most of the attacks have taken place. Glory for shame! With the Australian envoy admitting that there may be an element of racism involved and despite his claims of concerted efforts to curb further violence, the very reason and motive are being paid no heed. Mc Carthy reiterates that the attacks are primarily criminal in nature. If they are, isnt it a failure on part of the security systems? With the issue getting pitched in media circles around the globe with stories being reported, told and made round the clock, to comment that these are just routine criminal attacks that need to be checked is something that would put even the BJP to shame!

Had it been criminal, the perpetrators would have been more ruthless. The fact that individual students are being attacked by groups suggest that there is something turning up that aome Australians dont like about Indians. One is the sister-story of the Raj Thackrey episode in Mumbai, with Australians seemingly upset with Indians preparing to settle permanently there. The only problem that might be hindering Indians in Australia is their sheer less number. Give them an opportunity and I am sure they'll show you how they can make you feel proud. Even if the issue isnt racist, it is made into one with all ramblings in the media and irresponsible inaction on part of the Australian government.

With first signs of violent retaliation today, I fear we wont be able to host the next IPL season! It doesnt take more than a sigh to instigate a storm in India!