GimMI a break!

There is this tendency of ours to throw opinions, judgments and concoct explanations for every other happening that seems controversial enough to create uproar. All the hoopla around the Indian Premier League for reasons other than cricket is perfectly justified. It’s a meat stake for the media and quite easy a topic for the bourgeois to assert expertise. Straightforward and simple facts are often deliberately ignored for assigning more convenient and suitable cause-effect relations to an event.

I happened to read this book called ‘Fooled by Randomness’ by Nassim Nicholas Taleb at a time when the IPL was nearing its climax; it was appraisal time at my workplace and when B-schools were offering admissions. I must admit that it was because of this book, a real good one, that it became really easy to cope up and recover from a number of disastrous things that unfolded at around the same time. Also, it aided an argument I always had against cricket ‘experts’ who take their knowledge of the game and of the world in general, a bit too seriously.

The Mumbai Indians lost the final. Now it is insane and grossly unfair to assign reasons and causes to results that cannot be simulated in laboratories, television discussions or by sms polls. Every event tends to seem less random or more causally assignable in the retrospective. Now with all computable odds against the Chennai side and with Mumbai on a roll, very few would have put their money on the CSKs. Even though it was difficult to predict this outcome theoretically, in the retrospect, everyone seems to justify the reasons why it happened. The pathetic part is when they ramble on to prove how Sachin Tendulkar made some big mistakes that even a kid could have easily avoided. It isn’t as complicated as it seems or is made out to be. It takes courage to remain skeptical, to introspect and to accept one’s limitations. Not just from personal experiences, but otherwise also, I believe, we aren’t just a superficial race, but a very unfair one too.

Farce: Now, Today and 24×7

I feel ashamed and terribly appalled by the disposition of the Indian Television Media in the face of a crisis, which had buckled the entire world down to its knees. I couldn’t help but vent out the anguish and frustration when our news industry didn’t find any business in reporting and following the tragedy, measuring 7.0 on the Richter scale, which struck a small nation on January the twelfth. Haiti, a poor Caribbean nation which has been reeling under poverty for all the time registered in recent history, is torn and tossed apart. Magnitude and scale of the massive disaster can very well be judged by the fact that close to two hundred thousand are feared dead.

Although there is nothing at all to expect from channels like India TV and the (few hundred) like, it is disturbing to know that even those glorified by a façade of sterling personalities and a much-preached reputation for responsible, true and fearless reporting, didn’t find this important. Told or untold, the fact remains that for want of resources the Indian media cannot match up to the comprehensive coverage on BBC or CNN. One needs to laud the efforts of media-men on the ground, who have been capturing on-camera and paper, not only the massive devastation and loss of life, but also relief efforts, need for urgent aid and the burgeoning social imbalance. Probably our media too has its reporters there, on the ground, sorting rubble, making reports and feed for their channels. If not anything else, it was for them that they needed to keep business aside and engage in the cause in a more sensitive and responsible manner.

Instead, what they were running were raunchy shows and belligerent panel discussions. One was digging deep in the grave to prove or disprove, whether Jyoti Basu was bad for Bengal, another was evaluating prospective bidders for Afridi and Pollard at the IPL Bazaar Auction which was to follow the next morning and the remaining were making money from the ostentatious portrayal of the Indian bourgeois. Who is to blame? The close to hundred news channels, reporting sensationalized crime and love stories, or we and others like us who have made them loud and arrogant.

Heart Break Kid

It is quite extraordinary to admit that the most difficult part of writing an article is how to begin. And while I write this, I suddenly realize that I am wrong! However, when I try to maneuver on the right track, I am back where I began. I wish to be distinctly unique with anything I do, and this most suitably applies to my experiments with converting thoughts into words. This is the general case with almost every kid who somehow manages, to become an engineer. Engineers are so unique! :P
The benchmark to begin with is the neighbor’s son or a distant relative or some random geek employed in a multinational company. The first goal- specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and time-bound, for some, is to secure the first rank, for some others, a merit position and for the rest, a decent 80 percent in the 10th standard board examination. Kids are told, or somehow manage to find out, that this examination happens to hold the key to their future. And just one year of hard work can make or break their career.

Ok. The kid goes through the thing. He scores a 92 percent and a stamp size photograph of his features in the local daily newspaper. The kid, and in some cases even the parents realize, that he was worthy enough for a 95 percent and the front page full body photograph. Now this is the same kid who goes on dabbling and yammering to his less fortunate friends and their obsequious parents, the schools and courses that are the best in offing, given the trends in industry and based on the feedback from his very successful brother working in the United States, who gets for him a cap and a shirt occasionally, and a packet of chocolates every time he visits India. The kid gets an admission in the most sought school, which is decided by the choice of the majority before him. With the glorious company of erudite scholars and rocket scientists in the making, it is difficult for the kid to keep to himself the feelings of ecstasy. So, he takes his bicycle and goes hunting. Most obviously, the first place he visits is the place of his friend who has scored less than him. While he is appreciated by the parents of the less fortunate kid, he seeks solace in the despondent expression on his friend’s face. Now the friend, and his parents, not ready to leave any stone unturned, somehow use their ‘contacts’, pay some money and arrange an admission into the same school. This spells disaster for the first kid who is by now convinced of the fact that his parents are worthless. He sits dejected and remembers the time when he used to make plans for his better life after the 10th board examination. He then realizes, it isn’t so much fun as he had expected. Anyhow, life goes on.

The fairer sex is a complicated phenomenon that he sets out to deal with. The very presence of a girl close enough to be able to smell her, freezes his sputum and transforms his cerebral material into cauliflower. Unperturbed by the crisis, he envisions a bold self of him, two years hence. Meanwhile, the IIT/AIEEE tuition scene is a happening, as happening as any Spielberg movie. The happiest moments for this kid are those when he outshines in the class, features around the expected toppers and when he is the only one able to crack a complicated problem. At last, the season ends. He again gets something and calculates that he could have done better. Now the only two options that this kid and his family have in life are:

1) Admission into an engineering institute this year or

2) Drop this year. Admission into a better engineering institute next year.

Ok. Now he calculates the probability of his getting a better choice next year, the available choices for tuitions in Kota and Hyderabad, the investment and the opportunity cost. Late after-dinner discussions and intensive consultations with experts lead the kid and his parents to a decision to opt for an institute. Now the billion dollar question is: Which college? Which branch? This requires an in-depth analysis of ‘the placement scene in the college’ and the ‘scope of the branch’. The list of experts summoned and approached for reaching a conclusion are old professors staying in the neighborhood, relatives working in the US, friends going into an IIT and senior students, both specifically chosen and randomly sampled.

Ok. The admission is done. Now the content may vary, but the process is similar for almost everyone.
(Now, below I write only for a few like me.)
Four years, if the kid is fortunate, pass, and an engineer is created. This kid doesn’t buy textbooks, notebooks or a bathing soap ever (not me, but a majority). The number of hours he studies for examinations is directly proportional to the number of examinations he writes, the proportionality constant being very close to one. The toppers happen to have this greater than one and the majority, less, but very close to one in both the cases. He is placed in a company at a round of campus interviews and there are parties thrown for even the bleak acquaintances. Four years of engineering are a celebration and reward of the hard work put in before. The initial torture of giving up things weighs against any justification for class bunks, phone bills, petrol, girl-spending that couldn’t fetch anything worthwhile, low scores, tapri sittings, cricket, smokes, booze and college fests. People, who care and bother to remember those times after six months, are the few who cherish their four years of engineering. I am sure there is a big number, including this kid in the narrative. Now this kid, after a long slumber, suddenly realizes that he is independent. Technically speaking, if I quantify by comparing scores, (I am an engineer. Scientific temperament and not blood runs through my veins! :P ) a kid learns so much in the first four years of his life and so little in his four years of engineering! Even then, given any amount of freedom to choose from every available option in this world to pursue higher education, or even doing away with it for the sake of doing ‘what you always wanted to do’, I do believe, that it is these four years that teach you to have a true sense of belonging for a bunch of people and if not anything else, make you what you always wanted to become- independent.