Reading my mind...

Srivatsa read 4 lines of my handwriting, and wrote down 20 lines about my personality.

Absolutely UNREAL!!! 95% of it was correct. Kudos to him.

But he missed one thing. I hate someone reading my mind or my thoughts. I'm never doing this again...

Hostel Days - 1 - The Boys Hostel

The Boys Hostel. Men's Hostel... whatever... Its still the same.

We might go from boyz-2-men, but that doesn't change much. This ones about the physical environment we live in - The Boys Hostel.

A guy's room is typically unclean. A guy's hostel room, even more so! Sounds cliched, but is cliched for a reason. The rooms really are quite unclean. Typically a 10 ft x10 ft room, a single bed, almirah, a wooden study table and 2 chairs (one to sit on, the other to dry clothes).

Typical situation: 

Bed covered by bedsheet, has a customized pillow (this is one thing guys are extremely passionate about!), a crumpled 'chaddar' thats never folded back after the night, and simply lies around like that. 

The table seldom has a table cover (unless the boy has an over-protective mother). It houses the laptop, 2.1 surround speakers (sounds unaffordable to a student studying on a student loan, but isn't), a pen-stand, water bottles, cell phone, some books and other peripheral junk like half-used medicine strips, scraps of paper with information scribbled on them, old case study papers, some more books, receipts from last months shopping trip to the city, a movie ticket etc.

One chair is always with the table, the other has small items like UGs, handkerchiefs, socks etc. drying on it. 

The almirah is STASHED! In the most disorderly fashion imaginable, the various compartments contain clothes (ironed and unironed together), UGs, sweaters and thick 'chaddars' for the winter, waterproofs, footwear, suits and formal wear and at least 2 large empty suitcases/strolley bags which were brought along when the person first came here.

Usually 1 small white board contains scraps of writing from the past year. A few assorted pictures. Somehow, probably cause we're away from home, all the boys (barring the atheists) have a couple of frames of whichever god they believe in. Beside that are pictures of family/wife/girlfriend (or sometimes even a picture of close friends a la Dil Chahta Hai).

Thats about the room. Now the hostel in general. The toilets are... well... atrocious. Often they look and feel like Railway station 2nd class waiting room washrooms. They don't smell like that though. Railway washrooms (and for that matter anything Railways) has this peculiar smell of metal. The corridors are generally clean, basically cause the college employs housekeeping staff. The hostel has a central open air enclosed space, converted into anything from Basketball courts, paved courts to flower beds. These are the best source of entertainment for the denizens. There is also a 'common room'. I don't know why it is called that. Just feel it is a rather unimaginative name for a room. It houses a TV, some TT tables or carrom boards, and some broken chairs. Here, it also houses some broken printers.

The above despicable description isn't common for all though. There are some guys who are worse (that is really possible!), and some who are much better. But this kind of community housing leads to an odd bonding among its denizens. Thats lacking in my block cause the seniors living here before pretty much kept to themselves, and never bonded with us juniors.

But B-Block 2nd floor does have some interesting seniors now. Theres me, Rohit 'NoWay' Patil, Atul 'A-Pod' Poddar, and the inimitable Vikrant Bhalla. Were the craziest among the others. The bathroom has some really weird plumbing; every time anyone turns on the cold water tap, all 3 bathrooms get only cold water. And thats extremely annoying when you are bathing against time in the winters! Then me, Bhalla and Patil try and go one-up on each other in coming up with the most exotic curses for the ass who did it. Other than that, we also indulge in playing odd songs in tandem, screaming randomly at each other, exchanging notes on movies and songs and also waking each other for lectures.

Okay, thats about it. I'm off to clean up my room and get my clothes from the washing machine. Need to dry them... on the chair.

Hostel days

I've completed a year at IIM-I, living in a hostel for the first time, and now the new batch of first year students has joined us. Looking at their naive reactions this new life, I feel I have gained some perspective over the past year.

This is the first in a series of posts where I pen down my views on campus life, hostel living and its facets. Some of it may be generalised to any kind of hostelery, while some might be specific to my dwellings here. All of it, though, is entirely my personal opinion. Judge me if you must...

Candid thoughts (someone else's) on Mumbai

Not too often does one get to read the first-hand experience of someone new to Mumbai living in the city in the peak of the monsoon mayhem (which visitors hate the most).

Its candid, very well written, and... well, quite insightful... so here goes... http://ohnewoerter.blogspot.com/2009/07/statutory-warning-this-narration-is.html

The Real MBA degree... Please stand up!

Its heartening to read http://careers360.in/lead-story/iipm---best-only-in-claims.html

Finally, someone stood up and tried to expose the wildly innacurate and falsified claims and the media's complicity with Arin-DUM Chaudhary and his Indian Institute of Planning and Management (IIPM). The name itself reeks of 'farzi'-ness. 'Planning'?? What was he thinking???

Nevertheless, no point in going on-and-on about how fake are his placement figures, how prepsterous are the average salaries, how innacurate are his claims of internation faculty participation and how his internation tie-ups and partner colleges are nothing but unaccredited 3rd rate colleges in their own countries. Its all there in that report.

The real question that begs to be answered is what is this mad rush for an MBA degree? And at what cost, and I i'm not even thinking monetary.

Being inside a premier B-school for about a year now, I can vouch for how hyped and overpublicised an MBA degree is. And no offences to people who don't make it to the top rung of colleges - its just not worth it going to an IIPM just because one sees green manna at the end of 2 years...

And I'll give you my reasons why... Firstly, I have learnt more outside the classroom at IIM Indore than I have ever learned inside a classroom. Classroom education can be replicated.. even duplicated. But what about the outside experience?

The sheer pressure of having to compete with the top 1% of the country's youth itself makes you raise your game several levels up. Organizing events with a budget of more than 2 lack, restructuring a committee by introducing best practices and processes, trying to gather common funds from 240 unwilling and sharply cunning people, keeping people motivated to do non-academic tasks in the face of adverse academic conditions, two months at a premier international bank, interacting on a first name basis with alumni who are CFOs and Country Heads running large organization... these are the things what a manager needs to learn to do!

A Kotler or a Damodaran can teach you only so much; but what about all the above aspects. Zig Ziglar never can tell you how to sell a concept where people have to pay INR 1000 as contribution for a party they can't attend. Porter can never envisage the forces at play when one has to design events that outsmart competitor colleges with better resources. Damodaran can only give you the best D-E ratio for a large project, but can he teach you how to raise 35 lack in funding for an internal event, with traditionally low sponsorship and rather low turnout, with absolutely no equity and debt?

Havin worked for about 24 months totally, at 2 widely different corporates, I have realized one thing. Give me 4 months at absolutely ANY job, and I can learn it! It is the 'other' experience that a top-rung B-School provides that outscores anything that an IIPM or other tier - 4/5 college can provide.

And secondly, an MBA isn't the ultimate quest everyone must aspire for. Over the past year, I have seen people do well at things they like to do, with or without an MBA. Trust me, you are better off doing something you like and are good at, rather than joining a B-School (be it any) simply because you've heard that MBA are paid monstrous salaries for incredibly simple work. Both can't be true together. And what about satisfaction? Whats the point of doing drudgery for 50 lack a year, when your heart is somewhere else, and the mind alltogether elsewhere?

'De Dhakka' is a rip off too!!!

Not sure who, but someone advised me to watch the marathi movie 'De Dhakka'.

And, well, I did take the risk of watching it.

And 30 mins into the movie I had a feeling its ripped off from 'Little Miss Sunshine'. And watdyaknow, I was right!!!

Loose ends

Just saw this movie - "Vickie Cristina Barcelona".

Beautiful, albeit... ummm... slightly weird, movie this.

But I have noticed that I get this odd uneasy feeling, an uncommon feeling of haplessness when I see movies like VCB or read books like "English, August"... storylines that talk about the hollowness of many of our lives's pursuits... of the continous search with no end in sight... loose ends...

Wonder why... not sure...

Sometimes...

Sometimes...

All you need is a patient ear,

Sometimes,

You want a hug, a warm embrace

 

Sometimes,

You need the hug, the warm embrace

 

Sometimes,

You want someone to say “It’s ok, tough luck”

 

Sometimes,

You feel cold, and want some warmth,

 

Sometimes,

You feel hot and tired, and need a cool calm,

 

Sometimes,

 you just want to be alone,

Sometimes,

you just don't, can't,

Sometimes,

you want to just go away with someone,

Sometimes,

you want someone to take you away,

Sometimes,

you want answers,

Sometimes,

you don't want to hear even a single question,

Sometimes,

you just want to break, out, free, away...

There are many such times, not sometimes, often... But there isn't that someone, just no one.

Vote - its not your right, nay, its a responsibility

Voted for the 2009 parliamentary elections today morning.

Bad candidates, worse agendas, dirty campaigning, mud-slinging, horrible weather, neglected policies, broken promises, vote-bank politics, hate speeches, 'joota' attacks, delimitation, criminal backgrounds, bad actors turned crooked politicians, pseudo secularism... aren't excuses!

This isn't a privilege, for certain we've not earned it. It is a responsibility.

Go vote.

Mee ShivajiRaje Bhosle Boltoy

Saw a Marathi movie after a long time today. "Mee ShivakiRaje Bhosle Boltoy".

Rather expected storyline. A hen-pecked and insulted maharashtrian, well, a 'maharashtriy', as the movie prefers to call 'em, one day gets fed up of all the insults and being treated like a dog in his own backyard.

The insults are rather exaggerated, the acting slightly over-the-top and the plots rather idealistic. But, what the heck, anything is better than "Tasveer",  now isn't it!

The movie revolves around the protagonist D.M.Bhosle. The man is a middle class bank clerk who gets nagged (and often overly insulted) by just about everyone. He is the stereotypical 'asmita haravlela' (one who has lost his identity) marathi manoos. To add to the hassles of daily life, is an unscrupulous builder, and his (rather long) array of yes-men. Here, I felt the insults were too exaggerated. Nowhere does the fish seller insult a buyer aloud regularly. And neither does a movie director tun away a girl after selecting her for her merit, just because she is a 'bhosle', a marathi, who supposedly can't carry off western clothes and has a vernacular tinge to her English. Nevertheless, as expected, one day he just can't take it anymore. He loses it!

Enter Chattrapati Shivaji Maharaj! Now this was a welcome change from the usual pathetic story lines dished out in marathi cinema. The Maharaj and his aide themselves appear in front of the protagonist Bhosle and guide him with the tonic of marathi 'bana'. Bhosle gathers his whiny act together, and decides to brave it out. Believe himself that he is part of the problem, and then try to fix it. Not just for himself and his family, but for the marathi manoos in general. To see how he does it, go watch the movie.

Some things here that really struck a cord, and some others that well, just fell flat.

Bhosle explains to the Maharaj that today's Mumbai is dominated by outsiders. The Sindhis andMarwaris control the business, the south indians control the food and restaurant businesses and the north indians have converted the civil services into their fiefdom due to rampant nepotism. The part where Shivaji explains to a distraught Bhosle, that the cause of this situation is the marathi manoos himself, really struck a cord. The crowd was literally 'pin-drop' silent. "Who stopped you from doing the same, Bhosle?" astutely questions the Maharaj off the protagonist. Who stopped you from doing business, from running hotels, and from entering the civil services. Not the sindhis and marwaris, not the udipis and not the bhaiyyas. Its our own inability, our own incompetance maybe, that has lead to this situation. "'Amchya shakha kuthe hi nahit' (we have no other branches) he mhanyat ucchata manoon kasa chalel?", he adds.

Though, I would accuse the movie of containing some stereotypes. The north indian taxi driver and the muslim tailor who are tenants in Bhosle's large bunglow. There is a part where Bhosle magnanimously makes sure that their interests are taken care of. He had explained how they too were as much 'maharashtiy' as him. Since they were born and brought up here, and their children study here in a vernacular medium school. Well, I just thought it was a ploy to distance the movie from the MNS's anti-bhaiyya taxi drivers plank. And, it worked too, to some extent. The typical 'Usman Parkar' bhai wasn't too convincing, at times even comical.

The movie also suffers from some over-zealous action stunts towards the end. That and the story in the latter part gave a feeling that the director just somehow lost his way, and wasn't sure what next to do.

Nevertheless, credit must be given for some excellent cinematography. My biggest complaint about recent marathi films has been the abysmal cinematography. The usual fare is too trashy to even merit a look, but even some great recent movies like 'Shwaas', have some very poor filming. See it and you can see the film quality change over scenes! But this one is a cut above them all in this respect. Excellent shots, a beautifully choreographed 'shahir' sequence, some crisp editing of Shivaji Maharaj's horse riding scenes that could so easily have overwhelmed the movie, and excellent film quality.

Personally, I thought the plot was.... ummm... well... can't really describe it. I'm sure though, that I wouldn't call it a good storyline. It definitely had a tinge of Munnabhai, but only up to the idea of a man visualising a famous historic personality. 

But there are some real lessons to be picked from the movie; at least worth the one watch.

Work-Life balance... is there anything like that??

Quite thought provoking, this...

Excerpt of a dialogue from "The Devil wears Prada"...

Nigel: Excuse me, will you adjust the attitude! Don' make me feed you to one of the models

Andrea: Sorry... it's... aaa... a busy day. And my personal life is hanging by a thread, thats all.

Nigel: Ah, well, join the club. That's what happens when you start doing well at work... Lemme know when your whole life goes up in smoke... that means its time for a promotion

Makes me wonder... "How True" I say... is there really something like 'Work-Life' balance. Or is that all just bullshit?

Wasteful pursuits of an idle mind

Deepesh challenged me to this seemingly inane online game - Monkey Kick-Off. Sounds dumb, is dumb, but rather addictive - especially when someone challenges you, and you have nothing better to do but study.

Today I finally beat his score, so just had to go on record with this!!!

Beat that, buggers! (if you've got nothing better to do)

Evening glory

This is evening was unusually beautiful... Well, not unusually... Though the days have become blisteringly hot, with hot breeze blowing all day, the evenings are rather pleasant, and the sky is lit by the setting sun with myriad colours. I'm just not around in the evenings to see all that.

Nevertheless, I got a chance to go out today evening, and predictably so, my trusty camera was hanging by my side. It has been rather hot lately, and the clouds gathered today for a spot of light rain and some Evening Glory.

Tandem writing at its best!

This is one of the most hilarious stories I've EVER come across. I almost died laughing over this one... I got this some 4-5 years back, most probably over e-mail; so much so, that I can't even remember who sent it. Its a tandem writing exercise i.e. one person writes a paragraph, while the next one is written by another person.

THE STORY:

(first paragraph by Rebecca)

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The

chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now

reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he

liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind

off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about

him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of

the question.

(second paragraph by Gary)

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of   the attack squadron

now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about

than the  neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with

whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. " A.S. Harris to

Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar

orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could

sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a

hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him

flying out of his seat and across the  cockpit.

(Rebecca)

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt

one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who

had ever  had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its

pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4.

"Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel,"

Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously

excited her and bored her. She stared out the  window, dreaming of her

youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no

newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of

innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one

lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)

Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands

of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of

its  lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed

the Unilateral Aerospace disarmament Treaty through the   congress had

left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were

determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage

of the treaty the  Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying

enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop

them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion

missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his

top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the

coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized

poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca)

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My

writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary)

Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose

attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I

have  chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--KING TEA???

Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many

Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca)

Asshole.

(Gary)

Bitch

(Rebecca)

F__K YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary)

Go drink some tea - whore.

(TEACHER)

*A+ - I really liked this one.*

Manifestations of tension

The last week or so has been trying to say the least... and will be so till 31st March.

We have been working on the trot, without a break, and will do so till 31st March.

And the tension, fatigue and lack of sleep is manifesting itself in different ways in different people.

For my part, I am increasingly annoyed, frustrated and with a general frown on my face. At least, more than usual. Deepesh is getting crankier by the day, with enormous mood swings from affection (!) to hatred for the woman kind in my college. Vivek too is increasingly irritable, talks less and generally disappears from the usual haunts.

Some others are more subdued, others have begun plotting for the exams. Some other have become increasingly artificial, have been buttering the faculty way (!!!) more than usual, and are simply irritating to have around. Even with no CP, some people's mental acidity comes out as verbal diarrhoea in class!

"The days have gone down in the west... How did it come to this?"

Back to debating

Took part in a Parliamentary Debate organized by the debating society today.

Can't believe its been more than 3 years since the last time I participated in a debate. I had forgotten my own voice!

I lost today. Qualified for the final round, but me and my team-mate came third among three. All three were separated my 1 point each, so it was one really closely fought contest. Worst part is, didn't win any cash :-(

Nevertheless, the best part was that I enjoyed it! I had given up debating after my team's loss in the Fr. CRCE memorial annual debate in my final year in engineering in 2005.

Felt great to be back in that debating atmosphere. Somewhere over the years, I had lost that edge. I don't know why... maybe out of fear, maybe out of shame of losing, maybe out of embarrassment or maybe out of sheer laziness, I had entirely stopped debating, and consequently, was completely out of touch with current affairs and issues. Well, now I'm back!

The Bhimbetka excursion

Just got back from a 2 day trip to Bhimbetka, a world heritage sight about 250km from Indore.

It isn't a particularly spectacular place, but I just HAD to get out of this campus! The extended weekend presented the perfect opportunity, and for once, I jumped at it.

This place is basically some rock formations and rock wall painting dating back about 9000 years to Mesolithic man. Most of there are hewn into solid rock by wind or water where, presumably, Mesolithic man lived, ate, drank, slept and hunted. As proof, all we have is wall paintings using 'geru' or natural orange/ochre paint, that is absorbed into the stone. This prevents the paintings from being erased by natural forces over time. The pictures mostly consist of cows, bulls, other random animals and hunting and party scenes.

The best part was that I got the first chance to unveil my new camera, the Canon SX10 IS. Had a field day taking photographs in every possible mode and situation. That was the highlight of the trip :-)

An enviable death

This is touching statement I heard on TV the other day.

Some crappy news channel was interviewing slain ATS chief Hemant Karkare's widow, and she was talking about her husband. For a typical Indian lady, she appeared very composed. While descibing the incidents, she made a very poignant statement.

"People envy the life of big people... People envious of the life of Shah Rukh Khan (people envy the life lead by famous people like Shah Rukh Khan), but my husband's death is enviable".

Hemant Karkare is really blessed, and I envy him - in life and death.

It SUCKS to be undecided

"So, what are you planning on specializing in?", "So, what are you planning on doing?". In the last couple of days, somehow, I've been asked these question quite often. A majority of times, by myself.

And I don't know the answer!!!

There is this song that says:
"Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life...
the most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what
they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year
olds I know still don't."

It's really easy for people to say that it's cool to be undecided; Yeah RIGHT! They won't understand how hard it is to answer the above questions when every person you meet after a span of more then a month asks them to you. They will never understand how it feels like to stand in a group of people who are discussing industry trends and career paths, when the only thing going on in your mind is :"F*&%, these guys are GOOD!". They'll never understand how difficult it is to motivate yourself to do things like studies.

And most of all, they'll never understand, that when you are really low, when everything around you seems to be going horribly wrong, when you are doubting your own abilities, how almost IMPOSSIBLE it gets to explain your most mundane actions. It seems surreal, when your very existence becomes inexplicable.

The deepening void with not a straw to cling

I realized what blindsided really means. There are some pent up emotions inside everyone (which, by the way, I feel girls are much better at releasing than guys), some feelings, thoughts, reflections, and all it needs is some trigger, often quite unrelated. And SNAP!

Something snaps, and the floodgates open, and all those reflections come running out. Blindsided.

I guess I am quite an expressive person. My expressions and emotions are always hidden. But some of my closest say that my eyes say a lot; sometimes give me away. I wonder what my face says at such occasions, because not all can notice it. My parents have never been able to decipher them, many of my close friends can't see it. Vivek saw it rather instantly today, so I was wondering what gave me away. Cause, well, I was really Blindsided!

It's not that hectic life here is getting to me, because trust me, I can handle and have handled worse situations all alone. It's just like what they say, "sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind... the race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself". I guess I took this far too seriously. And when you seem to lag in this ultimate race, even with yourself, thats when it strikes you that something is wrong, terribly wrong!

I won't go into what exactly got me upset. Actually there were too many things. An initiative I wanted to drive wasn't coming along, committee w is pressing, studies are in the doldrums, and many more. Details, maybe later.

But what got me most upset is that there is no one or nowhere I can vent all this out. What I meant before is that girls find it a lot easier than guys to express such feelings (Well, this may be a generalization, I'm not sure if I'm right). They talk to their girlfriends (and they all have at least one), and with whom they are absolutely free. They bare themselves to them, talk it over, and its over! But for us guys, and especially jerks like me, such relationships are few and far between.

I am finding it increasingly impossible to talk about my deepest feeling to absolutely anyone. Its not like I don't have close friends. My best friends can't comprehend my panic in such situations. I have spoken to them about these things many times, but they don't get it. I just come across as the neurotic guy who keeps cribbing about everything. There are very few who can even notice that there is something wrong, given my behavior, and even among those handful, hardly anyone can sympathize, let alone empathize with what I am going through this very moment. And that scares me. Am I becoming incapable of building a more-than-superficial relationship with anyone?

At such times, you need someone to talk to, someone to be with, someone to hold on to, and how much ever my pride might come in the way of admitting, someone to cling to, to hold on to for sanity. I don't have anyone like that. I just realized... that I really AM alone.