Ascending a descending escalator

So the e-mail that I sent to my office colleagues on a November morning read like this: 

Dear all,
I fell down the stairs and hurt my knee badly. The doctor has recommended 2-3 days of bed rest. Would be working from home till then.
Regards
Achintya

Although I actually had fallen from stairs, I actually had hurt my knee and was on bed rest, I knew that this information was slightly different from what really had happened...
The previous evening I was rushing my way in a mall to a store which I knew was going to close soon. I had one more floor to climb when I saw that the only thing separating me and the store was an escalator. The only problem was that it was moving down and I had to climb up. Generally each descending escalator is coupled with an ascending one. In this case it was a few meters away. Then suddenly I found a voice in me asking me to climb up the descending thing. That voice convinced me that I had already done it once and I can do it again. So I started doing the impossible, I started climbing up that thing. And as some witnesses state I fell twice, hurt the same knee twice by the escalator edge , made a fool of myself in the mall.... but ultimately I did it, I climbed the escalator.

And then later when I told this story to other people, almost everyone convinced me that it was a pretty difficult thing to do. And I found that they were right because of two reasons:
1) The very fact that you are climbing up a descending thing, so you have to be faster than the speed with which it is going down.
2) In an escalator the height of each step is not equal and is different at different periods in the whole cycle. So if you see, step size is smaller in the beginning, then it gets bigger and then get small again when you reach the end. That increases chances of toppling. 

So even though I ended up with an injured knee, some long lectures from friends and limped for the next 10 days, I was happy that I did that thing and that I completed whatever crazy feat I was trying to do. So much so, that I decided to do it again the next time but without falling. So the top '5 things in my wishlist before I turn 28' looked something like this:
1) Rock climb at Grand Canyon
2) Spend a month long holiday in Mediterranean
3) Make enough money to spend a month long holiday in Mediterranean
4) Get a job where I can get a month long holiday to spend it in Mediterranean
5) Climb up descending escalator without falling

So things started going fine again; my knee recovered; I stopped doing crazy stunts because I knew I had 4 more years to do them; and everything went fine until yesterday when I had the most terrible experience one could have in my situation...
So I was at Ansal  Plaza and as usual everything was going fine until I saw this guy trying to do the same thing that I did that day. He was climbing a descending escalator! And as I saw him struggle with the first few steps, I thought, Oh God, please don't make him fall. And as I saw him reach the last steps, I thought, Oh God, please make him fall. But he ultimately did it.. he climbed up a descending escalator!
And more thing I might have missed upon... that guy must have probably been some 65 years in age.

So ultimately it sucks to suck at something and then get to see the last man you expected on the planet to do it. But then you never know, someone might be fulfilling his '5 things to do before I turn 65' wishes! (Did the escalator at Ansal's moved slower than the one in the mall where I fell down ??)

Shifting Houses

So we shifted our house from the awesome Sarita Vihar colony to super costly Safdarjung Enclave area. The reason for the shift was that I wanted a house so near to my office that I can walk there everyday. Hence this new house is 5 minutes from my office, 25 minutes from my gym and 30 minutes to IIT (all walking) which are practically 99% of the places I spend my weekdays. However living so near to office has its own disadvantages like you cannot get out of home late and sms your boss, 'stck in a bad jam.. will b late'. Moreover such localities are very costly.
However for me the entire shifting episode was a very big learning for one reason that it was the first time I did such massive packing, house hunting and shifting together when generally I suck at all the three things. But in this case as my flatmates ( who were also my batchmates ) were helping me in the entire shifting + packing, I got insights into certain 'shifting & packaging' personas which I have mentioned below:

1) The packing 'champions': These people are so comfortable with packing and shifting that it makes you feel as if they have injected themselves with Monica Geller harmones. Such people take charge of the entire packing and know exactly what is to be done at what time. In this case one of my roomies not only did most of the packing but took care of all bills, disposing unrequired furniture, security money, net connection etc. etc. etc.etc.

2) The packing 'daunteds': These people literally suffer from packing phobia and as you can see in the piture might even forget to take a bath in the entire shifting trauma. In my case I literally kept on delaying the packing till the last moment and moreover when now I am in my new house, I dont feel like unpacking. (I just realized that I might prefer buying some basic stuff again rather than unpacking)

3) The packing 'smarts': These are rarest (and ofcourse the coolest) of the breed who will get up at 1 in the afternoon on the d- day, start packing when everybody has finished and literally outsource the shifting to the other flatmates (no costs attached of course). In this case the second biggest shock (and I will come to the biggest shock later) of the whole packing was that this flatmate of mine litreally had twice the amount of luggage the rest of us combined had and yet he was not half as bothered.


 So, all packed and done we waited for the truck which finally arrived one hour late, uploaded our stuff in another half and stood on our colony footpath for another hour and half for the 'Delhi no-entry' to open and finally travelled 12 kms in the same truck to reach our dream house which suddenly (and this was the biggest shock) started appearing an inhabitable place to live. The same house which looked fine earlier now seemed like an inhospitable and depressing jailhouse. I dont know what had made me finalize it (maybe because we had 3 day to be thrown out and I have this gorgeous habit of postponing everything to the last moment, which has actually become my core competency, but about that in some later blog). So we entered the house at 9:30 at night and at 9:32 at the same night I had decided to start looking for new houses. (Actually we got that house through a contact and hence luckily there was no brockerage involved. Moreover it will be easier to find better houses in the same area now that we have moved here and I can give ample time to the broker to look for better houses. Finally, now I know what all NOT to do while shifting houses and the first mistake came at very low costs).
And the best thing out of all is that now when I anyway have to move in the next couple of days, I don't need to unpack!!

It's just another color!

Now before I actually ask you the question, I want to; let me tell you that although I have lived in Gujarat for a considerable amount of time, yet technically I have never lived 'enough' to form an opinion about the place and the society. I have spent a large slice of my teens here but since the last few years most of my visits to this state have been rather short and even when here, I have stayed all the time at my home and rarely tried to go out. So for the past 5-6 years, I have rarely been out enough to be able to observe or notice people so that I could ask you the question that I actually want to. Occasionally, on a brief visit to market or malls I used to get the suspicion but that, till now, was not substantial enough to ask you that question. Then fortunately I got a job here that made me stay in the state for around a month, and all the time I spent here, and all the people I saw here, I became more and more sure of asking you the question that I am actually about to ask you.....

What is with the men in the state of Gujarat and pink shirts!!......

....... They seem to be all over them. Among all the states that I have stayed ( and there are about 4-5 states where I have spent a considerable amount of time) nowhere have I seen the fascination for pink shirts more pronounced in men. In Gujarat you will meet men wearing pink shirts with white collar and sitting at the counter of a garments shop!! I was earlier working for this engineering and constructional major and was sent to their corporate office for training and the moment I used to enter the office, ( and believe me, I am not exaggerating ) I used to see all shades of pink shirts all around me. There would be a light pink shirt reading newspaper at the reception. Then there would be another reddish-pink shirt entering the office. You get into the canteen and you will see a pink striped shirt and a pink checked shirt eating food together only to be joined by a dark pink shirt carrying his food plate. Not only that, I also realized that there were people repeating the same pink shirt every 3-4 days, meaning either they loved them or had two of them!!

I remember going to a garment store in one of the popular malls in Vadodra and demanding an official shirt only to be surprised with being offered a shining pink. When I politely asked for another color ( and preferably a white or a light blue ), I was asked how many pink shirts do I have. I answered that I was unfortunate enough never to be tempted by it. So the shopkeeper asked me why don't I get a pink one. When I replied that I was not that desperate for a promotion from my boss to buy a pink shirt, the shopkeeper told me that this is Gujarat and yahan yeh sab color chalta hai. When I asked a 'pink-shirted' guy, why was he wearing a pink, he said he liked the color and had many more pink shirts and that even I should get some as the color would suit me ( wtf....!! ). When I asked a girl about the guys wearing pink here, she said she simply did not have an issue with it.

So the first thing is what is the problem? I have a friend who has interned in Germany and tells me that the guys there are so secure about their sexuality that they don't mind wearing pink. But here that is not the case. The whole point is that people here simply don't know!!

The second thing is why is it a problem and why am I being so fussy about a mega pink shirt bonanza proliferating in the state of Gujarat. So let me tell you, that anybody like me who has a sister studying in one of the premier fashion technology institutes in the country, better be aware of what he is wearing. In the year 2004 ( when I was supposedly innocent ), I had bought a Rs 900 redish-orangish shirt for myself ( OK.... It was pink! ) from a Delhi showroom. The first time I wore it was in front of my sister, which resulted in me being called 'Pinky-boy' the whole day with added suggestions that I should throw the shirt away. But unfortunately the 900 bucks made me ignore the suggestions and I again wore it to my college in Delhi. Whatever happened then would be difficult to explain in words but you can make sense from the fact that:
1) I had my class from 8 to 12 that day, so there were no chances of going back to hostel, changing the shirt and coming back
2) I never wore that shirt again.

So here I was looking for vengeance on a soul to take out my frustration. For years I searched for men whom I knew and had accidentally put on a pink shirt. But I found none in Delhi or in Mumbai or in Rudrapur or in Lucknow. And finally when I got a whole herd of pink shirt gujratis, there is no one to support me in making fun of them. In fact people think I am a freak making fun of their prestigious pink shirts.

On the whole the lesson learnt from the brief Gujarat stay was 'ignorance is bliss' since although any other guy at any other place would think more than twice before wearing a pink shirt, this pink parade is coming from a state having reported the highest number of extra marital affairs and establishment of condom vending machines during navratri. Hopefully one day I will see some of my IIT friends who are working in Gujarat or studying at IIM-A wearing pink. Finally we will have something more to learn from this place than money making and stock markets.

Alcovirginity

As he held the bottle of Absolut Vodka in his hands... he heard this voice for the zillionth time in that day. 'Again...why am I doing this?' He could clearly remember his friend telling him,' to get the best effect, start with a glass of beer and then go for the shots, otherwise it would become to difficult for you to handle. You won't like to screw up the first time you decide getting drunk!'

But for him, this act was more like a psychological experiment than just about getting drunk. He always used to be the 'coke and pineapple juice guy' in all the booze parties. 'Dude.. why don't you drink??' was the most common question asked to him in those flashing lights in Disc bars by friends who were on their third glass or maybe more. 'Hmm.. interesting question. Let me see it this way. Why should I drink?'
'Because it's fun dude. It is the ultimate bliss. Your inner self comes out. For you forget everything, and be what you want to be, say what you want to say, do what you want to do.'
'Hehe.. see thats the point. I don't want my 'inner self to come out. Maybe I am too complicated to handle that.'
'Stop this shit yaar, here, try the first sip from my glass'
'Ohh.. so you too are a 'try first sip from my glass' kind of guy, trying to gain psychological satisfaction of having made somebody take the first step towards dependency for life. So, after this first sip if I ask for more, you can be happy for the entire night with each shot that I take, that whatever I am doing is because of you!!'
' Get lost then, if you think you are so fucking complicated'


However today, as he sat in his living room alone holding the vodka and beer bottle, with a video camera running and taping all his movements, the prime reason was his complicatedness. For years he had wondered at his own unpredictability, identity crisis and failure to understand what makes him do things that he actually does. For once he wanted to know, 'what lay inside him' , 'who was he' and maybe to get drunk was the best way.

He poured the first shot and gulped it. He could feel his throat burning and a bitter taste in his mouth. He could remember the taste similar to the pulse polio drug taken in his childhood. 'Wait, pulse polio!! Am I drunk in a single shot?' He poured another but suddenly he started feeling the resistance to take it. As if his mind was pitching a battle against its disclosure. But he forced the shot in his throat. Surprisingly, this one tasted better. With a dizzy head, he looked at the light of the video camera placed in his book shelf, a place he had chosen so that maybe it might stays away from his own eyes when he is drunk.

He rested his back on his couch and picked the bottle to pour another one. Just then it occured to him that he must get somebody to talk to him to get the best out from the situation. Maybe there is no point in this whole thing if there is nobody to actually make him talk.
'Wow! I am so intelligent when I am drunk.'
He needed somebody good enough to handle him and the situation and he knew the exact person for that. He picked up his cell and dialed her number.
'Hello' came the voice from the other side.
'Hii.. listen. To begin things, I am slightly drunk'
' O..K..'Waise that is pretty apparent from your voice.Define slightly.
'That is not the point. You know I never drink. The reason why I did is... (again...why did I do this?). Yeah.. I remember. You know I always used to say that I have surpassed the limits of complicatedness and I really want to know, who actually am I, what goes inside my head. So this is like the only way I can know that. It is like an experiment. So if you can come here and make me talk, that would really help.'
'You are impossible. As I see it, it looks like an excuse to get drunk. I am seriously not interested'
'Cmon.. you are the only friend I have'
'See.. I am running very busy now. I don't know if I will be able to make it. Bye'

As he put the phone down, the shots had started having some good effect on him. 'Bitch, what does she think of herself. I need another shot. 'He poured another one, then another one and thats the last he remembered....

--------------------------------------------------------

He opened his eyes and his head started paining like hell. He wanted to know where he was. But he did not seem to have the energy. He closed his eyes again and everything became all right.

---------------------------------------------------------

He could hear his phone ringing. He opened his eyes. He could see the bright sunlight in his room. He somehow managed to grab the phone. It was her. He suddenly remebered his last night's booze and the phone call.
'Hi... were you able to make it last night then. What all did I do?'
'you dont remember anything!'
'No... not one thing'
'Yeah...actually I called to apologize. I could not make it. This work is taking the hell out of me. I am sorry.'
'Its fine.... chal I think I need to go back to sleep'

Just as he put the phone down, he saw the video cam. He recalled having put it there. It's battery had run off. He took out the tape and put it on play. It began with the first shot and the second. The he could see the phone conversation. Then began the shot extravaganza. 'Wow.... I managed four. No wait.... five!!' Just then he heard the door bell ringing. As he saw himself getting out of the camera frame to open the door, he wondered who came last in night. Just then he saw her appearing in the camera frame.

'What... she was here! But then why didn't she tell me.'

They began talking on some arbitrary topic, with her telling him, how drunk he looked. Topics rolled from office to how gorgeous she was looking. But then he saw himself doing something, he could not have imagined in the wildest of his dreams. In the next fifteen minutes he heard himself telling her the feelings he had for her. Moreover, the 'drunk' him convinced her in such a flawless way, he could never have done in his senses!! As he saw her on the tape, believing every lie after lie he was telling her, he realized where everything was going. It was not long that the camera showed them kissing each other passionately in a way he would never remember having learnt from anywhere. And as the clothes went off, everything that he saw thereafter made good sense to him why she lied to him on phone.

Finally from an analyst point of view, it was an interesting experiment. The drunk took advantage of the non-drunk. He had two of his 'first times' last night, and he could not recall any one of them. Finally as for the whole 'Who am I' thing the only result that can be interpreted was.. he was complicated.

Intutius' Guest Post

Not another girl post on thoughtspot!! But then you can't stop Intutius from writing on this topic. Moreover, it would have been a crime to ask him to write his typical post and not expect anything on girls.
On a personal note, I really think that the type of girl mentioned in this blog (hot, intelligent and Atkin loving) is kind of rare. Hopefully this is his imagination or otherwise I need to know more people in IIT [:P]. As for 'We can be friends since you have done the MEL120 assignment', well sure.. I have personally experienced it many times.
- Achintya

( Intutius aka himanshu writes for 'Intuiting Life' . You can read more of his posts @ intutius.wordpress.com)
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First day at college. @ Orientation Function.
(IIT Boy sees a hot girl sitting at front desk)
IIT Boy: {Wow… what a chick!! I knew this place would be awesome… Let’s begin.} Hieee..!! Myself Chirag. (Smiles) What about you?
IIT Girl: {Ohh God!! Yet another! This one’s third since the morning. Why these boys don’t mind their own business and disturb me? I’ve got to listen to this orientation and know about the labs and professors out here.} 2008CH70312.
{Boy gulps his saliva and decides to try once more.}
IIT Boy: Can we be friends? {Ohkk… this girl may be rude, but she’s hot too.}
IIT Girl: Are you in computer science? {I should be loving CS boys ‘coz my senior told me they generally score a good CGPA, get good jobs and moreover they are dumb too.}
IIT Boy: No.
IIT Girl: {Then Fuck Off!}
(Girl is back to her work.)


After one semester:
IIT Boy: Hieee!! How you doing? {She’s still hot!!}
IIT Girl: Great. My CSL assignment is complete and I’ve just finished my second revision of Atkins. My life rocks!! {I am very happy.}
IIT Boy: {I should gulp my saliva again.} Hey may I ask you a thing if you don’t mind..??
IIT Girl: {Oh God!! I wish he didn’t ask me the formula of critical ambient temperature, I’ve skipped it in my revisions.} Ya sure.
IIT Boy: Do you have a boyfriend?
IIT Girl: {Is he asking about a boy-friend or a boyfriend? I am confused.} No.
IIT Boy: {Yipeeee!!!!} Any crushes? Ok tell me who was your first crush?
IIT Girl: {Should I tell him about H.C. Verma?} What’s a crush?
IIT Boy: {Where’s my saliva?}
IIT Boy: Can we be friends?
IIT Girl: Is your CGPA greater than 8.22? {My CG is only 8.22, I desperately need to raise it this semester.}
IIT Boy: No. {It’s 5.8.}
IIT Girl: {Then fuck off… again!!}
IIT Girl: Wait… have you completed your MEL120 assignment? {The deadline is tomorrow.}
IIT Boy: {No.} Yes.
IIT Girl: Sure… we can be friends.
IIT Boy: Thanks. {I should start making my assignment now.}


At Barista
(The boy finally manages to take the girl out on a date at Barista Café just situated just in front of IIT Main Gate.)
IIT Boy: You’re looking great. {Just look at her cleavage man!!}
IIT Girl: {I know.} Thanks.
IIT Boy: So tell me what can I have you? Amor Frappe? Hazelnut Cappuccino?
IIT Girl: No, I would rather take Iced Tea. {It contains antioxidants and alkaloids.}
(Half an hour later)
IIT Boy: I wanna say something… {Now I can’t hold it anymore. I’ve got to propose her now.}
IIT Girl: {Oh God! Does he want me to share the bill !} Yes?
IIT Boy: I Love You. (Bends on his knees) Will you be my girl?
IIT Girl: {Oh God! I’d rather shared the bill.} Umm..well… I’m sorry.
IIT Boy: {Oopsss!!!}
IIT Girl: {I love you too … but I’m not allowed to date. I’ve got my assignments, projects and practicals. I wish I could have some more time.}
IIT Boy: Ok… then let’s share the bill…
IIT Girl: {Yeah..} Yeah.
(And so how it ends. The boy surrenders and decides to stop trying while the girl scores 8.65 that semester. Isn’t that so much for this happy ending..? :P )

***
PS – No offense made. :P
PS – Thanks Achintya for the space in Thoughtspot. (And sorry for so so late utilization of it.)
PS – Summers in Delhi suck!
PS - I guess I should get some water.
PS - Adieu.

Hottie-culture

Scene1
You are with a friend in a lift. Both of you are waiting to reach the top floor. It is a quiet moment and both of you are not even bothered about each other’s presence. Just then the lift halts, the door slides open and you see a sizzling hot girl enter the lift. The door closes and everything gets quite again, except the fan which of course goes on making this humming noise. But now you realize that everything has changed. You keep on looking at the girl, and then for a brief moment look at your friend to check if both of you are on the same page. He too looks back at you and the mental conversation starts..
‘Dude, check out the girl’
‘Yeah, she is hot!’
‘God is great’
‘Yeah… hope the lift never stops’

Scene 2
It’s a beautiful day. You enter the coffee house for a client meet. You are young, ambitious and focused. You are getting to take big tasks at a very early age. You are enthusiastic and thankful.
‘God, I Love my job’
The client arrives and the conversation starts. Everything is going fine. He is listening to your deliverables. Just then the door opens and the sizzling hot girl enters the coffee house. Suddenly you realize that you cannot kill the eye contact, have a good look at the girl and prove to your client that you are a perv. You start feeling helpless. By now, all he is saying has stopped making sense, or maybe you have stopped listening. Now it is just a bald head and moving lips. You pray to god for a miracle to happen, but she grabs the coffee and leaves. The door closes and it is still the bald head and the moving lips.
‘God, I Hate my job’

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Technically speaking takes around five seconds to check out a girl properly, three with practice. And although the society does not think very highly of this act, but let me tell you it is not that simple. If you are from a decent family, studying in the country’s premier engineering institute, you cannot act like the rogue standing at a local panwari shop and make noises at girls ( which by the way is eveteasing and I am in no way supporting it in this blog) . For him, it is a very easy job and that’s how the entire practice gets labeled as a mal practice. But for us it has to be casual and decent as there is always a risk of getting caught staring. Now although I am sure that none of us think very highly of this act but then it can't be helped. It comes as an instinct. By the time you realize, you have done it and you end up feeling like a pervert.

However, how much lousy this act be, every man does it irrespective of age and status. In fact if somebody doesn’t then he should seriously question his sexuality (or testosterone secretion). Sometimes this 'checking-out' act becomes so challenging that it can give people an adrenalin rush. For example during cultural festivals like Rendezvous when suddenly the whole IIT wasteland gets lighted up with gorgeous women moving in groups of 4-6, you realize that it becomes impossible to check out all of them together. You obviously can’t hold your look on one and then move to another and then the third. That could get you killed. And what if you are walking past this group of women. That practically gives you 5-8 seconds to check them out, which technically speaking is beyond the potential of human scanner.

Let me tell you that like any other educated person who thinks highly of females, I too despise the checking out practice. However on a second thought it might not appear so ‘animal’. Just think, maybe on some level this checking out is a sign of admiration. The ‘Hot’ designation does not come easy. One has to work hard to achieve it, stay away from cravings and spend hours in front of mirror. So checking them out is a way to pay homage to their dedication and sacrifice. In fact would these so called hot girls, who spend hours in gym and a fortune in dresses and make up, like if nobody looks at them. It is guys like us, who are indirectly promoting the fitness, cosmetic and fashion industry and let’s face it, we are their driving force. History gives us evidences that women have ruled the world with their beauty. It is one domain you people own. So in a way ‘checking out’ is like promoting feminism.

Personally, my feelings for these ‘hot girls’ is more of respect than admiration. And the day I would actually get to talk to one of them, I would like to ask her, how she copes with so much pressure of literally having a control on so many things. Just think, in an examination hall, a ‘hot girl’ enters and chooses a front table, which changes everything for the guys who would now like to position themselves in a favorable location, which changes everything for the class dufus who was completely relying on copying from his friends, which changes everything for the class topper as all his favorite front seats have now been occupied , which changes everything for the girl who hates him and wanted to sit nowhere near him and ultimately everybody ends up performing differently.

Maybe one day Marvel and DC comics would realize the 'hot -girl' power and might develop a character out of it. By the way if they do, they better give the 'checking-out' power to the super villian otherwise as things are going, the hot-girl power might become unsurpassable.

The Beggar Blog

No, I am not obsessed with the down trodden and the poor in this country. So, if my previous post was about the 'bais' and this about the beggars, that doesn't mean I have developed some sort of liking towards the backward class. It is just that I am getting to observe some newer sides of the society.

When as a child the first time I would have seen a beggar, the first impression would have been less of annoyance or pity, but more of curiosity, 'Why doesn't he earn it on his own instead of asking for it?' Surprisingly, that's a question for which even today I am finding an answer. Although the beggar community constantly keeps on trying to give me reasons, like I am blind, lame, old etc, but then they are hardly reasons. I have seen disabled people working, selling stuff in trains, polishing shoes or any other small business. So although the reasons might be genuine in some cases; but in a vast majority, they are just fraud marketing.

So let’s face it, begging is a profession. The purchases in this segment are impulse based. Somewhat the same as you spend your money on an alpenliebe or hajmola candy. You have never planned it before hand, it takes a fraction of a second to make a purchasing decision and the satisfaction just lasts for a minute or two and then it’s all forgotten. Now, coming back to my first memory of beggars, I remember my parents telling me to ignore them and that they are just a bunch of lazy people who don't want to work and earn money sitting. At that time it was difficult to digest the orders to ignore a poor man who was looking so pathetic, but with time I evolved and hardened my attitude towards them. But surprisingly they evolved too and changed their sales strategies. By the time I got comfortable with ignoring a lazy man sitting with a cup, they had poor children and women 'touching' you in railway station platforms or traffic light to get the money out of you in annoyance.

As an impulse, it might seem that for a business model that demands just one or two rupees from your pocket, spending that much is worth it to get rid of the sleazy stinking person standing in front of you. But then lately they too realized that this aggressive 'push' strategy was actually a mistake and that you can't fight with your customer's ego. So they changed that too. Now they are using 'pull' strategies, that is we don't want to beg, we are not beggars, we agree with you that it is a profession of lazy burdens on the planet, but what can we do, circumstances have led us to do this. But it is only momentary. The moment we get over it, we will be back in business, working hard to get back on our lives.

Now that sounds more convincing, but how are they doing it? On traffic light a woman approached me with a doctor's prescription saying she needed money for her husband's medicines. I would have given her money, and then I noticed that the date on the receipt was two months old. I asked her, why don't you update this, it would fetch you more money. She said nothing and turned away to the next vehicle! But then I realized it was a good strategy and she could have fooled anyone and many other beggars would be using the same at other traffic lights in other cities. But interestingly there is a clear cultural divide between beggars of metros and beggars of tier 2 cities. The Delhi beggars have evolved to such convincing ways, while beggars in my Bharuch are still relaxing on platforms with a cup in hand.

Whatever may be the case, every time a beggar approaches, I (and I am sure that must be the case with all of you) feel hard to convince myself to ignore that guy. On one hand I might be refusing a person really needing money, and on the other I might be encouraging such a profession. But then how many times have you heard a beggar dying of hunger. It is the hard working man who is too proud to beg that dies out of sickness or hunger. And what convinced me to this was a little incident a friend told me. She believed in 'you give a man a fish and you feed him for once and you teach him how to fish, you feed him forever theory' and hence when a girl approached her for money, gave her an address where she would get work . The girl asked, how much would this pay in a month.

"Two thousand", she replied.

"I make five thousand per month”, and went away.

The Haircut chronicles

I just spent 120 bucks on a haircut and it's not the first time I have done that. After all I belong to a middle class family and although I enjoy the luxury of GATE scholarships as my other friends and love spending the money which I think is much- much more than what anybody deserves for clearing an easy exam and spending negligible time per week on TAship, however spending 120 bucks on somebody giving 20 minutes with scissors on my hair is definitely not worth it, especially when anyway, anyhow I get a haircut from anywhere, I will find my friends laughing at me on my face the next day.

The reason why I am forced to get a 120 haircut is not because I dont have a choice. I do have a choice, but the choice is between a Rs 20 ber sarai nukkar nai and the 120 hair cut shop. Now the problem with Rs 20 haircut is that the guy knows just one hair cut style and he will make your head appear as if you are wearing a helmet; and the day I would like to appear as if I am wearing a helmet, I will get a real helmet. There must be other shops too, but I am too lazy to find one. But still, 120 is too much yaar, even though I get a air conditioned room, a nice chair to sit and some occasional chicks to watch. You can get a meal in Mc Donald's for less than that, added to which you do get a air conditioned room to eat there, you get a good chair to sit and you do get to see more chicks and you know what else, when you are done eating, nobody would come to you and ask you to pay and get lost (the guy at the hair cut shop won't allow me to stay a minute longer)

Just think of the logic behind haircut. A particular species one fine day found out that it had dense black thread like material growing at the top of its head. Now that species was intelligent enough to observe that although it had the same thread like material growing all over its body at various places, however at most of the places it could either be covered with robes or grew at a slower rate except the head where it just went on and on and hence it decided to take care of this thing. Although I am sure that this consciousness came a bit late in the species as you don't see early man pictures with haircuts.

What makes me wonder is that whether it was looks or inconvenience that made men start getting a haircut. Socrates used to get one, if you see his pictures, although he kept his beard. Alexander, Ceaser all got haircuts. Also if you see pictures of people in civilized Europe in that era, they were all keeping their hair short, hence maybe at that time short haircut became a symbol of masculinity. There was a clear demarcation; long hair: women, short hair: men. Whereas in India, men in ancient times were still comfortable with long hair. Pictures of Buddha, Shiva, Chandragupta Maurya and even chola kings show that they all kept relatively long hair that perhaps did not require any professional hair cutting. Perhaps the first hair style revolution in India might have been brought by the British which all seemed to have the same 'left parted' hair style. This era also marked the 'minima' of average hair length of Indian youth as after that we were overtaken by the hippie culture and the hair lengths suddenly started growing again. After that we were taken over completely by bollywood with Amitabh Bachchan of Zaanzeer, Sanjay Dutt of Rocky or Amir Khan of Ghajini deciding our hairstyle.

Maybe a hair cut is more than trimming of an unrequired body material growing out of our skull. It serves the purpose of posing ones identity. You can represent that you are neat, shabby, gay (kidding!), geeky, stylish, inspired, don't care, artistic with your hair style. How much you spend on your hair also represents your lifestyle and lifechoices (which btw is quite the opposite in my case, where it is a function of my laziness and narrow pool of database). Hairstyles have a glorious history where celebrities and world leaders have given people courage to try something different. And supposedly it is these hair styles that have promoted the nukkad naees to the post of har stylist and made them rob people of money.

I in particular find these hairstyles vary confusing and I am proud to confront that I am one of those that preferring playing safe. Getting a hair style changed is a risky affair. You dont know how you are going to look after the cut and its not like if you are not satisfied, the 'hair stylist' can paste your hair back. So for the next fortnight or more you are stuck with the dumb look. Hence I generally prefer getting a haircut at home when not in Delhi. My naee knows me for last eight years and he knows what hairstyle suits me and hence the whole procedure is a 'no questions' asked affair. I come, I sit & I go and its done, with nobody asking me whether I would like short or long hair, whether I would like parted or blunt etc.

So you see, history, celebrities and cultures might have influenced hair cuts but in my case it is sheer laziness, unbotheration and freedom of not being asked to take decisions. Maybe I would give this world a new reason for deciding hair cuts and barber shops. Maybe this blog would prove a milestone in the history of hair cuts. Maybe.

The 'J' word

It's nice to be back to blogging and its nicer (if that's a word) to be back to blogging after being employed. What surprises me most is that the reason why I stayed away from blogging was because I was too busy preparing for job season and as this being my 50th post, I wanted it to be special. And now finally after getting a job, I seriously don't think the whole job thing needed any preparation. For instance, the company that recruited me did not have a look at my resume and made my technical interview look like Latin. And although I fully respect the decision of company recruiters, I think the reason they might have preferred me was that I had lived in different parts of India ( and hence had very less location constraints) and because I had done shopfloor work during my intern.

Now here comes the fun part. Let's do a cost benefit analysis of the placement season. Now most of the things people do in IIT is for the reason of getting a good job. (And what is meant by a good job here is either Mc Kinsey or BCG because nobody is thinking below it right from the day they hear their name for the first time in their life till the day the shortlists of these companies arrive in the final year during placement season). The best way to make a junior work here is pave a path for him and show how doing that work would eventually help him getting a good job and he would be running to get the job done. So be it academics, plays, debates, sports, projects, college festivals, everybody has the 'J' word attached to it at the end. If you attach a 'why' to any activity done here, you will eventually end up to a job. Why are you studying; so that I get a good GPA, so that I get a good job. Why are participating in debates; so that it adds to my communication skills, so that I get a good job and it goes on.

Hence the benefit out of IIT placement season can be safely considered as 'a good job'. Now we arrive at the cost part. I must have spent some 3 weeks making the my resume which they ( the company that finally recruited me) did not look at. Two months went into Rendezvous Coordinatorship that they did not ask me about. Three months of project work which they failed to understand and two months of internship which I think finally got me the job. Hence out of the seven month three week of rigorous work which I tried to sell them, saying ' look, I am different from others!' got me 32K per month including perks. Compare this to the one week study I put in preparing for GATE exam that presently fetches me 8K a month and you will know why I writing this blog out of frustration.

So finally leaving the one thing I liked (its blogging btw) for job preparation was not such a good idea at all. You know these guys who give resume fundas to everybody, who tear apart every line of your resume and torment you into believing that your resume was good for nothing and that if you want a good job (see again we arrive on the 'J' word) you should put more time on your resume; such guys should be screwed and they should be screwed badly. This is because firstly these people torture you, and you think its fine to hear all the scolding and critical comments so that it would eventually help in getting a good job, but there you are, by the end on December, sitting on a job you never imagined you would be doing and blaming global economy for you loss. And what hurts most is that after day one of job scene, people rarely look at your resume. So probably it is the right time to think, whether your so called 'resume guide' was really worth listening.

I dont know whether I have actually been underrated due to this global economy thing or I really deserved this job. But the best part about this whole meltdown is, and I thank all those bankers who are responsible for this crash, that it has brought so much hope in people. People have got a reason to blame their losses. The one with a bad job thinks it was all because of these banking bastards that I got such a bad job. The one without a job thinks, 'had this global meltdown not been there, I would have definitely been in.' And the guy who gets a good job thinks, ' Nothing on this planet can stop me, not even a global meltdown.'


PS: Nothing above is meant to be serious. So guys I understand it is a tough time... just hang on. Anybody could have been in your place.

Food aur Sexx !

It is my one of my favorite parts in F.R.I.E.N.D.S where phoebe asks each one of guys that if they had too, would they choose food or sex. Although I am sure, not many will face the dilemma that Joey faced in the scene, but I think for most of us, it is going to be a tough call.

How many times in the day do we think about food? Do you work to eat or you eat to work? Technically nothing is wrong with the first. This is the job each one of millions of species on this biosphere does. Food gathering is the most common work on this planet. The first trade ever happened was for food and I am sure the first murder too would have happened for food.

What fundamentally is just a fuel for our body apparently has to do a lot more than that and I am sure the shrieking souls of thousands of royal cooks who were killed for pouring more than required salt in his highness curry would agree with me. It is the spirit of food that gives my beloved parents the reason to get engaged in their favorite hobby, that is, arguing with each other, be it the sugar in the tea, or number of cups of tea in a day, an accidental samosa gulped in an office party which was sensed by the spouse etc. etc.

Food is also a perfect mood setter. I have seen people watch Khana Khazaana (a popular cooking show) and never try the recipe just because they love watching the food cook and garnished. There are popular Marwari jokes where the person has just enjoyed the fragrance of sweets since it is free. Sometimes even a follower of the religion – fitness, like me, gulps a pizza when feeling blue. Similarly food has been used as bait since centuries. And if you are thinking of the bait you give fishes to eat, so that you can eat them, think of the free pizza you get on attending company pre-placement talks. A promise of a tempting chocolate is the only thing that gets my kid nephew to me. Though sometimes it gets a bit costly to fool my family into thinking that kids like me, but still, this trick has worked successfully for many years on both of my nephews. Now dont blame me for bribing a 3 year old. When I was a kid, my dad used the same idea when he took me for a haircut, so that I don’t cry the hell out and drive rest of the children away in the shop.

And likewise for many others, food is not just a bait to do the impossible or a mood stimulator, but also reason to live. At morning they are looking forward to breakfast, at noon to lunch and at evening to dinner. For many people that last sip of coke from the bottle, the last cookie from the packet, the last candy in the jar holds special meaning. Personally I think that gargling sound made when your straw has nothing to suck from the can is the most painful sound in the world.
So you see, for the most developed species on planet earth, food hold much more meaning than just fuel, and perhaps for people like Joey, feeling the difficulty in the discussion was completely justified.

Now coming to the other part, do I need to justify what’s so great about it. Moreover can I add any opinion about it. Believe it or not, but sex sells. Hopefully I am not putting ideas into hundreds in my campus planning to sell themselves to companies in upcoming placement season, but it truly, surely and sincerely sells. In marketing it is one of the two mantras for selling anything to youth (the other is freedom, remember your bike advertisements). And many marketers use it to sell their products. Take Axe for example which exhibits the nerdy guy, hot girl and Axe chemistry. In fact Axe uses nerd losers to gain emotional attachments from a majority of their target segments that is, if he can do it, then I surely can. Forget deodorant, even D-cold makes sure that you don’t sneeze in front of a girl, and surprisingly if you don’t you get the girl. You use our toothpaste, you’ll get a girl, you use our inner wears you get one, you use our shave gel, and girls would surround you. Not just that, you eat our biscuit, you’ll get a girl, you eat our pizza and you can propose to your boss (who is a girl). You wear our jeans and girls would come running to you. Surprisingly Indian marketers have just one job in mind for our women. Although in this taboo ridden society they stop at getting the girl stage, but we all understand what they are selling, and surprisingly, hardly any youth product stays away from this formula.

I don’t understand where this point of choosing between food and sex comes. I don’t think anybody is ever going to say, “so what if all the food on this planet is finished, then let’s have sex.” I am also sure that the news about vice versa would make many lose their appetite.
On that food for thought I rest my discussion

Frustu's Guest Post

We in IIT live a carefree life. And when we feel too lazy to write a new post for our webpage, we flatter a friend for his excellent writing skills and asks him to write a guest post for thoughtspot. I think it was the IIT faculty and the guest lectures that gave me this idea. But then asking a guy who writes sci fi; to write a post for thoughtspot can be a bit risky. Why, for that you'll have to read the post.

This is Frustu's version of the job and CV preparation season in IIT . After reading it, I loved it so much that I too have decided to write my own version of this CV making festival of IIT Delhi, which I'll be posting in next two days as a homeage to all those guys who died preparing the balance sheets of their screwed up life in IIT Delhi. So here is what Frustu writes..

The cold dark wind was beating against the glass windows with a mournful thump. That dull thud was the only sound breaking the hour-long silence that had blanketed the room for the last hour and a half. Inside the room, four young men with the red-shifted glimmer1 of receding hope in their eyes sat looking at a computer screen which seemed to loom much larger than its 17” diagonal justified. Their sharp minds, honed for years for calculation and optimization, were on the verge of giving up; going cuckoo seemed like such a pleasant escape. On the plus side, no one was worried about the minor’s coming up in three days.

Finally, Yuma found the courage to say something.

“What’s the point staring at it? We all knew this was gonna happen some day.”

He had spoken what was on everyone’s mind. Perhaps that was the reason for the dirty looks everyone gave him. But Yuma had never cared for such stares, the only kind of stares he had ever cared about were the ones he got in his childhood dreams in which he found himself standing in the middle of the school, stark naked. And even those stares had developed a positive side once puberty hit.

“Come on people, just try your best. You don’t need to fill up every column. And not every company cares about this stuff you know.”

Of course, that was only partially true. But like most humans, the people in that room lacked the courage to accept so quickly that they would have to settle for second, or even third, best. Yumo wasn’t a very brave man himself, but deep philosophical discussions over cheap whisky, aided by the occasional celebratory joint, had taught him to accept life as it came. Besides, there was this girl who had lately been exchanging scraps with him on orkut…

In another five minutes Yumo had given up trying to cheer the miserable bunch and was wondering if he could light his after-dinner smoke. That’s when Moddy spoke.

“Isn’t there some finance exam you can give in like a couple of days or so? I bet that would look good on our resumes.”

“Chhod na yaar, sab de rahe honge. Noone would care about it. Even champu junta has given three or four of those. Who would care about one lousy exam? And besides, do you really want them to ask finance questions in the interview?”

Of course he didn’t

“Till when can we give the GRE?”
Now Moddy had never touched alcohol, nor ever snorted toluene2 in the lab, so everyone was quite surprised to hear him suddenly talk about going for higher studies. Moddy was probably the most hardworking of them all, but his interest in research was about as non-existent as the PORs on his resume. Anyway, more dirty looks.

“Do we look like the kind of people who can go for a Phd?”
They didn’t, so Moddy shut up and decided to ask someone else about it. Maybe Rodo, the big nehli of the batch. He should know.

“What about CAT yaar…It’s not that tough you know.”
That was Dron, still reeling from a high 99s percentile in the last mock CAT. Well, it is tough. Especially when you have only two odd months left to prepare. Even tougher if you had not even applied for it, like Moddy. As a result, dirtiest looks ever. That is the problem with trying to cheer up intelligent people: they are too intelligent to believe in anything remotely optimistic.

“Maybe we can try off-campus, remember how Biju got into E&Y last year? And how Sakku got that amazing videogame making job?”
Now that, for a change, was true. Biju had been his roommate in first year, and not a very good one. That E&Y job had been very hard to digest for Liku.

The party seemed to cheer up a little. However, they weren’t the kind of people to know anyone placed in E&Y, or anywhere good for that matter. But intelligence had finally given up; it was optimism’s turn.

“Abey haan, seriously, that’s what we should do yaar. There were fifty seniors who passed out last year, and thirty-forty of our batchmates this year. I am sure one of them can get us an interview. That’s all we need yaar, just one interview….aage to dekh hi lenge.”

There were enthusiastic nods all around, even hints of smiles…and looks of deep contemplation as all of them tried to remember who was where, and how good their ‘scene’ was.

“Chal yaar, chill hai. We’ll find someone.”

“Ya sure, we will. We know so many people. ”

“Now, does anyone wants to see that Sparta spoof movie?”





1. Refer to the Doppler Effect.
2. Toluene snorting can reportedly give you a pretty good high. And it can be found abundantly in Chemical engineering and Biochem. Engineering labs. Of course, it is probably a carcinogen

Thou Shan't tell anybody

Try this psychological do-at-home experiment of mine. Pick up a girl who is the PA system of your college, school, colony etc ( there is always at least one everywhere) and one day in middle of conversation tell her, "Yaar there is something I wanted to tell specially to you. But please don't tell it to anybody." And then stop. She would make a serious face and somehow suppressing the charge and the excitement of a piece of news she would say, "Yeah, what's it about?" Then say, "leave it, I think it is not the right time......." And then watch her plead and beg for it. See I am not somebody desperately seeking for somebody's attention but you have no idea of the importance that you'll get from a person whom you might have rarely talked before.

Welcome to the oldest and the most common way of spreading news...gossip. Gossiping has been the most effective methodology of viral marketing before internet and it has been in our culture for years. Its a pity that the secret behind its success is that what journeys from one ear to another is never about the good of anybody. Its always about soiling somebody's image or something wrong that happenned, somebody's failure or stupidity. In short we love to hear bad.

For years gossiping has been majorly attached to women. I have never heard (or should I say overheard) my colony aunties speaking good about anybody else to each other and its worthless trying convincing anybody on this point. However now I feel that even men enjoy it a lot and never miss an oppurtunity to turn something into a gossip. Some time ago I was discussing with a friend, how another close common friend of our's had completely abandoned us the moment he got a girlfreind and how pathetic it was etc etc. and we went on and on till finally I realized the reason why women love gossiping so much. It is the ultimately satisfaction you can get from a conversation. Two people working towards a common purpose, adding bit by bit to a masterpiece . It is the World's most constructive, undebated converstation ever.

Another reason why I support gossiping is that it ultimately brings you in the circle of trust of another person. You gossip and everybody is all ears, something which brings gossip on an equivalent platform to conversation about girls or sex (in our men's world). Moreover I have seen people 'gossiping their way to the top'.Your gossip colleagues are part of your inner circle too. You never know the stingiest, cruelest face in your organization might have an eternal love for gossip. My school english teacher had such an apetite for cricket gossip that you just had to name a cricketer to take his mind off the textbook and make him talk for an entire period.

Moreover gossiping is an art and some people have a natural talent for it. A good gossiper leads a conversation and is welcomed everywhere. Gossip sells, be it in the form of Aaj Tak ( Dr. Armaan ki akad, Dawn ki chahhat) or delhi times. Unfortunately I suck at gossiping and I hate the look on the person's face who is getting bored when I try to gossip. So lately I decided to remain at the receiving end. But some people like my mom and sis are really good at it. They would tell me they find neighbourhood women peeking into other's houses through their windows in search of fresh news. I want to ask them what are they doing when they find those people peeking into other's house. But then what's the use spoiling your source of information. Afterall everybody loves gossips.

Gandi Baat

Recently I got to read some very bold and interesting views on abusive words or so called gaalis. It makes me realize that wherever I go, how many different cultures I see or places I visit, the one common thing that I'll always find is this use of these words. In fact I recently met a foreign exchange student who on being asked told me the only Indian words he had learnt till now were 'namaste', BC and MC. Its amazing that the activity or the body organs which are supposedly responsible for every birth on this planet are the originators of the offensive words of the highest degree. And of the 155 different languages we speak in north, central and western India, these 'BC' and 'MC' words have remained almost unchanged. Needless to say, the exchange student had done a smart job.

As a child, use of the slightest of offensive language at home used to leave my parent furious. 'Bewkoof' (foolish) and 'gadhe' (donkey) were the only word that would be tolerated and any surge of anger had to be let out with these words only. Even till today I have not heard my father using any other word beyond these two. So like all other good things in life, my exposure to gaalis came from school, where in 7th standard, having learnt from each other we used to be shouting 'asso' not knowing what it meant. With the time came new words and the knowledge that we had been using the older ones wrongly. Although I might have tried to refrain myself from this very vocabulary during my high school days, but then suddenly everything changed after coming to college where I saw people had discovered the most innovative use of these gaalis and they were not just limited to fights or heated arguments. They are used as synonyms for friend (aur 'bhen..##', kya kar raha hai aajkal), beautiful ( kya f@%k lag rahi thee wohh aaj), smart (yaar, pichhle do saalon mein tooh toh bada MC ho gaya hai), dont disturb me (maa mat chu@a), go to hell (maa chu@a) etc. etc.

Sometimes I think that this innovative out of the box usage of gaalis is more logical than the traditional usage in fights and rage. If in the heat of fury you say one of these words to someone, technically what harm does it do to him. You say something, the other person would say you something else as fortunately we have been bestowed with so many words in the 'offensive language vocabulary' that they are enough to last for hours and new terminologies are being invented everywhere and anywhere. Moreover both of them know that whatever you they squirting on each other is not true. Even some of them are logically and technically impossible. Take the case of MKL, if somebody's mother had been having a penis, how would he have been born! And lets face it, who knows the meaning of 'chu...' although it is the most popular of all. The fact is that as against the general perception it has nothing to do with female reproductive organ. It is an urdu word which means 'a fool'. That's a word even I was allowed to say as a kid at home!

Whatever be the case, we still use these gaalis everyday, everytime and every occasion. We use them when we are:
a) suspicious: Tum log kahin mujhe 'chu#@' tohh nahin bana rahe
b) demanding: Oye Bhen.. jaldi se 2 chai le ke a.
c) Inquisitive: Yeh kya 'chu@#pa' chal raha hai.
d) Reprimanding: Kaisa 'chu@#' hai yaar
e) Happy: BC.. meri scholarship badh gayi.
f) Sad: Kya bataoon BC, prof ne meri maar ke rakhi huee hai.
g) disappointed: F@#k.. I got a D in that course.
h) And of course when we are angry.

In fact I have never met anybody matured who doesn't use them and although we sulk and get nervous whenever we blurt them out in front of girls, but I am sure they must be using them too to some extent.In fact a few days when a friend's notification that my department is asking for an immediate submission of project reports on a short notice near final exams made me blurt out some offensive words about what the department should go and do to its mom (which is logically impossible again). By the time I realized what I had said, I was too late and embarrassed by this I apologized to her. But then it looked as if she didn't mind it. A twisted smile and reassuring eyes looked as if they said,'I think so too.'

PS: This is the post which I read sometime ago, now it seems like I haven't added anything new.

Greater Expectations!

After spending 4 years of what can be said as 'memorable' time in IIT, it is clear that my present fifth year of dual degree is not going to be as exciting. In my perspective IIT life is too short to be lived in four years and too long to be lived in five. A dual degree final year not only blesses you a life of boredom and loneliness but also adorns a 'grandfatherly' attitude in you when you think you are qualified for imparting your great experience of four years of IIT life to your juniors. Seriously, I can see that the dual degree life is no better than degree extension. In fact in some terms it is worse because in case of a degree extension at least for the first 2-3 years you don't know there is going to be a cruel fifth year too.

However my present desperation of getting out of the system is the urge of doing something new and different. The present scenario is too saturated for me. Any increase in GPA wont matter now as placements begun at the end of this sem, I consider myself too old for Hindi Samiti and too 'out of touch' for music club, academically I can't add anything to my department and Rs. 5000 a month scholarship appears too less. So you see there is nothing interesting left here to do except having the opportunity to find time to watch movies and sitcoms on LAN which honestly is not something I am proud of. However I don't think I share this desperation or agony of being able to do nothing 'interesting' with many of batchmates who might be happy doing nothing and taking this chill of fifth year life as a boon.

So this brings me down to the question that what is driving me restless and why can't I be content like them. Why I think the person who is a five pointer, an unknown in the hostel, who would not have lifted a single chair out of his room but is having a company of 3-4 friends with whom he can hang out every night is happier than me.
Most importantly is the cause of all mental agony, pain and dissatisfaction is the knowledge that you can achieve something, a good job,top college, good grades, top ranks in school, best CV, best girl etc. etc. Because the present happier lot seems to be the one who might have never desired it.

On a last note, I spent my school life fighting for that additional half or one mark that might put me ahead on the ranking list, never seeing how many were behind me but who was ahead of me. Never thinking that did that half a mark more really made me better than the other person. But I did that. Now when I see back, I realize that all that effort spent in fighting, all that dissatisfaction of not being 'first' in class, all that urge to stay ahead never mattered. Life would have been the same without them.

Butterscotch

"What makes you think I am anti feminist?" He asked with the last sip of coke left. "You just said it!"She replied still working on her pasta.
"When did I say I am an anti feminist? I just said I am not a feminist. Its like, I might be against US attack on Afghanistan, does that make me Osama Bin Laden?"
"It's not the same! "She argued. She had forgotten the food and was staring hard at him. He looked at the beauty spot half an inch above her upper lip and thought how beautiful she was. The color of her eyes matched perfectly with the black dress she was wearing. "God these girls know how to dress for the occasion."
But now the same eyes assisted by the popping vein were demanding an answer.

He said "I know, Its not the same. See, Its just that I think what is the need for them to be equal? Why does this point of comparison arise. Why does there need to be a better among them? There are somethings men are good at. There are others where women are, and how much men try, they wont excel in such areas. So where does the point of ' who is better' comes. Its like...hmm... this garlic bread and pasta. You needn't say which is better, its the flavor the combination gives that matters."
"Hmm... keep going. You sound logical. You know, even I am not that feminist type. I somehow agree with you."She said, picking up the bread from the basket. This brought a smile on his face. The truce had worked and there was peace. He continued, "Its that I feel in some way women get privileges which seem so unjust. By the name of feminism they keep on getting undue advantages. When I was a small boy, and there used to be a guy-girl fight in the class, the guy used to be booed at if he hit a girl, since he was hitting a "girl" and if the girl hit him, still everyone made fun of him, since he was beaten by a girl. So you see there used to be no way out. C'mon if these feminists want equality, why consider this ungentlemanly when you are down in the arena."

"See I knew, you were like that. And all you men are like that. Its not about equality in the weird sense you are talking, its equality about rights and opportunities. " The vein returned and bread was dropped on the plate.
Damn.... It was a trap. "But.. but you just said, you were not that feminist type. You lied..?"
"Of course.. or how would I have known. Do you have any idea for how many years women have been tormented. They were kept as prisoners at home. They were not allowed to leave, kept in ghoonghats, duppattas, burkas and all that bullshit. In medieval Europe any woman who raised voice or tried to break away was declared a witch and burnt alive. And when finally we come up, its men like you who have no respect for women and no respect for all the struggle. Do you know how difficult it is for working women to manage home, children as well as work specially when the man in the house would never step in the kitchen to help out the women in preparing dinner."
"And even if he does, within half an hour you'll drive him away simply because you won't be able to adapt with the way he would work. Would you tolerate him as the manager of your kitchen? No, you would always require an assistant and it would be either your way or the highway."

Between this nobody had noticed that desserts had arrived and the butterscotch scoop had formed a pool around it.

He continued. "And in the entire conversation when did I say I had a problem with the women upliftment. In fact I appreciate it and heartily admire women who manage home as well as work. I have always admired my mom for taking care of us as well as maintaining a balance with her professional life and I must say she and many other women I have seen, are excellent time managers. And as for this 'rise' of women, well I am indifferent to it and don't really care. What bothers me is the itch for equality that you women show at each and every aspect possible. If men go to border to fight, women wanna go to; and this would create an endless debate. If men drive auto rickshaw, women would too, and they get their photographs all over the front pages. However when it comes to ladies seat in a DTC bus, you would never miss a chance to claim it. Its a pity that dragged in this itch for equality, you actually forget the things you are better at than men."

"Its not an itch but the need to show every man who has kept his wife financially dependent, grabbed asses or made vulgar noises at girls thinking they would never hit back; that we can do everything that you can."

He looked at her dessert. She hadn't touched it. Her melted ice cream looked like the date presently, totally wasted.

But she had more. "You waste half an hour over this discussion and say you are indifferent about our ascension? Let me tell you what, you indifference shows your fear and your irritation. We grab your jobs, your college seats. We give you competition. We are your bosses. And you simply are loosing whatever you had to us. Its no longer your domain, your kingdom. We share it too and thats what you fear. And when women prove themselves equal you call it the equality itch."

There was a brief silence when the waiter got the bill.

"You see the fat marwari woman sitting on that table, wearing that costly necklace and earrings. What do you think about her?" He asked while reaching for his wallet.
" What do you mean?"She looked in no mood for a change of topic. "No just tell me". he persisted.
"Well, she is not old, her makeup is overdone and with that heavy necklace and earrings she is desperately trying to look beautiful. Now whats your point?"
"Nothing, just that her profile is like as if its constantly saying, I am pretty, I am pretty. But a beautiful woman like you would never do that. I hope you know why."

This time it was a much longer silence. The waiter came and collected the bill.

Finally came the verdict."I would be leaving now, goodbye"said the judge.
" Goodnight"said the accused.


P.S. This link

Barista

He was out there on the road, and he could see her coming. The moment he saw her he started sweating. That always used to happen. And he will have to get over it. He had rehearsed this again and again, and this time it had to come right.

"Cmon, she is just another person, like you, like everybody. Why do you think she would call you a jerk"

"Go, get her tiger! This is the time. ...No wait! What am I doing?! Why did I think of this in the first place, I was doing it so fine all by myself."

"Just turn and go away, just turn and go away. No need to face her and this would go normal like another day of your life"

" Another day of your life as a loser, where you can't even say this to a girl?? What if she says no... it will be fine, You'll just move on. Just be casual "

"Go.. No.. Go... No...Go."

"So be it!" He took a long breath and started moving towards her, with each step getting heavier then the previous one. It appeared to him as everyone was watching him, judging him in some way. Now he had reached so close that there was no turning back.All he could hear was his heartbeat banging his eardrums. All he could see was her innocent face staring right towards him. And then everything went silent,as if the world stopped.......

He forcible swallowed whatever saliva he could manage in his already dry mouth, took a deep breadth and finally asked,"Behenji, aapke paas maachis milegi?"



P.S: Dedicated to all those guys who goofed it up...

P.P.S: To all those who thought," There was something I wanted to talk to you, would you like to have have a cup of coffee with me sometime?" would have been an appropriate ending, well.... my friends... there are somethings that work and certain things that dont.

Autorickshaw Diaries II

Photographs are a wonderful way of capturing moments, so dear to your life. There are certain photographs that make you realize the astounding progress this country has made in the last decade. Like this one ( taken near a temple):



Then there are others that make you realize that once upon a time, you used to be another source of entertainment for your parents. Like this one:



Which was just the reason I had put this pic in my orkut profile. Or there are those that make you feel nostalgic about the wonderful time you had spent with your beloved friends who were once like your family, like this one:





However there was one pic that I'll never forget. But that was during the school time. The pic that made an unknown guy like me, some sort of celebrity in the school (actually I didn't use to be an unknown guy, I said that just to increase the threshold). That pic circulated from my friends to my class teacher, to my sports teacher, to all other teachers. And people whom I had never met came to me asking to have a look. School bullies became best friends and for that period of time this ruthless world started seeming like a nice and cozy place to live in. Now that was ninth standard, so whatever I am going to tell you now might not appear to be a big deal, but it was a big deal when we were that young.

So It was a fine day, fine morning, everything appeared normal, sun rose from east, I caught my school bus, reached school, everything went as usual. Then came the recess, everything seemed fine till then. After that suddenly everything changed. It was when that girl approached me. " You have been called by ma'am in the class". Now when they say,'You have been called by ma'am', that too during recess, you expect to see just one representative of Satan in hell ( I mean classroom), but when I reached the class I saw at least two dozen faces, belonging to the girls in my class and of course my class teacher, giggling at me, the moment I entered.

At this point I would like to add just another fragment to the story, that had happened few days ago. Our school had launched a pen friend program, with some school in Britain, and two girls, for some reason I haven't been able to figure till today, had chosen me as their pen friend. Of course our teacher had asked us to reply their pen mails asap along with our photographs to take the friendship to the next level.

So that's what had happened, the replies had come from Britain, and with the reply, the photographs of our pen friends. And one of my pen friend had sent her photograph in a bikini. Well after having a hard time convincing my class teacher (and my mom at home) that the photograph I had sent them earlier, did NOT have me in my swimming trunks, life became busy the moment I stepped out of the class. It was the moment I realized the speed and efficiency with which females can spread a news. I had people coming from everywhere, asking to have a look at the pic. For some time I felt like a supplier of adult movies, I think I should have charged those people. And then there were some special people like my sports teacher, who asked for the pic, had a good look, and then said, "tuchh tuchh, kaisee foto khichwaati hain wahan pe ladkiyan."
Ok Sir, eat my candy and then spit it on me.

Unfortunately, after a few days when everybody lost interest, I kept that pic somewhere and totally forgot about it and this is the reason I cannot show you people one of the most popular photographs of my schooldays. However the fun part is that almost nobody bothered or asked about the other pic of the other girl (there were 2 pen friends, and hence two photographs.) And well I dont think I would have shown that pic to anybody even if they had asked me. For me that pic was more special, and i think for me, it was nothing as compared to the other popular pic. Well when it come out to driving people crazy, it need not be bikini every time.... :-)

Jaag jaa Fuchche

Political season in IIT Delhi is at its peak. It is the night before the D-Day (the D-Night). I am roaming in the wings, talking to my wide awake wing mates. At 5 o'clock I head for Nescafe. I am sleepy, frustrated. After spending some time there I trace back my path to the hostel and wait for the morning. And If you are thinking what I am, then No, I am not into politics, has absolutely nothing to do with this political season. Not even excited about it. Even if I had stayed away from every single piece of poltu news, nothing would have changed.

So why am I describing this night out to you. This is because in IIT you face two types of night out. Voluntary and forced. Voluntary, where you are up either because you want to enjoy the night with bakaitee, cards, movies or some hostel event where you know that the practice needs the whole night. Forced, are where your seniors keep you up for practice, upcoming BHM inspection, etc. As you come to senior years your graph of forced nightouts goes practically to zero. But this was my forced night out in fourth year!Now why was that, and why I am so fussy about it that I am writing a blog about it when practically it should have been my 'bed time' ( its 12 o clock in the noon), is the blog all about.


For the first reason, I'll have to tell you what happened at Nescafe. Now if on the D-night, you are up and roaming in the wings, your hostel mates can can have an obvious tendency to misunderstand that you are actively involved in the political fiesta. So that is what happened. Now frankly, I wont like this tag attached to me, specially in my hostel, when I am doing nothing. Why would I like to be a part of " kaun aajkal kitnee macha raha hai" talks. Similarly when I went to nescafe at five in morning, I met a friend of mine from the other hostel. But he was like... " what are you doing here?" Now that is very skeptical and rude. I know i am not VERY good at politics, but that doesn't mean i would like people to think that. I dont mind someone from other hostel misunderstanding. So by the end of the night,those whom you not want to show, take you as poltubaaz and those whom you wont mind, already know you are not !

Coming to the second reason, why was this night out forced. Well, B-29, Karakoram Hostel might not be the political hub but it is the part of the wing that is. So from the last two days, I had been seeing fuchchas and second yearites having the voting rights, being kept under vigilance in the wing.So that night, the moment I decided to call it a day and was switching of my room lights, a fuchcha came to me and said he was very sleepy, tired and not feeling well and needed to sleep. So how could I have refused. Thus this lead to my first forced nightout in forth year. Other rooms were occupied by my other freshers and many of my wingmates were facing same problem. Yes, but with me the problem was more because accidentally I had a 'voluntary' weekend nightout last night. ( God, I think Limca book people might be interested!!)

And if you thought that was all, then you are wrong, because there is a twist in the tale, for what happened after he woke up is what forced me to write this blog. When finally at 8 ,I happily woke him up, the moment the fuchcha came out of my room, he was welcomed by some popping eyeballs. Nobody knew he was sleeping in my room. The cell phones had been confiscated and eventually when they couldn't find him or contact him,they thought.... you know what!! So there were some 'fuchcha mil gaya' jubilations harmonized by the sound of my collapsing on bed.
You know, an eventful night can be eventful for anybody.

The Kara PA system

February 2007: Karakoram hostel is brimming with election mood. The then Maintenance secretary who is contesting for House secretary position is highly censured by the opposition for not getting the 'PA system' repaired throughout the year.
September 2007: With the responsibilities of maintenance renewed in the hostel the PA system stands repaired.

Since then it has been the same story:

It is 6 o'clock in the morning and I have just completed watching yet another stupid movie. After the boring hanging out last night, a night out watching headache movies is all I needed to murder yet another friday night. I remove all the junk from my bed and collapse on it and am about to doze off when the dead silence of my hostel wing is broken by a cacophony. I try to avoid it, thinking it will stop, but then it goes on and on. It is the Karakoram guard on the public announcement asking students to return mess plates and glasses. So IIT does expect us to be up on our feet at 6 in the morning. They can postpone the breakfast till 8 on Saturdays assuming us to sleep till late, but the wee hours are the appropriate time to ask for returning mess plates.

And that's not the only way PA system is misused. I don't know about other hostels, but in mine, many people use it for advertising. Every evening hear the the washer man, " dhobee aa gaya hai, jis kisi ko kapde dene hon, woh aakar dede." And once an innovative blood donation campaign crossed all the limits when I heard a NSS student announcing the blood camp schedule and allotting of NSS hours. So hence soon, I must not be surprised if I hear the announcement of every RCA, BSA, BSW and BSP event on it. (Hope I am not putting ideas on somebody's mind).

The usefulness of the public announcement system can't be doubted.I am NOT challenging its usefulness. All I am saying is that I hate it and that is is being overused to the extent of being misused. A hostel can't be without chaos and yelling and we have over a period of time got accustomed to it.But this PA system is rather intolerable, to the extent that the croaking voice it produces is more irritating than anything else, specially when the guard ( who is the announcer in 90% of the times) decides to speak in his broken English, which might have been another decision taken by senate to improve quality of education and institute standards.
Moreover we are not even given an opportunity to get accustomed to it, because the moment we start getting habituated to this nuisance, the PA system breaks down and the wings go into silence. Some months pass by peacefully. And then one fine morning, before we start appreciating the new found peace of mind, we find the guards voice reverberating the hostel walls at 6 o clock in the morning,"All those who have taken mess plates and glasses, please return them." We realize the poltu season has arrived.

The implication of declining sex ratio in India

It makes me proud to present before you this masterpiece of mine. Was happened was that at the CAT coaching center my Angrezi teacher gave us a list of words and asked us to write an essay on a given topic containing about 20 of the words given in the list. Now this is what happens when your entire essay/article is governed by the urge to use certain words in the time limit of 15 minutes.

The implication of declining sex ratio in India

For many families in India, the birth of a girl child brings no Euphoria.People who engage themselves in such malicious tasks forget that this falicide of girl child is a rage against someone who is going to be a future mother, wife or daughter. Such an act has no sagacity. In fact it is a malcontent against the human survival. If such an misanthropic activity continues to thrive in society, I fear the sex ratio might fall to despondent levels.
People fail to realize the incognito of potential, women can have. They fail to realize that it is due to their dour reflection of womanhood that women have been considered objects of pleasure. Moreover, in some parts of the society, uxoricide in the form of 'Sati' is also practiced.

We need to rebel against such malpractice. Just magniloquent talks or sheer mourning or speculation over the matter wont help. Only candid efforts shown over a period of time will bring fruitful results. Womanhood brings cornucopia of happiness to society and we must try our best to preserve them, specially in more rustic regions of India.