Back from sabbatical

Am back into blogosphere after a pretty long time.What with exams and submissions and things like that these days have seen my adrenaline levels soar to record highs.But the storm has passed over,and all is calm on the study front now.I have a feeling of deja vu,but I am tempted to hold forth on the various stages of exam preparation before a typical engineering end semester exam.Make a few modifications and I wager that the same thing,same techniques are applicable for other professional courses.

Take my case.Our average semester length is about 4 months....never mind the dictionary definition of six months.The first three months are one of the most relaxed ones you could dream for.Sure there are practicals to do,reports and submissions to be made ,but what the heck.We just keep pushing these things with a will-do-it-tomorrow-there-is-enough-time attitude.And when the third month is almost ending notices start appearing in college and departmental notice boards.Dates of exams and opening of new semester start getting released while the teachers get into their element,fixing dates for final submissions and practical examinations.And then ,like the beginning of a bad dream,we realize the amount of time which we had whiled away.And I don't know about others but at these times I really would have loved to get my hands on a time machine and turn the clock back.But having said that,all we can do is to do it the long ,hard way.And so starts the crazy days when one master copy of assingments and programs make the rounds of the entire hostel .One of the bes examples of I scratch your back,you scratch mine.Days and nights become kaleidoscopic bars of black and white during the run up to D-Day.And the best part is that,the majority of the people are totally clueless about the syllabus.So when looking at the past questions the only thought that comes into our minds -we are doomed.However ,with the gradual unearthing of the topics and syllabus,the flower of hope shows its face in the barren snow filled terrain of despair (I know that this sounds horribly cliched,but studying operating systems and Unix and computer networks have blunted my linguistic skills.Will have to wait for some time before the systems are up and running).

Anyway,with the practicals and submissions over,the real exam starts.Typically in most colleges these exams have no gaps in between.For example,we had five exams in five days.And let me tell you ,that was no walk in the park.With our sins of wasting the whole semester coming back and haunting us,the typical situation before each exam was discovering newer and newer questions with no answers.I mean when I were in school the routine was that you revised before exams.Here you saw new topics two hours before an exam.Another thing which I suspect my schoolmasters wouldn't approve of.But as most of the people are in the same jam,I guess that evens out everybody's odds. And the body art part is ,of course always there,along with tiny chits up the sleeves.And no sir,I an saying this not metaphorically,but literally.And since we,as a generation are more savvy than our parents when it comes to, gadgets some use cellphones to write down formulae and stuff.But that is another story altogether.

All's well that ends well,as they say.And in our case too,usually the story has a happy ending,except in some cases where the paper setter was in a particularly foul mood while setting the questions.Then even God will wash His hands off you.And no amount of chits can save you from flunking.Most of us,except the superstars have been through this at least once.But I digress.The moment the last exam is over,you feel as light as a dove.You feel no grudge in wasting 200 bucks watching a stupid flick in a multiplex when you knew before hand you would be suckered.The therauupatic value of watching a movie in a theatre is great,believe me.It means that you are completely relaxed .And it is much cheaper than getting your mind analyzed by a Freud spouting pshrink.And of course for folks living far from home,end of exams means boarding a train or a bus and going home to meet the family and eating homecooked meals.Grrrrr...,sorry that was my tummy.Goes about growling like a grizzly whenever home food is mentioned.Can't blame him,it has been almost 5 months.

I will be back soon.May the force be with you

Deluge-III

Epilogue

Got tickets to Guwahati via Delhi.The tickets were confirmed, thank God .We were to leave that very night.Spent the entire day killing time.As to finances I had left with only 350 bucks.Four or five of us each took a loan of 1000 bucks from the father of our friend.I realized a Murphy’s axiom,namely when you need a thing you won’t find it.I had two bank accounts,each with their own ATM cards.But both of them had messed up and I had applied for duplicates.So ATMs everywhere,but not a card to withdraw with!

After a good dinner on drumsticks,boarded the train and settled down for the night.This traveling was a new experience as between five of us we had only a little bag.Talk about traveling light.

After we got to Delhi we freshened up and decided to explore what we can. Had heard about the Metro and wanted to see what the fuss was all about .Along with two others spend half the day in the Metro. I could have never believed that such a thing could ever exist in India. Spotlessly clean walls and platforms ,central airconditioning.CCTV cameras. And the trains!. Just like whispering death, if you were stupid enough to stand on the tracks. If you did not look at the faces you would have difficulty believing you were in India.And on my travels I came face to face with the dichotomy between India and Bharat.The Chandni Chowk station is like all other stations.You come up to the ground on an escalator,go a few steps,turn a corner and almost run smack into an old Gurdwara.The order and cleanliness of the Metro station was replaced by chaos and filth.A narrow alley three feet wide opened out into the crowded main market which has been there since the days of Akbar and Jehangir.Goes on to show how much we have to improve.Anyway that is another topic.Also was threatened by a policemen for drinking beer in public.Thankfully the matter remained there and we completed the drink in peace

The rest of the journey was quite prosaic and mundane.We caught the connecting train at Delhi and reached home about 32 hours later.And stepped out of the train into a place stricked by drought.Such an irony,I did not know whether to laugh or to cry.Seems the Gods above have not lost their sense of humor... (Concluded)

Deluge-II

0812 hours

The 9th of Sept dawned bright and clear. Just a rhetorical statement as the sunup would not be at this hour. A thumping on the door woke me up. Opened the door, stepped out and …..opened my mouth in amazement. The whole compound was flooded. The water level was about a foot. And another thing attracted my attention.Ants,thousands of them of at least a dozen species were evacuating their nests. That place would have been a naturalist’s delight. Even to my untrained computer engineer’s eyes, I could identify at least 50 species of insects ranging from slugs to earthworms to grasshoppers.

After a quick breakfast the evacuation started with gusto.Clothes,computer ,went up.All the other odds and ends,even my wristwatch and mobile went into my trunk.This last bit I was to regret later .I made atleast a dozen trips to the higher floors and wading through progressively increasing water levels.I got bitten about four times by red ants.Almost stepped on a wiggling snake when I was taking the monitor up and could not see where I was going.And I think I made a discovery that day.Saw maybe four or five hybrids of snakes and lizards.They move like snakes but have four sets of legs like lizards. Color black and as long as 8 inches. I like to think of them as some sort of missing link. But that is probably a load of hooey. And what made the task more hazardous was that if you brushed the walls there was a danger of something plunging in their stinger. Thankfully nothing serious happened.Tne books and other things I left in the loft of my room. Don’t know where I got the strength but single handedly carried up my hold all and trunk, each weighing about 20 kilos to the first floor. I think my technique, which I call the coolie lift did the trick !!You see I spend my spare time at railway platforms watching coolies carry impossibly heavy loads. They don’t have the strength of a Bhim.

This whole op lasted about 3 hours.Meanwhile the mess was shifted to the first floor and the news brought some relief.The terrace was the favorite haunt now and there was no dry patch to be seen.900000 cusecs of water had been released from the dam and that night was full moon.So due to high tide in the sea this extra water would inundate more areas and the SMC were warning us about the water level being up 20 feet in some areas through sms.This freaked us out and we could forsee our future in a refugee camp.Some folks who lived nearby ,aleady braving the thigh deep water decided to leave while it was possible.But we lived 3000 km away.

1230 hours

The lunch bell rang and that was the sweetest music to our ears.Long lines snaked to the serving area and man oh man, did I ever get to eat so tasty food.It was only daal,dry fried mashed potatoes and steaming rice,but felt like manna from heaven to us.Predictably nobody bitched about the food.This restored our moods considerably and we looked at things with a more rosier view.I started reading ”Is Paris Burning?’

1400 hours

An outcry drew my attention outside.Asked one of the fellas what the hell was it.Turned out that the front gate was chest deep and Surat station was about to be flooded.The only hope was to go by the back gate where the waters were thigh up and make our way to a little station 15 minutes from Surat.Any train could be the last train as water could inundate tracks suddenly.Decided to abandon the sinking ship,as it were.I grabbed a tee and a pair of shorts.Could not even wear my watch or take the cell.On a wing and a prayer we set out,with no final idea as to our destination.

We struggled and trudged through swirling waters and eddies which threatened to sweep us off our feet.Finally reached the station and after some discussions decided to go Baroda.The situation there was better.Reached Baroda about three hours later in a general coach.A friend’s empty house was to be our digs for the night.Washed and scrubbed as if my life ….err skin depended on it .Dinner was at another friend’s place where it was decided that the best place would be home sweet home. Slept quite soundly .It really had been a long day. (End of part II)

Deluge-I

Prologue
For a very long time whenever somebody asked me how was life I would just shrug, make a sour face and mutter, “Same shit, different day”. Not anymore, however. During the past month many lifetime experiences were squeezed into a space of few days and now I can never complain of dullness. Let me take you back to one month. The day was Monday; the date 7th.Microsoft was to come to our college for campus. And since Microsoft being what it was, banners and festoons fluttered gaily. Those who were eligible to sit in the written had butterflies in their stomach. The rest, including me were just curious observers. All day long, disquieting rumors of water being released from the Ukai dam on Tapti reached our ears. Some low lying areas of the city were also rumored to be under water. But nobody gave much credence to them and certainly nobody thought that the situation would deteriorate. Sure it was raining but for a whole month, there were only three days of sun. But the penny really dropped when the execs could not travel from their hotel 1 km away to our campus due to water. That was when alarm bells started to ring and practically the whole campus flocked to the gates to see how high the waters had risen.


2000 hours
  

The situation looked alarming, but somehow not out of control. The main road from the gates was built on higher ground and the low-lying areas on both sides were inundated. The road looked like a causeway. The lights were out but there were plenty of flashes. Apparently many folks considered it to be a good photo opportunity and were posing for photographs standing ankle deep in water. If only they had known what was to come later, they would not waste their batteries and saved more juice for the coming days.Even though the water level was pretty low where we were standing, what was disconcerting was how the waters advanced millimeter by millimeter with nothing to stop them in the march ahead. The waters seemed to take as much notice of us as an elephant would take of a grasshopper in its way. The water level swiftly became a topic of debate. Many felt that the boys’ hostels would be under water that very night. The girls’ hostel was already in danger. I personally thought that no way was my ground floor room going to be flooded that night. Heck, it might never get flooded. You can never tell. Finding that matters were out of our hands we returned to our dark rooms.

0030 hours


The first and second floor guys had a normal night. But for the ground floor ones, it was a like no other. With two other guys I went out to monitor the water. To our shock the waters had advanced about 50 feet from last. And since water everywhere had the same level. The situation was damn grim. The main flow divided into two and executing a pincer movement around the main building two streams –one from the library side and another from the direction of hostel office joined in front of electrical engineering department.

0315 hours


On another routine check. Feeling like a flood control department man monitoring the level of a river in spate and checking whether the red line is touched. The areas around canteen were under less than 6 inches of water and the mech department could only be reached with wet feet. The labs of mech and civil departments were now threatened. Same could be forecasted for the library and the computer center. In fact, were it not for a higher road between our hostel and the canteen and the absence of a culvert, waters would have long ago entered the hostel compound. Met  a couple of guards who just told us that waters had entered into the ground floor of girls’ hostel and they had just returned from the director’s residence and shifted him lock ,stock and barrel to the first floor. We decided in the light of things that was a good policy as we had computers and even a drop could ruin the things. But could not do much as there was pitch darkness in our rooms.

0500 hours


Woke up from fitful slumber to find the grass outside the balcony sopping wet and the skies dry. This freaked me out and I banged on my neighbor’s door .He agreed that we had better start packing up. Though sometimes I used to look askance at my trunk it was my best friend today and all odds and ends went into it. Hoisted the trunk on the chair, disconnected the pc and tried to grab some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a long day……. (End of part I)

Grand slam(s)

For the past few days have put a lot of strain on my nerves.you see the thing is that we are leaving college and many good friends are unlikely to see each other’s faces in entire life.So this is the last moment to savor friendships.And savoring friendship is done here by writing slam books.

And this is where I am at a strain.For the past few day I have filled at least 20 odd slam book.Now writing a slam book is different from writing answers in an exam.You have t pour your heart and soul into the job.And if you donot wite perfectly,there is a feeling of a job half  done.These things remain forever and I want my work t olook and last good.

Writing them has forced me to examine a lot of feelings and reminisce a lot of memories.Hostel life was completely differently from that of home and we had tons of fun.All that went into the slam book.So nowadays I am walking about in a sort of haze where events from the past years with faces that you will probably,definitely never again see makes a jerk like me want to become sentimental.And guess what , I did.Let my emotions flow as they say you don’t keep anything bottled up if you want good health.Feeling much better now.

Exam musings and body art

I am back after a long time.No,it is not writer's block that kept me on the hold.It was the scourge of every student's life.Yes ,no prizes for guessing -exams.

Why is that we students hate exams. It only involves writing down the answers to some questions. Surely breaking your legs or getting a nasty bump on the head is worse than writing from memory.But many people disagree,including yours truly.And as our system goes empirical evidence suggest that the the questions to be asked in the upcoming exams can be guessed pretty accurately by looking up previous question papers

And after knowing all of this,we quake in our boots, our stomachs turn somersaults and palms become sweaty!! And for many others breathing becomes more ragged. Classic smptoms of a heart attack. Don't think I am making this up. You may no longer have to sit in an exam hall but look back to those times and a involuntary shiver will run up your spine.

I have been thinking all about this since exams were over and I guess that knowing what is coming sometimes makes things more fearsome than they actually are.Fear sort of overhypes things.It is just like if we ever had to go to a village many of us city bred types would insist on drinking from mineral water bottles rather than drink the water which comes out of the village well though it does nothing to the villagers.So coming back to our original topic exams put the fear of god in us.And however much you prepare you always feel inadequate.

And at this crucial moment that part of your inner voice with the pitchfork and the pointed tail steps in. We put that good voice with the halo out of our heads and stuff it with a pillow so that it can't disturb us when we invoke our dark side and temporarily become Dr Faust.And invoking the dark side involves rituals which you have guessed by now.We prepare chits in which is written almost in microscopic letters,write on our arms and legs answers to the most likely question asked and wear full sleeved shirts to cover up the body art.Dressed to kill...err to cheat.

And how do we reconcile all this with our good selves when we release it from uhder the pillow where it has been gasping for breath. We murmer hurried protestations, swear on our favorite cricketer's head and the father,son and the holy ghost and on the whole 330 milliion gods of the Hindu pantheon that this will be the last time.

And after six months we again reach out for that pillow. And put it to dual use for the night before the big day.

A full meal sure is peaceful

I am satisfied. It was like a torrential shower flooded a place reeling from drought. In my case it was the clampdown on eating meat. Due to the bird flu scare chicken, virtually the one non veg item we ate was off our menu. So it was a welcome change when there was a plan to cook some mutton. Three kilograms between 8 guys. The chef was naturally Suman who has gladly done this job since our first year. And as usual there was nothing to beat the taste. You could have missed it and said that you were eating it at home, except that we had to adopt some pretty unconventional measures owing to the shortage of space, utensils and fuel. That said the meal was a great success and everyone had more than enough. to sweeten the deal, each of us had one rosgolla and gulabjamun each-two types of sweets favorite with the Assamese.We even had shared between us a full bottle of cold drink and heartily drank it ,pretending that it was red wine- with due apologies to sommeliers and gourmands. My stomach is full, that is what it matters. I can sleep in peace-kapdaa and maakan I already have. Mutton took care of the roti part.

The week that was

Could not write for long for a variety of reasons, one being that the net connection was screwed up to my room and I don’t like to write my blog anywhere else.Okay,okay pretty lame excuse but I have got to offer one. Now to business. Since I was offline and unable to pen-in this case type, my thoughts only two events have stuck out .One was Holi, the festival of colors and another was a farewell party

Holi is always a cause for fun, but not so much if you are not sharing close living space with others, like in a block of flats. So while I was at home we just smeared a little powder other, wished each other and bathed the colors out. Now let me describe a typical Holi day at our hostel. After breakfast, bands of roving revelers, armed with drums and colors would tour each hostel. To the thunderous beat, colors would be smeared, .most of them grease based which take a thorough rubbing to get rid off. But that is only the beginning. Buckets of water are brought from the bathroom and indiscriminately splashed. Soon the corridor floor resembles a confusion of colors, along with faces, hair and t-shirts. With most of the colors finished and water splashing over the next phase is stripping. This starts with somebody pulling at his neighbor’s sleeve along the seams until the water soaked threads give way. The aim is not to just ruin one sleeve, but to rip the whole garment to pieces. Once this starts, a domino effect kicks in and soon there is no one with a whole shirt or tee on his back. But there are no frowns, only smiles and a lot of wishing and backslapping. After this most of the people head of to one of the hostels that is hosting a common mud fest and come back all muddied. Personally I skip this part. This time I also happened to be in a royal jam. I did not have soap and all the shops were closed. Here I was running around with all the hues of spectrum on my skin and head and face and stuck without any means of getting a decent bath.Thankfully, I managed a spare piece finally.

In the afternoon we had to eat out. But we had to walk a long way before getting an auto. Stuffing me with chicken, bird flu is hanged, along with mutton and prawn I ratcheted up an individual bill of record 191 bucks. It took all my willpower to drag myself to my room.

Another out of turn event was the farewell. This is an annual event organized by the student of each state to bid goodbye to their respective seniors leaving college. Gujarat being a dry state these gatherings take place on the beaches of Daman which is prohibition free .So the upshot is that everybody drinks .And some seriously passed out guys also give vent to their emotions by a sob or two .Lots of hugging and consoling takes place at the end of the day, with many admitting to their worst kept secrets. Heavy duty nostalgia kicks in on part of the seniors and reminiscences are all over the place, with every body promising not to forget one another. Some chaps get too drunk to eat while others vomit everything they have eaten under the influence of alcohol. Quite a waste of good food and drink is what I say. Speaking of myself I am no drinker. But this time I went over the limit, drinking everything except whisky and, of course, champagne!!!Surprisingly the cocktail in my belly made me hungrier and I did best what I do with good food-attack it with gusto. We hung around the beach till the burning sun sank below the horizon and got back to college by about midnight. A quick cold bath which meant some calisthenics under the gushing faucet and I was ready for bed. Zzzzzzzzz…!!!

Bank account blues

What is the least amount you ever have had in your bank, assuming that you have one. Rs 100?.Rs 20? Rs 10? If you are shocked at practically accused of being a pauper, you need not fret. Turns out that there is someone even below your level in the liquidity chain. And that worthy is yours truly. Before you begin to ask as to why I have bestowed this honor, even if dubious, on myself I have an iron clad reason. That is the ATM receipt of my transaction which said that my account balance was, hold your breath, Rs 0.06.Which means that on 25th day of the the first month of the year of our Lord 2006 I had precisely 6 paise, which might have been of some use to me had I been living a century ago.That is why I consider that day to be historic. But God, I can live without more such momentous events, if it pleases you. As an ordinary mortal, I just won’t be able to take the strain.

Thankfully God in heaven, for once seemed to answer my prayers and through my parents have kept my fiscal condition out of the woods. And for that I kneel down and pray from the depths of my heart, soul, mind, cockles and practically any organ you can think of. Amen

P.S Oh and by the way I am thinking of preserving that receipt so that people won’t think that I am spouting codswallop.Will be a good thing to show to my grandchildren on a rainy night when everybody have told their share of ghost stories. But the way I see things are heading I don’t much fancy their understanding what the hell paisa is that grandpa is babbling about

D.I.Y. barbering !

I will ask you a very simple question-is it possible to cut your own hair. Apparently it is aesthetically impossible, as a certain Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi discovered to his dismay. Miffed by the refusal of a white barber in SA, he took a pair of scissors to his hair and tried to give them a trimming. As he writes, though he had fairly succeeded in the front, the rear looked as though they were chewed through by rats. Of course he soon went bald and matters rested there.

Now you might be wondering what relation does these events which occurred over a century ago have with me.Plenty.Let me give you a background. Like Gandhi I was losing my hair. And feeling a bit insecure when all my friends make it a fashion statement to keep shoulder length hair. Among the many myths related to hair one is that shaving your head stimulates growth. Even though I am a skeptic I gave it a shot .Went and shaved off my head and on top of that also acquired a French cut. Reaching my digs I was surprised when many of my long locked companions complimented my new looks. One of them even said that the bear would be okay but it was a shame I could not keep my bald look without frequent visits to a barber. Of course the idea is financially unsustainable. He ended with a wisecrack that it would have been nice if I could shave my head myself and save expenses.

Now that set me thinking. Why can’t I do it just because others don’t? After 4 days when the fuzz appeared on the head I figured that now was the time to test my hypothesis. I lathered up my fuzzy head just like hoe you do before shaving and applied the razor. A sweep through the foam and my scalp was glistening. A few careful strokes and the front part was nice and tidy. Now came the back. Feeling by touch I managed to scrape away much but was sure that I had left out patches and could feel myself like how the father of the nation felt when he was squinting before his own shaving mirror. Finally with the help of a chap I completed the finishing touches. Of course I nicked myself number of places, but as they say, the experience was worth it. Shaving, in the ordinary sense of the term was a breeze. When I sprayed after shave the head seemed to be on fire. This was about one and a half month ago. With practice nowadays I can almost shave my head, front, back and the sides almost eyes closed. And thankfully no more nicks.

Seeing me perpetually bald made me face the same question –how many times do I go for a shave? And when I reply with a straight face that it was my own handiwork and it had been months people refuse to believe until somebody who has seen me doing it has corroborated the story. And I have been getting a lot of comments on the look-ranging from looking like a baddie in the movies to an x -rated star. Some even ventured to say it looked sexy, though I don’t believe much of it. But the only reason I have kept a bald head is that it feels damn comfortable. Try it for yourself. It feels like you have a weather vane on top of your head. And the wind is cool. I don’t think I will ever go back to being normal. Being bald sits just fine with me. Oops! Haven’t shaved for 5 days.Okay, first thing in the morning I am gonna lather myself up.

P.S Just as I promised yesterday I lathered up and got a nice head and cheek shave and am as good as new.Another 20 bucks out of the hands of the trimmers.

Avian influenza.. no chickens for you,idiot!

I ought to have written about it earlier, but to write late is better than not to write at all. Bird flu has come to India. While it had first surfaced in places like China and Thailand a few years back people raised quite a hue and cry about bird flu in India and what we should do and what not. As a serious chicken eater I was naturally concerned. But the crisis seemed to blow over and everything was hunky-dory, that is from my point of view. I went on eating chicken and eggs and the veggies, Lord bless them, continued with their ghas pus.Even though chicks started dropping dead in thousands from Vietnam to Turkey to Africa (maybe Uganda, I am not sure), the virus seemed to forget that there was a place called India. Until Jan 17.

The next morning when I woke up the first thing I heard even before I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes was that virus H5N1 has struck big time. And the place where it had surfaced was about 5 hours from where I live. I don’t want to be too dramatic but at that moment I felt as if I had bee kicked by a mule. That was because we had a party the previous night and for me, a party means chicken .The only symptom of bird flu, as far as I know, was fever and even though I did not have any thermometer, I seemed to be fine. Finally after four or five days of scrutiny I concluded that there was nothing wrong with me. In the meantime there was a call from home forbidding me not to go within ten feet of chicken. Dad also asked if I had eaten in the recent days. Like a wimp I lied because telling the truth would only worry them and would do nobody any good.

Meanwhile eggs also started disappearing even as I watched glumly the visuals of them being destroyed by gowned and masked men in the quarantined area. Even though the government tried to assure that it was safe to continue as usual and the agriculture minister went on the warpath scolding municipal authorities who had prevented fowls from entering their jurisdictions, he was not helped in his cause by reports that one or two persons had died near the epicenter.

As far as I see this situation is going to last for quite some time. It always takes time before people will recover their confidence enough to touch chicken. And for people who don’t take after mutton or fish or pork or beef like myself it will be a tough wait. Maybe I should start eating soyabean.You know, with proper seasoning it tastes just like a piece of boneless chicken. Coming from a hardcore non veggie, I can almost hear the veggies and the PETA people chuckling.Sigh! Every dog has his day.

Two new blogs

I have been mulling over this thing for quite some time .But some way or the other,i never seemed to get around to do it.Finally telling enough is enough,I created two new blogs.One is about the books I read.The number of books I read is restricted by the numbers I can lay my hands upon.Since I remember I have been reading.A fairly nice way to pass your time.Since the brain may not be able to recall clearly a particularly exciting book clearly which was read years ago,I have decided to pen down the plot and my comments on the book.Someday it would help somebody,besides serving as a momento to me.The blog can be accessed from My BookBlog .

Another pursuuit of mine is current affairs.They are the future of yesterday and history for tomorrow.A sort of personal archive .View from Ears to the ground

My only regret is that I could have started sooner.But the world is an exciting place and I will continue reading!So I guess it won't be as bad as I think.

Fresher party '06

Yesterday was a blast. There is no other way to describe our freshers party. I went into the party determined to work off every rupee of my contribution of 460 bucks, and boy, didn’t I.I went into the party wearing a clean and pressed shirt and tee. I came out with a completely sweaty and crumpled one. Remind me never to wear so clean clothes. They are gonna get dirty anyway.

So here is the rundown of the day. Scheduled to start from 6.30 pm, the party got off after one hour because as Indians, we are real suckers for punctuality. Formal introductions with the juniors over, it was time to start the party proper. After steaming soup and starters, most of the folks spilled out into the dance floor. Some guys had dosed themselves with too much alcohol so all they could do was barely stand still. One of them was so stoned that no amount of rousing woke him up and at the end of the party he had to be practically carried between two chaps all the way to the hostel. But more of that later.

So there was everybody on the dance floor, free for all. It was sort of improvisation whereby you danced according to the music belting out from the speakers. After a particular vigorous bout of hip shaking, everybody would stand aside to get a few moments breadth, and then would again plunge headlong. To cut a long story short, everybody let their hair down, myself included even though I had shaved off my hair .Soon it was only the adrenaline that sustained us, as we were pretty inexperienced and out of practice at this sort of thing. Any decent party ought to have food, and in my mind I had not yet worked up all the money. So I sat down and began to shovel in till it was bursting. Even though I had focused my attention on food, yet I spied some people who seemed to be crying. Alcohol and emotions sometimes loosens up your tear glands.I have seen it happen before.

To cut a long story short, the music, food, everything was superb. The 3rd yearites deserve our appreciation for organizing such a wonderful party. And speaking of myself, I soon began to feel the effects of overexertion on my seldom used muscles and joints. After trudging back on foot for more than a kilometer, when I reached my room bone tired and threw myself on the bed, the blasted electricity went off. No fans and no mosquito repellant. With mosquitoes practicing their singing I had to hunker under a blanket, which left me stewing. I drifted off to sleep when it was 7 in the morning and woke up at noon, whole body aching. And a shocker of news awaited me-bird flu had come to India and the place of outbreak, I heard someone say was only four hours away. This scared the living headlights out of me when I thought about the chicken I ate yesterday. So no chicken until this threat goes-I think I am going to be a veggie for the time being. And eggs are also banned.  Wonder how long this ache lasts?

Man vs nature: a no win situation

This is old news, but it is damned serious. I am referring to the depleting forest wealth of India. The ravaging of forest areas by humans for their own needs like agriculture and development has impacted heavily on flora and fauna all over the world. And in this conflict the biosphere has take a beating. Hundreds of species of plants and animals are being wiped out daily or are on their path to oblivion. Take the case of India. Before the 20th century the number of tigers in India numbered 40,000* and in 2003 whittled down to 1576* in a census taken through 27 reserve forests. This drastic downfall can be only explained by man made causes like poaching and loss of environment. Since the tiger is at the top of the food chain, the population of tigers indicate the health of the eco system. And judging by these numbers, we are in real trouble simply because no matter how developed we become we are also a part of the environment. In two tiger reserves in north India –Sariska and Ranthambore the tiger population has almost been wiped out due to wide poaching, prompting a CBI inquiry. In fact in Sariska there have been no sightings since Jan 2005.**.The situation is not exactly rosy in other reserves.
A second example is the man –elephant conflict. People have encroached into elephant corridors and forests causing loss of habitat. Hence elephants destroy standing crops causing enormous economic loss.Hunderds of people have lost their lives .Elephants are also slaughtered for ivory which has a large market oveseas.One name comes to mind –Verappan.This notorious poacher ,now dead had killed thousands of elephants for ivory and had cut down tons of sandalwood trees. But the scourge is not eliminated Other poachers, mostly in cahoots with some crooked forest officials are still in business.

Regarding other species, the story is pretty much the same.Leopards, bears, deer, turtles and thousand others are struggling for their existence. Even birds are not spared. But in this overall picture of gloom, there are some silver linings. One example is the Kaziranga National Park in Assam, the only refuge of one horned Indian rhino. A hundred years ago, the population of rhinos barely ran into double digits. A century of dedicated conservation efforts battling obstacles like flood and poachers, who kill rhinos for the highly valued horn have resulted in their rise to 1600***.If this process can be replicated for other species also we stand a chance of reversing the tide. All of us owe to our future generations to leave behind our priceless natural heritage intact

*Project Tiger

**Indian Express

***Kaziranga

Stunts work in movies

Well, let me see. My last post was on 6th December. And I have reappeared after more than a month. There are several reasons for this errant behaviour.Firstly, I had left home for my vacations the next day. Now when I am at home, my forays into the cyber world become limited because I hate to dip into my pocket and sit at a café at the rate of 20 bucks an hour. But staying away from updating the blog had me saddled with a guilty conscience. But a few days into the holidays I almost broke my shoulder trying   a dumb stunt .For about two weeks I was trussed up like a chicken. And since I live deep in mosquito country I could only watch helplessly at mosquitoes flying about merrily and alighting at places unreachable by my injured hand and barely reachable by my other arm if I was a master contortionist, which I am not. So the bastards nearly sucked me half dry. Upon reaching the hostel I found that half of my friends, both studying and working had heard about it and I was laughed at for being such a loony as to fall off my bicycle. However as I have a habit of laughing at myself such ribbing did not effect me. Moral of story-do not try stupid stunts on your own and learn to laugh at yourself,’coz grinning needs lesser effort than frowning. And while you are at it, indulge in an occasional guffaw now and then.