Random

Tera khwaabo me yu aana,
mera chain kho jaana
bhookh pyaas ghum jaana
dil ka gaana woh gaana
dekho kitna puraana
sunlo taaro ka taraana
fir laye nazraana
mere pyaar ka khajaana
teri aankho ka nishaana
mera dil hua ghayal
tere pyaar me hai pagal
hua tujhpe wo kayal
baji jabse teri payal
teri aankhe aur kajal
jaise chaand aur badal
zulfo ka andhera
aur chehre ka savera
mera din meri raat
mere geet meri baat
sabme tu hai mere sang
gori rah gaya me dang
tera chandan sa ang
tu shama me patang

jal ke hai bataana
tujhse pyaar hai jataana
hotho ka silna
yu aankho se bataana
apne dil ka fasana
ab door nahi jaana
hua bahut tadpaana
nahi aur ab satana
ke tumko hai paana
jaaneman jaanejaana

When people hate you.

B: So today was a lot of fun. Right after the freshers we went for a treat with the juniors involved in the Choreo and had a game of truth and dare.
Me: Hmm.
B: By the way did you have an episode with this girl S?
Me: Episode? Naah I know her because I had talked to her when she contested in the elections. Why?
B: She got the truth part and was asked who she hated the most and she named you.
Me: He he he. Sounds interesting.

This got me thinking. I am starting my sixth year at IIT Kanpur and am overstaying due to academic reasons.  In the past five years, how many people have I pissed off? And I am typing a random list now as I am going over it

My first roommate is surely one I guess because he ran away within the first month of our first year More recently I guess a lot of ex/current members of the NERD team.  One of the two contestants for the post of Cultural Secretary during my time’s General Elections in the Institute or at least his associates. My ex-thesis guide. A whole lot of Hall 3 guys (I belong to Hall 2). A whole lot of Hall 2 guys. A whole lot of Hall 5 guys. The lady HR manager at Accenture. The Office Incharge at SPO. A whole lot of Post Graduates. A few alumni. Parents, certainly.

Long long list as this is just the tip of the tip of the iceberg. And do I care? For a few people yes. Parents certainly. Some friends/ex-friends (2 or 3). Other than that? Go and boil your head guys

So long (that it goes from bottom to top),
Onion

Saint of Lost Causes – 1

“There is always the speech.”
“The speech? Seriosuly? A speech.”
“Yes. It’s your inauguration speech. It is customary for all new entrants to make a speech. A sort of entry acceptance.”
“You do know I am mortally afraid of making speeches, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t use the word mortally.”
“Let’s talk reality and not semantics.”
“You will have to make a speech and that’s a reality.”

And she went away, just like she had come: out of no where. Although I was still not sure. Why a speech? You just move on and go in. Not that you have a choice but what’s it about speech? I thought it was some kind of a joke because it was known that I was really afraid of public speaking. I couldn’t even say a nervous ‘Hi’ to a crowd of ten or more from a high rise platform via a mic let alone address countless people from the dais. But the finality in her tone made it clear to me: I will have to give a speech if I wanted to get in. Otherwise they would leave me hanging for God knows how much time. So I embarked upon a journey down my experiences, memories and thoughts to get some material for the act. On normal occassions I could have googled a good speech but this was not a normal occasion. It was special, besides, I had a feeling that even Google did not index pages with the speeches for occassions like this one.

India Inspired: RTI Memories

Soochna ka adhikaar

Jump

The Guitar Reflections

Looking out of the window

It is a Spanish guitar. A Signature … tropical. It has been around for almost a decade now. I never devoted myself wholly to it. I always played an image of the guitar. To put it in simple terms – I am no pro. I started learning the guitar on it. But before I proceeded to anything noteworthy, I gave the guitar to my brother. That made way for a new guitar. A fake Gibson … But I do not wish to get ahead of myself and so I will begin at the beginning.

I had completed my eighth standard when my father sent me to a music class not so far from our home in Indore.  This guitar was given to me for this class. I even remember the shop we bought it from: Jingle Bells, the one stop shop for anything musical. The night before we bought the guitar, I had to go to a doctor first for a chest checkup because of my frequent chest pains. The ailment, which has since then repeatedly disrupted my life, remains undiagnosed. The doctor did his checkup but my mind was elsewhere like always. I was NOT present. And he sensed it.

‘Arvind, you are not here. What are you thinking?’
‘Nothing Sir.’ And I looked at my mother who smiled and my father who said: ‘Concentrate on what is at hand.’ But I was thinking of guitar, waiting to lay my hands on it. So I did not take my father’s words into account – a mistake I repeatedly did in my teenage. And I was never present for the task at hand and so I screwed many of them.

We went to buy the guitar after the checkup but found that the shop had closed. We finally bought the guitar the next day. That was one of the happiest days of my life.

Every morning I would go to the class from 8:30 am to 9:30 am and I would return home and watch Disney Hour on DD-1 from 10 am onwards. That was the fun of summer time, you did not have to worry about not having cable because even though DD-1 had started failing its viewers, they did take care of their young audience. And this was the reason I never got around to practicing. I would go to the class, come back and get lost in the wonderful world of cartoons. After that, throughout the day I engaged in anything but finger zinging. And then next morning I would go back to the class. My master would scold me for not practicing but that never had an effect on me. I still wanted to learn guitar but somehow I screwed up the chance.

Time passed by. Summers ended and so did the classes. I could play some songs on tabs.  No chords. I had not progressed. So I would satisfy myself with Hai apna dil to awara and National Anthem. Before I knew, I had completed eleventh standard and one day we shifted to Bhopal – the saddest day of my teenage. Indore has a charm that no city can match. I am sure everyone can say so for their hometown. I do not wish to offend anyone but there is no dearth of dislike I have for Bhopal even with its lakes and clean aura.

It was summer time again and my brother had completed sixth standard. My thoughts went back to the guitar but now there were two of us. Someone suggested a tutor for Guitar. He would come to teach both of us. He was actually a professional Sitar player and generalized his expertise to anything with strings. Almost immediately I saw an opening for a new guitar. Two people can’t learn much on one guitar. The spoiled kid took over and my master obviously wanted to teach in parallel so I convinced my parents to get me a new guitar. Why me? Because I am the elder one. My brother, the good kid also said that he would rather try to old one. And so I got a new guitar, a fake Gibson. It was stylish, had a sheen which made it look better than the old one and it had a belt. I was happy again. The classes went on and I progressed to very basic chords. Somehow I never liked the new Guitar. It never gave the sound which the old one gave. It was sort of stiff and the sound box was not vibrant but close and too compact. It was almost as if the Guitar was my own manifestation – stiff, non-vibrant and closed. Anyway, preparation for JEE and my lack of commitment pushed the Guitar into background again.

I came to IIT in July 2004 only to realize that it would have been great if I had learned how to play. Music Club was the place to be and guitarists were seen with interest by everyone.  Later in my fourth semester I took up the guitar again, brought my fake Gibson to campus and started learning it under my new Master: Paul. He lives in Type 1 quarters in IIT Kanpur – son of an institute employee. I progressed to basic chords and all was going well when suddenly Paul found a job and I lost motivation.

I got involved in other things, a lot of them. And the Guitar stayed at my home. Neither my brother played it nor could I given that i was in Kanpur. The fake Gibson in my room kept to its black cover. Dust settled on it. Once in a while other guitar enthusiasts took my guitar to their rooms and started learning. But I never took it up. I would go and visit Satti and Chaachi, my friends, occasionally. They were into the guitar and were self taught. They were my inspiration only I could never take it entirely.

We shifted from one home to another within Bhopal. After one such shifting, I came home from campus for a week. I was looking through my old stuff that was to be arranged when I saw the old Spanish.  I thought I would try my hand at it. I took it out and found that the bridge had been ripped off the body during shifting. Somehow I felt bad for this forlorn forsaken guitar. I immediately took quickfix and tried to put the bridge back. Foolishly I removed the strings although that was not required. But after I had fixed it, I was supposed to put the strings back too and I started doing that. But I looked at the strings: all rusty and thinning at places. I felt bad for the dilapidated condition for the Guitar and requested my father that I be allowed to go and buy a pack of new strings.

I bought new strings and new set of plectrums. I changed the strings, oiled the tuners and played the guitar. As good as new, as good as it was! They needed change and it was then that it struck me: Every guitar needs new strings once in a while, every guitar needs a bit of cleaning, tuning and every guitar needs its deserved share of music. Everyone needs a change once in a while.

I don’t want to give a sermon. I was cleaning my fake Gibson today when everything came back and so I thought I should write it. I am writing something serious after a long long time and I am happy with the introspection the guitar led me to. As far as the Guitar itself is concerned, the old one is still at home. The fake Gibson is out for takes. I think I will give it to the Girls. Their guitar in the hobby room is all broken and stringless.

When I had time I didn’t chase things. Now I have other priorities.  And I have learned this – prioritize properly and chase those things before priorities change. I thought about why could not learn the guitar and the answer to that question was actually an answer to all my ‘Why couldn’t I?’ questions. I wanted to learn how to play the guitar but I never wanted it badly. When we never want a thing badly, we either end up not getting it at all or even when we get it, we never recognize the value of it and in the end lose it.  Pursue the dreams, want them as if life depends on them… badly. And then one day we will find that we have finally broken them.

Onion.

Exposing Taxi Services at IIT Kanpur

Video Scoop on IIT Kanpur Taxi Scam. For action and fun! Credits: Vidit, Suji, Jolly and Yours Truly along with SIS Guard Arvind Bhaiya and an unassuming Taxi Driver – Rakesh! You can see the videos here too.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

–

The video action above happened on February 17, 2009 at around 9:30 am as a follow up to the post appended below:

This incident happened on February 16, 2009 in the night. The showdown will take place at 9:30 am in the morning at Hall 9 Gate on February 17, 2009. be there to watch it By the way the incident is described by the complaint below.

Cheers!

–

Dear Sir,
Greetings! I am Arvind Kothari, a dual degree student in the Department of Mechanical Engineering, IIT Kanpur. I am mailing to lodge a complaint with the Taxi Service providers. Three services: Amit Travels, (Surender) Yadav Travels and (Rajpal) Yadav Travels which can be approached at Internal Numbers ****,**** and **** are into a sort of scam.

I have to pick up three US nationals tomorrow from Kanpur Central at 11 am for a Student Gymkhana Lecture. I called all three services for booking a taxi and all of them told that no car is available. I talked to Mr. Sujania on this because the Gymkhana Lecture and Discussion Club comes under his council. He said that this has been a problem quite some time now. Taxi Services operating inside IIT Kanpur do not book for destinations within Kanpur but would go readily to Lucknow. In order to check, I called all of these taxi services with name Rastogi living in H-201, Hall 9. I told them that I have to go to Lucknow Airport since I have a flight to catch at 12:15. I asked them to come at 10:30 am. I gave them my true mobile number which is **********. I could do that because earlier they had point blank refused for car and matter did not go on till exchange of mobiler numbers.Surprisingly all of them agreed. One of them suggested that I should leave at 9:30 or else I will be late. So much for advice. The idea is that this is a scam. Long distances pay more but that does not mean that these service providers will stop serving campus residents for short distances. I am hopeful that if you are able to make it to Hall 9 at 9:30 am tomorrow morning, you will be able to see three different cars there willing to take Anshul Rastogi to Lucknow. I firmly believe that this matter should be handled.

I am mailing because I was told by Mr. Sujania that you have recently taken over as the Chairman of the Transport Commitee. I humbly request you to take this matter up.

Thanking You,
Yours Sincerely,
Arvind Kothari

–

NERD has an Office now!

Notes on Engineering Research and Development (NERD) – IIT Kanpur’s Student led Research magazine now has a proper Office. The Alumni Association of IIT Kanpur, as a kind gesture, gave us their old office (in Students’ Activity Center of IIT Kanpur) for use. They left behind furniture, 3 ACs and a white board along with hell of a lot of dirt and waste. But it is understandable. The office was out of use ever since the Association moved to its new office in the adjoining Outreach Building. The Office cleaning drive starts tomorrow. Fellow NERDS, be ready with the brooms! Keep checking the website for Before-After photographs and the adventures we do while cleaning the place.

Last year, when I was serving as the President of Students’ Gymkhana, the SAC Book Club underwent complete shifting and renovation. At that time I completely forgot to make a comparative photo album. Also, the Office decorations et cetera involved only three people so there wasn’t much fun. This time we are trying a very different paradigm with the team building exercise in NERD. In accordance with that, it is certainly expected that Friday evening’s cleaning drive will be one hell of an adventure.

So long,
Onion

\\

Gee Mate!

So finally I gave GMAT on 7th October. 710/800 folks. Not too bad but not good either. But put in just 10 hours of preparation time and you have a satisfying experience even with 710. I know – sour grapes. I guess with no work experience yours truly will have to pull off a miracle here. But then since it has started, let’s do it! A full schol to Stan is too good to lose.

I have to say that the whole GMAT experience was fun. After a long time, I actually enjoyed giving an exam. And the girl at the invigilation post was cute too. Allahabad (Exam center) was not much different from Kanpur – at least the parts I saw. As always I made friends with the cycle-rickshaw-wallahs. Some good time pass while cruising on the cycle through the city’s thoroughfare. I think that every connection you make, no matter how small, matters somewhere in your personal space. And most of the times we forget the small things that happened but somewhere, these small things count. One of them can be a rickshaw-wallah telling me – Bhaiyaji doosro ka dil dukhaane waale kabhi aage nahi badte. paisa kama lenge par jeevan me khushi nahi mil paati. Hamare 2 bachche hai hai aur bahut duniya dekhi hai hamne. Vishvaas kariye hamaraa. (Brother, those who pain the hearts of others will never do well in life. They might amass wealth but they will never be happy. Believe me as I have seen the world and have two kids.)

Not far off from truth coming from Bobby the rickshaw guy. Life’s little treasures.

A+

I have a friend. He is usually called Sam. A few days ago he buzzed me up and asked for my Blood Group. I immediately knew that Blood was required somewhere. In IIT Kanpur half the mails on All mailing list are about blood required somewhere. It’s hard to believe that we still have blood left after four years at the place. It hasn’t been bad, I just liked the statement as I wrote it (seems like it’s fashionable to be a cynic).

Anyway the point is that for a moment, I hesitated answering. I don’t know why but I just did. And just after that I typed in my blood type (B+). The type required was A+. Donating blood is harmless if needles are sterilized and the amount taken is controlled. But there’s so much stigma attached to it that I hesitated. I found out later that the blood was required for the wife of a person whose help I used seek almost every day during my tenure. She is fine now. I am not. Guilt…is a bad thing. It sticks for a long time.

The unwritten job

Dear Diary,
There are medals for a good CGPA. The President and Director give them away under their name every year. There are no medals for being a good guy. But yet you feel compelled to do the unwritten job. Never assigned to you by the same scribes who decide the gold medalists but realized for reasons that you can not spell out explicitly yourself. It’s not ‘ You won’t.’ It is ‘You can’t.’ And you do them. You fall prey to them every now and then you do them. And you reap the results too. But the world is very objective. A shelf full of trophies is coveted more than a good night’s sleep and being able to see yourself in the mirror. And what’s more, they won’t recognize you for doing the job, for being the good guy, for understanding the duties and carrying them out, sometimes at the expense of the trophies. They won’t remember you. You are not on the ‘list.’ You are not the one whose smug face will appear in the city edition of the national newspaper. You are the one whose face will fade away.

But you do it. Because the medal sells cheap at the five and dime in Kalyanpur. But the other thing can’t be sold. It remains with you, forever. No one can take that away and there’s a reason why they don’t give medals for it. No medal can represent it in its entirety. Only you can. And so you must. You must do the unwritten job. You might fail, be ridiculed or end up a loser. But you must do it because what you CAN do, you MUST!

My apologies to my parents. My apologies to my peers. Never did I see people who loved trophies so much. My apologies to myself, I lost the mirror. My apologies to the world. Fuck you! Fuck you very much!

My tributes to Rippan and the MCB that was published by McGraw Hill. They cared to talk about him: the one who would CRY for those who had stopped crying, thinking that it was of no use.

Onion

He knew that I knew that he didn’t :)

I met Raj because of Saumya. A few days before Saumya left the campus we went on a roller coaster night trip that took us to Dhaba, an obscure tea shop at Rawatpur (A Kanpur suburb) Station serving excellent tea in Laloo’s kulhads and numerous alleys in search of a special Pan shop (which we never found) before we ended up at Ganga Ghat thinking it was Massacre Ghat (which is also a ghat of the Ganges). We returned to campus at around 6 am. Driving full speed on Grand Trunk in the morning has a charm of its own.

Anyway, Saumya left the campus. One day, after a brief Google talk with him, I left for library and on my way I met Raj.

Me: Hi Raj! How are you doing.
Raj: (caught unawares) Uh-oh! I am fine. How are you?
Me: I am fine too. Going to library.
Raj: I am just returning from my lab. So what’s up these days.
Me: Nothing much since Saumya left. In fact I was just chatting with him. So what’s up at your end?
Raj: Same old. So Saumya is fine?
Me: Yeah, he is fine.
Raj: Good, good. So, I will catch up with you later.
Me: Sure. See you around.
Raj: Yeah. Bye
Me: Bye.

He knew that I knew that he didn’t recognize me and didn’t have an inkling of who I was. But he engaged in conversation anyway. It’s funny how such things happen and how accommodating people can be just so that the others are at ease and they themselves are at ease too.

Anyway, this is the 100th post on this blog which derives from several blogs I created and destroyed ever since I began blogging in August 2005. That way, my blogging habit is now three years old. The readership at my blogs has been minimal as almost everything else has been in the past three years. Not that it hasn’t been good. It’s been great but we know the human mind – nothing is enough!

Adios,
Onion

Angels from midnight

Have you lost your sounding board?
The one wall that echoed?
Fighting another lost battle,
Lost in dust yet to settle.

We are here, Him and Son,
Some say emissaries of Satan
Who knows? They might be right.
But for now,
We’re your angels from midnight.

Dark circles round the eyes,
Cold breathe in tired sighs.
You are broken wanna bet?
Smoke from a wet cigarette.

Kurt had his own reason,
This is a different season.
Don’t look for an escapade,
No burn out, do not fade,

Life is not a filter’s game,
Don’t sell it for 74 mm.
We know we’re right,
After all,
We’re the angels from midnight.

Kaandaa Kahin – 1

This came out in a chat yesterday.

Leftovers of a past life are better left over.

I love myself

Mischances

Slept halfway through the story,
Where’ve you been?
Mind filling me in?

Left home long ago,
A bag in my hand,
I drift akin to sand.

Her picture in my wallet,
I look and sigh,
No kisses, No goodbye,

Guitar has lost the music,
Lost Plectrum, broken strings,
the silence stings.

Blowing my veins,
Syringes of false pretenses,
missed chances, mischances

Slept halfway through the story,
Where’ve you been?
Mind filling me in?

Kangaali :(

It’s been over two weeks now. I am broke! Complete muflisi mein ji rahe hai hum ‘ghafil.‘ I do not have a penny in my wallet. All I have is some old bill from the time I was in office along with some photos. My bank account has 36 bucks. They have always been there, since time immemorial and what not. If only ATMs could dispense fivers. With a net worth of less than $1, not accounting for the trash in my room, what am I supposed to do?

I wasn’t so broke till yesterday. I had two bucks in my wallet when my friend Tushar Kant knocked on the door and asked for my prized possession for getting his chappals repaired. I gave him the coins with heavy heart, not to mention my own chappals too. I am still hoping he will pay up.

When I went to canteen today I was told that the accounts are closing from June 19, 2008 onwards, which is, today. So I bought supplies for the next two weeks. God save the great Hall 1 canteen wallah without whom I would have been on the streets months earlier. But now that option is also gone. The only option left now is to go into the vasooli mode and ask the udharilaals to pay up my bucks and seeing that one of them is some 120 kilos vasooli is not so easy. But the kind of poverty that is usually associated with the members of the graduating batch and their friends, a heist is not completely out of the question. And given that I have the experience of almost all the George Clooney movies almost all of which are about some heist or treasure hunt, I think I will be able to pull it off. Otherwise there’s only one option left now -

Bhagwan ke naam pe

Hoo Hooba,
Rum Chum

PS: Tushar did return the chap-pal!

Missed calls

\begin{hopeless}

Every time I get a missed call from a number which is not on my contact list (so basically it really is a number and not a name on the phone), I log on to Information Madness to check where it came from. I so wish it were from there.

But the thing is that it shows only the state of the caller when it’s a cell number. And only the city when we have a land line calling the cell.

The sad part is, the only way to find out is to call them back or to attend the call the next time and that is when the illusion ends. That is when it strikes me that I have to outgrow the pipe dreams and move on.

I don’t want to move on. I pretend to move on when I am only walking in circles. I don’t think I want the illusion to end. May be that’s the reason I don’t attend calls from unknown numbers. May be I want the dream to go on. Don’t you?

\end

\begin {Addendum}

I now plan to have a sweetheart in every state of the country so that I can miss all the calls I receive
You tend to get such ideas after chatting with peelu!

\end

April fool!

Finally I have something to write and mind you this is a real incident.

So on April 1, 2008 at around 3:11 am I receive a call from some number. I won’t give it away here for reasons given later but suffice to say that it had a 9936 prefix. So this call is from a girl who is distressed and she says, ” Aap kyun mujhe pareshaan kar rahe hai baar baar message aur phone karke. Me aapse baat nahi karna chahti. Mere bhaiya ko pata lag gaya to mera to jo hona hai hoga par aap ko bhi…aapko bhi kuchh ho jayega (and some more stuff I don’t remember).”

While this girl is speaking this I am thinkin – Finally some bandi called me. I am trying to talk to her but she continues speaking (for reasons I came to know later) without listening to me. So while she is speaking the aforementioned statement:

Me: Madam kaun ho ap. Raat me 3 baje koi aur mila nahi aapko (But she continues) Kaun ho yaar…pehle pareshaan karne to do fir bhai se baat karvaana.

Her brother approaches now. I can hear his voice on the cell. He is saying something like: “Kaun hai?”

She: Bhaiya yeh lo aap baat karo

Biraadar: Kaun hai be tu. Kyun pareshaan kar raha hai. Teri…tera number to mil hi gaya hai mujhe.

Me: Achha tareeka hai raat me 3 baje April fool banane ka.

Biraadar (ignores the April fool comment for reasons I came to know later): Abe tera number mil gaya hai mujhe. Naam kya hai tera?

Me: Naam jaan ke kya karoge. Behen ke shaadi ke card pe chhapega tab padh lena.

Biraadar: Naam to tera nikalva hi loonga me ab.
Me: Theek hai nikalva lena.

And the line goes dead. I am sitting on my chair thinking whether I should laugh on this or be worried. Then I think…maa chudaaye…April 1 hai and somebody tried to get the better of me. But I am still worried now as I write this. If I am found wounded or dead a few days from now then this might be the Biraadar cracking down on me and I don’t know what to do about this. I am not disclosing the number here because I don’t want that girl in trouble.

Cya if I live through this,
Onion

–

476488

Italicized version can be considered my simple attempt at April fool.  Beware of such callers though. The one that I received was a prerecorded clip and hence there was no reaction to what I was speaking to them. But you can get a call from real pranksters. Don’t lose it…give the pranksters some space Enjoy the April Fools’ Day.

So long,
Onion

What do you care?

I read Surely you are joking Mr. Feynman! again. I have read the book so many times that I have lost the count now. And while it’s utterly difficult for me to sit for even a few minutes and read something on the computer, this is one book which I can read even in ebook format.Reading this book has become a ritual for me now. I read each and every small thing that is there be it the Preface by Ralph Leighton or the Introduction by Albert Hibbs. And this time when I read the preface by Leighton I had to dab my eyes beneath the spects. Over four years of reading and re-reading Feynman I have come to learn that the child within me must not die and for exactly the same number of years, I have been struggling to do this.

That one person could have so many wonderfully crazy things happen to him in one life is sometimes hard to believe. That one person could invent so much innocent mischief in one life is surely an inspiration!

I cannot agree more. And the best thing that happened these summers was that I got hold of the other book: What do YOU care what other people think? After four years of sifting through about thirty different book stores and placing orders at about ten of them, I finally got this book. And I agree with one of the critics, it is a gentler book and a look into the more sophisticated but yet Feynmanish Feynman.If you ever get time, read these two books and also Feynman’s biography by James Gleick (the guy who also wrote an absolutely wonderful book on Chaos)Yours truly

To Daddu

Dear Daddu,
I am writing this post as a reply to your comment on the last post. I would have commented on the last post itself but I thought it better to make a new post.

About the incident described in the last post, I urge you to see that it is very spiced up. That is why it comes in the category ??? ????? ??? ?????? (Annals of Hall 2 is a subcategory).  I will rather describe the incident in the form it actually took place.

______________________________________

Girl: […] us se baat hui thi meri.
Boy: Kaunse Hall ka hai?
Girl: Seedha-saadha hi hai. Hall 2 ka to nahi hi hoga.
Boy: Hall 5 yaa 3?

So she said about Hall 2 and he heard it and before they could say anything…

He [angrily]: Waah! Seedha saadha hai to Hall 2 ka to nahi hi hoga.

Both of them look at him with utter bewilderment. They were obviously oblivious of his existence until then. The girl opened her mouth to say something and during the next two minutes her mouth remained that lopsided gaping hole.

He [exploding now]: Matlab Hall 2 ke to sabhi aise hi hote honge – gunde ekdum. Saare ke saare paidaishi aawaara hote honge. Clearly Hall 2 ke ek ek bande ko jaanti ho tum. Sabse baat ki hai tumne aur sab tumko aise hi lage. Seedha to koi tha hi nahi. Maarne daudte hai ladkiyon ko sab. Kyun?

Now he waits for them to react. The boy was actually tying to smile but his face looked a lop sided meat ball. The girl closed and opened her mouth a fair few times to utter a word but the effort went useless. And so since they were too shocked to demonstrate that they were’t dumb, he started again:

He [very angrily now] : Bahut hi easily generalize kar diya tumne to. Ab tumhi se rai li jayegi ki kaun seedha hai aur kaun mawaali. Bahut aasaan hai bolna par aisa karke tumne naa jaane kitne achhe ladko ka naam hi kichad me mila diya. I don’t know whether you were joking or you were serious but you clearly happen to have a pretty wrong image. Next time you generalize things yeh to dekh lo ki kya kah rahi ho. It’s simple to say stuff par iska matlab kuchh bhi kah dogi? Waah!
_____________________________________

This happened in a span of one minute. Now for your comment which I am reproducing here: 

_______________________
Bhai bolna padega — Hall 2 ka tempo high hai! Par ladki ki baat sahi hai. Hall 2 mein paidaishi gunde-mavali tuchhe kisam ke log hi hote hain. Trust me. But ye to Hall 2 ke liye garv ki baat hai na.

Vaise is kahani ke patron ke naam, jo gopniyata barkarar rakhne ke liye chhupa liye gaye hain, unhe chat par ujagar kariye zara.
_______________________

You did the very same thing. You generalized the entire thing so easily based on experiences you have had and/or you have heard. I know very well that there have been incidents in Hall 2 during our common time here. One of them was outrageous while others were petty things. All of them were blown out of proportion. One time probably for the need to sensitize the people in question about the stuff they had done. That was when Atul made an article entry on e-Meander. But most of the people who came in after that and talked on that and on other issues had there own interests and based themselves mostly on rumors and things they believed had happened.

Based on that, making a comment that Hall 2 houses only hooligans is I guess demeaning to several people who I guess are known to have made an impression. Once again, just like not everyone is a hooligan, not everyone is a saint. But is it right to generalize right away? I will refer to some other incidents:

Public humiliation of a girl at a function boasting attendance from all the sections and halls of student community or taking advantage of the anonymity one has in the crowd in Antaragni proshow and feeling up girls all over their body – should I say the same thing about the other Hall now? No! This does not authorize anyone to generalize and say that the hall in question houses only hooligans. The fact that in these cases there was no person conscious and motivated enough to sensitize people through a proper channel does NOT make these cases any less serious. The fact that one of these incidents was planned very knowingly (the public humiliation one) makes it an even serious problem. But that does not authorize me to say that the other hall houses hooligans and hooligans only because if I say so, I would mean that I am commenting the same thing about some of the seniors with whom I have interacted more than the seniors from my own hall.

And no, we are not proud of what happened. You probably took the comments above yours a bit too seriously. It was unfortunate and shameful that an incident took place in Hall 2 but Hall 2 is fortunate that the incident that took place came into public picture. They had and have a chance to actually promote and pass on a culture of respect for other members of student community taking a lesson from the misdoings of some of their fellow residents or seniors. This is NOT the case with the other hall keeping in view the fact that those incidents did not receive any public feedback on any suitable forum.

Please note that the fact that the residents of the other hall were involved in the two cases cited above is NOT a justification for what happened in Hall 2. I had to mention these incidents just to make my point.

All of these acts, happening in whatever Hall, are examples of either a considerable portion of male community of Undergraduate population of IIT Kanpur being a follower of male chauvinism or simply utter frustration about not being capable (compared to some of their own colleagues) to interact with the fairer sex. This problem is not localized to a hall. It is a general problem.  No place houses all saints and none houses all the satan.

Aapka,
Arvind 

Life moves on…

It’s that day again. Two years ago today at roughly the time of this post a sweeper in the faculty building of IIT Kanpur saw the end of a dream. My friend Swapnil had died. We had an exam that day. I remember it, Chemistry (CHM201). He never came to give that exam. He simply left us.

After his death, there were discussions. Why did he do it? Why students do this? What should be done to curb this? Was it even a suicide? And the like. That however didn’t matter much because neither did anything happen and nor did it do (not that it was possible) to Swapnil. Media however had a fields day: another way to have a go on the IIT system – how it sucked and was inappropriate and all.

I had imagined today that day. How we will all move on and forget him…a closed chapter in our lives or may be an omitted one. That I suppose is the way of the world. We all will graduate, pass out, live our lives and then wither. He however will always be young bikka, always in the second year. How much do I hate him!!

It didn’t sink in somehow at that time that he will not be there to return home and enjoy the day with his family and then come back here to miss them. To be the part of jokes, classes and things. To accompany me on Pushpak Express. To give me notes and information about lectures. To pester me with doubts. To take my lab-reports. To answer those scraps on Orkut. To accept that testimonial I wrote for him…to make more out of the moments together. He robbed us of himself.

But now I see it, it doesn’t matter much to most of the people. His parents, yes; other family members, may be, but others…well most of us are happy today that end-sems have ended and worried that placements are coming. We are busy playing games on computers, watching movies and TV shows, playing cricket, celebrating achievements, having treats in restaurants, roaming around happily or preparing for the life which is yet to come.

After his death, at a Hall function, the Hall President of Hostel Two (Satti at that time) requested DOSA to light an Agarbatti at a hand made portrait of Bikka. This was our idea of remembering him and praying for him. DOSA did that but later he said very angrily that he wasn’t ready for this and he or the Wardens, I don’t know, said that the act was done as if Bikka were a Martyr and were furious about it.

He was a weak person for those we believed he committed suicide. For us he was just a friend whom we used to tease whenever we got a chance and he would just smile at that…always. He wasn’t a Martyr. Why do you need to be a martyr to be remembered?

I just buzzed a few friends, common or otherwise, about the fact that he died today and the replies were:

1. Not the date though. Chalo Chalein MT.

[On saying that this was the date:] Yaad nahi thi mujhe. Hmm…I really don’t know what to say. I hope he finds peace. Chalo MT chalein. Ho aaye kya?

2. Hmm [and then fifteen minutes later he buzzes again and:] Indian, Indian, what did you die for? Indian says, nothing at all.

[I ask him what the hell he means. He says:] Nothin’…the futility of death…of someone ‘they’ don’t care.

[I ask him who are 'they' and he says:] Anyone…the society maybe…the authorities in this case. How long has it been?

[I remind him that it's been two years.] Two years? Okay…

3. Ohh! Any thing happening? Kuchh ho raha hai ? [He means something to remember him. And on further chat:] Kaun yaad rakhta hia yaar?

[I say then that life moves on et cetera, he agrees and...]

Khair, sone jaa raha hia kya? Lakshya dekhni ho to aaja.

4. Is it a question or reminder? Saw it on your status…to yaad aaya [I had put it on my status: Life moves on...but still...miss you Swapnil ]

[He wants a book: What do you care what other people think? by Richard Feynman and so just after the above:] Book mili? [I tell him no, so:]

5. Haan yaar. I saw your status message… was just thinking about it.

[I tell him that I couldn't help but buzz and he says:]

Haan yaar. I am sorry, I was late to respond. I was in toilet, but thinking about him.

[And with this guy I had a chat for half an hour in which we discussed a case of attempted suicide in our batch and then discussed medical complications with a girl in our batch and the fact that the former had actually sent an SMS to latter before the attempt.]

6. Kya be placement chal rahi hai and tu aisi khabar suna raha hai.

[I tell him that it's no more a khabar. He says:] I mean Yaadein. [ I apologise and close the chat window]

7. Aise yaad nahi tha, but now I do.

[Then he sends me his latest story about his two crushes and:] You got to read it now and feedback chahiye fir. Though I know you will enjoy reading it kyunki tujhe dono ke baare mein sab pata hai.

[He puts a smiley. I start reading the story transferred via Google Talk. It has an Emily Dickinson poem to start with. I read her name: Emily Dick-in-son...and so I am already enjoying reading it.]

Life moves on, that’s why it is called life. It’s dynamic, ever changing. It has no place for the dead or the static. It flows and takes things in the direction it wants. The static things, the rocks in the way, they just get eroded – memories fade away. And there is no escaping this fact. There’s no life without accepting this. So I guess the people above, they are doing the right thing. Bikka is a person of the past. I am not saying that one should remember him always and be sad all the time. But somehow, still, in my heart, I feel bad. Should we forget someone this soon? Should we move on? What should we do? Or do we even need to do something, anything? And I feel as if I am writing this post and kept that status message just to show that I remembered him when I was pouring nicotine in my burnt out body at MT and was looking back at my life. Fuck!

Light was brighter and the flowers more fragrant when you were around Bikka. This was what I had written then, this is what I am writing today too. Rest in peace. Amen!

Arvind.

PS: After posting here, I buzzed Kavi and had this chat. I am not saying it cleared my mind but Kavi did say something that ringed a bell…

_________________

Arvind: Bikka died today

remember?

Sent at 8:45 AM on Friday

Kaviraj: ohh

dont remember

and that’s bad

we all shud remember

Arvind: haan shayad

pata nahi

life has moved on

Kaviraj: oh yaar

Arvind: I am confused

I am feleing [read feeling] bad and confused

nashta kar liya?

Kaviraj: matlab…kuchh karna chahiye shayad

haan

kar liya

Arvind: k

Kaviraj: sun

aaj hi hai na

??

Arvind: haan man

Sent at 8:49 AM on Friday

Kaviraj: at least we can put some status mssg

Arvind: yaar

maine lagaya tha

but

Kaviraj: or we all shud put the same

Arvind: fir laga jaise me show off kar raha hoon

bahut bura laga

that he was our friend

Kaviraj: na na

Arvind: and that he died

Kaviraj: thode time ke liye to lagana hi chahiye

Arvind: it si somethig [read is something] for us and us alone

but then

I dunno man

I am confused

may be as solidarity yes

but I will not ask anyone else to do so

just this: Bikke…rest in peace?

or what

i dunno

Kaviraj: dont be confused….it’s not good to forget someone so soon…

Arvind: yeah man

was just writing this on my blog

couldn’t help

Kaviraj: hmm

Arvind: you should read what replies I got from some of the people I told this about

but they have moved on

can’t blame them

Kaviraj: if i were dead and i was watching you all….i’d like you all to remember me once on this day

Arvind:

so what do we put?

Sent at 8:52 AM on Friday

Kaviraj: you are good at that part

i’ll copy it

Sent at 8:54 AM on Friday

Arvind: le

yahi samajh aaya

yahi pehle bhi likha tha

Kaviraj: ok

sahi hai

Arvind: chal yaar

so raha me

Kaviraj: ok

Arvind: man dukh gaya

bye

Kaviraj: sleep tight

Sent at 9:03 AM on Friday

Kaviraj: wet dreams

Arvind:

yeah
_________________

Life moves on…

Jonah and the silver watch

“Please father, please let me have a look at it. Please let me have it just this once.” Jonah pleaded to his father.

 Jonah had seen it with father ever since he came to sense. He dearly wanted to have a look at it. But his father knew there was more to it than just having a look.

“Jonah I know what you will do to it once I give it to you. You will render it useless.”

“NO father I promise, I will not break it. It will be as good as new. Please give me this once and I promise there will be nothing wrong.Please father, please.”

And father got lost in the innocent blue of Jonah’s almond eyes.

“Okay you can have it but do not break it. Do whatever you want to but I want it back, in the same form as I am giving it to you.”

“Thank you father,” said Jonah and put his arms round his father’s waist.

Father stroked Jonah’s hair and handed him what he wanted. It was an early christmas for Jonah. For moments and moments together he just looked at it, marvelling at the beauty and the shimmer of it.

“This is boring,” said Rose, his friend.

“Then you can go,” said Jonah, his eyes still marvelling it.

“Okay then. Sit here with it, I am going.” And Rose left.

As soon as she went, Jonah closed the door. He started doing what he actually intended to and what father feared.

“I will take it apart, look at the inside and join it again. Father won’t even know.”

Jonah took it apart, carefully collected each part and observed each of them. After much observation and thinking he started to assemble it again. But, given the child in him, he failed to do so. Father was sure to get angry… ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Why am I telling this story? I am telling this story because I think human way of understanding things or atleast trying to do so is in many ways similar to what Jonah did. For long, we have been following a reductionist approach in many fields and in solving our problems. Be it physics, life sciences, business, psychology or problems of ecological, social, political and economic nature, in most of these things all we do is to break things up into more manageable, simpler pieces. It is a useful method. Seeing that it has yielded results till now, the method has a value to it. But as our understanding goes ever so deep and as the world progresses, we need much more than reducing things. It’s like a jigsaw puzzle. What we have done till now in most of the cases is that we have taken individual parts and we have done a helluva lot study on them without giving much thought to what I think is the Bigger Picture, the whole puzzle itself. With our progress the things that effect us are becoming increasingly interwoven or let me correct myself : things are now being revealed to be increasingly interwoven. It is no longer a good idea to break down things and analyze them and putting the fullstop. We are in a period of transition where our understanding is shifting from simple linear ideas to lateral and non-linear phenomena and no such system can be understood through reductionism. Indeed nobody can deny specialization but we do need to have a look, may be crude but still, a look over the entire picture. A look to how the pieces connect. A look on their interrelationship and their relationship to the complete whole we try to understand. And this approach is needed in almost all the walks of life. The idea is not new. It was always there. It developed almost parallel to reductionism, ever since Kanada propunded the theory of Anu. The hindu philosophy has had a firm history of holism. The Gestalt psychologist propounded the same theory with reference to the human mind. The debate of whole and parts has been a long standing issue in philosophy and elsewhere. The Gestalts appeal a lot. Especially the whole idea of emergence with reference to figur-ground perception phenomenon. For example, look at the  picture at the beginning of this post. The dog here ( hope you are able to see it ) is not identified by first identifying its parts and then inferring the dog from the component parts. Instead the dog is perceived as a whole, all at once. This is in line with what I want to suggest here. The individual parts of dog do not make sense here if the problem concerns an understanding of the dog. You may identify the components but if you want to see the dog, you need to realise in the back of your mind the relationship between the individual parts; the configuration. The phenomenon is called Emergence in Gestalt Psychology. What I want to suggest is the same age old stand against reductionism : The sum of parts do not make the whole. Whole is not merely a sum of parts. Whole is larger the the sum total of the perceptions of its parts. It is the parts plus the configuration. What we are missing out is the configurational properties. We know the whole anatomy of human body. Given parts of human body however, can we make a human? The configuration is missing. One might go as far as suggesting that this is what the whole concept of soul, atman or mind is. I will not enter into the discussion of what the configuration is. My point is made.

To be continued

Dreams

Chase your own dreams… 

Your dreams are the only thing that you shall ever truly own. You are a unique person and your goals and dreams must be your own. So chase your own dreams and not the dreams of other people. Don’t just do a thing because all the other bozos are doing it. Have your own reasons.

…and break them

Break your dreams. Now what does that mean? There are two ways to break a dream: Number One – surrender it to reality and Two – make it a reality. Go for the second option, make them reality. Walt Disney once said, “If you can dream it, you can do it.”  So dream it and do it.

–

 

On Sex

Just a thought. What follows is what I believe. The reader may not agree with it and may think it is too far fetched. It might be but to me it is bliss.

What is sex? A sensual, exciting way for reproduction. Or is it something more than that or may be something entirely different? When a child is in the womb, it gets nutrition through the umbilical cord. It is the tube that connects foetus to placenta and consists one or two arteries and a vein. It is not made up of ordinary skin or connective tissue and there are NO nerves in the chord. It might be that there is no sensation for the foetus except in the form of nutrition that reaches through the umbilical cord. Isn’t it a bit like samadhi? No sensation of the world but still sentient. It is the highest state defined by Yog, the state of joy as I mentioned in the post On Joy . What I mean to say is that the baby is in such a state within the womb. The state of joy.When a child is born, it cries. But does it do that in the womb? I think the answer is : NO. Why is child birth so difficult? I think the basic reason might be the reluctance to separate. The reluctance from abandoning the communion which the baby in the mother’s womb represents. That there can be a unity more profound than this is an idea inconceivable to me. It is this reason that many species follow what is called the Lotus Birth wherein the umbilical cord is not clamped and cut but is allowed to disconnect by itself. See the spiritual implications. Why destroy what might be the most joyful moments in one’s life?

This communion is felt by the mother as well. That she can conceive a soul and that she is the creator herself is the greatest work ever done. To BE is the greatest miracle of all. She is the manifestation of this miracle.

Now why am I discussing these things. This post was meant to be about sex. The dots connect. Here’s how :

Sex might be a man’s search for his mother or the joy he had when he was being conceived. Free from sensation yet sentient, the highest state of all. It is the drive to find that communion again. To be one, to lose himself. The same drive, in the sense of unity applies to women but there might be more in store for them.For women, it is the manifestation of her ability to create life, a manifestation of the greatest miracle of all : to BE. The drive to use the power bestowed to her. When a child is born, not only is the child born – the mother is also born. Before that she was an ordinary woman; through the birth she becomes the mother. And a mother is totally different from a woman : her whole existence becomes qualitatively different. Osho said this and I think this drive to a qualitatively different existence is what sex is for a woman.

I know it is too far fetched and too premature seeing that I myself have not had any sex. Nor can I be expected to have it soon. I think even those who have had it never thought about it this way but it certainly is the path to the sex sanctified. To me it can’t be something which is just a biological mechanism of a race’s survival. The idea of self realisation through it somehow appeals to me.The post has some of my own thoughts plus inputs from a Reiki session I attended.

On Appearance and Reality – Part 2

In this second and concluding post on appearance of objects and reality, I try to give my own judgement on the controversy between the two views presented by the sceptic ( Russell ) and Phillips on the matter of our knowledge of the external physical world.

The statement 2 ( please refer to the previous post ) presents a view ( of our knowledge of the external physical world ) which scores over the view presented by the statement 1 in the sense that in the view presented by statement 1, the sceptic suggests that reality exists independent of the observer and that the sense-perception leads us only to an inference about real objects from what is immediately known. Sceptic suggests that we need some other principle ( some sort of a hidden variable theory ) that might help us to know whether what we see is apparent or real. But the possibility that such a principle might be irrational and/or beyond humans takes us closer to the view prersented by statement 2. If reality is somehow hidden from us and is purely inferential or accessible only inferentially or that we can not access it directly, then is there a use for such a reality? I personally see no objective and subjective sense of something which remains hidden from us forever. To postulate such a reality is useless in my view. I regret being empiricist in my approach but that’s the way I think. In practical situations the various things, concepts, data et cetera we use are in a way result of sense-data and sensations and since we have come successfully this far with these notions, the concept of a real table hidden from us is redundant. It’s better to think that what we perceive is indeed the real object. We can always refine our notions if we do find exceptions in future and that seems more pragmatic than holding adherence to a hidden variable theory ( what we perceive is sense-data rather than the reality as such ) for which we have no objective scientific or subjective scientific or rational justification.

They say that in philosophy if you adhere to one of the two conflicting ideologies, there is something philosophically wrong with you. It is better to try a democratic approach. But to me, it seem that in this case it is better to adhere to things we know from our experience, the only tool we have got to be a part of this ever changing world.

Concluded

On Appearance and Reality – Part 1

I was reading this piece written by Bertrand Russell. It actually forms the first chapter of his 1912 work The Problems Of Philosophy. Russell argues that the real table, if there exists one, is not known to us immediately ( used in the sense of ‘directly‘). Rather the properties revealed to us are the observer dependent attributes termed as the sense data which are not the same as table but are related to the real table. D.Z. Phillips, a renowned religious philosopher countered Russell’s view. Unfortunately I couldn’t find that article, titled : What can I know ?, on the net ( which is surprising ) but I will sum it up.

He basically said that we infact do see and sense the real table instead of just the sense data.His whole point was that such a doubt about the real table being perceived or not was a waste of philosophy and that:

“ Why should we doubt what seems to be so evident as to not need stating? “

He said that Russell’s argument put forward two realms : a realm of the real objects and a realm of the sense data associated with them. For example, a stick appears to be bent when dipped half in water. As per Russell, we have a realm where stick is bent and a realm where it is not. Phillips’s point is that being bent and being straight are attributes of the same stick so all we need is the notion of stick and not the demarcation of real objects and the sense data. Now I reproduce last two paragraphs of Phillips’s piece ( italics original ).

The unintelligibility involved in the notions of two realms, one of sense-data, and the other of external objects, is a far-reaching one. It may seem as if, irrespective of what we say of the latter, sense can be made of the notion of the mind and its sensory-experiences. After all, according to the sceptic ( here Russell ), this is our necessary starting-point in our search for knowledge. But, logically, this is not the case. If we sever the connection between the notion of experience and our normal surroundings, tthe notion of the mind and its experiences will itself become unintelligible.

Consider the simple instruction, “Think of a harbour.” I can not obey it unless I know something about harbours. I must be able to recognize a harbour. Unless I can do this, someone will retort when I describe what I am thinking, “No, that’s not a harbour. You’re thinking of something else.” My thinking, my mental image of a harbour, is not self-authenticating. It is by reference to harbours and our dealings with them that the correctness of my thinking will be assessed. I can obey the instructions, “Think of a triangle,” or “Think of the colour ‘red,’” only because I have a wider acquaintance with triangles and colours. But the sceptic thinks that we can strip away these wider surroundings and still speak intelligibly of the mind and its ideas. To him, the mind, so conceived, is unproblematic. What is problematic, it is claimed, is how we can ever know that we are in contact with the external world. The reverse is true. If we forget our external surroundings, the notion of the mind and its ideas becomes a meaningless concatenation of sensory data. The intelligibility of private experiences depends on external surroundings that we share.

Now consider the following two statements ( first one is from Russell’s article and the second from Phillips’s piece ) :

1. “The real table [ that is believed to exist in the normal physical surrounding ] is not immediately known to us at all, but must be an inference from what is immediately known [ namely, sense-data of the table ].“

2. “If we sever the connection between the notion of experience [ that is, sensation of sense-data ] and our normal [ physical ] surroundings, tthe notion of the mind and its experiences will itself become unintelligible.“

In this post, I shall give my interpretation of the argument that underlies the statement 2, which is advanced in criticism of the position expressed by statement 1. In the next post I shall present my own judgement on the controversy between the views presented by statements 1 and 2 on the matter of our knowledge of the external physical world.

The statement 1 suggests, in a way, that reality does not exist independent of the observer and vice-versa. Only that statement 1 is a more pragmatic way of suggesting this argument. What statement 2 suggests is that there exists a real table and that we can not know the real table. We can only infer that a real table, independent of our observations, exists which is why we are obtaining the sense-data. This indirect nature of realizing the existence of a real table is what is suggested by the phrase ‘not immediately known to us.’ Scientifically the statement 1 is in line with the Quantum Hidden Variable Theories, forwarded by the likes of de Broglie, Bohm et cetera where the reality is independent of the observation process but is some how hidden from the observer. The statement 2 is in line with the usual Quantum epistemology. In fact statement 2 suggests a empiricist view point towards the reality, the solipsist belief.

It might not be true to talk about a table independently of the observer. The observation process involves previous experiences and that segregating experience ( apparent world ) and the physical surroundings will create problems like the one sampled by Phillips ( the harbour problem ).

Suppose someone asks a person to “imagine a market.” Unless the person has a prior notion of as to what a market is, he will not be able to imagine it ( and describe it correctly ). The kind of seperation that we are led to here will cause the person to not be able to imagine the market. This is because we, by statement 1, are undermining the correspondence between the observed and the real. So unless we regard that our experiences indeed pertain to reality, the notion of two seperate realms ( the mind and the surroundings ) is unintelligible. But when we do regard this, we have already gone past the notion of seperation.

To be concluded