Season of Memories

Let us admit it, we Indians are absolutely in love with the monsoon. We treat the season Like a parent tracking it's baby's progress and gushing over it's every burp, barf and belch. And not to forget how we dutifully incorporate it in our every conversation. Whether it drizzles or pours,the news channels always have a hour hour special on it and with such huge publicity, it could put even Rakhi Sawant to shame.

I share a love-hate relationship with monsoon. As long as I am safe inside my house getting warm with a hot cuppa tea, I enjoy the rains pattering on the roof. But the moment I have to step out in the same rainfall I was enjoying a few moments back, my mood does a flip and all I do is grumble, complain ad rant. So here is a mixed bag of monsoon related memories in no specific order :

Memory #1
I remember once my school bus had got stuck in muck and tilted to one side but not in a precarious manner. All the kids were howling and someone's father appeared and I remember his dramatic entry too well wherein he yelled for his child and then scooped the girl and went off. Soon a few more parents appeared and the howling subsided as they took home the noisy sources. Only handful of us remained, each glancing hopefully outside only to be disappointed.

Memory #2
Once when I was at my native place, a woman was killed when the roof of a tank got swept away during heavy rains and came flying at her. For the next few months, I always scanned the skies warily during monsoons for a flying tank lid.

Memory #3
We used to create these mini tents with umbrella and play a new version of ghar-ghar.

Memory #4
I have learnt not to fall for all-season sandals because thanks to them I arrived home but only after the ritual of slipping every ten meters when it was raining badly.

Memory #5
Long back when waterproof bags were not a rage, the water managed to seep inside my bag and drown every book within. The happiness I felt knowing that I won't have textbooks to study for a while was out of this world.

Memory #6
I loved getting drenched in the rains. My building friends set a date and if it rained that day we would rush down and dance. Some aunty would get generous and serve us onion bhajiyas. Absolute bliss.

Memory #7
The 26/7 floods saw me shifting goods from the houses on ground floor to my place. The next morning, I was scrubbing utensils in the rain because we had no water supply. But the memory that sticks is having breakfast, lunch and dinner with the building folks all united by a disaster but sharing the common hope of sailing through it and rebuilding our lives.

Memory #8
The rains make you thoughtful. I have lost count of the times when I sit at the window and reminiscence over life. Sometimes they veer towards the negative aspects but the thoughts match the weather appropriately - dark,gloomy and moist.

Memory #9
Last year, we college people created a ruckus asking for a swine-flu holiday. The crowd was ready to bash up the cruel Princy but seeing the crowd, his expressions changed. That was the first time I was part of the demonstration and it would have been more fun if stone-throwing was on the agenda but I was sorely disappointed.

Memory #10
This is the best memory of all. Every time it rains heavily and if I am travelling by train, I scamper towards the door and stand there to let the rain patter on me. Such pleasures I tell you.

Girls jus wanna have fun

My life seems to have stuck in a rut and my daily routine is an endless cycle consisting on mainly two activities- eating and sleeping. While that might seem like a dream schedule for most folks but for me it was a hopeless situation to be in. A trip to Pune did refresh me and help me put on a few pounds, but then I was back to square one in terms of my schedule.

Now one of the few grouses I have about being a girl (or should I say women since I am now in my 20s) is that there are absolutely nil chances of a night out with friends. No amount of convincing works and the end result is that I end up sulking the day later after listening to all the fun other had. So was quite happy when I got an invitation for an all girls night out!

For a few minutes, it's hard to believe that the permission part was so easily handled all thanks to the spanking clean reputation of my friend. Her generous mom fed up chicken fried rice and manchurian which was absolutely finger-licking good and off we were to the privacy of the room.

Now the fun part of this all-gals extravaganza is that we didn't have to think up of any activity and settled for the one which comes easily to us - chatting. I don't even remember the topics now considering we chatted for around five hours. For a person who crashes to bed at ten, it was a miracle I stayed awake for so long.

After discussing about every single person we know, we had inadvertently started talking about marriage and it was with dread that I realised that such thoughts occupied so much time of our living moments. Like my friend rightly said "Now we are talking like twenty-two year old people". Oh did I add that all the talks were not without a generous sprinkling of giggles?

3 am seemed too early a time to sleep for a night out so we fished out Uno cards. Now the problem is I don't know how to play the game (don't you drop open you mouth in horror) so the two of them ganged up against me to the extent that I was finding it bloody hard to hold so many cards in my hand. Finally I learned the ropes of game and managed to beat them.Ha! After a few more games and having stuffed our mouth with chips and Pepsi (it's impossible to imagine life without these artery-choking and teeth-eroding stuff), we forced ourselves to sleep at 5 am. All the time I was hoping someone would walk the empty lane near our window and scare their wits out. hard luck though.

I realised that going out with gals is therapeutic. We are so much surrounded with male friends, that somehow I have to stop myself from blabbering about my latest shopping trip because the responses I get are usually nodding and if I am lucky they might even grunt a few indecipherable words. So I recommend a night out for all those female souls who feel all gagged up.And to help them I have put up a list of all the things which you should never miss on a girlie pajama get-together.

Things to do on a all-gal night out (in no order of importance whatsoever)
1. Chuck the damn diet and stuff yourself.
2. Talk about every thing you bought in the last few months, even if it includes a hairbrush.
3. Crib about at least one person who has been giving you a tough time.
4. Don't fall asleep before 5 am and if someone attempts to suggest hitting the sack before that, react with horrified expressions.
5. Talk like a feminist and conclude that women are way superior than men.
6. Confess to something which draws gasps and other extreme reactions.
7. Snatch each others cellphones and read all the private messages loudly with all the right expressions.
8. Give the night-care ritual of brushing, washing, cleansing, toning, moisturizing and what not a miss and should anyone attempt to do so, accuse them of being a traitor to womanhood.
9. Play cards with rules modified according to convenience.
10. Giggle, giggle and giggle.

All the best gals!

Torn Between Two Worlds

I think enough has been said about Indian woman's meteoric rise to a level where she has consolidated her position as an equal in our patriarchal society. India has come home to the idea of women empowerment and that is something to cheer about.

But along with this empowerment, comes the thorn of making difficult decisions in life. This whole concept of freedom hasn't yet managed to touch even the semi-urban areas, forget rural areas. The whole idea of educating a girl child for some people at least is to snatch off a suitable guy for their daughter. Educated girls are in vogue baby.

The girl, happy that her parents are so keen to educate her, puts in her best efforts and more often than not has a very bright academic future ahead of her. The girl with her new founded independence and flush with confidence gets a decent job and suddenly she is in this league of 'successful women'.

The parents proudly show off the latest additions in their house thanks to the extra money coming their way. 'Now only if we find a suitable groom for her' they think. The girl is now a woman who has managed to break from her cocoon now views the world with a fresh perspective and is now all starry-eyed and ambitious.

Time for some drama. Parents set off on groom-hunting with the educational qualifications and job earning them brownie points. The girl at the most will object weakly but then has to give up in face of their parent's blackmailing. She gets married and they live happily ever after. End of story? Hardly.

You see this woman wishes to keep her job but now is burdened with additional responsibilities towards her new household. Her typical schedule includes waking up at god-forsaken hours, cooking up a meal and dashing off to work. And all this time if she is lucky she might get some assistance from her husband or his family, but the chances are slim. She slogs at work, jostles for space in the oxygen-deprived train compartment and then cooks the dinner. I don't even need to mention her situation when she has kids.

This basically sums up the life of an average Indian women, the keyword being average. Of course most people would argue and might criticize about my regressive summation of our life, but take a honest look around and you will see what I mean. It is not about you or me, it's the story of the majority.

The problem with us is that we are revered like Devis and people expect us to have ten hands. While the typical Indian women wants to keep pace with the world, there are number of commitments which she can't ignore. For once, we are an emotional lot and most often than not we are torn between the two worlds and desperately try to strike a balance. The same woman who records an exponential growth at her company would still quit her job to take care of her family. All for love. What I do expect from the male lot is to respect her. While this all sounds so simple, trust me, most woman haven't yet managed to get the respect they deserve even in the urban environment.

I found this really profound e-mail being circulated during Woman's Day and I had an 'Aha' moment because it mirrors my feelings. In much beautiful words though.

Tomorrow you may get a working woman, but you should marry her with these facts as well.

Here is a girl, who is as much educated as you are;
Who is earning almost as much as you do;

One, who has dreams and aspirations just as
you have because she is as human as you are;

One, who has never entered the kitchen in her life just like you or your sister haven't, as she was busy in studies and competing in a system
that gives no special concession to girls for their culinary achievements.

One, who has lived and loved her parents & brothers & sisters, almost as
much as you do for 20-25 years of her life;

One, who has bravely agreed to leave behind all that, her home, people who love her, to adopt your home, your family, your ways and even your family ,name

One, who is somehow expected to be a master-chef from day #1, while you sleep oblivious to her predicament in her new circumstances, environment and that kitchen

One, who is expected to make the tea, first thing in the morning and cook
food at the end of the day, even if she is as tired as you are, maybe more,
and yet never ever expected to complain;
to be a servant, a cook, a mother,
a wife, even if she doesn't want to; and is learning just like you are as
to what you want from her;
and is clumsy and sloppy at times and knows that you won't like it if she is too demanding, or if she learns faster than you;

One, who has her own set of friends, and that includes boys and even men at her workplace too, those, who she knows from school days and yet is willing to put all that on the back-burners to avoid your irrational jealousy, unnecessary competition and your inherent insecurities;

Yes, she can drink and dance just as well as you can, but won't, simply
because you won't like it, even though you say otherwise

One, who can be late from work once in a while when deadlines, just like yours, are to be met;

One, who is doing her level best and wants to make this most important,
relationship in her entire life a grand success, if you just help her some
and trust her;

One, who just wants one thing from you, as you are the only one she knows in your entire house - your unstained support, your sensitivities and most importantly - your understanding, or love, if you may call it.

But not many guys understand this......

Please appreciate "HER"

The Five Lessons of My Life

To be very frank, as a child I used to find it really hard to stay close to reality. For me, ‘seeing is believing’ and not once did I doubt the authenticity of what fascinated me. For once I was hugely influenced by Bollywood. I used to watch with huge, saucer-shaped eyes the scenic locations and the action scenes, not to forget the quintessential romance consisting of mainly song and dance sequences and running around the trees. But then, there was always something to pull me back to reality. For example, when I tried to float the dupatta in the air so that it would land softly on me but it had disastrous consequences. The dupatta, unfortunately was entangled in the fan and then I realized that Bollywood is not so real. So lesson#1 was to never ever believe Bollywood!

That was my ‘stop-acting-like-a-fool-and-get-real’ phase that I encountered quite early in life. I opened my eyes to the world but made sure that I kept my rose-tinted glasses aside. Unfortunately civilization takes strides while you manage to trundle along. It was tough to comprehend the world around you and you had to peel of the layers off people to see what actually lay underneath and more often than not, I was repulsed by the grim underbelly of someone’s personality. Lesson#2 was to never judge a person on the first meeting itself.

Okay, I got to admit it I suck at gossip. For half of the time I can’t comprehend why people seem to be so interested in the love life of some stranger. If that person is my friend then yes I would be curious to know the facts, but the truth will only come from the concerned person. So I don’t understand why people dissect other’s lives and at the risk of sounding sexist, I say it’s a female domain majorly. But the downside of showing disinterest is that you usually end up being alone and lose out on a major chance to socialize. The worst part is when you show undue enthusiasm to actively participate and when you end up saying something you shouldn’t have. Lesson#3 – Listen, nod, add a few over-the-top expressions but never speak in a way that might turn out against you. The real gossip mongers will always find out a way out of the mess anyway, so never enroll to be a scapegoat.

I find it hard to be a chamcha. I never make hasty judgments (thanks to lesson#2) and being the hopeless optimist that I am, I always try to look out for something good in the person instead of negative qualities. But nowadays I find it really hard to notice someone’s bright side for the simple reason they got no good left in them! And I reach this conclusion after being repeatedly hurt by that person. I give chances but after a limit you can’t take it. So such people move to my ‘evil’ list and after that I find it increasingly difficult to maintain a straight face while talking to such people. So I find it surprising that two people who still talk ill of each other but maintain to act as if nothing happened for the simple reason that they share a symbiotic relation. Give some, take some. So even if it was tough to me to accept, I realized I was losing out on a lot of things by giving the loser thunderous expressions. Lesson#4- Don’t be a chamcha, but at least be cordial with the villian.

Chocolate or butterscotch ice-cream? If you had asked me this question a few years ago I would be in a singular state of mind- confused. So my thoughts would be-I like chocolate but I had it a few days ago so should I try butterscotch? But what if it doesn’t turn out good enough? Is there a third flavor? So you see when the mind is clouded with silly questions, it was tough to take a decision. To top it all, there would be people advising you about what your next course of action should be. I am okay with advice, but I hate it when someone forces me. And I am not talking only about ice-cream, I am talking about life. If there is anything that I have learned in the twenty-two years of my existence is that the best decisions were the ones taken by me. Alone. Advice is great and you need to do a good deal of thinking on your options but you shouldn’t accept anyone’s advice just because they had a great track record. They are humans, baby and as vulnerable to fads and foibles as you. So my lesson#5 is to never drown out your inner voice because it’s the only asset you got.

So I sum up the major lessons of my life although I have learnt a few minor lessons too. Like never lie to mom that you didn’t steal cookies when you have crumbs on you face, never dream about Subway sandwiches because you wont be able to concentrate the whole day and to never run when not necessary because most of the time you end up on your face. Minor lessons but they are life altering. Trust me.

Waterproof Farewell

Well, to begin with, I attended the farewell party of my B.E. batch on the 30th of April. Everyone was quite excited about it because apparently this was the first 'official' party organised by the college for the outgoing batch. So the girls all looked pretty decked up in saris and the guys looked handsome in their best formals.

It is quite normal to expect lots of teary goodbyes and hours spent reminiscing cherished moments spent in the college. But I suprised myself by keeping my emotions under check. For a girl who cries at the drop of a hat, all I did was sniffle with moist eyes.

Imagine a situation where you have been diagnosed with some terminal illness. You know your days on this planet are numbered and this realisation occurs after much self-denial so that when the final moment arrives, you will have done enough things to make you happy. When our life becomes time-bound, we start sticking to our 'Things-to-do' list more diligently,carefully chalking out plans so that you can tick off one item after another. I guess most of my friends are in the same situation.

When I was in Third Year, I knew the end of college was imminent and suddenly I found myself observing time. When in the early years of college, you wouldn't even notice certain things around you,owing largely to the 'taken-for-granted' attitude. But now, I started taking in the atmosphere and made a more conscious effort to personalize my experiences. For example, I started enjoying time at the lake occasionally feeding the fishes and enjoying the sight of the school of fishes breaking the calm of water to catch bits of food. Or for that case, checking out benches where I has scribbled random thoughts or etched my name out during a boring lecture. Or checking out every single dish in the canteen which you didn't try in the previous years. Or hugging someone for no reason.

When your life is spent experiencing such things, you hardly get time to mourn the end. You happily accept it because you have a buffer of beautiful memories which will protect you while you hurl down a dark chasm of uncertainty and darkness. I realize that farewells are necessary to help you filter out people and stay in touch with those who really mattered. We were insecure when we stepped from school to junior college and then to senior college but in spite of the hundreds of friendships that were forged, we tend to remember only those who have touched our lives. So let us not think of this farewell as something nasty and a grim reminder of the big bad world ahead of us. Let us think of it as an opportunity to enjoy a new phase in our life where we will be enjoying our hard-earned money and well-deserved freedom. Cheers to that!

Euthanasia For Our Education System

I have a big problem with this education system and I believe I have a right to comment on it because I am product of this system. We have continued to churn out brilliant students who make us proud, yet we read grim news reports of how a graduate is forced to opt for menial and less deserving jobs. Why this great divide exists? For once, it has nothing to do with the child being schooled in a private or public institute. As a student for the past nineteen years, I have been able to figure out a bit about what ails our system.

Problem No. 1: Lack of proper environment
It is difficult to concentrate when the fan above you is whirling in a precarious manner and at the same time endure the stink from nearby toilet. You cannot expect kids to be mature and adjust to such circumstances, especially when they know they are better off at home. Believe me; the scenario I am describing is not that of a public school, it’s a reality even in private institute which charges hefty fees. For kids, schools should be something colourful and not drab and dull like the chuna on walls. Unfortunately not much has been done to create a conducive environment to stimulate their minds. Don’t you think kids would be much enthusiastic about sitting in a room complete with colorful benches and beautiful graffiti?

Problem No. 2: Too syllabus oriented
We can’t blame the teachers when they have a deadline to adhere to. The syllabus is defined so that the school may be able to cover the topics suited to the aptitude of students. But when did it become such a grave necessity? From what I know most of the professors are in such a big hurry to complete the syllabus that they take out the fun of learning. I can understand for board exams where uniformity is expected, but surely the other classes can be spared this treatment.

Problem No. 3: Disinterested professors
I don’t mean to disrespect the profession, but most people think teaching is a piece of cake. Nowadays, it has become increasingly difficult to find professors who have a passion for teaching. And the situation is worse in colleges because most of them are not answerable to anyone. In schools, if a teacher is not found performing as expected, the management tends to take corrective action on basis of feedback by parents. But in colleges, the opinion of students is rarely taken into account and even if they do complain, the management has its hands tied up because it is increasingly difficult to find a replacement. So life goes on and we stick back to sanskars taught by elders- learn to adjust.

Problem No. 4: More qualification = Good professor
Now this is the most nonsensical equation ever devised in the history of mankind. Institutes accept people for position of a teacher on the basis of the number of degrees they carry. What they fail to realize is that a large number of degrees does not make one capable to connect with students. It requires certain skills which are grossly overlooked during interviews and the result is a disinterested audience during lectures.

Problem No. 5: Too many choices and too many decisions
We all boast about the large number of choices available for the young generation, but I believe it only leads to more confusion. What is worse is that we are compelled to make the choices and that too the right ones at a very young age. How can you expect a teenager to decide whether to opt for Science or Commerce or Arts stream? Rather than getting influenced from our relatives and peers, I believe if we introduced a bit of every stream in portion, the student will get a brief idea about what to expect. That will make the decision making process a less headache inducing thing.

Problem No. 6: Less co-curricular activities
You must all be familiar with changes that accompany the transition from ninth grade to tenth ‘board’ standard. The first thing to be banned is participation in extra and co-curricular activities. And I am not talking about restrictions imposed by parents; I mean the rules laid down by school. They will conveniently use the time assigned for sports, art and crafts for completing the syllabus of some boring subject. Students will be banned from attending any sports events and field trips on the pretext of board exams. I agree academics are essential but don’t we risk losing a budding footballer in our midst if you ban him from the ground?

Problem No. 7: Too textbook oriented
All we have to do is mug up the contents of a thin textbook and we are sure to ace the exams. The result is that when we move to higher studies, it’s a bit of shock because we are expected to finish off a big book in a matter of few days. It is very important to inculcate the habit of reading in students because it is one asset which will help them sail through.

With this I end my thesis. I do have a lot to rant about but this post sums up the major points of my observation and experience of being a part of a rotten education system that continues to chug along happily while taking in hopeful students at one station and offloading a disgruntled bunch at the next station. I hope this train derails soon; we are in dire need of better modes of transport for students.

I.P.L.

The Indian Premier League (I.P.L.) auction for season three has opened a can of worms with the Pakistani players cold-shouldered by various franchisees. While many have cited the proposition as ‘too risky’ owing to visa issues, we all know it is just tip of the iceberg.

We must not forget the full form of I.P.L. - Indian Premier League and yesterday’s incident reinforces the fact that we are in no mood to forget 26/11. What surprises me is the sudden rise in anti- Pak sentiments. We all know that relations between the two nations are cold but it has always been discussed in hush-hush manner. One reason that can be attributed to this change was the class of people that were being targeted. Middle class has always been at the receiving end of mayhem caused but terrorists and unfortunately many of them have accepted it as a way of life. The rich crowd was relatively untouched and I use the term relatively because I know there scars and wounds still exist. When this group of elite, air-kissing and (mostly) SoBo public saw their swish hangout places turn into a picture of destruction and devastation, they were shaken to the core and they realized they have to break out of the trance. Forced to face a fight or flight situation, they had no option to break open their protective shell and fight in their own way. Many finally realized that walking around with high heels is not going to keep their feet safe from the muck.

With I.P.L. being dominated with Indian buyers, this unique show of solidarity has sent out a strong message that we won’t take it lying down. Although on a personal level I do feel bad for the Pak players because they have to earn their livelihood and this tournament is a bonus for anyone. But with Pakistan in self-denial mode about 26/11, a diplomatic approach is not going to help. Since we have given the royal ignore to their heroes, it might just stir up something positive in our dormant and sterile neighbours. After all, peace practiced due to fear is nothing but a suppressed war.