mother hubbard does laundry...

its become a weekend activity.... a ritual,the sanctity of which must be upheld at any cost.....
the week's laundry...
all that accumulates.
finally saturday morning dawns....
the newer technological products like washing machines havent reached our good ole establishment as yet.thus 5 am...i fortify myself,and dispel all fears that one day i might open my cupboard to find that i have no clean underwear or socks...
i go through the drill.... soak it all in the largest bucketful of warm soap water...spend all my energy in scrubbing them,till i am drained.put it all out in the sun... neatly spread and all possibilities of creases are effectively dealt with.
as soon as they are half dry i whisk my fabindias and other khadis and blah to dip them in 0.75 dilute starch solution.
as i have no inclination nor the energy in me to wash anymore.... i choose to continue to live in my denims....they are spared the treatment that mite seem to them like spartan cruelty.
it is the the greatest feeling to fold them in the evening... the fresh smell of detergent lingers... and the warm sunshine is.... just so warm....
the next best feeling to this is..... ummm...
jim morrison and beer.
making out in the afternoon rain....
driving into a sunset....
all of that..

.... in the name of love...

ive meandered through it.ive dwelt in it.
ive glowed in it. ive risen in it.
ive loved.ive been loved.and i loved it.

ive been so in love
felt walled in...thought i was protected.
lost perspective...thought i was secure.
felt happiest.. thought i was special.
obsessed...no thats exaggerated....but i thought it was passion.

i never realized that i was losing myself.
my independence.my confidence.my beliefs.
i dont need to verbalize everything.
i believe that soulmate and all is just hokum.
i was compromising on my precious,private cerebullar space.

i want to be totally alone again... and not to miss you every time im alone.
i want to think,analyze and criticize.. not to dish it to you as entertaining cute shit.
i can be a fallen human by myself.. i dont need a pair of human arms to fall into.

yet always...
i will demand respect bcoz im a person.. not coz im a woman.
i will look for a shoulder.... bcoz i will cry if and when i when i have to.
i will have my mood swings and be difficult...and expect you to toleate it all.
i will,sometime soon,be wanting to have you around... but wont call you.
i will sway to the the music in my head all by myself.
i will brood ,and be grumpy... bcoz i love being grumpy.

i sound bitter,self centered,and betrayed....
none of it.
i just hurt myself.
i loved too much.
it wasnt your fault.the unsaid suits me.

now i shall return to being me.
thank you.
and au revoir.

morning raga.

it isnt like they show on tv..... pale sunshine and coffee mug.sleepy headed and dreamy smile.....

muy dawn.... 5 am... its stilll dark...
just back from a jog....(jog,walk,jog,walk......)dark.... the sky wasnt pink and golden.
the street lamps were on... and the traffic was giuded by the head lights.the few people on the pavements huddled around small fires....
thru this very urban dawn i heard some stray avian strains... and felt the dew moistening my jacket.
hooded figures huffed and by occasionally.....and i panted on...
back in muy room.... its still dark outside.
against a now dark blackish purple sky i see the black outlines of the decidous branches... scantily leaved.
there is no music for jumpstarting the day..... no reminders on littel yellow post its.
its just me.... staring thru muy window.....
im so content.so at peace.
im encouraged towards i know not what.
im energized..... and looking to channelize it.
im in love... with fresh air and what i have.
im talking to my ma.... a call just ike that.
im sleepy now.... so i shall shower and go to bed.
the end of my day.....

amoeba

thats what my mood is like rite now...
im shapeless.
i feel that my thoughts are bubble gummy.
im moving.... but no singular movement to muy motility.
i am a simple uni- grey- cellular thing.
i have a membranous covering... but man, am i thick skinned at times.
i absorb and process almost anything thru muy system....its always food for thought.
i am an amoeba...tremendously pseodopodic and extremely boring.

DISULLUSIONED

im not what im being made to be....
im not what all including myself think i am....
a shift in perspective....
intellect vs matter
spirit vs soul
substance vs fibr.
love vs being loved
needed vs wanting
and i am lost in trying to find the meaning.....

scraps for survival.

std...08163....
at times at the most desperate of moments.... and at times absent.
i love them.... welcome them.. look forward to them......


quirky....
we ve proved that even idea at times needs an idea or two.... and that connenctivity form rurals is poss.... gujarat and rajashtan to karnataka and pondicherry.we ve rejoiced bcoze we fit in anywhere and concluded that we dont fit in anywhere....we tried in vain,to figure out coffee table books,society wine and ....
we ve discussed the future... the job prospective and what not.... but not for ourselves....
we are happy.... and vague.,... and comfortable.

chintoo....
the ever faithful four legged guy around here..... will always be there at the end of my day... and his...and will walk me to the bus stop every morning.... before he goes on his rounds for the day....

punkk uzz.....
always there to listen to what im formulating.... a verbal outline before i frame the eventual blueprint.he always has the answers..... or otherwise pretends he does... till i find the real answer.he will cradle my lows... my mood swings...my radically difficult problems at times.....i love this dude....one cant get a better guy...
i just wish hed be honest about his age....lol.

deepak,.,..
my best bud here.he shall freak only if you spell his name dipak.... nothing else would otherwise lead him to react violently.the most staid and dependable guy.an integral part of college.will need a wake up call half an hour before an exam. and will be in a foul mood if sleep is compromised specifically for academia.lost at times,... but (thankfully) never for long.

ndtv....
simply... my lifeline....

everything else....
thank you for having contributed in ways that you have.
.. my cell...
. a literary print....
..my floaters....
.. my cycle....
i love you all.....

security.....
knowing that the electricity is not going out for lunch any time soon.....
alert.. im having a great hair day... in "love- at- first- sight" with my tresses.
which means i am in dire nee of a hair chop.i think i shall go bald this time. and get a third set of earholes. and a nose stud. either actually.. not both....
god..( who looks after all the animals in this world... assistant of st francis...)... i pray for your blessings... and give me guts....

i want....

a story book.
something to do.
go out and have fun, hang out.... in the sunshine.
a like.
a dog.
new music.
my old perspective.
my denims from the laundry.
a wisp of pujo... and not from ndtv.
girl talk,coffee,pajama party.... hangover.
a long drive around the highways here.... that begins at 9 pm and ends at 3 am.
punjabi dinner at a roadside dhaba.
abhijatya.
...... and..... lemme think.....
naahhhh.. too lazt rite now.
till later.

Work Ex in Guj.... The Ups and Downs....

Thasra.
A tiny research "station". Single storeyed ramshackle biuldings scatttered all over the area... approx 30 acres.Stretches of sugarcane and paddy in between....in fields of water and mud.
The concrete lego structures house labs,offices,store units,ppl.... all of it.
The mosquitoes and the helpful staff rules.

Navagam.
The joint where tea and paan is a social taboo. There isnt a single cha walla shack. No sale of them in any form.... raw,unprocessed or readymade.....Tobacco is popular howerever... They grow it and thrive on it......
The Main Rice Research Station is here( read HQ). Establshd in 945. The buildings are in a much much MUCH better shape and condition.... state of the art lab equip and instruments.. brilliant staff and scientists.. a lake,the fields... and the wilderness made it more enjoyable

Godhra.
No sign of the genocide. A lonely sleepy town where all activity is centered around the solid red brick and whitewashed methodist church and the bus "adda".Banks,Hutch Shops... all here.
My find..... the absence of a single cyber cafe or a std phone booth in all of godhra town.
One guy reported that there werent any movie halls showing the latest movies.
Had to be a guy.....
Btw.. we were working on maize... will be back again sometime soon.

Khetada Gaaon....
Another small village where we were sent to conduct a socio eco survey in the middle of the floods.A little place on the banks of the River Mahe.....the hospitality we recieved was warmer that what i mite have got at a Taj....The mindset was surprisingly educated for them that are labelled "illiterate."
i spent hours sitting and looking at the river.... someone recommended the view from his roof.... so up we wnt.... a iron rusted ladder and sat on the tin roof shed staring at the undulating miles.... and the river winding its way around it......

Vejalpura
Fruit orchards.
Stop.
Nothing else.
Amla,guava,mangoes,chickoos,wood apples... un exotic all.,
We went smack in the middle of the monsoons when it was all flooded. we tramped some 8 to 10 kms of mud,abundant weeds and splotch of all sorts.. only to get a rough geographical layout of the place..... the rains made it impossible to do anything else.....
Tho we grumbled,cursed,whined and cribbed... the fact that we all had yet another pair of soiled muddy and dirty pants,socks and shoes to wash clean and dry did not make us feel any better.
Its good fun talking abt it now.
This place is off the highway...... no buildings,bus stations,phone booths, cha walla, bisciut shop, cigarette walla or anything 20 kms either way.

Gujarat State Fert Co.
A really neat joint.

Madhav Foods .
A pickle factory. run by an engineer. fantabulous.spotless. damn damn interseting.gives one l;oads of ideas. food processing... tremendous area...../.

Deen Dayal Chems....
Basically ferts and pesticides.... i have to admit that i was more drawn to the machinary and raw material processing unit.
Things like insurance,waste disposal,residue material continue to bother me.

Etc.
Loads of other places not worth mentioning.learnt little and was interseted in zilch.

The Guys in my class....
An indisciplined lot of hooligans.Junglees.Barbarians.
Pelvic thrusts and stick-out-butt to all them emran and reshamiya nos..... or whatever that happens these days......
Pigs. Donkeys.Oooofffff.. i hate boys.

And the girls.....
sweet,simple,boyfriend obsessed.leave me to my own devices and my space.

Gujarat.
I know i cursed the place in the past... and taht i will continue to do so... But this place is beautiful.....
Its so so green. the roads are good too. When id dreiven thru Bihar, Bengal etc with Baba.. it was beautiful too....

That part of the country is untamed ,wild .. Every blade of grass,every mud hut and every ditch has a mind of its own... established itself wherver ,and whenever.... the way it pleases.
i will never tire if noticing boundaries here. Indigenous sorts,chicken wire,or concrete walls....
Even the roads are so carefuly maintained... the metal edges....the white markings on the tar.....
Prosperous.... rich.. organized.....

If this were to be mu karmabhoomi.... i would have loved it......
The thought of getting to work itself acts as an incentive to work.....

The "Yatra".
The gujjugs are a "god-mad"lot.Every single mandir.. no matter how small and obscure; or moneyed and obscene..... they will have to darshan karo-fy.the bus driver,the prof,the boys... they will all want to see it.
At the cost of cutting short on work hours.. visit the mandir.
Ask for the local tourist spot... and every fool will direct you to a mandir.... 2 kms away or 25 kms away.....
MAD .......
At times i cant help thinking im on somr sort of a pilgrimage..... bhak.!!!

Chapaner( in the Valley) and Pavagadh( on the Hilltop).The Trek.
Chapaner is a fort city. A curious mixture of Muslim/Mogul structures,Jain temples,Rajput history and local folk lore.
Fits into no period in history.
Defies any logic to architectural style or material..... construction and purpose....
Chronology is absent.
A lovely place none the less..... Quiet.. Serene.....
There are some 5 to 8 villages in this fort city. who grow their own food and have their own cows/buffaloes ...All very helpful.. and give free advice and directions..... which caused us to get lost repeatedly.

Pavagadh.
Lost in the mist.
350 stone steps , or a short bus ride up there.... halfway to the top. Cable car after that.... or the trusted legs...
Disappinted... or rather irritated and annoyed to find yet another bloody mandir at the top.
A good climb nonetheless....

TIRING.

till the next update here.......
after another couple of weeks.

intimacy.
that your body sweat smells diff from your hair sweat....
that your hands on (or off ) the steering wheel indicated your mood...angry,pissed off,wicked,analytical,low....
that you sleep in an impossible way.... on your tummy,neck on the pillow and nose in the air..(???)
that you hold your fork according to how much you have to say while eating....
that you have to have an opinion on everything and you have to test them out on me.....
that you will never lose those stupid red ties....(shudder shudder shudder...)
that you will be thinking abt some concrete or steel of blah strutcture/material etc when you trace lines on my fingers..(dont you even try to deny it....)
that you will always love me.
and i shall love you back.

in all simplicity.

" .....since relationships are always ambiguous,
since my thought is only a unit,
since my thoughts create rifts as much as they unite,
since my words establish contacts by being spoken...
and create isolation by remaining unspoken,
since an immense moat separates the subjective certitude that I have for myself from the objective reality that I represent to others,
since I never stop finding myself guilty even though I feel I am innocent....…
so...i thought how would i ever be able to explain myself to you ? "

conffessions.

i am a SNOB.and a perrrfect bitch.
i am too lazy to lose weight.
i have a weakness for baby dogs,baby cats,baby squirrels,baby monkeys,baby birds.... and even baby humans.
i have never woken up and not remembered what happened the night before.
i have old fashioned... very old fashioned notions on family,work,priorities... the right and the wrong.... ethics and morals.. and love.
i do cry.... thinking of all my animals,after almost every secnd storu book that i devour,..... bcoz i miss school...
i do want a rich guy.... someone who shall buy me all the cds and junk jewellery and story books and what nots.... and also take care of my HUMONGOUSLY ASTRONOMICAL phone bills.....
ummmm.... i think thats it for now......

home coming queen.
back in cal.....deja vu.
the usual grind.

once again i came home to find that another one of my animals have died.
once again, i couldnt make it back in time.
damn the exams and damn the 2 and a half day train journey.

last time it was my dog.
this time its kaiser... the baby thing.
she left behind 4 two week old kittens...
they cant see ar walk.... rather crawl... or do anything for that matter....

my hands are a poor subsitiue for the warm mommy catty fuury feel.

my mum is rarely around.... i wish shed understand that she neednt work so hard...
what a pain.

and as usual... at 2 am...
i urse my drink.( a cuppa tea....) and socialize in front of the tv......
home coming.

all of a sudden.....

all of a sudden the break ups in every single movie make sense....
every reason is valid.. and needs no qed.

all of a sudden im so mad at all the women in the class...
what stopped them from walking away...or why did they wait so long to do it....
maria.... walk ,woman.
catherine.... you had to deal with the most diff of them all.... and you did a cool job of it.... your line abt not being able to take love goes down in history.....
sara... your husband was just another man... too obsessed with his work and his achievements and too full of himself... not some greek god.
faith....why couldnt you just tell him... was he too intimidating..
and eva... your man was an awesomw guy... but wasnt he man enough... why did you have to baby him....

all of a sudden...
i can no longer see the line between
being an average human being and being a doormat.

all of a sudden....
as i continue to love....
i wonder where i gave all my love.

all i want to love now is a dog....
muy books.....
ice cream....
all the old music while it rains....
being me myself and me again....

loving is such a pain.......
i need fresh air....

I'm sitting here in the boring room
It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon(except that it is wed...)
I'm wasting my timeI got nothing to do
I'm hanging aroundI'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens
and I wonder

I'm driving around in my car
im driving too fast I'm driving too far....(ha.. i wish that WAS happening...)
I'd like to change my point of view
I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens
and I wonder
I wonder how I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue blue sky
And all that I can see ,is just a yellow lemon-tree

I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning turning turning turning turning around
And all that I can see is just another lemon-tree

I'm sitting here I miss the powerI'd like to go out taking a shower
But there's a heavy cloud inside my head
I feel so tired
Put myself into bed
Well, nothing ever happens and I wonder

Isolation is not good for me
Isolation I don't want to sit on the lemon-tree

I'm steppin' around in the desert of joy
Baby anyhow I'll get another toy
And everything will happen
and i wonder.

moving on or whatever.....

kartik says hes not coming home bcoz he has placement( hes a closet nerd.)
rudhira is leaving for hyderabed.... google...
harsha had summers in bbay....( see i told you it would rain....)
chitra mishra dhish plz plz plz do not go abroad to work.....
aditya chat... one day he goes to noida.... two weeks later hes sent to uk to work.(!!!??)
punnk uzz.... though hes just a year older to me(or so he says... i dont blv him there even for a minute...) he seems to three years ahead of me academically and 5 years career wise...
anushree.... shes at red earth.... she ok.. she gets to meet/check out hot, older, artisit type men ALL DAY LONG....
quirky kulkarni..... got the best job... gruelling corporate work hours...all the equip and jazz he has dreamt of for the past few years.. yet no office cubby hole... just space...no co workers... just friends.... no pressure.... just him.
atri is working too.... well... so he says... he has his booze... his music top priority always.. his girl,his place,.. and the guy is too bong... has zero work commitment et al... awesome..
ponchy has her own ngo.. kudos child....

what happens to me.... im slightly scared now.. i dont even know where im heading.....

at 4 25 am.... miles to go before i sleep.....

my fav poem.... ma taught me once while she was correcting papers or something...and i was just thoroughly bored....

since approx 8 pm... ive showered,sat around waiting for a phone call,chalked out my tv schedule for the night(and managed to sandwich in a few hours of study too!!!)... cried into my pillow... got mad coz it wasnt raining,re read parts of "the class" and re affirmed (to myself) bits of current reality.... watched the football matches.... and then the replays/highlights...
couldnt switch channels as i had a couple of books on my lap and a pen in my hand.... and thus couldnt hold the remote at the same time.....

at 3 am .. me the rain goddess had had enough... i went upto to the terrace.,., stared at the sky and summoned the rains.... commanded,demanded....
by the way.. here the cuckoo cuckoos even at this hour.... now i either get why they say gone cuckoo or the cuckoo has actually gone cuckoo.....

and then it rained...!!!!
thunder,lightning,wind.... a lot of rain....till the lights went out... and while the entire hoster slumbered... the rain queen danced the tribal rain dance alone on the terrace.....
the uncried tears were shed.... and the dried up happiness in me was re-juvinated....

i had to rite this.... do i change out of my wet shorts and tee or do i allow the cushioned chair and the floor to get wet.....
i havent spoken a word in the past 10 hrs or so.... ive been awefully depressed and awesomely happy.....
this is the best nite ive had in the past 3 weeks......
there shall always be a 3 am to 4 am......
and miles to go before i sleep .....
miles to go before i sleep......

mudder fudder bebi brudder.

between two sets of exams.... i travelled some 5 days to spend 5 days with my fam.
insane as it may sound... it was more than worth it.
now that im back in coll..... exams and the rest of the orchestra playing for me a specially composed symphony.....heres when the conducter is on a tea break.......

my mom....
pineapples,watermelons,mangoes and kurtas....
dear batty..... we walked,we loafed,we went for mass. she wanted a book. i wanted a bracelet. she thinks shes growing old.... i said shes aging... and being more childish on the process.she still is a die hard eng fan....and she still gets excited abt little things.she is still an ostrich...burys her head under the sand when she is confronted with all that doesnt fit into her opinions and views....."but she comes up soon.... she has to see whats happening ."
ice cream again?
and yes.. she still has a gazillion questions every time i decide to go out at night.

baba....
we lost out on many years... and many conversations.
we both realize that i understand him better than most ppl.... at times even ma.and that i may not know him best.... but i know what he is not saying.maybe the genes rebelled,screamed and made their point.
and for many things that didnt happen... i was sad.
for many things that did happen.... i am sad.
for many things that may happen.... i dont know.

bhai.... the machchi(housefly)...
the puny four feet nothing wimp who would cry at nothing.....now nearly six feet... as skinny.... and so much more adult.last year... he was drifting... college held no meaning. architecture was a word to him even after a year of studying it.. i knew more abt it than he did....
and now... he is so much more ...adult(?) than i am.he isnt just a human being now.... he isnt just a smart(er) guy now..hes a whole new guy. i wanted to now what hes been upto in the past year... what music hes discoeverd... what books he has read... what he writes... what his photography means to him and to the rest of the world....
yet we found reason to fight... to argue...football,complains...."maaa... didi just took away my...."
...."maaa,bhai just....."
hes more bohemian than i ever was... and i ever can be.
i dont just love him. im proud of him.

a couple of my cousins....after the many cups of coffee... the conversations in the rain,the feedback on work, family blah,values,kidding around.... loves and lost loves.. or soured loves... i realized that they are just.... males.

its been worth it.
i was happy.now im kind of sad.
its come to this... that us spending time together as a family is no longer a natural thing.we have to check and confirm dates... reschedule,cancel,rush and re vamp agendas....
that we cant just be family and think of stuff we did... we also have to cherish the times we are together from now on.

to the one in the north,in the east, in the south....
cheers.
till the next time... whenever that shall be...

guy bashing!

i hate guys who have to touch me when talking....
i hate guys who think that i cant do wothout them.,... or that he cant do without me....
i hate it when guys think that they need to spend every free minute with me... or vice versa.... and will chek to see where and what i am upto the minute they are free....
i hate it when they have to share every single detali of thier lives with me... sarting from which long lost relaative has turned up.. ot who said what upsetting thing... to what retarded idea they are getting.... note... getTING... in the process.. and i have to sit and listen to the idea taking place.....
i hate it when guys think they are my father,grandfather and godfather all in one....
i hateit when guys are concerned and try to help and jazz when im in trouble or dilemna only bcoz i am a girl.. and have a notion that i am emotionally and mentally puny bcoz i am a girl....
i hate it when guys have to call up say mundane things like .....
i hate it when guys will be horny... and only horny after 11 pm.....
i hate it that guys can comrehend frigging playstations and games and crap but not a simple story book....
i hate it that guys cant seem to understan that even silence is mode of communication.......
i hate it that guys are so undiplomatic,egoistic,dominating dickheaded boyfriends....even to those who girls who arent their girl friends...
i hate it that guys are ..... well... just plain dumb.
no this is not that time of the month.... its not that ive lost it... (i have actually.. to be honest.)
and no..... mr kumar...... none of this applies to you.... dare you even try to be any different.. or treat me differently after reading this.... im talking about "GUYS"...
not you. get it??

heat and hormones.
where do i begin this......
im sad. miserable.depressed. and down wid a killer heat stoke.
for the past week... ive been working like a maniac. not something new.... happens often. tests... submissions... the jazz.....
and now i crash.
a sleep deprived.... sex starved soul ,me.

today... monday. the worst ever.....
a day full of screw ups.. realizations.... bad beginnings......

im supposed to leave this place in three days.... meet my family all together after a year.... meet my oldest friends... 5 days...
i should be happy i guess...
the truth... i dont want to go.

ive started a project here..... teething problems and teehing minds of people... i dont want to leave mu baby and leave.....or rather .. i feel like id be running away maybe.....

after yelling at ppl .. and being yelled at... after being responsible for all that got cocked up..... i feel bad aboput myself.
i realized that i have trouble accepting authority.
that i cant delegate duties to ppl ... dont trust them enough....
am too committed to this new thing... i have a feeling i am over doing this thing... its no longer zealous... its fanaticism.
and i am scared by the person i mite appear to be these days.... i dont want to be like that.....

the heat fianlly triumphed. i couldnt keep fighting.a splitting headache.... a temp that makes you uncomfy,sweaty...
puking ... and at the same time dehydrated.
it didnt help that these girls and their friends/boyfriends went and watched da vinci code.and had a good time post that. dinner and jazz.... and i couldnt go bcoz i was ill and had work....
i felt good though when they came back..... THEY SAW IT IN HINDI..... teee hee hee...
yes i am sadisitic too....

the light hurts... working at the comp in the dark is supposed to be bad for the eyes......
my dog family here have come to say hi.... ahh yes... these gawar rajastani girls have called the dog pound to take them away.. im too tired to cry.... to drained to fight....i just listened....

slept most of the night....punctuated by bad dreams,or bad news abt demented ppl here.... woke up sweating each time....
i used to feel guilty about zonking off... that was a long time ago.....
i did my test.... i dont know if the last test was good or bad.... only marks can tell i guess....

im sick.im a pathetic case.
im vulnerable.. fallen apart.
i want someone to put me back into place.
radhika.. used to thwack me over the head in my fits of madness when we were 13... will you do it again.....
i miss my boyfriend.....yes all you who have raised an eyebroe... i have been reduced to being just another girl.....i want some one to soothe me, hug me, scold me and hold me.
i need help.

"Professional" Assassination.
When the ICSE and the ISC results were declared about a week back,I wondered if the kids are being pushed as relentlessly and inexorably as they were some years back,towards getting admission in a certain college... or have parents and teachers finally woken up to the fact that advertising ,or even white water rafting could be a career option.

When I was at that stage some three or four years back,I had noticed a lot of children my age being subjected to that parental/educational/social pressure to clear half a dozen entrance exams to be able to study a professional( read law,medicine,engineering,sciences,architecture etc) \ncourse.Those studying something like Mass Communications,Sociology,International Relations,English,or even Physics,Chemistry or Math as a three year course, were considered to be academically challenged. unless of course,he or she would be graduating from St.Stephens,St,Xavier's ,Presidency or someplace synonymous,in which case the child gets a pat on the back.
At that point of time,I was too young,too dazzled,too innocent and too slow to catch on.I was quite bewildered by this "branding" in education.And yes, I am a part of this "professional" bandwagon now.
Now that i have neared the end of this crazy endeavour to obtain that pseudo status badge that comes with the degree and some of my contemporaries have already obtained theirs.. i find myself trying to analyze certain things.

My upbringing has taught me to believe that education implies much more than what is in a text book.It makes one more superior as a person ,and instills certain principles and values in him or her.After having interacted with both students and professors from many places,and varied courses, I at times doubt what I have learnt. \n\n \nAs unpleasant and harsh as it may sound,there are professors in both IIT and non-IIT intstitutes with extremely provincial mindsets and outlooks who impart in the the name of "technical" education,tips to write that perfect paper or ways to crack a problem... but will almost always discourage his students to think and try out something new fangled,seemingly unpractical or theoretically unsound.

At that point of time,I was too young,too dazzled,too innocent and too slow to catch on.I was quite bewildered by this "branding" in education.And yes, I am a part of this "professional" bandwagon now.

Now that i have neared the end of this crazy endeavour to obtain that pseudo status badge that comes with the degree and some of my contemporaries have already obtained theirs.. i find myself trying to analyze certain things.

My upbringing has taught me to believe that education implies much more than what is in a text book.It makes one more superior as a person ,and instills certain principles and values in him or her.After having interacted with both students and professors from many places,and varied courses, I at times doubt what I have learnt.

As unpleasant and harsh as it may sound,there are professors in both IIT and non-IIT intstitutes with extremely provincial mindsets and outlooks who impart in the the name of "technical" education,tips to write that perfect paper or ways to crack a problem... but will almost always discourage his students to think and try out something new fangled,seemingly unpractical or theoretically unsound.
Some of the engineers I see,civil or genetic engineers, are from the backward pockets of Bihar or Jharkhand who have managed to acquire no professional knowledge or skill,and have certainly not deciphered the meaning of professional values,ethics and principles.They have neither the inclination nor the grey matter to try out something new. They are ,however, very aware of how eligible their degree makes them in the marriage market.On the other hand there are some who have at last realized that they were never meant to be a part of this rat race. Due to all the information,opportunity and freedom from parental pressure they get to discover that they could be journalists,watch designers or food connoisseurs.

My friend, a law student now,has already decided to become a drummer after his graduation. Another child,after having studied architecture for just two years has found his true calling-photography.And I hope i get to be that bartender when i finish college.

In this world where we are under constant pressure to perform,hand in assignments and what not...Long live the photocopier... it mass produces copies of soiled notes the night before the exam. Viva the " cut-copy-paste" technique,anything can be duplicated.Copyrighting had long lost its meaning.We promote team work when an entire class gets marked on an assignment that only one student has worked on. Oh yes... we get by.

Though we aren't a student of Economics,Sociology,History or English... any one of us could write a dissertation or a short thesis on anything from the history of the rock-n-roll movement,South East Asian Trade relations to Maupassant.We burn a lot of rubber on the roads,live at places ranging from the roadside dhaba to anyplace more fancy... and gain a lot of wisdom form such a lifestyle... if not knowledge.I need not be a software engineer to know about Web 2.0.I need not be an architect to know of Dorian column and arches."


In retrospect,our "professional"education had not contributed one bit to what we are today,not in terms of knowledge,capacity or skill;nor in terms of being more "educated" beings with lofty thoughts and noble intentions who are a class apart.

We are a generation who are tech savvy and are equipped with more information that we can handle.Our parents and professors ,in contrast, are still trying to grapple with "technology".They are living in awe of it, and at a subconscious level often get massively confused by it all.We on the other hand,try to modify it,live it.. and not give it such a name.We do not try to figure out the intricacies, we build up on it.When we try to give shape to one of the many "ideas": that we get, we don't call it "entrepreneurship", and we are definitely not aware of which of our "professional"skills or what "technical" knowledge we are exercising.

I do not intend to be offensive or insulting,but will people ever accept that a college degree is ...just a college degree.An eighteen year old who had just cleared the class 12 exams cannot possibly know if he or she wants to be a corporate lawyer or an aeronautical engineer.A subject like nutrition or commerce is not an insipid course... nor does it signify a students level of intelligence.What counts, is what you eventually do in life after having utilized all available resources.Three ,four,or five years of college changes ones perspective drastically.And that is when, with the help and support of the parents does an individual know what he or she wants to do in life. Till then.... professional education is a farce.Anything and everything has a future.... anything could be lucrative or not so.... irrespective of what the degree gives you.

The other day i found myself talking to a few old friends... some seniors who are now practising lawyers,some scientists who are doing research in hilariously obscure things.... some who have just finished their engineering courses... and some like me,are waiting for it all to end.
One who graduated from a certain engineering college said rather gleefullly,".... the end of engineering!"
Another very solemnly and wisely stated," Dude,with us having become engineers,it certainly is the end of engineering."

And that,is that.

i have no more idea as to how i am expected to survive this heat,this hole,this gujju hoi polloi.....
gujarat..... sry state..(.. well supposed to be so...) and dry intellectually,socially,.....
gujju guys.. thick in the head,at the waist and at the pocket.. not where they are supposed to be though......

ive been here three years... i only hope... i even pray if anyone shall listen... get me out of here.....
i am just tired and drained.......
have mercy....

all around me......
i look...
after three years..... i have built up a library of 468 story books in my room in the hostel.
and i have been consistent in maintaining the same,sparse wardrobe.
i have accumulated stationary paper,staple pins,wooden pencils that i dont use ......
....and i cant seem to be able to glipmse a single sheet of paper with class notes or the likes of it.
i can only hope they emerge in time.....


my best friends....
my denims which i have not moulted in some time now.
and my parker fountain pen which has been an extension of my rite hand and fingers since class 9.

i treasure my adidas sneakers, i white leather retro pair much abused.
my all time companions or room mates.....my comp and the Roadesian here.

... my table lamp.... a 10th bday present from my dad.... burns on even when i am beamed out.....

i love the morning dewey air.
i love the night.... luke kennys after hours,moonlight,nostalgia,work,the silence.... the mind works.....

im a soul deprived of sex,alcohol and drugs... yet im frequently high,intoxicated or turned on.....

i cannot imagine how ive subjected myself to being jailed in by 8 pm into the girls hostel everyday for the last three years....
cant comprehend how ive bcome so passive, so not rebellious....
cant figure out ppl here... or there... and what all makes them tick....
i dont blv i shall ever be one of them..... not here ... not anywhere....

"I am a rock,I am an island.
I have my books and my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
hiding in my room,
safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.

I’ve built walls,a fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain.

If I never loved I never would have cried.
......And a rock feels no pain;and an island never cries."

i shall live on.....

THE BONG BAJAR

The daily ‘bajar’ is essentially a very Bengali concept. My poor mother, a low-tech lady thought that the
frigidaire was alright for milk and curds and the occasional ice-cream, but the fish and the vegetable
and the fruits had to come from the ‘bajar’ everyday. My father was never to be trusted with the bajar.
He invariably bought the most sub-standard stuff at the most exorbitant prices – something my mother
could not bardast. Hence it fell upon my brother (young that he was) and sometimes me to do the daily
marketing.

We would line up in the kitchen, where Mother would reel off in a rapid-fire-line the things that would
be needed that day .A certain amount of money would be handed over, and my brother would charge off
t.o the local market. He had to rush back, because he had to get ready for School.
Sometimes I went along. It was really fun and a real pleasure. Rows and rows of red tomatoes. The
bright purple of the brinjals, the pale fresh green of the lauki, the darker green of the palak sak.
fresh silvery ilish maachh on a wet and gray day. The dark koi being kept alive in water. The colour,
the vibrancy of the early morning shoppers, the haggling over prices, choosing the right fish.
The joy in buying the first cauliflower of the season, with a little bit of fresh green peas The posto that
has to be bought if we were buying jhinge .The mocha to be bought only on a Sunday, because time
came at a premium on weekdays.All such sublime pleasure not ever to be compared to the air-conditi
oned pre-packed system at C3 or FoodMart or FoodBazaar.
Then on the agenda next was the hisab to be given to my mother. A quick reeling off of prices
by us, and the equally quick adding up my Mother. I do not know how my brother did it, but there
never was a paise out of line.. Once he bought taangra fish at quiet a steep price. Mother was furious.
“How can you buy such expensive fish? Don’t you know it’s the end of the month(masher shesh)?
Do you think money grows on trees? “ All this, while my poor brother stood shame-faced.

However , in retrospect, I think the bajar system did both of us a lot of good. It taught us the
value of money.The masher shesh concept stuck on. Today , both of us are very prudent
spenders. It taught us accountability – after all we were spending money which was strictly not ours
and we had to give an account . However brief and verbal the account may have been. Above all,
the bajar system taught us to appreciate the land and the products off the land. An immense
lesson learnt, for India’s greatest wealth is her land and thereby the agricultural produce.Whether
it be the high-profile tea estate or the simple but enchanting field of yellow mustard flowers.

mango pulse.
long lost friend prianCa visited. last time i met her was 30 days ago. spoke to her that day only.. but what to do.... miss her ya.....
anyway.. to get on with story.. she came to visit me anand.she came in auto. i was being worried that she would not find route... but my friend smart. i messaged her instructions and she came!!!wearing red t shirt and all... i was being very impressed....
anyway... my freind priyanCa is happening to be damn good cook. at least she is in regular touch with it.. bcoz she is in habit of cooking lunch daily for her family.prianCa liking my cumpoos very much. she says it is green and very open. so naturally i showing her the rest of cumpoos. now agriculture cumpoos mine.... best way to see all farms and also civil structures like biuldings are on cycle... so we went cycling around at 11 am in the heat. i told no that we are pucca insane.???
mess food.... in honour of her arrival it was extra specially bad. all girls who were in hostel that day worrying very much. one thing leading to another.. and in way of general conversation we decided to be cooking aam dal. .first i have to be teling that i am very bad at cooking shooking..... i dont know squat or jackshit. but have watched many people cook in my life... so i am knowing many many recipes.. from all over country... but never have tried.
with prianCa at my side .. i am feeling very brave..... i volunteer to be doing something for lunch.i say to make bengali aam daal. very simple and cool cool in summer time.
unfortunately... i am not knowing procedure rite from beginning. i told all that certain thing like onion and all not required.... but no one listening to me only... turned me out in heat to get things which i was a little sure that you dont need... but whatever. so people cutting mango,and priyanCa boiling daal.i get all things that were not needed.
just before things start cooking.. i am beginning to trust my gut. something totally wrong.... i call ma. she give insrtuction to priyanCa via cell fone from calcutta. daal of course is to be cooking in gujarat.
it was very good that i was doing that... onion and masala and things that they were saying was compulsory was not being so.
i continue to do theoretical cooking. priyanCa did practical.after all.. i know how much sugar to add to countereffect the khatta and excess of jeera. i also know at how much flame to simmer or to boil.but i am not knowledgeable in how to hold saucepan. prianCa knowing. i am after all science student. priyanCa is arts.we have wonderful compatibility.
experiment daal was successful.mild in taste and also appreciation. taste obviously affects the powers of speech.
while we were eating power cut happened. in summer it is very bad. in gujarat there is no wind also. so i take priyanca to IRMA cumpoos. my classmate living there. also they are having air condition facility.
irma zindabad.
my calssmate and colleague and fellow scientist and also very good friend deepak is hospitable on behalf of irma. we three sit in ac lib. lots of books. but we are talking and laughing of things that are highly uminportant. we are in potential threat and danger of being thrown out of library.after some time the gut again demands attention.so we go out for drive and to eat.
we eat paani puri and drink choc milk shake which is of indegenous origin.it is avalaible only from roadside stall.praiyanCa convinces deepaks sister that sprite in her hand is actually piss. what an affair with waiters who serve it....!!!!
sadly it is soon time to depart. priyanCa is promising to return this weekend. she in love with the paani puri. perhaps we can try making that next trip. my esteemed colleague and friend and fellow scientist will be helping us. his mother will have baked cake just in case.
i shall surely give you report then.

my experiments with college education.
1. have never come back from vacations less than three weeks late.
2. my family life happens long distance,my social life happens long distance, my love life is long distance..... why exclude my education....????
3. college offers more when not doing college.
4. am so dangerously in close proximity of college... yet amd so far removed from anything associated with it....
5. still doing.
6. will i get chucked out of college.... lets see if they manage to find adequate reasons for that. hehehehe.
7.classes.. great opportunity to finish reading that story book,catch up on lost sleep,do sudokus,bluetooth,download stuff in your cell.... whatever suits you......go for class always.
8. lab sessions.... licence to vent your anger,frustration or whatever by braeking any amount of glassware, manhandling or molesting any equipment without any fear of being sued.
9.cool place to hang out when there is a power cut.
10.youve lost sight of where you began.... you have no clue where youre gonna end up.... keep drifting....

like all things gujju.... the act of naming ppl ,places or things reek of hollowheaded phenomenal beings .... names of restaureants....honest,decent,relish,icy spicy,razzles......
of saloons,beauty parlors.... tokyo,new york..( for men..)
virgin,bridial(sic) .. for women.
of net cafes.. d2v.
of car/bike service centres and repair joints... downtown.
dry cleaners.... edward,george.... ( am i getting this correct that gujjus have at last found one rite link or am i again mistaken...)
of opticians..." spies" .. dont ask, man.
of babies whose surname will be patel.... chirag.the child shall one dat grow up to be a fine young man and call himself "patel fathersname bhai chirag." one may as well use the dads name.....i give up on this bunch.....
imagine going to eat at a place called honest;......

No Woman No Cry.

The woman who cleans and sweeps.She shall go from house to house as she everyday.She wears her sari,wrapping it a little tighter than usual.She flourishes her jharoo with a little extra energy and carries herself more upright than she usually does..... till fatigue replaces her childish excitement.Happy Women's Day.

The prostitute.She shall see her kids off to school,like my mother does. She cooks and cleans ,like any other housewife. She returns to an alcoholic husband,like many women around her do.She is a career woman,like most women of today.She keeps slightly different working hours though.She sells her body,but keeps her soul.Happy Woman's Day.

My classmate.Education was her passport to move out of her village and live in a town:if not a city.She dreams to earn,live and spend like the girls she studies with. Yet she knows that she shall have to return to her village someday and spend the rest of her life with a someone who is a stranger to her. Education has broadened her mind like it does to everyone.... it has also given her the knowledge not to defy tradition. She collects and preserves the broken,coloured,fragile fragments of those dreams. Someday she shall give them to her daughter.Happy Women's Day.

My grandmother and mother. Two women with a backbone of thin invisible steel.They've played the role of a mother,daughter,sister,wife,the career woman.... all at the same time. They have had to fight a different sort of a battle. Though they did not win every time, they survived to fight the next one. Salute.

Education,career,social rights,equality and whatnot have been my birthright.I've never felt i was denied any of it... nor did i ever have to fight for it.I had considered myself to be too urbane to be concerned with mediocre mindsets and middle class struggles.

Today i am humbled by these women.They have seen what could be a better lifestyle. But they have learnt that the have to achieve not what they aspire,but what those who are dependent on them need.How they can be so selfless is beyond my comprehension.How they live a life of continuous sacrifices and compromises is something i fail understand. I am awed by their strength and hardiness.Life has,time and again, reminded them of their place and role in society and the family.

To those who are not aware of it,Happy Womens Day.To the urban hoi polloi,Happy Women's Day.After all is your celebration.

and today was just born
and this is another day.... another paper which just happened... and was over b4 i could judge if it was good or bad.... guess it doesnt matter anymore.. its been proved to me over again... so i need not assume or assure myself on false grounds.... that this was just anotherr one of them.assignments,exams,submissions,.... all one after the other.... what the heck.
its a briliiant day today. and tomorrow is a holiday for i know not what.im reading the cal telegraph,watching the day get hotter by the minute.this minute... i have no aim in life.. no perspective,no target.theres a sky thats a new shade of blue, and a wind that is as lazy as i am.. or maybe vice versa.
i have another practical exam in a few hours in which i shall have to watch a bunch of bovines being subjected to juvenile prods,pushes and tugs of the inexperienced students... the indignity that they silently suffer pains me.... does it actually bother them..... is there more to their life than cud and dung..... i wonder... and i wonder why i wonder.