[Dedicated to the first blog I'd ever read, for one of its posts was very much like this. I can't link you to it, cuz it doesn't exist any more.]
10 Things that bring me joy, in no particular order, with some overlappings.
1. Spiritual joy
2. Finding you can confide in a friend
3. Being reassured in times of distress
4. A quiet walk away from traffic
5. Getting attention from one you love
6. Cheering a side on to its win
7. Falling in love
8. Overwhelming movie scenes
9. Being touched and speechless with gratitude
10. Witnessing a discreet help bear fruit
Wednesday 28 October, 2009
Tuesday 20 October, 2009
Confessions of an IIT aspirant (thematic giveaway)
[If you have not read Confessions of an IIT Aspirant, I suggest you do that first, and then come here. This is what one would call a 'spoiler'.
Okay, so here are your giveaway paragraphs. The first one gets inserted after the 5th paragraph, and the 2nd one gets inserted after the last paragraph: which you would have known if you had got the theme. Here are the missing links...]
On my visit to IITB with my aunt just before starting JEE coaching, I remember thinking how inside the campus, the grass was greener. If intellect was Light, then the Light was brighter. I remember thinking of myself being there with friends surrounded. The days of pondering the mysteries of science and technology would be followed by the nights of wonder.
Looking back at the two years of my JEE preparation, I recall my first holi: how photographs of KK's pre-holi lawn showed the grass was greener. I admit I was in love during that time, and there were times when I looked at Her, and the light was brighter. I remember eating Chole Bature at KK's holi, and thinking that the taste was sweeter. But most of all, I remember the times I'd beg for sleepover permission, and whenever it was granted, the nights of wonder. Those few nights were nostalgic occasions, for we all were mutually with friends surrounded. I recall the sleepover at Nish's after the batch party, and how we listened to The Dark Side of the Moon with the dawn mist glowing. And my second and more violent holi, with the water flowing. Continuously it flowed, forming the endless river. All in all, my non IITian-desirous life of those two years shall be cherished by me forever and ever.
[If after this giveaway you still haven't got it, its okay. You probably never will unless someone blatantly lets you in on it. And in that case, I seriously doubt you would look at this the way I do. However, if you have got the theme, I am hereunder putting the entire thing again, with these two paragraphs inserted in their correct place, so that you can judge the flow, and hopefully find the ending more hopeful. Read on if you wish.]
Driving along from Bombay to Pune to visit my cousin pursuing an MTech from IITB, I remember looking out to the sea, and wondering what lay beyond the horizon. I guess that was the holiday when I had first heard of the words 'horizon' and 'skyline' and was just generally admiring the scenic beauty of the place with the mist over the water on one side, and the skyline of Bombay on the other. It was the summer vacation for my brother and me, and it was at our Aunty Annette's that we lived when we came up to Bombay. We were young back then, about ten years old, but still the 'brand IIT' had been heard of, even if not quite understood. In a land dependent on the agriculture industry, these IITs had made a dominating impact! Our cousin showed us some complicated stuff of magnets and miracles had become natural occurrences.
Back at home and back to school after the summer, we found our thoughts strayed from the lectures in class. Constantly and enthusiastically was I seen trying to explain some electromagnetic thing to my peers. I think that they only ended up thinking that my imagination was without boundary. All this was put to the back of my mind however, till 11th grade, when the ringing of alarm bells at 5:20 a.m. for the 6 o'clock coaching class would interrupt my peaceful slumbering for the next two years. Speaking of bells, it was at this time that I was introduced to Pink Floyd and their album The Division Bell. With IIT aspirations on the one hand, and school friends' fun on the other, the emotional upheavals they caused ensured that my maturation had begun.
"Along the long end of the bimetallic strip is..." started the thermo physics lecturer. "The ball rolls on this flat road and on towards the wall with a friction coefficient of ...", droned the mechanics physics lecturer. Though this should have been hectic and all, I would end up wondering about my friends in my previous school and those in my present one as I walked down the causeway. "Do they still stock up on eggs for Josephs-Germains matches?" Or else, "Maybe I should call some on them in Indiranagar and we could meet there by next week?" All this while simultaneously hoping I'd make the cut for the IIT Bombay Computer Science Department.
Then there was a time when I noticed the competition get fierce. The majority of the coaching=goers were like some ragged band that was worn out and yet still carrying on. As we led, they followed in our footsteps. My ambition was great; for my part, I was running before time, racing against it. We all had our own ambitions, and we all had to stretch, lest complacency took our dreams away.
Leaving the myriad NCERT problems in school for those not into the JEE preparation, we used to pursue those 'higher level' IIT problems during class hours, much to our teachers' displeasure. You can't blame us; those NCERT problems were like small creatures trying their best to lure us into some false sense of achievement. For their part, the teachers wanted to tie us to the NCERT syllabus, so that we acquire good marks for them in the board exams and maintain the school's reputation. Of course, we did make full use of the P.T. periods to play volleyball in the ground. Without these little bits of fun, we would have been devoting our selves to a life of physics, chemistry and mathematics alone. Consumed by determination and perfection, we had been to excel. And the NCERT problems were left to their slow decay.
On my visit to IITB with my aunt just before starting JEE coaching, I remember thinking how inside the campus, the grass was greener. If intellect was Light, then the Light was brighter. I remember thinking of myself being there with friends surrounded. The days of pondering the mysteries of science and technology would be followed by the nights of wonder.
On a number of occasions, I would end up looking beyond the moments of temporary satisfaction to the impending glory at the end of those two years' hard work. On other occasions, I would look back at my past and reflect on how much I'd changed recently; seeing embers of bridges I'd crossed and realising I could not return to being the person I'd earlier been. I doubt I was the only one who was feeling this tempestuous change; I guess we all had bridges of our own, glowing behind us. The hectic pace of our lives had transformed each memory from a clear vision to a glimpse through a fog. Memories of how green our Garden City was, were obscured by the grey concrete present of the Silicon Valley of India. It was on with the rat race for all of us JEE rats, while the others were hanging out with each other. We were all dying to get to the other side of the IIT portal.
I had to face the inevitable debate of whether I would have my steps taken forward out of passion or out of a necessity to work hard. When I was working out of passion, my progress was metaphorically not just walking ahead during the day time, but sleepwalking at night as well. Referring back again to my passion or hard-work debate, even at the height of my being driven by the former, I would doubt whether the latter was enough. I was dragged by the glamour of the computer science subject and Bombay as being the location of my favourite summer vacations. As a force of some considerable magnitude, was y aspiration to enter into the IITB Computer Science branch. This force was like an inner tide dragging me along even when my will and motivation was not very high.
During the coaching class tests, I would picture myself as an eagle soaring off at higher altitude as compared to the other birds. Or when the results of a test were declared, I'd imagine myself as a victorious captain, returning home with flag unfurled. By the end of our first year, a lot of us did indeed feel proud of where we reached in our rat race. The dizzy heights of our seniors' achievements did not look so dizzy now that we had climbed so high ourselves. That dreamed-of world at IIT had become a realistic entity.
Towards the end of the two years, looking back at those times, I thought I had been encumbered forever by various hopes and by love. Personal desire and ambition is not easy to satisfy when you are an IIT aspirant. When you want a top 50 JEE rank, or an IPhO gold medal, there's a hunger to push yourself in various directions, not always parallel. With time before the JEE running out, I found I was still unsatisfied with my preparation., but realised I could not do much about it.
Our weary eyes, having spend an eighth of their lifetime on the IITJEE cause, would relish the slightest out-of-the-ordinary sight; be it a goat with two feet on a wall reaching up to eat a few leaves off a low garden tree, or a bunch of care-free kids doing wheelies for over 100 m. on an empty stretch of road-blocked road. My eyes would still stray to a lost IPhO dream, having not qualified for the selection camp. Those daydreams can still be seen at the horizon, gleaming just out of reach. Though down this path of disappointment I had seen myself go, I would still find myself a new fool's hope to cling on to. This disappointment-following-hope road we've been down at least once; for all of us. For so many times I had witnessed the symptoms of a dying fool's hope, whether it was my X Std. board exams or my IPhO dreams, but my IITB CSE dream would be the last one I'd cling on to, till it inevitably shattered with the final disclosure of the JEE results.
Looking back at the two years of my JEE preparation, I recall my first holi: how photographs of KK's pre-holi lawn showed the grass was greener. I admit I was in love during that time, and there were times when I looked at Her, and the light was brighter. I remember eating Chole Bature at KK's holi, and thinking that the taste was sweeter. But most of all, I remember the times I'd beg for sleepover permission, and whenever it was granted, the nights of wonder. Those few nights were nostalgic occasions, for we all were mutually with friends surrounded. I recall the sleepover at Nish's after the batch party, and how we listened to The Dark Side of the Moon with the dawn mist glowing. And my second and more violent holi, with the water flowing. Continuously it flowed, forming the endless river. All in all, my non IITian-desirous life of those two years shall be cherished by me forever and ever.
[For those of you who got the theme, I'd just like to give you a little 'disclaimer' about the relationship of the theme with the article.
Though this truly represents a part of me rather personally, I would like to warn you against reading too much inbetween the lines.. In my desire to keep to the theme, I have distorted some emotions and brought in needless ones. Also, my memory has been doctored since the past one year, and may not represent the reality I had made for myself in 11th & 12th. However, I can offer one clue on what to read between the liens: if it sounds artificial, like it is there just to fit in with the theme, don't take it seriously. And finally, if you do correctly glean what I had felt, you will understand why I liked HH more than WYWH.]
Okay, so here are your giveaway paragraphs. The first one gets inserted after the 5th paragraph, and the 2nd one gets inserted after the last paragraph: which you would have known if you had got the theme. Here are the missing links...]
On my visit to IITB with my aunt just before starting JEE coaching, I remember thinking how inside the campus, the grass was greener. If intellect was Light, then the Light was brighter. I remember thinking of myself being there with friends surrounded. The days of pondering the mysteries of science and technology would be followed by the nights of wonder.
Looking back at the two years of my JEE preparation, I recall my first holi: how photographs of KK's pre-holi lawn showed the grass was greener. I admit I was in love during that time, and there were times when I looked at Her, and the light was brighter. I remember eating Chole Bature at KK's holi, and thinking that the taste was sweeter. But most of all, I remember the times I'd beg for sleepover permission, and whenever it was granted, the nights of wonder. Those few nights were nostalgic occasions, for we all were mutually with friends surrounded. I recall the sleepover at Nish's after the batch party, and how we listened to The Dark Side of the Moon with the dawn mist glowing. And my second and more violent holi, with the water flowing. Continuously it flowed, forming the endless river. All in all, my non IITian-desirous life of those two years shall be cherished by me forever and ever.
[If after this giveaway you still haven't got it, its okay. You probably never will unless someone blatantly lets you in on it. And in that case, I seriously doubt you would look at this the way I do. However, if you have got the theme, I am hereunder putting the entire thing again, with these two paragraphs inserted in their correct place, so that you can judge the flow, and hopefully find the ending more hopeful. Read on if you wish.]
Driving along from Bombay to Pune to visit my cousin pursuing an MTech from IITB, I remember looking out to the sea, and wondering what lay beyond the horizon. I guess that was the holiday when I had first heard of the words 'horizon' and 'skyline' and was just generally admiring the scenic beauty of the place with the mist over the water on one side, and the skyline of Bombay on the other. It was the summer vacation for my brother and me, and it was at our Aunty Annette's that we lived when we came up to Bombay. We were young back then, about ten years old, but still the 'brand IIT' had been heard of, even if not quite understood. In a land dependent on the agriculture industry, these IITs had made a dominating impact! Our cousin showed us some complicated stuff of magnets and miracles had become natural occurrences.
Back at home and back to school after the summer, we found our thoughts strayed from the lectures in class. Constantly and enthusiastically was I seen trying to explain some electromagnetic thing to my peers. I think that they only ended up thinking that my imagination was without boundary. All this was put to the back of my mind however, till 11th grade, when the ringing of alarm bells at 5:20 a.m. for the 6 o'clock coaching class would interrupt my peaceful slumbering for the next two years. Speaking of bells, it was at this time that I was introduced to Pink Floyd and their album The Division Bell. With IIT aspirations on the one hand, and school friends' fun on the other, the emotional upheavals they caused ensured that my maturation had begun.
"Along the long end of the bimetallic strip is..." started the thermo physics lecturer. "The ball rolls on this flat road and on towards the wall with a friction coefficient of ...", droned the mechanics physics lecturer. Though this should have been hectic and all, I would end up wondering about my friends in my previous school and those in my present one as I walked down the causeway. "Do they still stock up on eggs for Josephs-Germains matches?" Or else, "Maybe I should call some on them in Indiranagar and we could meet there by next week?" All this while simultaneously hoping I'd make the cut for the IIT Bombay Computer Science Department.
Then there was a time when I noticed the competition get fierce. The majority of the coaching=goers were like some ragged band that was worn out and yet still carrying on. As we led, they followed in our footsteps. My ambition was great; for my part, I was running before time, racing against it. We all had our own ambitions, and we all had to stretch, lest complacency took our dreams away.
Leaving the myriad NCERT problems in school for those not into the JEE preparation, we used to pursue those 'higher level' IIT problems during class hours, much to our teachers' displeasure. You can't blame us; those NCERT problems were like small creatures trying their best to lure us into some false sense of achievement. For their part, the teachers wanted to tie us to the NCERT syllabus, so that we acquire good marks for them in the board exams and maintain the school's reputation. Of course, we did make full use of the P.T. periods to play volleyball in the ground. Without these little bits of fun, we would have been devoting our selves to a life of physics, chemistry and mathematics alone. Consumed by determination and perfection, we had been to excel. And the NCERT problems were left to their slow decay.
On my visit to IITB with my aunt just before starting JEE coaching, I remember thinking how inside the campus, the grass was greener. If intellect was Light, then the Light was brighter. I remember thinking of myself being there with friends surrounded. The days of pondering the mysteries of science and technology would be followed by the nights of wonder.
On a number of occasions, I would end up looking beyond the moments of temporary satisfaction to the impending glory at the end of those two years' hard work. On other occasions, I would look back at my past and reflect on how much I'd changed recently; seeing embers of bridges I'd crossed and realising I could not return to being the person I'd earlier been. I doubt I was the only one who was feeling this tempestuous change; I guess we all had bridges of our own, glowing behind us. The hectic pace of our lives had transformed each memory from a clear vision to a glimpse through a fog. Memories of how green our Garden City was, were obscured by the grey concrete present of the Silicon Valley of India. It was on with the rat race for all of us JEE rats, while the others were hanging out with each other. We were all dying to get to the other side of the IIT portal.
I had to face the inevitable debate of whether I would have my steps taken forward out of passion or out of a necessity to work hard. When I was working out of passion, my progress was metaphorically not just walking ahead during the day time, but sleepwalking at night as well. Referring back again to my passion or hard-work debate, even at the height of my being driven by the former, I would doubt whether the latter was enough. I was dragged by the glamour of the computer science subject and Bombay as being the location of my favourite summer vacations. As a force of some considerable magnitude, was y aspiration to enter into the IITB Computer Science branch. This force was like an inner tide dragging me along even when my will and motivation was not very high.
During the coaching class tests, I would picture myself as an eagle soaring off at higher altitude as compared to the other birds. Or when the results of a test were declared, I'd imagine myself as a victorious captain, returning home with flag unfurled. By the end of our first year, a lot of us did indeed feel proud of where we reached in our rat race. The dizzy heights of our seniors' achievements did not look so dizzy now that we had climbed so high ourselves. That dreamed-of world at IIT had become a realistic entity.
Towards the end of the two years, looking back at those times, I thought I had been encumbered forever by various hopes and by love. Personal desire and ambition is not easy to satisfy when you are an IIT aspirant. When you want a top 50 JEE rank, or an IPhO gold medal, there's a hunger to push yourself in various directions, not always parallel. With time before the JEE running out, I found I was still unsatisfied with my preparation., but realised I could not do much about it.
Our weary eyes, having spend an eighth of their lifetime on the IITJEE cause, would relish the slightest out-of-the-ordinary sight; be it a goat with two feet on a wall reaching up to eat a few leaves off a low garden tree, or a bunch of care-free kids doing wheelies for over 100 m. on an empty stretch of road-blocked road. My eyes would still stray to a lost IPhO dream, having not qualified for the selection camp. Those daydreams can still be seen at the horizon, gleaming just out of reach. Though down this path of disappointment I had seen myself go, I would still find myself a new fool's hope to cling on to. This disappointment-following-hope road we've been down at least once; for all of us. For so many times I had witnessed the symptoms of a dying fool's hope, whether it was my X Std. board exams or my IPhO dreams, but my IITB CSE dream would be the last one I'd cling on to, till it inevitably shattered with the final disclosure of the JEE results.
Looking back at the two years of my JEE preparation, I recall my first holi: how photographs of KK's pre-holi lawn showed the grass was greener. I admit I was in love during that time, and there were times when I looked at Her, and the light was brighter. I remember eating Chole Bature at KK's holi, and thinking that the taste was sweeter. But most of all, I remember the times I'd beg for sleepover permission, and whenever it was granted, the nights of wonder. Those few nights were nostalgic occasions, for we all were mutually with friends surrounded. I recall the sleepover at Nish's after the batch party, and how we listened to The Dark Side of the Moon with the dawn mist glowing. And my second and more violent holi, with the water flowing. Continuously it flowed, forming the endless river. All in all, my non IITian-desirous life of those two years shall be cherished by me forever and ever.
[For those of you who got the theme, I'd just like to give you a little 'disclaimer' about the relationship of the theme with the article.
Though this truly represents a part of me rather personally, I would like to warn you against reading too much inbetween the lines.. In my desire to keep to the theme, I have distorted some emotions and brought in needless ones. Also, my memory has been doctored since the past one year, and may not represent the reality I had made for myself in 11th & 12th. However, I can offer one clue on what to read between the liens: if it sounds artificial, like it is there just to fit in with the theme, don't take it seriously. And finally, if you do correctly glean what I had felt, you will understand why I liked HH more than WYWH.]
Wednesday 14 October, 2009
Gwalior return trip
[For quite a while, I did not like the fact that pretty much all I could write was narratives. It felt like I was in a shell and could not break out of it. I somehow simply refused to see the beauty of the narratives I'd written. When the following incident happened however, I realised that the best possible way to pen it down, would be as a narrative.
Dedicated to Dominoes Cheese Burst.]
"Sometimes we're on a collision course, and we just don't know it. Whether it's by accident or by design, there's not a thing we can do about it. A woman in Paris was on her way to go shopping, but she had forgotten her coat - went back to get it. When she had gotten her coat, the phone had rung, so she'd stopped to answer it; talked for a couple of minutes. While the woman was on the phone, Daisy was rehearsing for a performance at the Paris Opera House. And while she was rehearsing, the woman, off the phone now, had gone outside to get a taxi. Now a taxi driver had dropped off a fare earlier and had stopped to get a cup of coffee. And all the while, Daisy was rehearsing. And this cab driver, who dropped off the earlier fare; who'd stopped to get the cup of coffee, had picked up the lady who was going to shopping, and had missed getting an earlier cab. The taxi had to stop for a man crossing the street, who had left for work five minutes later than he normally did, because he forgot to set off his alarm. While that man, late for work, was crossing the street, Daisy had finished rehearsing, and was taking a shower. And while Daisy was showering, the taxi was waiting outside a boutique for the woman to pick up a package, which hadn't been wrapped yet, because the girl who was supposed to wrap it had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, and forgot.
"When the package was wrapped, the woman, who was back in the cab, was blocked by a delivery truck, all the while Daisy was getting dressed. The delivery truck pulled away and the taxi was able to move, while Daisy, the last to be dressed, waited for one of her friends, who had broken a shoelace. While the taxi was stopped, waiting for a traffic light, Daisy and her friend came out the back of the theater. And if only one thing had happened differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee; or that woman had remembered her coat, and got into an earlier cab, Daisy and her friend would've crossed the street, and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - that taxi did not go by, and that driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Daisy, and her leg was crushed." - Benjamin Button, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
Oct 04, 2009.
So basically, our train back from Gwalior to New Delhi (Shatabdi #2001) was at 7:05 p.m., and at around 5 p.m. we find out the location of the local Dominoes Pizza outlet as City Mall, at M.L.B. road, Lashkar. Mayank and me decide that it'll be possible to drop by there and have a pizza considering we hadn't had any 'lunch' that day. None of us have packed, but we know that it would take us only 5 minutes to get the job done. Having thus planned our schedule, we return from the internet lab to our room to give Nikhil the update.
After packing and everything, we leave the place at 530, where there is an auto waiting for us in front of the hostel. At this point, we began to consider that it would be getting late, but still decide it would be worth to try out the mall. Now, the autos in Gwalior are extremely spacious. They have 'dikkis' as well as a rather wide passenger area. Also, there was a platform in front of the passenger area as well. The three of us were fairly comfortable. On the way to the mall, the spaciousness of the rickshaw allowed for himto pick up some 3 more passengers, thus increasing his profit on the way. I remember discussing this spaciousness of the rickshaws and their relation to business with Mayank before falling asleep, after which I can't really tell you what the journey was like; except for the fact that we crossed the railway station on the way and the rickshaw man told us that the mall was just 3 Km away from there. We timed the mall-to-station journey at about 15 minutes, and carried on.
When we reached the mall, I had the slight hesitation about carrying a lot of luggage into the mall. It was the first time I'd be doing something like this, and was slightly apprehensive about the frisking while carring two loaded bags, but the guard merely asked what was in the bags and I showed him; similarly for the other two.
Inside the mall, we got the distinct impression of it being an upgraded lighted-up version of Palika Bazaar, with its narrow corridor and somewhat circular centre. The crowd was also similar: dense, and with our luggage, a task to maneuvre. By fortune or fate, we just walked right into Domino's without asking anyone for directions on the way or anything. No seating, but as Mayank pointed out, the important thing was to get our order done. The time was 6:11. We gave our order and managed to get a table, while our bags were kept at the side for the time being.
"Dominoes takes about 12 minutes to get the pizza. So that means we'll be getting ours at 6:23.. then we'll have to leave here by 6:35, so that we reach in time," said Mayank, the experienced Dominoes customer.
6:22...6:23... and we're still waiting. "Your watch is fast. 6:23 on mine". His experience turned out to be true, and we did get it at 6:23 by his watch. However, at 6:35, we still had half a pizza left to finish, among the three of us. Being three of us, we decided to finish it off there and then leave, reasoning that 6:35 and 6:40 doesn't make much difference. At 6:40, we leave Dominoes, briskly rush out, and try getting the auto.
After about one or two rejections, we manage to get an auto. The time is 6:45 now. Unfortunately, what we hadn't accounted for, was that the traffic would blow up at that time. We hadn't even reached the first junction, when we found ourselves virtually stuck in what I termed Bombay-traffic. Nikhil reassured me saying that after that junction the traffic would ease. It did ease, but only very temporarily; for by the next junction we were again in traffic. He then reassured us saying that 'once we reach the flyover, we'll be okay'. But we didn't seem to be reaching the flyover any time soon.
Mayank then said, "We will not make it in time; but we will catch the train."
Nikhil asked him, "Is that 'but' meaning an 'and' or an 'or'?"
Mayank was like, "Its an and."
Nikhil said, "Must be an or..."
And that pretty much summed up how anxious we were at that point of time.
At 7 p.m., we reached the station. Hurrying in to look at the display board for the platform of our train, we get a major shock: there was no #2001 Shatabdi train listed. There was a train going to Delhi at 1905, but it was #2191. We rechecked our tickets: it said #2001. Nikhil went up to a counter to enquire, but the person at that counter just sent him off. He then tried to jump the queue of the other counter to enquire, but fortunately, a guy in a red shirt said that the 2191 train was ours, that it was already on the platform, and that we would be late if we waited.
Thats when we ran onto the first platform, and took the general direction towards the crossover. We virtually jogged all the way up to the crossover, only to find that it was to be reached from the outside. "What now?" I don't know who said it, but it put into words our helplessness. "Just cross over the tracks" said some guys sitting nearby, "you'll be late otherwise."
Without stopping to think, Nikhil got down onto the tracks and began to cross. Mayank followed him. Then I climbed down. Crossed over the first platform... back up onto the 2nd... got down from 3rd... up again on 4th, each time dumping my bag ahead of me as I jumped down or climbed up. We had AC class tickets and fortunately, the AC coaches were nearer to us and we didn't have to sprint the entire length of the train. The three of us hopped on, the food people confirmed we were having AC class seats, and thus we began our journey from the 8th coach down to the 2nd one.
We hadn't even crossed the 8th coach when I realized that the train had begun moving!
If only one thing had happened differently: if the comps in the lab had had to be switched on; or there hadn't been an auto waiting right in front of the hostel; or the guard at the mall had insisted on frisking us thoroughly and checking every item in all our bags; or we had had to ask for directions to Dominoes in the mall; or Dominoes hadn't lived up to its standards of 12 minutes for the order; or we had eaten a wee bit slower; or we hadn't got even the third auto from the mall; or our rickshaw hadn't pushed itself through the traffic; or the guy in the red shirt hadn't told us that it was our train; or the people next to the crossover hadn't told us to just cross the tracks, we would have missed our train and lost 2500 bucks. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - we did manage to make it onto the train, and Nikhil announced that this incident definitely deserved a blog entry.
Appendix A: Comparison of New Delhi and Gwalior
Gwalior is a small town, and has the town-feel, with narrow-ish roads which aren't burdened by traffic. Also, the air in Gwalior was highly unpolluted. I haven't faced such clean air and such great weather (slight rain) since my middle school days in Bangalore. The weather even reminded me of that. A clear contrast to New Delhi.
When we had gotten out of the station in Gwalior, the rickshaws there were all looking forward to taking us where we wished to go. We told them we were being expected, but they kept insisting that we hire them; even arguing that "why to unnecessarily worry those who have to pick you when it is night". When we returned to New Delhi, we found a number of autos; all of them empty. One or two rickshaw drivers whom we did spot, seemed to be running away from us as we approached even. We had to wait outside the station to catch a rick.
In comparing IITD to ABV-IIITM, I found the latter more 'wild', had narrower pathways, and much less 'concrete' and more 'green'. Whereas the greenery of IITD seems artificial, with lawns that are trimmed all the time, the IIITM campus had wildery all over. There were also very few students there in comparison to IITD.
Appendix B: memories/souveneirs
There are two things I find that make the trip memorable. The presence of frogs hopping around on the grass while we took a stroll is one. Why, a frog even hopped onto my foot inside the room and I hadn't realised it. The other one is a girl; one of the volunteering students, with a ponytail and a strong posture, whose name was I think Saakshi (I think I heard someone calling her), and who had a sweet voice that was unable to pronounce 'Mathias' (she said 'muh-thih-YAHS' instead of 'muh-THAH-yis') properly :P
Dedicated to Dominoes Cheese Burst.]
"Sometimes we're on a collision course, and we just don't know it. Whether it's by accident or by design, there's not a thing we can do about it. A woman in Paris was on her way to go shopping, but she had forgotten her coat - went back to get it. When she had gotten her coat, the phone had rung, so she'd stopped to answer it; talked for a couple of minutes. While the woman was on the phone, Daisy was rehearsing for a performance at the Paris Opera House. And while she was rehearsing, the woman, off the phone now, had gone outside to get a taxi. Now a taxi driver had dropped off a fare earlier and had stopped to get a cup of coffee. And all the while, Daisy was rehearsing. And this cab driver, who dropped off the earlier fare; who'd stopped to get the cup of coffee, had picked up the lady who was going to shopping, and had missed getting an earlier cab. The taxi had to stop for a man crossing the street, who had left for work five minutes later than he normally did, because he forgot to set off his alarm. While that man, late for work, was crossing the street, Daisy had finished rehearsing, and was taking a shower. And while Daisy was showering, the taxi was waiting outside a boutique for the woman to pick up a package, which hadn't been wrapped yet, because the girl who was supposed to wrap it had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, and forgot.
"When the package was wrapped, the woman, who was back in the cab, was blocked by a delivery truck, all the while Daisy was getting dressed. The delivery truck pulled away and the taxi was able to move, while Daisy, the last to be dressed, waited for one of her friends, who had broken a shoelace. While the taxi was stopped, waiting for a traffic light, Daisy and her friend came out the back of the theater. And if only one thing had happened differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee; or that woman had remembered her coat, and got into an earlier cab, Daisy and her friend would've crossed the street, and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - that taxi did not go by, and that driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Daisy, and her leg was crushed." - Benjamin Button, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button.
Oct 04, 2009.
So basically, our train back from Gwalior to New Delhi (Shatabdi #2001) was at 7:05 p.m., and at around 5 p.m. we find out the location of the local Dominoes Pizza outlet as City Mall, at M.L.B. road, Lashkar. Mayank and me decide that it'll be possible to drop by there and have a pizza considering we hadn't had any 'lunch' that day. None of us have packed, but we know that it would take us only 5 minutes to get the job done. Having thus planned our schedule, we return from the internet lab to our room to give Nikhil the update.
After packing and everything, we leave the place at 530, where there is an auto waiting for us in front of the hostel. At this point, we began to consider that it would be getting late, but still decide it would be worth to try out the mall. Now, the autos in Gwalior are extremely spacious. They have 'dikkis' as well as a rather wide passenger area. Also, there was a platform in front of the passenger area as well. The three of us were fairly comfortable. On the way to the mall, the spaciousness of the rickshaw allowed for himto pick up some 3 more passengers, thus increasing his profit on the way. I remember discussing this spaciousness of the rickshaws and their relation to business with Mayank before falling asleep, after which I can't really tell you what the journey was like; except for the fact that we crossed the railway station on the way and the rickshaw man told us that the mall was just 3 Km away from there. We timed the mall-to-station journey at about 15 minutes, and carried on.
When we reached the mall, I had the slight hesitation about carrying a lot of luggage into the mall. It was the first time I'd be doing something like this, and was slightly apprehensive about the frisking while carring two loaded bags, but the guard merely asked what was in the bags and I showed him; similarly for the other two.
Inside the mall, we got the distinct impression of it being an upgraded lighted-up version of Palika Bazaar, with its narrow corridor and somewhat circular centre. The crowd was also similar: dense, and with our luggage, a task to maneuvre. By fortune or fate, we just walked right into Domino's without asking anyone for directions on the way or anything. No seating, but as Mayank pointed out, the important thing was to get our order done. The time was 6:11. We gave our order and managed to get a table, while our bags were kept at the side for the time being.
"Dominoes takes about 12 minutes to get the pizza. So that means we'll be getting ours at 6:23.. then we'll have to leave here by 6:35, so that we reach in time," said Mayank, the experienced Dominoes customer.
6:22...6:23... and we're still waiting. "Your watch is fast. 6:23 on mine". His experience turned out to be true, and we did get it at 6:23 by his watch. However, at 6:35, we still had half a pizza left to finish, among the three of us. Being three of us, we decided to finish it off there and then leave, reasoning that 6:35 and 6:40 doesn't make much difference. At 6:40, we leave Dominoes, briskly rush out, and try getting the auto.
After about one or two rejections, we manage to get an auto. The time is 6:45 now. Unfortunately, what we hadn't accounted for, was that the traffic would blow up at that time. We hadn't even reached the first junction, when we found ourselves virtually stuck in what I termed Bombay-traffic. Nikhil reassured me saying that after that junction the traffic would ease. It did ease, but only very temporarily; for by the next junction we were again in traffic. He then reassured us saying that 'once we reach the flyover, we'll be okay'. But we didn't seem to be reaching the flyover any time soon.
Mayank then said, "We will not make it in time; but we will catch the train."
Nikhil asked him, "Is that 'but' meaning an 'and' or an 'or'?"
Mayank was like, "Its an and."
Nikhil said, "Must be an or..."
And that pretty much summed up how anxious we were at that point of time.
At 7 p.m., we reached the station. Hurrying in to look at the display board for the platform of our train, we get a major shock: there was no #2001 Shatabdi train listed. There was a train going to Delhi at 1905, but it was #2191. We rechecked our tickets: it said #2001. Nikhil went up to a counter to enquire, but the person at that counter just sent him off. He then tried to jump the queue of the other counter to enquire, but fortunately, a guy in a red shirt said that the 2191 train was ours, that it was already on the platform, and that we would be late if we waited.
Thats when we ran onto the first platform, and took the general direction towards the crossover. We virtually jogged all the way up to the crossover, only to find that it was to be reached from the outside. "What now?" I don't know who said it, but it put into words our helplessness. "Just cross over the tracks" said some guys sitting nearby, "you'll be late otherwise."
Without stopping to think, Nikhil got down onto the tracks and began to cross. Mayank followed him. Then I climbed down. Crossed over the first platform... back up onto the 2nd... got down from 3rd... up again on 4th, each time dumping my bag ahead of me as I jumped down or climbed up. We had AC class tickets and fortunately, the AC coaches were nearer to us and we didn't have to sprint the entire length of the train. The three of us hopped on, the food people confirmed we were having AC class seats, and thus we began our journey from the 8th coach down to the 2nd one.
We hadn't even crossed the 8th coach when I realized that the train had begun moving!
If only one thing had happened differently: if the comps in the lab had had to be switched on; or there hadn't been an auto waiting right in front of the hostel; or the guard at the mall had insisted on frisking us thoroughly and checking every item in all our bags; or we had had to ask for directions to Dominoes in the mall; or Dominoes hadn't lived up to its standards of 12 minutes for the order; or we had eaten a wee bit slower; or we hadn't got even the third auto from the mall; or our rickshaw hadn't pushed itself through the traffic; or the guy in the red shirt hadn't told us that it was our train; or the people next to the crossover hadn't told us to just cross the tracks, we would have missed our train and lost 2500 bucks. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - we did manage to make it onto the train, and Nikhil announced that this incident definitely deserved a blog entry.
Appendix A: Comparison of New Delhi and Gwalior
Gwalior is a small town, and has the town-feel, with narrow-ish roads which aren't burdened by traffic. Also, the air in Gwalior was highly unpolluted. I haven't faced such clean air and such great weather (slight rain) since my middle school days in Bangalore. The weather even reminded me of that. A clear contrast to New Delhi.
When we had gotten out of the station in Gwalior, the rickshaws there were all looking forward to taking us where we wished to go. We told them we were being expected, but they kept insisting that we hire them; even arguing that "why to unnecessarily worry those who have to pick you when it is night". When we returned to New Delhi, we found a number of autos; all of them empty. One or two rickshaw drivers whom we did spot, seemed to be running away from us as we approached even. We had to wait outside the station to catch a rick.
In comparing IITD to ABV-IIITM, I found the latter more 'wild', had narrower pathways, and much less 'concrete' and more 'green'. Whereas the greenery of IITD seems artificial, with lawns that are trimmed all the time, the IIITM campus had wildery all over. There were also very few students there in comparison to IITD.
Appendix B: memories/souveneirs
There are two things I find that make the trip memorable. The presence of frogs hopping around on the grass while we took a stroll is one. Why, a frog even hopped onto my foot inside the room and I hadn't realised it. The other one is a girl; one of the volunteering students, with a ponytail and a strong posture, whose name was I think Saakshi (I think I heard someone calling her), and who had a sweet voice that was unable to pronounce 'Mathias' (she said 'muh-thih-YAHS' instead of 'muh-THAH-yis') properly :P
Tuesday 6 October, 2009
Confessions of an IIT Aspirant
[Hidden theme, hope you find it. Will post a 'giveaway theme' later on.
Anyway, enjoy this account, I hope you will.
Dedicated to Nehruji, who started the IITs.]
Driving along from Bombay to Pune to visit my cousin pursuing an MTech from IITB, I remember looking out to the sea, and wondering what lay beyond the horizon. I guess that was the holiday when I had first heard of the words 'horizon' and 'skyline' and was just generally admiring the scenic beauty of the place with the mist over the water on one side, and the skyline of Bombay on the other. It was the summer vacation for my brother and me, and it was at our Aunty Annette's that we lived when we came up to Bombay. We were young back then, about ten years old, but still the 'brand IIT' had been heard of, even if not quite understood. In a land dependent on the agriculture industry, these IITs had made a dominating impact! Our cousin showed us some complicated stuff of magnets and miracles had become natural occurrences.
Back at home and back to school after the summer, we found our thoughts strayed from the lectures in class. Constantly and enthusiastically was I seen trying to explain some electromagnetic thing to my peers. I think that they only ended up thinking that my imagination was without boundary. All this was put to the back of my mind however, till 11th grade, when the ringing of alarm bells at 5:20 a.m. for the 6 o'clock coaching class would interrupt my peaceful slumbering for the next two years. Speaking of bells, it was at this time that I was introduced to Pink Floyd and their album The Division Bell. With IIT aspirations on the one hand, and school friends' fun on the other, the emotional upheavals they caused ensured that my maturation had begun.
"Along the long end of the bimetallic strip is..." started the thermo physics lecturer. "The ball rolls on this flat road and on towards the wall with a friction coefficient of ...", droned the mechanics physics lecturer. Though this should have been hectic and all, I would end up wondering about my friends in my previous school and those in my present one as I walked down the causeway. "Do they still stock up on eggs for Josephs-Germains matches?" Or else, "Maybe I should call some on them in Indiranagar and we could meet there by next week?" All this while simultaneously hoping I'd make the cut for the IIT Bombay Computer Science Department.
Then there was a time when I noticed the competition get fierce. The majority of the coaching-goers were like some ragged band that was worn out and yet still carrying on. As we led, they followed in our footsteps. My ambition was great; for my part, I was running before time, racing against it. We all had our own amibitions, and we all had to stretch, lest complacency took our dreams away.
Leaving the myriad NCERT problems in school for those not into the JEE preparation, we used to pursue those 'higher level' IIT problems during class hours, much to our teachers' displeasure. You can't blame us; those NCERT problems were like small creatures trying their best to lure us into some false sense of achievement. For their part, the teachers wanted to tie us to the NCERT syllabus, so that we acquire good marks for them in the board exams and maintain the school's reputation. Of course, we did make full use of the P.T. periods to play bolleyball in the ground. Without these little bits of fun, we would have been devoting our selves to a life of physics, chemistry and mathematics alone. Consumed by determination and perfection, we had been to excel. And the NCERT problems were left to their slow decay.
On a number of occasions, I would end up looking beyond the moments of temporary satisfaction to the impending glory at the end of those two years' hard work. On other occasions, I would look back at my past and reflect on how much I'd changed recently; seeing embers of bridges I'd crossed and realizing I could not return to being the person I'd earlier been. I doubt I was the only one who was feeling this tempestuous change; I guess we all had bridges of our own, glowing behind us. The hectic pace of our lives had transformed each memory froma clear vision to a glimpse through a fog. Memories of how green our Garden City was, were obscured by the grey concrete present of the Silicon Valley of India. It was on with the rat race for all of us JEE rats, while the others were hanging out with each other. We were all dying to get to the other side of the IIT portal.
I had to face the inevitable debate of whether I would have my steps taken forward out of passion or out of a necessity to work hard. When I was working out of passion, my progress was metaphorically not just walking ahead during the day time, but sleepwalking at night as well. Referring back again to my passion or hard-work debate, even at the height of my being driven by the former, I would doubt whether the latter was enough. I was dragged by the glamour of the computer science subject and Bombay as being the location of my favourite summer vacations. As a force of some considerable magnitude, was y aspiration to enter into the IITB Computer Science branch. This force was like an inner tide dragging me along even when my will and motivation was not very high.
During the coaching class tests, I would picture myself as an eagle soaring off at higher altitude as compared to the other birds. Or when the results of a test were declared, I'd imagine myself as a victorious captain, returning home with flag unfurled. By the end of our first year, a lot of us did indeed feel proud of where we reached in our rat race. The dizzy heights of our seniors' achievements did not look so dizzy now that we had climbed so high ourselves. That dreamed-of world at IIT had become a realistic entity.
Towards the end of the two years, looking back at those times, I thought I had been encumbered forever by various hopes and by love. Personal desire and ambition is not easy to satisfy when you are an IIT aspirant. When you want a top 50 JEE rank, or an IPhO gold medal, theres a hunger to push yourself in various directions, not always parallel. With time before the JEE running out, I found I was still unsatisfied with my preparation., but realized I could not do much about it.
Our weary eyes, having spend an eighth of their lifetime on the IITJEE cause, would relish the slightest out-of-the-ordinary sight; be it a goat with two feet on a wall reaching up to eat a few leaves off a low garden tree, or a bunch of care-free kids doing wheelies for over 100 m. on an empty stretch of road-blocked road. My eyes would still stray to a lost IPhO dream, having not qualified for the selection camp. Those daydreams can still be seen at the horizon, gleaming just out of reach. Though down this path of disappointment I had seen myself go, I would still find myself a new fool's hope to cling on to. This disappointment-following-hope road we've been down at least once; for all of us. For so many times I had witnessed the symptoms of a dying fool's hope, whether it was my X Std. board exams or my IPhO dreams, but my IITB CSE dream would be the last one I'd cling on to, till it inevitably shattered with the final disclosure of the JEE results.
Anyway, enjoy this account, I hope you will.
Dedicated to Nehruji, who started the IITs.]
Driving along from Bombay to Pune to visit my cousin pursuing an MTech from IITB, I remember looking out to the sea, and wondering what lay beyond the horizon. I guess that was the holiday when I had first heard of the words 'horizon' and 'skyline' and was just generally admiring the scenic beauty of the place with the mist over the water on one side, and the skyline of Bombay on the other. It was the summer vacation for my brother and me, and it was at our Aunty Annette's that we lived when we came up to Bombay. We were young back then, about ten years old, but still the 'brand IIT' had been heard of, even if not quite understood. In a land dependent on the agriculture industry, these IITs had made a dominating impact! Our cousin showed us some complicated stuff of magnets and miracles had become natural occurrences.
Back at home and back to school after the summer, we found our thoughts strayed from the lectures in class. Constantly and enthusiastically was I seen trying to explain some electromagnetic thing to my peers. I think that they only ended up thinking that my imagination was without boundary. All this was put to the back of my mind however, till 11th grade, when the ringing of alarm bells at 5:20 a.m. for the 6 o'clock coaching class would interrupt my peaceful slumbering for the next two years. Speaking of bells, it was at this time that I was introduced to Pink Floyd and their album The Division Bell. With IIT aspirations on the one hand, and school friends' fun on the other, the emotional upheavals they caused ensured that my maturation had begun.
"Along the long end of the bimetallic strip is..." started the thermo physics lecturer. "The ball rolls on this flat road and on towards the wall with a friction coefficient of ...", droned the mechanics physics lecturer. Though this should have been hectic and all, I would end up wondering about my friends in my previous school and those in my present one as I walked down the causeway. "Do they still stock up on eggs for Josephs-Germains matches?" Or else, "Maybe I should call some on them in Indiranagar and we could meet there by next week?" All this while simultaneously hoping I'd make the cut for the IIT Bombay Computer Science Department.
Then there was a time when I noticed the competition get fierce. The majority of the coaching-goers were like some ragged band that was worn out and yet still carrying on. As we led, they followed in our footsteps. My ambition was great; for my part, I was running before time, racing against it. We all had our own amibitions, and we all had to stretch, lest complacency took our dreams away.
Leaving the myriad NCERT problems in school for those not into the JEE preparation, we used to pursue those 'higher level' IIT problems during class hours, much to our teachers' displeasure. You can't blame us; those NCERT problems were like small creatures trying their best to lure us into some false sense of achievement. For their part, the teachers wanted to tie us to the NCERT syllabus, so that we acquire good marks for them in the board exams and maintain the school's reputation. Of course, we did make full use of the P.T. periods to play bolleyball in the ground. Without these little bits of fun, we would have been devoting our selves to a life of physics, chemistry and mathematics alone. Consumed by determination and perfection, we had been to excel. And the NCERT problems were left to their slow decay.
On a number of occasions, I would end up looking beyond the moments of temporary satisfaction to the impending glory at the end of those two years' hard work. On other occasions, I would look back at my past and reflect on how much I'd changed recently; seeing embers of bridges I'd crossed and realizing I could not return to being the person I'd earlier been. I doubt I was the only one who was feeling this tempestuous change; I guess we all had bridges of our own, glowing behind us. The hectic pace of our lives had transformed each memory froma clear vision to a glimpse through a fog. Memories of how green our Garden City was, were obscured by the grey concrete present of the Silicon Valley of India. It was on with the rat race for all of us JEE rats, while the others were hanging out with each other. We were all dying to get to the other side of the IIT portal.
I had to face the inevitable debate of whether I would have my steps taken forward out of passion or out of a necessity to work hard. When I was working out of passion, my progress was metaphorically not just walking ahead during the day time, but sleepwalking at night as well. Referring back again to my passion or hard-work debate, even at the height of my being driven by the former, I would doubt whether the latter was enough. I was dragged by the glamour of the computer science subject and Bombay as being the location of my favourite summer vacations. As a force of some considerable magnitude, was y aspiration to enter into the IITB Computer Science branch. This force was like an inner tide dragging me along even when my will and motivation was not very high.
During the coaching class tests, I would picture myself as an eagle soaring off at higher altitude as compared to the other birds. Or when the results of a test were declared, I'd imagine myself as a victorious captain, returning home with flag unfurled. By the end of our first year, a lot of us did indeed feel proud of where we reached in our rat race. The dizzy heights of our seniors' achievements did not look so dizzy now that we had climbed so high ourselves. That dreamed-of world at IIT had become a realistic entity.
Towards the end of the two years, looking back at those times, I thought I had been encumbered forever by various hopes and by love. Personal desire and ambition is not easy to satisfy when you are an IIT aspirant. When you want a top 50 JEE rank, or an IPhO gold medal, theres a hunger to push yourself in various directions, not always parallel. With time before the JEE running out, I found I was still unsatisfied with my preparation., but realized I could not do much about it.
Our weary eyes, having spend an eighth of their lifetime on the IITJEE cause, would relish the slightest out-of-the-ordinary sight; be it a goat with two feet on a wall reaching up to eat a few leaves off a low garden tree, or a bunch of care-free kids doing wheelies for over 100 m. on an empty stretch of road-blocked road. My eyes would still stray to a lost IPhO dream, having not qualified for the selection camp. Those daydreams can still be seen at the horizon, gleaming just out of reach. Though down this path of disappointment I had seen myself go, I would still find myself a new fool's hope to cling on to. This disappointment-following-hope road we've been down at least once; for all of us. For so many times I had witnessed the symptoms of a dying fool's hope, whether it was my X Std. board exams or my IPhO dreams, but my IITB CSE dream would be the last one I'd cling on to, till it inevitably shattered with the final disclosure of the JEE results.
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