She is the only lifeline people have here. She keeps this place running. She has got everyone addicted and no matter whom you are, be it the big boss or a dailywage worker, you have to knock at her door every now and then.
My first day here at this place and Wasim took Manik and me around for orientation. According to the company policy you have to take a safety orientation of the place where you are supposed to work. Reason: If you get crushed/hammered/any other of million scary things that can happen around here, you can not tell that the devil never warned before hitting. Essentially it means know what the place is, what the work is, what the hazards are, who all are the people around, where you can get all the help you need and all that you actually need to know about the place. They also tell you that the beach is around the corner and also that on the next corner awaits Tsunami. Well, we can leave some corners unexplored.
“Now the most important part of the orientation” said Wasim after the round of the place. “This is our little canteen and she is Lakshmi”. Lakshmi lookes like any other girl I had seen in this part of the country. Short, slim, dark and a traditional outfit. “Lakshmi tea please”. I finished the cup of tea at my galloping pace and never even realized how important this small little ritual is going to be in the near future.
Lakshmi, tea, coffee, sugar, milk, no, yes, one, two, half makes up most of the conversation that involves Lakshmi. Yet she serves people from many nationalities and makes all the kinds of teas and coffees possible. Every one likes all her coffees/teas. And everyone understands that even though she only understands Telugu a polite thank you is always welcome and greeted with a smile.
It’s a small steel container which substitutes for a kitchen and an electric kettle is the all in one oven and teapot. She is the heartthrob of all around here. In absence or even in presence of any other girl (which by the way is very rare) it’s Lakshmi who takes all the flirting that happens around. Of course she doesn’t understand what the guys say but she knows that no one means any harm.
As the place runs seven days a week so does Lakshmi’s work. People never even notice if a big boss/an engineer/a specialist/any other person is gone for a month but everyone here is effected if Lakshmi is not around for one day. You can see many lifeless bodies moving around missing that much needed cup of tea. Even the tea that driver gets from some tea stall from the town won’t help. It’s the magic of Lakshmi’s hands that keeps running things around.
Last but not the least don’t forget to give her a tip once in a while. You will get to taste some of the best offerings from Lakshmi’s kitchen.
In search of energy sources down the earth all these souls almost run on the energy of Lakshmi drinks. Cheers to the taste that is not lost in translation.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
SLB >>>GRAFITI <<< BSL
It was a simple plain white board hanging on a simple plain wall. It still must be a simple plain white board hanging on another simple plain wall. It was there next to the dining table. Like any other white board, smooth, shining, a steel edge etc. It was our menu board.
After shifting in this staff house I had seen all those names of dishes appear, disappear and reappear on this board. After a month and half, not only was I feeling a bit tired of that yellow dal (which very notoriously kept appearing at every meal!!) even the board seemed tired of being a ‘Menu Board’.
That day I had this big argument with the supervisor over that stupid yellow dal. It wasn’t really an argument. I spoke, shouted, made a point, thinking that I had made a point tried to make another one and on and on. Supervisor just said ‘Yes’ and sometimes to break the monotony of his replies a ‘No’.
It was still sometime before others would come for dinner and I after that one sided argument decided to do something regarding that menu board.
I had a permanent marker. Got it from the room, relieved the board from the burden of the menu and scribbled incoherently on that board. End result looked something like this:
SLB >>>GRAFITI <<< BSL
Thot 4 d day:
“If you don’t want to live please die, but let others live.”
MAHATMA BUSH
Need of(f) d day:
1. Days of(f) peace
2. Please stop making yellow dal
It was January 05. The mistake I made was I told the supervisor that the board could be cleaned using kerosene/diesel/petrol. Before an hour passed I found that little board was shining white once again. This time I asked for a marker from the supervisor and told him that from now on the board will be used as graffiti and not for writing menus. I was shouting and it had its effect. They didn’t do anything to my graffiti. Next two days went smoothly and I changed the incoherent thoughts on that board daily before dinner.
January 06:
SLB >>>GRAFITI <<< BSL
Thot 4 d day:
“If you can’t score centuries get others run-out before they score more than you.”
Prince Ganguly (fully supported by Mian Haq)
Tip of the day:
Listen 2 d “sounds of silence”
Attraction of d day:
Laughter Challenge, 10 pm, StarOne
Request of d day:
Everyone is invited to add/write (of course if u can find/make space)
January 07:
SLB >>>GRAFITI <<< BSL
Thot 4 d day:
If a referee shows u a yellow card, don’t throw ur arms around. He has got a red one in his pocket.
If an umpire gives u out (even if u r not), don’t make faces. Match referee will take ur match fees.
Remember it can be worse
Tip of d day:
Its gud not to make sense sometimes. Its better not to make sense all the times.
Request 4 d day:
I hope u remember yesterday’s request.
“Titanic never saw daylight again”, that older version of Kate comes to mind when I think that my Graffiti never saw another dinner again. When we returned from work the next day the board was gone. “Sir, our manager came and took it away”, supervisor informed me. Why? “It is only for writing menu”.
A cup of tea and few samosas later I looked at that empty space on the wall where that board had been. Two nails happily stood tall relieved of the burden.
Some other day, some other time I will think about the board and will decide how many more days would I have continued with my graffiti. But today we all missed those few words which I just scribbled without thinking and others rarely noticed.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Where is the Journalist?
There used to be pen in their hands. It has been replaced by mikes. They used to have a writing pad to scribble the world onto it. Now they have those recording machines. They used to think and ask and hear and write. Now they don’t think and ask and don’t hear and ask again. There used to be camera dangling around their necks. Now they have a cameraman and a video recorder along. They used to observe and wait and observe and click. They used to click moments and bring out generations. Now they don’t observe, the cameraman tries to capture everything which he can, they record life and bring out chaos.
A soldier died fighting for his country. He was a Major. His body is brought to his native place. They are taking him to the cremation grounds. He was the only son of the parents. They are mourning him but they are proud. Their son has lived as their son but he has died as a son of million mothers. He was a son of the nation.
The make up done, the mikes ready and videotape rolling, this young lady who looks more like ready for a walk on the ramp is ready for her interview of the life. That Khadi Kurta fails to make her look like a Journalist.
Ms Reporter is in the frame. The mother of the “News Item” is silently following her son in his last journey. With a smile on her face the reporter blurts out the question from the list provided by the producer. “How are you feeling right now Mrs. …..”. A tear rolls down the eyes of the mother and she moves on.
How would a mother feel after loosing her son? I guess on top of the world!!!
Where is the mind of the journalist?
In Bangalore Prof. M C Puri from IIT Delhi has been killed when someone started firing outside Tata auditorium. The news has been on air for some time now. And in less than 30 minutes the “Journalists” are their in front of the Professors house. They would not have cared if he had invented new theories for operations research. But now he is a ‘News Item’. After all they have to keep their channels running 24 X 7.
The guy in a well made suit, with a polished accent is proud like he has won a gold medal for India in Olympics as he asks “Hello Pradeep. Can you hear me? Pradeep tell us how is the atmosphere in and around the house of …ummm…. ummm…. Prof Puri.”
How was the atmosphere in his house when his old man passed away? They must have danced whole night.
Where is the culture called Journalism?
It has become a war among channels. They hide cameras in people’s houses and call themselves Tehelka. They care more about Shahid and Kareena kissing then they care about Manjunath’s being killed. They print 40 pages of newspaper. The news in those 40 is less than 4 pages. They care about selling News Items than bringing news to the ‘Junta’. They run factories. They manufacture news. They don’t want to bring the truth of what is happening around. They just want to be the first to bring a News Item to you.
A pen used to be mightier than sword. They don’t fight with swords anymore and pen I guess can’t compete with bullets and bombs. The pen is lost somewhere. The might of pen is lost somewhere. The hands and minds that used the pen are lost.
Where is the Journalist?
A soldier died fighting for his country. He was a Major. His body is brought to his native place. They are taking him to the cremation grounds. He was the only son of the parents. They are mourning him but they are proud. Their son has lived as their son but he has died as a son of million mothers. He was a son of the nation.
The make up done, the mikes ready and videotape rolling, this young lady who looks more like ready for a walk on the ramp is ready for her interview of the life. That Khadi Kurta fails to make her look like a Journalist.
Ms Reporter is in the frame. The mother of the “News Item” is silently following her son in his last journey. With a smile on her face the reporter blurts out the question from the list provided by the producer. “How are you feeling right now Mrs. …..”. A tear rolls down the eyes of the mother and she moves on.
How would a mother feel after loosing her son? I guess on top of the world!!!
Where is the mind of the journalist?
In Bangalore Prof. M C Puri from IIT Delhi has been killed when someone started firing outside Tata auditorium. The news has been on air for some time now. And in less than 30 minutes the “Journalists” are their in front of the Professors house. They would not have cared if he had invented new theories for operations research. But now he is a ‘News Item’. After all they have to keep their channels running 24 X 7.
The guy in a well made suit, with a polished accent is proud like he has won a gold medal for India in Olympics as he asks “Hello Pradeep. Can you hear me? Pradeep tell us how is the atmosphere in and around the house of …ummm…. ummm…. Prof Puri.”
How was the atmosphere in his house when his old man passed away? They must have danced whole night.
Where is the culture called Journalism?
It has become a war among channels. They hide cameras in people’s houses and call themselves Tehelka. They care more about Shahid and Kareena kissing then they care about Manjunath’s being killed. They print 40 pages of newspaper. The news in those 40 is less than 4 pages. They care about selling News Items than bringing news to the ‘Junta’. They run factories. They manufacture news. They don’t want to bring the truth of what is happening around. They just want to be the first to bring a News Item to you.
A pen used to be mightier than sword. They don’t fight with swords anymore and pen I guess can’t compete with bullets and bombs. The pen is lost somewhere. The might of pen is lost somewhere. The hands and minds that used the pen are lost.
Where is the Journalist?
Sunday, December 18, 2005
That was. This is.
‘Behti hui lehron ke saath to har koi tair leta hai,
Asli insaan wahi hai jo lehron ko cheerkar aage badhe’
These words from ‘Ghulam’ come running to my mind as I look at those five odd boats standing strong against the march of waters. The fishermen on the boat are holding onto the nets and traps which will bring food for their families. They ride the ocean like warriors, like men possessed.
Away from the noise of traffic and machines and life, the roar of the ocean brings peace to mind and the madness of wind makes you feel alive. The trees running along the beach as far the eyes can see and the huge waves jumping madly in the joy of having found the long lost shores make every heart fill with wild enthusiasm. Here on this earth almost every heart is gay.
There are no bikinis around and even men here prefer huge shorts (if we can call these as shorts, some are even in trousers or lowers). Girls give a cry of joy every time the waves kiss their feet. The Sarees and the Salwars get their share of sand and salt. Yes, this is also a beach, like any beach you would have seen in Baywatch and a small sunday crowd, unlike any crowd you could have seen in Baywatch.
Perfect place for few quite moments. No one to disturb, if you don’t consider that little kid who just won one rupee from me. At some places heaven do exist in this world. And still if you want the whole beach for yourself come here on any week day. No stalls or beach restaurants just few cycle peddlers trying to walk there cycles on the sand. It’s a beautiful day, as beautiful as any day can be.
Sitting half under the shadow of a boat I try to take in the vastness of the waters. The waters are happy, having found their ways from all around to be a part of the giant. Some hundred miles away the storm is gathering all the forces and is marching towards the land. The last one was kind and changed its path before bringing the destruction. It was BAAZ. Let’s pray FANOOS is also kind on mankind.
The boat seems to be out of use. Only being used by the kids to play and rarely acting as a ladies room. I look at the boat and that cardboard boat brings smile on my face. What a hard time we had getting those giants of card boards cut and then screwed (or rather bolted) together.
I don’t really remember the name of the play, was it Maut (death) or was it Ant (end). Bhool and Sharma were, and are, brilliant actors and we decided that the set won’t let them down this time. The event depicted in the play happens on a beach. So we got all this big card boards and some how managed to cut them into this huge boat shape. Screwing them together was a big trouble and those card boards kept on falling apart. Deepi, Hills and me had real tough time getting that boat ready and those stones, Ha!!, brown paper folded into spheres which were not so spherical. And that spray was an ingenious idea from Hills. It was our second year at IIT. We still had that RCA enthu in those days. The team effort paid, Sharma was best actor and Aravali second.
Asli insaan wahi hai jo lehron ko cheerkar aage badhe’
These words from ‘Ghulam’ come running to my mind as I look at those five odd boats standing strong against the march of waters. The fishermen on the boat are holding onto the nets and traps which will bring food for their families. They ride the ocean like warriors, like men possessed.
Away from the noise of traffic and machines and life, the roar of the ocean brings peace to mind and the madness of wind makes you feel alive. The trees running along the beach as far the eyes can see and the huge waves jumping madly in the joy of having found the long lost shores make every heart fill with wild enthusiasm. Here on this earth almost every heart is gay.
There are no bikinis around and even men here prefer huge shorts (if we can call these as shorts, some are even in trousers or lowers). Girls give a cry of joy every time the waves kiss their feet. The Sarees and the Salwars get their share of sand and salt. Yes, this is also a beach, like any beach you would have seen in Baywatch and a small sunday crowd, unlike any crowd you could have seen in Baywatch.
Perfect place for few quite moments. No one to disturb, if you don’t consider that little kid who just won one rupee from me. At some places heaven do exist in this world. And still if you want the whole beach for yourself come here on any week day. No stalls or beach restaurants just few cycle peddlers trying to walk there cycles on the sand. It’s a beautiful day, as beautiful as any day can be.
Sitting half under the shadow of a boat I try to take in the vastness of the waters. The waters are happy, having found their ways from all around to be a part of the giant. Some hundred miles away the storm is gathering all the forces and is marching towards the land. The last one was kind and changed its path before bringing the destruction. It was BAAZ. Let’s pray FANOOS is also kind on mankind.
The boat seems to be out of use. Only being used by the kids to play and rarely acting as a ladies room. I look at the boat and that cardboard boat brings smile on my face. What a hard time we had getting those giants of card boards cut and then screwed (or rather bolted) together.
I don’t really remember the name of the play, was it Maut (death) or was it Ant (end). Bhool and Sharma were, and are, brilliant actors and we decided that the set won’t let them down this time. The event depicted in the play happens on a beach. So we got all this big card boards and some how managed to cut them into this huge boat shape. Screwing them together was a big trouble and those card boards kept on falling apart. Deepi, Hills and me had real tough time getting that boat ready and those stones, Ha!!, brown paper folded into spheres which were not so spherical. And that spray was an ingenious idea from Hills. It was our second year at IIT. We still had that RCA enthu in those days. The team effort paid, Sharma was best actor and Aravali second.
The white cloth with blue stripes of paint, the sound of waves coming from synth along with our upturned screwed up boat and more than many brown paper stones hardly made the stage look and sound like a beach. But once Sharma and Bhool weaved their magic, the beach had come alive.
The cycle peddler brings me back to Kakinada beach. The beach is getting livelier as the evening progresses. He wants me to buy something. He speaks Telugu and I can’t understand what he is selling. Being the only Sardar here every seller and beggar (though very few are here) is tempted to try their luck. I gave him two rupees without knowing what I am shopping. Moongphali it was.
The fishermen are pulling up their nets. Its getting dark and they have to get their catch to the beach, sort it out and move it to the market before it gets dark. It is time to go home.
Our card board boat looked beautiful just like this boat the kids are still playing with. We were proud of our effort. After the play was over we forgot the boat. It had served its purpose. Actually we had planned to bring back the boat to the hostel and keep it as a trophy for all those night outs we put in stitching it together. Someone must have made similar plans for this boat. The card boards must have burnt well in the winter night helping the security guard keep the cold away. This boat waits.
The cycle peddler brings me back to Kakinada beach. The beach is getting livelier as the evening progresses. He wants me to buy something. He speaks Telugu and I can’t understand what he is selling. Being the only Sardar here every seller and beggar (though very few are here) is tempted to try their luck. I gave him two rupees without knowing what I am shopping. Moongphali it was.
The fishermen are pulling up their nets. Its getting dark and they have to get their catch to the beach, sort it out and move it to the market before it gets dark. It is time to go home.
Our card board boat looked beautiful just like this boat the kids are still playing with. We were proud of our effort. After the play was over we forgot the boat. It had served its purpose. Actually we had planned to bring back the boat to the hostel and keep it as a trophy for all those night outs we put in stitching it together. Someone must have made similar plans for this boat. The card boards must have burnt well in the winter night helping the security guard keep the cold away. This boat waits.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
The Hopping Cream
Well this is a continuation of the discussion which one of my dear friends started and I got to look at those pages now. Please visit http://goyaldeepi.blogspot.com/ and do look at Hop Hop Hop! and The Right People For A Poor Nation.
Taking up a job, going for MS, MBA, IAS or even starting up a firm is matter of a personal choice. More often than not the choice is defined by the circumstances and society of each individual. Around 50% of IITians finish their studies on scholarships and loans and by the time they are graduates many responsibilities are staring them. Yes nation is also their responsibilty but to every Indian family comes first. So a job is often the most appropriate choice and solution to the present need and the future.
Not all the IITians are bound to opt for jobs after their degrees and they can start out on a mission impossible of helping out this poor nation by starting up a firm but the question here remains is what a person aspires to be. What are the things an individual wants in the life and most importantly by the end of the life. Most IITians given a choive would rather not be IITians, it’s the society that pushes the intelligent and hard working to go for IITs (not that others are not intelligent and hard working, its just that these few got lucky on the day of exams and became part of the cream of the nation). Hardly 10% of graduates from IITs are actually engineers, we generally just pass our courses and minimum requirements for the degree. So the question is what an individaul aspires for and what all is required for him/her to live out the life in the way the person plans to live it. And its not neccesarry that a startup is the right answer for it. After all you have got only one life and you would surely not want it to be blown away for the cause of a nation which hardly recognises any thing except one Sachin. Even Dhanraj Pillay or for that matter Ganguly don’t matter these days.
As far as helping the nation goes even taking a job helps the nation. You pay the taxes to the govt. (it’s a different thing that taxes are used to help our politicains live like kings). And if we work for a US based company in india we pay the taxes and the company pays our country the foreign exchnage. And if we work outside, I wont believe if you say that you don’t send money back home. Again we send foreign exchange. I agree these are very small and insignificant contributions but every individual has to live out his own life and take care of his/her family also. If we say that people go and settle out it is again the choice they made. But we should not grudge their choices but see what all we can do at our individual level.
If we sincerely do our jobs no matter how small or big we are helping our nation. Only IITians cant make this poor nation rich and this nation is actually not as poor, but developing a country is every citizen's responsibility. And startups are not the only way to develop a country.
It can be looked upon like this. Even if I start a company I would be making products for someone, using soemone's technology, selling my technology to someone, buying someone's products, selling someone's product and selling someone my products. And more often than not that someone will be US or other countries. The company will pay taxes to the govt. and bring in foreign exchange, which even an IITian with a job does. Of course the companies bring employment.
I sincerely envy the guys who have the guts and courage of starting a firm after graduation. These few are dreamers who are ready to make them real, not like me. But in real life things are some time too real. So here I am helping my nation by paying taxes.
And saying that 25k per month is not what we deserve is totally inappropriate. We hardly know anything about work when we graduate. These companies are actually paying us to learn. All those years at IIT rarely help in our jobs. And even staring at excel sheets and making sense out of these takes intelligence and courage. If every IITian is to start a new firm who will run the companies that exist not that others can’t. I may not be the CEO of my company but I may one day be the CEO of some company. It again is the matter of choice.
If we eventually chose a job, which most of us does, then comes the most difficult and most common question of hopping. Hop Hop Hop, why? Deepi is almost right when he says “They havent quite started and they are already hopping.” But again hopping in this shark infested corporate world is as essential as food is for living. There is this other side which he has not seen and I have seen partly. Its already have two hops to my credit and one more and I will be on your blacklist bugsy :) . Its very similar to giving more than one entrance exams for getting into professional colleges, doing MBA or IAS after engineering. It is essentialy human to do such things like hop hop and hop. Human nature to go for the best.
We always strive to achieve best for ourselves in any way we can. That’s why we mugged like anything to get into IITs at first. And if we are the best in the nation, the cream, than if an indiviadual thinks that he/she has a better oportunity why not grab it. But again this corporate world is not as it may appear. No matter how much we research about a company we cant actually find what is in store for us unless we actually join a firm. I joined a firm which promised 4.6 lacs per annum. They paid around 2 rest all was lost in some finance and accountancy tricks. The company is good but not the pay. I got another opportunity. HOP. This one actually pays 4 but the work some how is not what I could motivate myself to do. Got another opportunity. HOP. Lets hope for the best now.
Hopping immediately after joining a firm is a crime becuase we cant judge a company in two weeks or one month. It would be best to give every job a chance may be a year or a half before you hop, but again its true that like you should go for a startup when young you can only hop when fresh from college. Every individual has to settle down before its time that the liabilities build up. Hence, hopping also occurs when legs are young.I agree that hop hop hop is wrong but finding right place where a person fits well, finding right kind of work which a person likes takes time and we learn only when we make mistakes and from our experiences and hence the quest for finding a job which pays well (most imp), suits a person and which promises a future is what everyone strives for. And not everyone is lucky enough to get that kind of job at the campus recruitments.
I also had the same views that seniors do harm to the college name when they hop. Its tragic that people do sometimes bring bad name to the institutes by the way they work and the way they grow/stop their relationships with a company. But it is not always the case. And its also sad on the part of companies part to take an individual’s behaviour as an institute behaviour. From my personal experience and my two hops I can assure my juniors that those companies are happy with the performance of an IIT Delhite and they will come and recruit in future. I guess if we all can ensure this than our juniors wont suffer. Even if an individual has to leave a firm within a week or a month of joining , the situation can be very well explained to company you are leaving. Leave a company like a professional, don't run like a criminal.
Companies not coming to IITD because of seniors hopping is a very wrong statement. It essentially is a blame we humans put on others for our misfortunes. Believe me when I say this, graduates from other IITs hop more than Delhites do but the companies go there and recruit. The thing is the lack of initiative which students show in Delhi. There are few enthusiasts that take up responsibilty and involve themselve in the process and activities of traning and placement cell. But often I have seen these involvements end with a good job for themselves. So essentially this is where IITD lacks: A healthy student involvement in TnP activities. All other IITs get their job quotas filled much before Delhi only because we wont involve ourselves. I know TnP cell and how pathetic it is, but where is our involvement.
Its easier to preach I guess. I never involved myself in such activities. I had the enthusiasm but I guess I directed it toward some other activities. It’s a gud excuse for not getting into TnP activities. That was where I wronged. I wish my juniors have better sense. We guys can find lakhs of rupees for Rendezvous and Sportech, we can find colleges for socials :P, we surely can bring companies to the campus.
Few things which students can take care of and ensure better placement results. The general studs are requested not to sit for those companies which they actually plan not to join and just want to go to group discussions for their practise. Let others clear the GDs. Acad studs are requested not to apply for those universities which they plan not to join. Let others get a call and a schol. Chennai has a good system for this.
All things about placements, hopping and staying in country and working for the nation all boil down to personal choice. A person wont spend his time in a company for his juniors or for the good name of institute. Every individual has the right to decide what path is best for his/her career, which company is best and whether there will be 3 or 10 hops before a person lands at the place which suits him/her. But reckless hopping can be avoided. And as far as the nation goes, if an Indian grows India will.
Taking up a job, going for MS, MBA, IAS or even starting up a firm is matter of a personal choice. More often than not the choice is defined by the circumstances and society of each individual. Around 50% of IITians finish their studies on scholarships and loans and by the time they are graduates many responsibilities are staring them. Yes nation is also their responsibilty but to every Indian family comes first. So a job is often the most appropriate choice and solution to the present need and the future.
Not all the IITians are bound to opt for jobs after their degrees and they can start out on a mission impossible of helping out this poor nation by starting up a firm but the question here remains is what a person aspires to be. What are the things an individual wants in the life and most importantly by the end of the life. Most IITians given a choive would rather not be IITians, it’s the society that pushes the intelligent and hard working to go for IITs (not that others are not intelligent and hard working, its just that these few got lucky on the day of exams and became part of the cream of the nation). Hardly 10% of graduates from IITs are actually engineers, we generally just pass our courses and minimum requirements for the degree. So the question is what an individaul aspires for and what all is required for him/her to live out the life in the way the person plans to live it. And its not neccesarry that a startup is the right answer for it. After all you have got only one life and you would surely not want it to be blown away for the cause of a nation which hardly recognises any thing except one Sachin. Even Dhanraj Pillay or for that matter Ganguly don’t matter these days.
As far as helping the nation goes even taking a job helps the nation. You pay the taxes to the govt. (it’s a different thing that taxes are used to help our politicains live like kings). And if we work for a US based company in india we pay the taxes and the company pays our country the foreign exchnage. And if we work outside, I wont believe if you say that you don’t send money back home. Again we send foreign exchange. I agree these are very small and insignificant contributions but every individual has to live out his own life and take care of his/her family also. If we say that people go and settle out it is again the choice they made. But we should not grudge their choices but see what all we can do at our individual level.
If we sincerely do our jobs no matter how small or big we are helping our nation. Only IITians cant make this poor nation rich and this nation is actually not as poor, but developing a country is every citizen's responsibility. And startups are not the only way to develop a country.
It can be looked upon like this. Even if I start a company I would be making products for someone, using soemone's technology, selling my technology to someone, buying someone's products, selling someone's product and selling someone my products. And more often than not that someone will be US or other countries. The company will pay taxes to the govt. and bring in foreign exchange, which even an IITian with a job does. Of course the companies bring employment.
I sincerely envy the guys who have the guts and courage of starting a firm after graduation. These few are dreamers who are ready to make them real, not like me. But in real life things are some time too real. So here I am helping my nation by paying taxes.
And saying that 25k per month is not what we deserve is totally inappropriate. We hardly know anything about work when we graduate. These companies are actually paying us to learn. All those years at IIT rarely help in our jobs. And even staring at excel sheets and making sense out of these takes intelligence and courage. If every IITian is to start a new firm who will run the companies that exist not that others can’t. I may not be the CEO of my company but I may one day be the CEO of some company. It again is the matter of choice.
If we eventually chose a job, which most of us does, then comes the most difficult and most common question of hopping. Hop Hop Hop, why? Deepi is almost right when he says “They havent quite started and they are already hopping.” But again hopping in this shark infested corporate world is as essential as food is for living. There is this other side which he has not seen and I have seen partly. Its already have two hops to my credit and one more and I will be on your blacklist bugsy :) . Its very similar to giving more than one entrance exams for getting into professional colleges, doing MBA or IAS after engineering. It is essentialy human to do such things like hop hop and hop. Human nature to go for the best.
We always strive to achieve best for ourselves in any way we can. That’s why we mugged like anything to get into IITs at first. And if we are the best in the nation, the cream, than if an indiviadual thinks that he/she has a better oportunity why not grab it. But again this corporate world is not as it may appear. No matter how much we research about a company we cant actually find what is in store for us unless we actually join a firm. I joined a firm which promised 4.6 lacs per annum. They paid around 2 rest all was lost in some finance and accountancy tricks. The company is good but not the pay. I got another opportunity. HOP. This one actually pays 4 but the work some how is not what I could motivate myself to do. Got another opportunity. HOP. Lets hope for the best now.
Hopping immediately after joining a firm is a crime becuase we cant judge a company in two weeks or one month. It would be best to give every job a chance may be a year or a half before you hop, but again its true that like you should go for a startup when young you can only hop when fresh from college. Every individual has to settle down before its time that the liabilities build up. Hence, hopping also occurs when legs are young.I agree that hop hop hop is wrong but finding right place where a person fits well, finding right kind of work which a person likes takes time and we learn only when we make mistakes and from our experiences and hence the quest for finding a job which pays well (most imp), suits a person and which promises a future is what everyone strives for. And not everyone is lucky enough to get that kind of job at the campus recruitments.
I also had the same views that seniors do harm to the college name when they hop. Its tragic that people do sometimes bring bad name to the institutes by the way they work and the way they grow/stop their relationships with a company. But it is not always the case. And its also sad on the part of companies part to take an individual’s behaviour as an institute behaviour. From my personal experience and my two hops I can assure my juniors that those companies are happy with the performance of an IIT Delhite and they will come and recruit in future. I guess if we all can ensure this than our juniors wont suffer. Even if an individual has to leave a firm within a week or a month of joining , the situation can be very well explained to company you are leaving. Leave a company like a professional, don't run like a criminal.
Companies not coming to IITD because of seniors hopping is a very wrong statement. It essentially is a blame we humans put on others for our misfortunes. Believe me when I say this, graduates from other IITs hop more than Delhites do but the companies go there and recruit. The thing is the lack of initiative which students show in Delhi. There are few enthusiasts that take up responsibilty and involve themselve in the process and activities of traning and placement cell. But often I have seen these involvements end with a good job for themselves. So essentially this is where IITD lacks: A healthy student involvement in TnP activities. All other IITs get their job quotas filled much before Delhi only because we wont involve ourselves. I know TnP cell and how pathetic it is, but where is our involvement.
Its easier to preach I guess. I never involved myself in such activities. I had the enthusiasm but I guess I directed it toward some other activities. It’s a gud excuse for not getting into TnP activities. That was where I wronged. I wish my juniors have better sense. We guys can find lakhs of rupees for Rendezvous and Sportech, we can find colleges for socials :P, we surely can bring companies to the campus.
Few things which students can take care of and ensure better placement results. The general studs are requested not to sit for those companies which they actually plan not to join and just want to go to group discussions for their practise. Let others clear the GDs. Acad studs are requested not to apply for those universities which they plan not to join. Let others get a call and a schol. Chennai has a good system for this.
All things about placements, hopping and staying in country and working for the nation all boil down to personal choice. A person wont spend his time in a company for his juniors or for the good name of institute. Every individual has the right to decide what path is best for his/her career, which company is best and whether there will be 3 or 10 hops before a person lands at the place which suits him/her. But reckless hopping can be avoided. And as far as the nation goes, if an Indian grows India will.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Lord of Back Benches
He was feeling a little tired. It was physics class and that teacher had no idea what physics was all about. He had been the best student of Onkar Singh, which meant that this teacher could take few lectures in physics from him. He decided some rest will be great and will make other lectures a little easy to bear.
About half an hour after the class started Prof. Harpreet (I am not sure his name was Harpreet, but I am dead sure he was never a Prof, lets call him pH) noticed him. After a lot of pointing, pin pointing, re-pointing, calling, shouting and many other ing’s pH was able to make that fellow raise his head from the bench. He has been sleeping well. The sleep on a bench in a lecture is the best sleep in a student’s life.
pH had been looking for an opportunity to set him right. His questions always made pH look silly. pH asked him why he was sleeping in the class. “You think you know all the physics”. ‘Maybe not whole but more than you know’ he thought. He raised his sleepy, lazy body a bit higher. He had undone few buttons of his shirt. It was pretty hot and that 1962 fan still going strong in 1999 was in real need of some concepts of physics. The efficiency of the iron giant had increased from 30% conversion of electrical energy into sound to 100% sound.
“Get up. Is this Shalimar Bagh?” I had never found anything charming in Shalimar Bagh, but everybody used this term to refer a useless kind of luxury. Of course it was not Shalimar Bagh. Today pH was in no mood of letting him win the argument. pH rushed and raised his right hand, but he was not as sleepy as pH had thought. That hand was stopped midway, and pH was in Principal’s office before he could redo those buttons.
He, pH, Principal, his hostel warden and Pricipal’s office. Five minutes of hearing from one ear and letting it out of other and he was back to that last bench. That day the spirit of back benchers won. Though he never realized but the journey toward LBB had begun.
LBB: Lord of back benches. There are many special features of this species.
They are most probably found in the last one or two rows in the lecture halls, most probably because some times they are found out (we will discuss this).
They never look like Lords, unless of course they are at their best which essentially means they are sleeping on their thrones (read benches).
There can be more than one lord at the same time for a given bench, depending upon three B’s. How big the Bench is? How Boring the lecture is? How big the Butts are?
They don’t believe in refusing. There is no LOC on back benches. Everybody is invited. After all the number of LBB’s decide the average grade in a course.
If a particular lecturer is a lady and she happens to be good looking one, the number of LBB’s is drastically reduced, which essentially proves that LBB’s are also humans.
There are many other features and each LBB is like the last living being of a nearly extinct species.
So after that moral victory over pH I was like a champion back bencher. Never too bad at academics I never cared much about pH and how acidic or basic my final score sheet he can make. I lost five points in my physics practical but that sleep on back benches is worth n points. n = total points – passing points. Even LBB’s are supposed to get there promotions to next levels and better back benches. Passing points can never be compromised, after all beds are also supposed to be slept on.
At IIT the back benches had extra advantages attached to it. That 75% attendance rule always ensured that the cream of the nation had there alarms up and working. And the design of the lecture halls ensured that the alarms were comfortably set till the last few minutes of the lecture when you can sneak in like a 007 and slip your ass on to the back bench. The 75% rule made more LBB’s than any of those deadly boring professors.
But sometimes it was unavoidable. You can’t beat the Prof. You can’t beat the room design. And you can’t beat the course content. A tough (fighter in IIT lingo) course and you have to show your dumb sleepy face to the Prof. No chance of proxies. Such tough and hard situations brought the best out of LBB’s and the real Lords showed there character. LBB’s found holding on to there beloved thrones were the men (rarely a lady) of substance and to be looked on with respect.
LBBs sometime preferred a stroll outside. When proxies were easy or the prof was cool about the attendance bullshit. One of our profs was real smart. He took attendance both at the start and end of the class. But the door behind those back benches was his unknown foe. The class which had around 60 students during first and last five minutes had 15 short for rest of the lecture. I told you LBBs sometime preferred a stroll outside.
When asked the reason of being LBB you get to listen all kind of responses. No response is the most common response.
“We back benchers believe in healthy competition. Let the lesser brains learn.”
“Like least distance of distinct vision everyone has a least distance of distinct learning, and in our case it always happens to be the maximum distance from the sources of noise (which by the way are professors).”
“Making notes in class costs a copy and a pen. Getting notes photocopied costs 50 paise per page. Sleeping in class priceless.” This one must be carrying a lot of VISA cards in his pocket.
And it is a fact that without LBBs the number of machines that Xerox sells would fall drastically. LBBs play their part in running the economy.
LBBs are the favorite students of teachers (though they will never admit this fact). LBBs never ask questions and whenever teachers want to look really intelligent and smart, they can simply ask a stupid question to those back benchers.
And from the back benches people learn much more about the lives of people sitting in that room. From observing the dogs that sleep in the lecture halls to the new preferences of the ladies in the class, nothing goes unobserved from those LBBs. Sometimes they also wish to be sitting butt to butt with those rare beauties, but than back benches are not as choosy as the one or two non-males you get in engineering colleges.
Apart from the attendance rule and boring profs there are many reasons we have LBBs. Very obvious being the existence of back benches. Also there are many tasks which are much more important like reading novels, writing, and the best one being playing games and making sketches of the profs. Believe me many talents take birth on those few benches.
All said and done. Back benches rock. Back benchers rule. Hail the lords.
PS: In keeping with the LBB tradition I would like to thank Rohinton Mistry for coining the term, LBB. I really don’t know if he coined the term or he also stole it like me.
About half an hour after the class started Prof. Harpreet (I am not sure his name was Harpreet, but I am dead sure he was never a Prof, lets call him pH) noticed him. After a lot of pointing, pin pointing, re-pointing, calling, shouting and many other ing’s pH was able to make that fellow raise his head from the bench. He has been sleeping well. The sleep on a bench in a lecture is the best sleep in a student’s life.
pH had been looking for an opportunity to set him right. His questions always made pH look silly. pH asked him why he was sleeping in the class. “You think you know all the physics”. ‘Maybe not whole but more than you know’ he thought. He raised his sleepy, lazy body a bit higher. He had undone few buttons of his shirt. It was pretty hot and that 1962 fan still going strong in 1999 was in real need of some concepts of physics. The efficiency of the iron giant had increased from 30% conversion of electrical energy into sound to 100% sound.
“Get up. Is this Shalimar Bagh?” I had never found anything charming in Shalimar Bagh, but everybody used this term to refer a useless kind of luxury. Of course it was not Shalimar Bagh. Today pH was in no mood of letting him win the argument. pH rushed and raised his right hand, but he was not as sleepy as pH had thought. That hand was stopped midway, and pH was in Principal’s office before he could redo those buttons.
He, pH, Principal, his hostel warden and Pricipal’s office. Five minutes of hearing from one ear and letting it out of other and he was back to that last bench. That day the spirit of back benchers won. Though he never realized but the journey toward LBB had begun.
LBB: Lord of back benches. There are many special features of this species.
They are most probably found in the last one or two rows in the lecture halls, most probably because some times they are found out (we will discuss this).
They never look like Lords, unless of course they are at their best which essentially means they are sleeping on their thrones (read benches).
There can be more than one lord at the same time for a given bench, depending upon three B’s. How big the Bench is? How Boring the lecture is? How big the Butts are?
They don’t believe in refusing. There is no LOC on back benches. Everybody is invited. After all the number of LBB’s decide the average grade in a course.
If a particular lecturer is a lady and she happens to be good looking one, the number of LBB’s is drastically reduced, which essentially proves that LBB’s are also humans.
There are many other features and each LBB is like the last living being of a nearly extinct species.
So after that moral victory over pH I was like a champion back bencher. Never too bad at academics I never cared much about pH and how acidic or basic my final score sheet he can make. I lost five points in my physics practical but that sleep on back benches is worth n points. n = total points – passing points. Even LBB’s are supposed to get there promotions to next levels and better back benches. Passing points can never be compromised, after all beds are also supposed to be slept on.
At IIT the back benches had extra advantages attached to it. That 75% attendance rule always ensured that the cream of the nation had there alarms up and working. And the design of the lecture halls ensured that the alarms were comfortably set till the last few minutes of the lecture when you can sneak in like a 007 and slip your ass on to the back bench. The 75% rule made more LBB’s than any of those deadly boring professors.
But sometimes it was unavoidable. You can’t beat the Prof. You can’t beat the room design. And you can’t beat the course content. A tough (fighter in IIT lingo) course and you have to show your dumb sleepy face to the Prof. No chance of proxies. Such tough and hard situations brought the best out of LBB’s and the real Lords showed there character. LBB’s found holding on to there beloved thrones were the men (rarely a lady) of substance and to be looked on with respect.
LBBs sometime preferred a stroll outside. When proxies were easy or the prof was cool about the attendance bullshit. One of our profs was real smart. He took attendance both at the start and end of the class. But the door behind those back benches was his unknown foe. The class which had around 60 students during first and last five minutes had 15 short for rest of the lecture. I told you LBBs sometime preferred a stroll outside.
When asked the reason of being LBB you get to listen all kind of responses. No response is the most common response.
“We back benchers believe in healthy competition. Let the lesser brains learn.”
“Like least distance of distinct vision everyone has a least distance of distinct learning, and in our case it always happens to be the maximum distance from the sources of noise (which by the way are professors).”
“Making notes in class costs a copy and a pen. Getting notes photocopied costs 50 paise per page. Sleeping in class priceless.” This one must be carrying a lot of VISA cards in his pocket.
And it is a fact that without LBBs the number of machines that Xerox sells would fall drastically. LBBs play their part in running the economy.
LBBs are the favorite students of teachers (though they will never admit this fact). LBBs never ask questions and whenever teachers want to look really intelligent and smart, they can simply ask a stupid question to those back benchers.
And from the back benches people learn much more about the lives of people sitting in that room. From observing the dogs that sleep in the lecture halls to the new preferences of the ladies in the class, nothing goes unobserved from those LBBs. Sometimes they also wish to be sitting butt to butt with those rare beauties, but than back benches are not as choosy as the one or two non-males you get in engineering colleges.
Apart from the attendance rule and boring profs there are many reasons we have LBBs. Very obvious being the existence of back benches. Also there are many tasks which are much more important like reading novels, writing, and the best one being playing games and making sketches of the profs. Believe me many talents take birth on those few benches.
All said and done. Back benches rock. Back benchers rule. Hail the lords.
PS: In keeping with the LBB tradition I would like to thank Rohinton Mistry for coining the term, LBB. I really don’t know if he coined the term or he also stole it like me.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
A Fine Balance
“It won’t sell. Someone has to die” replied Sharon when Michael said why it can’t be a happy ending. This is the ‘Basic Instinct’ of creative minds. It has to be sellable!!!
Did you ever think if Jai could have lived last 10 minutes as well, what would have been the fate of Sholay? Why Bruce had to die in Armageddon? Why Sirius and Dumbledore had to die? Do all these deaths make the stories sellable?
The question here is why the person, who gives life to these characters, takes it away so mercilessly. Did they feel the pain a father or mother would feel when they lose their kid?
The very obvious answer could be the need of the story. The bigger, probably better and a holistic view; an author is the creator of the story and not individual characters. It’s the story that is important and the rest happens to bring that story alive. The author gives birth to a story, nourishes it like a parent. It’s a normal parental behaviour to do whatever you could for a bright future of your child. Killing few characters is better than killing Sanjay for Rajiv or attacking Golden Temple for votes. It is no crime. Isn’t it?
Literature helps us exercise compassion for others. Literature helps us learn how to cry for others, be happy for others. ‘Others’ are the lives which we think were created when we were there, the lives which were lived in front of our eyes. Not only literature but any media be it cinema, theatre, TV. The reader/viewer lives those lives and feels the joys and the pains. But there is already enough pain in our day to day lives that we can do with some happy endings. But again there are no happy endings, they are happy in betweens before the end comes. The end separated from the thread. A thread rolled in a circle, confusing the ends for a while.
I guess I am drifting away from what I actually started to write about. A Fine Balance.
Rohinton Mistry. He writes brilliantly and writes truth. But ever since I have finished reading ‘A Fine Balance’ I feel like I have been cheated. Like life has been cheated. I fell in love with the book as I was reading it, as I was living it. The struggles of Dina, the misery of Om and Ishwar and the way Dukhi fought all those odds to give a better life to his next generations and I loved Maneck Kohlah, for his was a heart of gold. Somewhere I could attach my life with the lives that were being lived in those pages. And I also felt attached to Rohinton; he hates Indira Gandhi as much as I do.
“It won’t sell, someone has to die”. I wish Rohinton would have left them struggling with their misery in the first place. Why give hope when all you want to do is take away even the struggle. When all you want is to make a story. Why take a beggar away from the crowds, make him travel in a beautiful carrier, through beautiful plains, hills, and the rivers and over oceans, just to leave him at a place where there is no crowd to even beg from. Why a story has to be sellable?
Don’t know why but somehow the end is always cruel, no matter what is ending or what the end is. May be because it’s the end. When Samwise Gamgee returned after seeing off Frodo Baggins at the Havens, it was a happy ending. But still I felt the pain in Sam’s voice and heart when he said, “I am back”. I guess ‘End’ always sell. But again some Ends sell more than the others.
We live a story and we won’t want our life or our loved ones life to be the one which makes this world sellable. A life which becomes the winning ticket of a politician’s election campaign. A life which gives the news channels 24 hours of news. A life on which a movie like ‘Philadelphia/Phir Milenge’ will be made. A life which will be awarded a ‘Param Vir Chakra’ posthumously. A life which makes a sellable story.
I am all confused right now; don’t know what I should be writing next. How to make the point? There are more buts and whys than I would have liked. I guess I will have to wait till I get someone who is ready to die for my story. Till that time my story will wait. It’s not sellable yet.
Such a long journey and a finely balanced unbalance.
Did you ever think if Jai could have lived last 10 minutes as well, what would have been the fate of Sholay? Why Bruce had to die in Armageddon? Why Sirius and Dumbledore had to die? Do all these deaths make the stories sellable?
The question here is why the person, who gives life to these characters, takes it away so mercilessly. Did they feel the pain a father or mother would feel when they lose their kid?
The very obvious answer could be the need of the story. The bigger, probably better and a holistic view; an author is the creator of the story and not individual characters. It’s the story that is important and the rest happens to bring that story alive. The author gives birth to a story, nourishes it like a parent. It’s a normal parental behaviour to do whatever you could for a bright future of your child. Killing few characters is better than killing Sanjay for Rajiv or attacking Golden Temple for votes. It is no crime. Isn’t it?
Literature helps us exercise compassion for others. Literature helps us learn how to cry for others, be happy for others. ‘Others’ are the lives which we think were created when we were there, the lives which were lived in front of our eyes. Not only literature but any media be it cinema, theatre, TV. The reader/viewer lives those lives and feels the joys and the pains. But there is already enough pain in our day to day lives that we can do with some happy endings. But again there are no happy endings, they are happy in betweens before the end comes. The end separated from the thread. A thread rolled in a circle, confusing the ends for a while.
I guess I am drifting away from what I actually started to write about. A Fine Balance.
Rohinton Mistry. He writes brilliantly and writes truth. But ever since I have finished reading ‘A Fine Balance’ I feel like I have been cheated. Like life has been cheated. I fell in love with the book as I was reading it, as I was living it. The struggles of Dina, the misery of Om and Ishwar and the way Dukhi fought all those odds to give a better life to his next generations and I loved Maneck Kohlah, for his was a heart of gold. Somewhere I could attach my life with the lives that were being lived in those pages. And I also felt attached to Rohinton; he hates Indira Gandhi as much as I do.
“It won’t sell, someone has to die”. I wish Rohinton would have left them struggling with their misery in the first place. Why give hope when all you want to do is take away even the struggle. When all you want is to make a story. Why take a beggar away from the crowds, make him travel in a beautiful carrier, through beautiful plains, hills, and the rivers and over oceans, just to leave him at a place where there is no crowd to even beg from. Why a story has to be sellable?
Don’t know why but somehow the end is always cruel, no matter what is ending or what the end is. May be because it’s the end. When Samwise Gamgee returned after seeing off Frodo Baggins at the Havens, it was a happy ending. But still I felt the pain in Sam’s voice and heart when he said, “I am back”. I guess ‘End’ always sell. But again some Ends sell more than the others.
We live a story and we won’t want our life or our loved ones life to be the one which makes this world sellable. A life which becomes the winning ticket of a politician’s election campaign. A life which gives the news channels 24 hours of news. A life on which a movie like ‘Philadelphia/Phir Milenge’ will be made. A life which will be awarded a ‘Param Vir Chakra’ posthumously. A life which makes a sellable story.
I am all confused right now; don’t know what I should be writing next. How to make the point? There are more buts and whys than I would have liked. I guess I will have to wait till I get someone who is ready to die for my story. Till that time my story will wait. It’s not sellable yet.
Such a long journey and a finely balanced unbalance.
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Sukhdev Singh is milking a buffalo when I call him. We are speaking after a long gap. His voice carries the same cheerful energy I remember....
