0547 hrs: 05 April, 2012
"Will you have your dinner? It's almost 11PM." -- "Not Yet! I am still on a call."
"Work with this. What you asked for is not happening?"
"We need to get this done asap. We are 2 days from the show."
"What's the hold up?"
"It's complicated but doable."
"Sorry, I am on a call for the next 4 hours."
[clamour... clamour... clamour!]
I wake up with a start. The blackberry on my bedside table is blinking and the red flashes irritate my sleepy eyes. My head feels heavy and eyes hurt. My mind has been in run mode all night. It feels as if I never slept and to think of the fact, I hit the sack at 0100 hrs. Argh! What have I become?
The current workload makes the word 'deluge' feel like an atom, if not anything smaller. The new job is now more than five quarters old and the ride has been quite interesting. And it is only getting increasingly busier with the days being packed with action and the nights packed with thought. I am not complaining as I am firm believer of "Be careful of what you wish for." I wished for this and I have to ride the tide and not be hit by the waves as they will keep on coming.
It's time to be back on this channel - for some therapeutic time-off. More later... soon.
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Road Trip to Pilani!
On 13 November at a time well after sunset, I called Arvind (Bala) to catch up with him. We usually speak a few times every month and on that Saturday night with the scotch kicking in, a road trip that I wanted to do for a long time now was surely on my mind. A casual mention about it led Bala to instantly suggest ‘Pilani’ and there it was, we decided to make the trip during 20-22 Nov, 2010.
“Yes dude, it’s a done deal. Yeah, Pilani it is.” This is how we wound up our regular catch up call. “Cheers!”
Through the week that followed, Bala and I made several attempts to reach out to the right folks on campus to ensure we had a good stay. Bala’s email to someone out there drew a blank and me being the ‘phone’ guy, decided to call in to whoever it takes to get started.
I spoke to the Unit Chief (Public Relations), Mr Kashiramka-ji to inquire about the possibility of getting accommodation at the Guest House for two nights. He was very forthcoming but was candid enough to admit that we will not be able to get to stay at the Guest House as about 100 BITSians of the Batch of ’81 were already booked over 20-21 November. They were coming down for their Silver Jubilee Reunion. But that didn’t appear to be so much of a deterrent as I was confident of securing acco at someplace else. We were advised to consider a lodge near Panchvati which went by the name Vatika Nivas that was run by the Birla Trust. The ’81 batch was to leave campus early on Sunday morning so that meant that it was a matter of just one night for us to arrange for alternate acco. It was through Shantanu Bhowmick who was well connected with Pappu that we secured a room at the Alumni House for the first night on campus (20 Nov).
Then I reached out to the current Chief Warden, Dr SK Choudhary. Bala and I wanted to interact with a select group of students from across various batches which we thought was the best way to assess the current state of affairs on campus in comparison to the time we spent on it. The warden was more than willing to get that organized on Sunday (21 Nov) through the good offices of the current President of the Students’ Union. – the day when the ’81 batch was to leave campus.
So with these taken care of, it was all about planning for the trip and the stay at Pilani. Bala and I spoke several times the day prior to our trip to chalk out what we need to carry. The checklist included the route maps, essential supplies (spirits, of course), music for the road trip, smokes, lozenges (as both of us were nursing a cold) and of course, adequate cash (just in case).
Onward Journey
Gurgaon - Rewari - Wilderness - Bypass to Narnaul - Narnaul - Singhana - Chirawa - Pilani
We sailed on NH8 till we had to make the turn off the highway to Rewari. The road was pretty smooth till Rewari post which we hit the trail towards Narnaul – the next town on the ‘perceived best route to take’ as per Bala’s google searches. A badly laid out signboard got us to make the wrong turn as the arrow against ‘Narnaul’ was smudged and this got us into a shanty village with dusty roads laden with cobbled stones. We assumed that it was a small stretch before we hit the highway to Narnaul but that wasn’t to be. We wandered into the wilderness of Haryana for about 20 kms through which we were increasingly convinced that we were headed to nowhere. When we approached another village, we asked a villager about where the road we were on would lead us and he said, “To the Jaipur highway (NH8).”
Oooops! Bala and I exchanged a quick glance and burst out laughing. His counter was that we got to see a bit more of Haryana than we bargained for, while my worry was that we needed to hit the right trail soon enough. After another 10 kms of dust track driving through the fields and more villages, we reached the Narnaul bypass road. Sigh!
Next town per the route map after Narnaul was Singhana and we sure did reach there in quick time as I really gunned the gas. It was already 1600 hrs and we had been on the road for 3.5 hours since we left Gurgaon and I had been on the road since 1030 hrs in the morning. The sense of relief about making it to Pilani before 1700 hrs just went out of the window as the stretch from Singhana to Chirawa was a bloody nightmare. The entire stretch of 28 kms was terrible and we were doing speeds of 20-30 kmph in the 2nd gear for most of the time. Pappu called while I was negotiating the millions of potholes on that stretch to check on where we were. I had told him (earlier in the day) that we would reach by 1600 hrs and here we were enroute to Chirawa at 1630 hrs. Finally at around 1715 hrs, we inched our way to the spot where the turn would lead us to Pilani. The rusty signboard which had Pilani written in Hindi took away all the fatigue of the past 5 hours and Bala and I exchanged a huge Hi-five. We stepped out and had our little big moments getting ourselves clicked against that board.
The final lap to Pilani was a breeze and we made it to campus around 1745 hrs.
Vidya Vihar Campus Gates
For me, it was a very surreal moment to be entering Pilani in my car, while the mind went back to the nervous teenager who went through that gate in a rickshaw way back in August 1993. Bala felt the same way as well. We knew it would feel very weird and strange for us to be negotiating those streets of Vidya Vihar campus in a car during this trip.
First Stop – Nagarji
So excited were we when we entered campus that the first thing on our minds was to go a redi. We were famished as well as we didn’t stop over for lunch (thanks to the lost in the wilderness stretch). We decided to go to Nagarji’s redi and the moment we made the right from VK to the Bank road, I slammed the brakes to come to an abrupt halt. Nagarji was not to be seen and it was only 1800 hrs on our watches. There were about half a dozen motorcycles parked where his redi used to be. The Workshop signage mocked at our frustrated disappointment in all its freshly painted glory. The Insti buildings were all shining in bright splendor against the fading light. Things had changed!
As moments passed by, we saw a motorcyclist add his bike to the line of bikes parked at Nagar’s erstwhile zone. I asked him, “Yeh Nagarji ka redi kidhar hai? Pehle yahan hua karta tha.” He said, “Woh toh ab mess ke peeche hai.”
We got the directions from him though we didn’t need to. We backed up and then went towards VK’s new wing facing the mess and there we found a tall hut-like structure with three counters on the three sides of the square. There were a few students and a few plastic chairs that were spread out in front of the hutment. It did look like a snack joint but Nagarji wasn’t to be seen. We parked and walked towards it only to find Nagarji surface from behind one of the counters with a quizzical look and a broad grin. He did recognize us or so he claimed as we hugged him. He offered his fare for us to sample and we hammered two single sam chats, two chais and one gulab jamun in double quick time. Smoking is banned on campus for students (but we were sure, those who did smoke did it on the sly). But in the fading light, we took our chance and lit up as we waited for the President of the Students’ Union to show up. Yes, I got his number from the Chief Warden and did call him when we reached Nagarji’s snack hut (not redi, anymore).
After paying Rs 37 for our quick snack, we turned our wheels towards Sky. The moment we entered Sky and called out for Pappu, he rushed out like a little boy and came running to hug us. It was a rare moment and I was pleasantly surprised with his burst of joy. Pappu’s fare is still the same – Pattis, Sandwiches, Maggi and Chai apart from Shikanji and the soft drinks. We helped ourselves to our second snack of the evening while Pappu wound up his business for the day at Sky.
Audi
Mr President apprised us about the Psenti Nite that was to happen that night in the Audi and that the commemoration of the ’81 batch will kick start the proceeds for the night. We quickly headed to the Audi and I was super excited to see the Sounds check. A 32-channel Yamaha mixer at the Sounds Console made my day. After a quick walk around, we moved back to Sky. We knew we would return to the Audi when the show was on.
Alumni House
Having committed to Pappu that we will meet him at Kamal Restaurant in C’not around 2000 hrs, we set off for the Alumni House. As we drove past ANC, we were shocked to see that it is not what it used to be. Moreover, the entire playground is now sealed off with a boundary wall which means that one can’t see the tennis courts from the ground level at Bhag/ Ashok. There is now a gate to the grounds next to ANC which is kept locked up post dark. All of ANC is cordoned off with a high wall as well making it very claustrophobic (at least for me). One can’t get a view of any of the surrounding hostels (Shankar/ Gandhi/ Bhag/ Ashok) from ANC.
We drove further down to discover that Akshay Coop was a ‘SuperMarket’ now. It is now a grand big building which houses all supplies across two levels. We were to get back to it the next day to survey the insides.
We checked in at the Alumni House (room #11) and relaxed for a while post which we headed for C’not.
C’not
Man, the first thing that one would notice about C’not these days is a bunch of cars parked on either side of the road, right through the entire length of the ‘strip’. Hardly any bicycles were seen and whatever few that were there were not visible as they were parked between cars. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling all that bad or strange or guilty anymore as my palace on wheels wasn’t the only one around. As we drove through the strip, another thing that caught our eye was the abundance of brand promotions that donned the walls of each shop on either side. Pepsi, Coke, Vodafone, Airtel, Idea and many other brands were all there on display.
We parked at the far end of the strip where Pappu’s Kamal Restaurant still stands. A peek into the restaurant gave us a preview of how things pan out these days at C’not. There was not a single customer in it and the time was around 2030 hrs. Pappu’s younger brother Kalu was ambling around the space in a languid wait for probably his first customers of the evening. And we, in most likelihood, were to be those customers.
Bang opposite on the other corner of the strip stands Vijay Restaurant and next to it, a pale imitation of the Golden Dragon Restaurant. We were happy to see a few students grubbing away at Vijay’s and it appeared that it was someone’s birthday treat to his/ her bunch of close friends/ wingies and their inner circle. So, the students did still dine at C’not – at least some of them did.
We walked around to notice that Atul (another of Pappu’s brothers) converted his STD/PCO coffee/maggi snack joint to a full-fledged store that provides all essential supplies including mobile recharge coupons (for all providers), photocopying services et al. There was not a single chair in front of his store which basically meant that it is not a sit down spot anymore. The Archies store at the corner has expanded length-wise (read deeper) and houses a plethora of gift items, stuffed toys (wonder who buys them on campus), trinkets and of course, cards. There were a couple of students who were checking out the wares in the store. On the other side, the famous MNB joint owned and run by Chintoo still functions the same way. There were a few students and a couple of couples enjoying their respective drinks (coffee and shakes) as we walked past them. I, for the life of me, couldn’t recall Chintoo’s name in all my time there on campus. I kept asking Bala if he remembered but he didn’t either. Strangely enough, the Pilani hangover lingers and Chintoo’s name just popped up in my head as my fingers race past the keyboard as I type this.
The barber shop still exists and the little book store at the corner of this side of the strip does too. Most shops have gone deeper, meaning they expanded inwards (length-wise). And like I mentioned before, the brand POPs overwhelm the place and the curves between the pillars are mostly lost. Being a Saturday evening, we surely were expecting a lot more students to be there at C’not to revel in conversations over coffee and snacks. But then, I thought that maybe this is an aberration as the Psenti Nite was on that night. Sunday evening’s presence of the student glitterati would be a true measure of the change that C’not is currently a victim of.
With that thought, we went to meet Pappu at Kalu’s Kamal Restaurant. It was around 2100 hrs by then and the Lord of the Restaurant business within campus (read Pappu) was there waiting for us. He doesn’t have his famous bunny teeth anymore, by the way. His entire furniture has been removed (a few years ago, by his own admission) and he did indeed show me his pair of false teeth at Sky earlier in the evening when I asked him, “Kya hua?” as I pointed my fingers to my teeth. He was like, “Yeh mere daant hai,” as he pulled out a plastic bag which held his pair of dentures from a lower drawer in his counter cabinet at Sky. He looked supremely happy about the fact that they lay in that plastic bag and he claimed that he didn’t really use them at all. Over the years, he has got used to having all kinds of foods without the help of any teeth of whatever kind, natural or manmade. He said that he even could chew meat with his now hardened gums. Happy for him! Physically, he looks a lot chubbier and healthier (touch wood!), and sports round glasses and has an also zen-like presence from a distance at least. He does still smoke. These days, thanks to the ban on smoking on campus, he smokes Four Square (yeah, the cigarette brand for the unacquainted). When asked why he switched brands from his traditional Navy Cut (another cigarette brand), he explained that he didn’t want to be perceived as someone who sells cigarettes at Sky, and hence Four Square as he believes no self-respecting student (of smokes) will endorse that brand. So no, chhota Gold Flake either, only Four Square.
Coming back to that meeting with Pappu, he smiled as we entered the restaurant and ushered us to the ante room at the far corner where Kalu stored his inventory of soft drinks, mineral water and other such things. No prizes for guessing why he ushered us there. Pappu had been nursing a few beers since evening (which apparently is part of his daily routine) and we had brought along our spirits. Yes, it was all pre-planned. We carried enough to cater to a couple of wings over two nights. Go figure the measure now. :)
So, there we were inside the ante room and Pappu had ordered for the lights to be taken out. We were seated in semi-darkness with some light from the main counter filtering in through the gaps between the cartons and the metallic mesh that were the walls of the ante room. The scotch flowed and so did the conversation. Pappu went into a super retro mood and he reminisced about the batches of the late ‘70s, the ‘80s and the early ‘90s. He threw in a few names to good measure and one of them that stood out was Anu Hassan (Kamal Hassan’s cousin/ niece). He did remember us as a batch but we had to give him a visual description of each person while we spoke about our times on campus. He mentioned that he remembered faces better than names and I, for sure, related to that. I am not very good with names either and I do remember from my time on campus that I would be very frequently embarrassed for not being to recall the name of the person who said Hi to me. It still is an issue at my end to this day. Unless the threshold for a minimum number of interactions is not crossed, I would not remember the name.
But for Pappu, his ‘hisaab’ (book of accounts) related to the personality and the person and not really the name. This was a fact that was ratified by Kalu who kept dropping by the ante room to check if we needed anything else to keep the session going. Kalu and Atul used to at times fill in for Pappu at Sky and would manage the counter there. But according to Kalu, they could never relay back the ‘hisaab’ for X or Y against the nomenclature Pappu had for that X or Y. And there goes the hisaab out of the window.
The BM (Baad mein) concept does not exist anymore, anywhere. Everything has become very transactional. You want a ‘patti’, you pay for it at the time to take it from the counter. A few others that we spoke over the next day as well had the same view and earlier in the evening, Nagarji also had the same view. “Zyaada BM nahi chalta hai aaj kal,” is what Nagarji had to say.
Per Pappu, the warmth is missing. There is no connect that he sees across the board and we have no choice to believe him. This was coming from the man who is an institution himself. Just like you can’t take the redis out of campus, you can’t take Pappu out of Sky (at the very least). Think Sky, and you’d see Pappu in front of you wherever you are now as you read this bit (I can bet on it). I wonder if he has been invited for the BITSAA Global Meet 2011 in January next year. Apparently, he was invited for some BITSAA event in Mumbai a year or so ago and he was asked to address the audience. VS Rao had invited him on to the stage but apparently, our man was so buzzed after a few beers that he could only manage a humble ‘Thank You’. Such is the simplicity of the guy but he is also a shrewd businessman as we all know. Yes, we made sure we paid our dues in cash for all his hospitality and time – just in case you were wondering about it being the other way.
Psenti Nite
Around 2230 hrs, we headed to the Audi from C’not to be part of the final few minutes of the Psenti nite. We managed to get a few pictures of the performers on stage and also of the back rooms of backstage. The green room was a haven for random graffiti and even the mirrors were not spared. The floor of the green room was filled with weirdly twisted iron rods that were probably the rejects from a twisted construction or a renovation project. Net, the green room was no longer operational for use. Or maybe, it was an after-effect of Oasis. I will come to that later.
We were privy to a few songs and we sure were buzzed in the heads. All I was clued on to was about Sounds. The mixing was done slickly and there was no feedback. I even walked up to the stage and was glad to note that the monitors were crystal clear. There were three guitarists playing at the same time and the sound clarity was just fine. I noticed at least 3 students play the drums for different songs. There was also a female lead vocalist who ended up playing the drums for a song titled ‘Goodbye’.
Down on the floor, there were just about 100 students who were swaying to the music being played. . And no one that was there appeared to sway due to ‘high spirits’. Honestly, I don’t remember what they were playing but whatever they were, it sounded good. It definitely wasn’t the kind of music we were used to in the Western section. In our times, we had the Indian section and then we had the Western section but in these times, the songs played out are an assortment of sorts in random order. Moreover, there were only 20-odd songs that were sung during the entire show. More shocking was the fact that barring a few scattered clusters of 4-5 people across the first few (4-5) rows, the rest of the Audi was empty and that despite not having separate sections for Indian and Western music. And that too on Psenti nite. Go figure!
Next Stop – ANC
‘A Noisy Courtyard’ is my new expansion for ANC. This favorite hotspot of our times is now a claustrophobic, concrete-floored, three counter, fixed seating (for about 30-40 at best), fully walled, run by the Insti… place of cacophony. I am sure each of you reading this remember the noisy chirps of the birds that have returned home at dusk to the various trees that surround our hostels and the insti buildings. Just replace that birdie chirps with the din of about 150 people standing in a place meant for maybe 50 – all chatting away. One can no longer take any plate of maggi or a cup of chai outside the zone to relax on the tennis courts or wherever else on the playground. Yes, it remains locked for a better part of the day and night.
We got to seat ourselves with Mr President and his few good men from the 3rd year. We kept the conversation light and sneaked in a round of drinks to the fellows from under the table. What else can it be, I say… scotch + water. The buzz got fuzzier as the conversation flowed along the lines of “how was it during your (as in our) times?” We let it rip! From the days of absolute freedom to these days of obtaining permission in writing from the wardens to leave campus, student life has come a long way but I am not sure in which direction. Yes, we were talking to the so-called elite cross-section of the junta at large and we want to give the benefit of doubt that all was still more or less the same on campus. But the more we saw, the more we were convinced that we can’t relate to life on campus as it were.
I went back to the Alumni House to procure the refill while Bala was politely escorted to Krishna which is now also the jaunt of 3rd year-ites. Oh jeez, I forgot to mention this part. SV & KG are no longer exclusive 1st and 2nd year hostels and neither are Bhag & VK exclusive 3rd year hostels. There are 3rd year students in Mal as well. The classification these days is by relevance of branches of study which basically means that since EEE (A3) and Instru (A8) go together, they stay together across batches. Similarly, CS (A7) and Information Systems (C6) go together. Now don’t ask me about the dual degree fellows. They are parked in random order based on the luck of the draw. So there it is – the masala mix called the Student Life on VV Campus.
We spent a few more hours at Krishna with guys who were jamming and smoking up and of course indulging in higher spirits till almost 0500 hrs. Then we dropped off the percussionist from Mizoram (some 0XX ID pursuing A7) at Mal and another straight degree B5 guy at Budh. The latter didn’t opt for a dual as he didn’t get what he wanted as a dual. CG was at some six point something. Nice! A bulk of the conversation also had us (Bala and me) exchange furtive looks quite frequently. Some questions were:
1. What will happen to us post our days on campus? We have really low CGs for the kind of disciplines we signed up for. (Most were A7, A8, A3 chaps).
2. Will we get jobs? [Of course you would. I did and I was a C4 student. For your pedigree, the world has more room.]
3. How promiscuous were BITSians in your time? [Well, we all were highly promiscuous but in the *^&*ing head.]
4. How did you guys intimate each other about meetings and interactions when you didn’t have mobile phones? [Well, we walked or biked around or passed the word around or simply put, we *&*^ing planned better. :)]
... and many such 'interesting' questions.
Overall, it was great to feel like a student again and like I mentioned in an earlier FB status message, we were thrilled that no one called us ‘Uncles’. In fact, some of them did say that we could pass off as current students which was hugely gratifying to note.
The current lot that we interacted with was equally chilled out if not more, a lot more adventurous than we ever probably were (as a majority), some were outwardly audacious in a good way and more importantly, they know deep down that they are there where they belong. It is just a matter of time when the true value of being a BITSian is realized. But as far as Bala and I were concerned, I don’t think we ever worried about ‘what will be’ in our 3rd year. Once a BITSian, always a BITSian – and Nothing Else Matters!
0530 hrs, 21 November, Room #11, Alumni House… Lights out!
The Morning After
I woke up bright and early at 0800 hrs despite the stretch of the previous day. I was hungry and needed to have a good breakfast before we unleash ourselves on campus to soak in as much as we can during the only full day we would have on campus. Bala was all curled up in his quilt and was peacefully sleeping. I decided to wake him to check if he was keen on breaker but as expected, he chose to sleep on for a while longer.
I walked down to the dining area at the Alumni House to find Kailash who was the resident caretaker of the guests. The hall was empty and the long table was devoid of anything. He was busy working something up in the adjoining kitchen. I opted for corn flakes, a jumbo egg-white omelette, two slices of toasted white bread and tea. Post breaker, I ambled back to the room only to find Bala still sleeping like a baby. At around 0930 hrs, our man woke up while I decided to slip back into bed for a short snooze while he got ready to head out.
At 1030 hrs, we hit the trail to C’not to buy smokes (yes, they don’t allow students to smoke on campus but ironically, they allow the shopkeepers to sell cigarettes) and subsequently, we went straight to Sky where Bala helped himself to a breakfast of Pappu’s cheese sandwiches over double-chai. The Sky lawns were littered with all sorts of things including paper plates, wrappers, etc but the weather was perfect. We basked under the warm winter sun for a while and we reminisced about our times on campus. Everything seemed like yesterday. Time indeed does fly but we were glad we made it to campus before we looked too old or felt too old.
Then we decided to go to the Museum but unfortunately, it was closed that day as it was Gurpurab (Guru Nanak’s birthday). I had never been to the Museum during my time on campus and here was another forced miss. We couldn’t have done it the next day, as the Museum’s weekly shutdown day is Monday. So there is definitely another trip to campus in the offing for me.
Then we walked past Malviya Bhavan to check out the Student Activity Center which has come up next to Mal, which houses the now famous ‘Food King’ joint run by our very own Sharath Babu (BITS, IIM-A). As we approached it, Bala spotted Ghanshyam, one of the mess workers in the RB (Ram-Budh) mess. I recognized him too and he was a plumper version of his old ’93-’94 self.
What was RBM mess is now RB mess with Mal having it own mess given the fact that the original Mal Bhavan is called Mal A and on the side, Mal B and Mal C have come up. Mal A was converted to be the girl’s hostel a few years ago for probably a couple of seasons as the then count of the ladies was over 2,000. Now the ratio is back to what is was during our time and the ladies are all now back in the original Meera Bhavan.
Well, Ghanshyam told us that SAC opens only in the evening much to our progressive disappointment. So we walked into Mal A to visit the wing where I had my taste of ethanol (New Wing upstairs facing Sky), while Bala wanted to visit his room in the Pi wing (upstairs facing BVP). The time now was 1240 hrs and we decided to get to RB mess for lunch. While I wanted to go to RPA mess, Bala’s heart was with RB mess as he ate there for four of his five years on campus.
RB Mess
As we walked in, we noticed a desktop computer on the mess manager’s counter. Next to his counter were two tall fridges which stored all kinds of soft drinks including the aerated ones and the fruit juices. In front was a contraption which looked like a chaat station but it was actually a counter for self service. The drill these days is that one picks up the plate and walks to this self service station where one mess worker serves you a portion each of dal and subzi or whatever else that is going. Then you help yourself to the rest (curd, fried potatoes, etc) which are all handed out by a couple of other mess workers. The rotis are all there in one large casserole and you can help yourself to as many as you like. Then you look for a spot to park and start grubbing. I didn’t quite notice the drill for procuring water as it was served to us, for the mess manager had Ghanshyam on our case. The only thing that was on the table was the bowl of pulao (Sunday special). Our lunch comprised of mutter paneer, yellow daal, fried potato chips (which were super spicy and over-salted), a bowl of curd, pulao and a few rotis. The taste of the food is still the same which made us grin. I can’t describe the priceless feeling of having mess grub. It is beyond words.
Post lunch, we said our goodbyes to the mess manager, Ghanshyam and Bachcha Singh-ji and walked back to Sky.
1400 hrs – Still no students at Sky. We decided to get back to the Alumni House to pack up and head to the Guest House. The ’81 Batch guys and their families had left that morning. When we reached the Alumni House, Kailash told us that the Guest House is currently being cleaned up and we should head there around 1600 hrs. So there it was for us – a forced siesta which actually did us good.
We moved our stuff to the Guest House which is now called VFAST (Visiting Faculty and Students’ Hostel). I just got the expansion from a 3rd year A3 student in the form of reply to my text message. It is the same Laxminarayan Guest House which now has an extended block.
1700 hrs – Back at Sky and in wait for the student interaction that we asked for. Mr President was to organize this at our behest and we were really excited about meeting a cross-section of students from all batches.
1740 hrs – Still no sign of the students and a few calls to Mr President and Mr Gen Secretary went unanswered. Maybe the hangover of the previous night was still lingering, or so we thought and gave up on any further interactions with students. We then checked with Pappu on his evening schedule and we headed to the Temple but not before we drove around.
Saraswathi Temple
A visit to the Saraswathi Temple is a must. There is a new statue of GD Birla-ji bang on the opposite side of the road in front of the Temple. We parked on Temple Road, a few yards away from the entrance of the Temple. We walked in and the usual spot took off our shoes and made our way up the stairs. There were a few students sitting on the steps that take us to the main altar. The last time I walked up there, I was obviously in serious prayer mode invoking the Goddess to grant me a few good grades as the Compres were coming up. This time around, there was a sense of gratitude and peace and I surely was counting my blessings for all the experiences I have been through since the time I stepped out with a Degree in tow. I stood there admiring the idol of the Goddess while the thoughts of those days on campus raced past yet again. And then, the priest got on to performing the ‘aarti’ as his aide blew the conch. I am sure Bala had his own thoughts to deal with. We then took the traditional walk around the Temple. The cold marble floor under our feet notwithstanding, we tried our best to avoid as many pigeon droppings as was possible in the dark. Another timeless fact about campus that will never change! We then sat on the steps of the Temple as is the tradition, and looked on admirably at the Insti building.
As far as women were concerned, I noticed the maximum number of women at one place during all our time on campus at the Temple. Maybe it was about the Compres which are around the corner or maybe it is just that most of them are from the traditional bastions of South India or maybe it was something else…
Gate Calls
From what we noticed, Gate Calls to the women at Meera Bhavan are a lost cause, at least in the most part. The only thing that probably hasn’t changed is that the guys still see off their women at the gates of MB when it is time for the forced breakup at 2300 hrs before sunrise the next morning. In these days of mobile and internet connectivity, I am sure the respective genders text each other or ping each other over IM to decide on the rendezvous time and place. Coming to think of it, it actually saves time though quite not the expense factor. But from what I know and still do believe, the women must still be excited about receiving a gate call which has a special feel to the experience. But I am not the best one to judge that specialness as I hardly experienced that side of life on campus. Bala might want to take this up a little more seriously for the benefit and clamor of all those who wanted to know.
Dinner, Drinks & Random Talk
Being on campus for a little over 24 hours pretty much got us all soaked in with all the BITSian-ness that we needed. At the cost of being repetitive, we were thrilled to have made it to campus. We drove to C’not to meet Pappu at his restaurant for another evening of indulgence. We sat in the corner room and while we sipped our scotch, Pappu nursed his beer. The evening wound up at around 2245 hrs after we feasted on some chicken curry, naans, rice and curd.
Right through the evening, we talked about those we knew around campus during our times and Pappu added his own masala with his stories of how much fun he had running his business at Sky in those days compared to the current times.
Weary, buzzed and sleepy, Arvind and I made our way to the Guest House but after a while a couple of students dropped by for another ‘lachcha’ session. And we got chatting again, trying our best to assuage the concerns of these 3rd year-ites that life goes a long way beyond CGPAs. Bala had his B5-A4 and then IIM-L experiences to recant while I spoke about my experiences on campus and how brand BITS stays with each of us for the rest of time. Some more spirits flowed as we chatted away.
Most of the guys we met seemed to have girlfriends and believe it or not, BITSians these days are quite adventurous. I remember, during our times, a rendezvous out of campus would mean a trip to Khetri or some nearby retreat like the Midway Hotel, if it was to be a short trip of sorts. The longer trips would mean a rafting expedition, or a trip to Auli or maybe a trip to the dunes of the Thar Desert around Jaisalmer/ Udaipur. These days, destinations of choice are McLeodgunj or Pushkar, to experience the ‘hippie’ side of life. Believe it!!! Like I mentioned earlier, these choices were of the tiny cross-section of BITSian that we interacted with and might not be a true representation of the overall student community. But that said, we learnt a lot more ‘life on campus’. Relationships on campus are no longer about walking around all evening from sunset to almost 2300 hrs. Life and relationships are more existential, experimental and of course, more exhilarating and exciting. We also ‘heard’ about a couple of instances where women have entered the well-guarded and almost completely grilled bhavans to spend time in their boyfriends’ rooms. I am not sure how much of that is true but it sure sounded very believable. The question about ‘promiscuity’ just ran through my head yet again and again and again.
Compared to our times, many more students are hooked to the real side of campus life related to their indulgences. With getting specific (about which I am sure each of you are well aware of), students get hooked to these right on from the very first semester on campus. Average out-of-pocket expenses of students have also gone up (~Rs 4-8K depending on one’s indulgences) and so have the average mess bills (~Rs 3-4K a month including extras). Everything adds up right from your outstation trips to hotel room charges to mobile recharges to simply having a good time with buddies over jam sessions and drinks. But who cares, as long as Daddies and Mommies are paying up.
So, there it was… the continued reinforcement that the younger lot were having a ball on campus but in a very different way, from what we did. We planned for an early start the next morning so we had to wind up at around 0300 hrs but only after gifting away the remaining scotch we carried. And it was lapped up with broad buzzed grins.
Next Morning
I woke up at 0800 hrs and decided to get through with my ablutions at the soonest before I woke up Bala. We promised a ride to one of the students who wanted to go to Delhi for a couple of days to meet with his friend. We had also promised Pappu that we will bid him goodbye before we embark on our return journey. So by 0945 hrs, we breezed through breaker at the Guest House, tipped our hosts and made our way to Sky.
But yes, we had to do one more thing before we set sail… which was to buy the memorabilia – Tees and Sweat Shirts. While I parked in front of Ram’s new wing facing the S-block, Bala had made his way to the BITSAA store in the same block. We quickly checked out the wares and picked up a few tees including the all-time favorite, 333031 one. Bala was a tad disappointed as the sweatshirt that he wanted (BITS Pilani, Estd 1964) wasn’t available in his preferred XXL size while I managed an XL for myself.
We then had our double chai at Sky, bid our farewell to Pappu and hit the trail back to Delhi. This time around, it was:
Pilani – Loharu – Satnali – Mahendragarh – Rewari – Gurgaon with two stopovers. One for ‘Child Beer’ and other to drop Bala at his pad in Gurgaon.
It was a trip that will remain etched in our cumulative memories for the rest of time and I am sure we will make a few more back to VV campus in the not-so-far future.
I hope each of you who read this could rewind your mind to the times you spent on campus. Regardless of where we ended up getting to post our days at Pilani, campus was the place where I firmly believe, we walked in as ‘boys and girls’ and walked out as ‘men and women’.
Long live the tradition! ‘Gyaanam Paramam Balam.’
“Yes dude, it’s a done deal. Yeah, Pilani it is.” This is how we wound up our regular catch up call. “Cheers!”
Through the week that followed, Bala and I made several attempts to reach out to the right folks on campus to ensure we had a good stay. Bala’s email to someone out there drew a blank and me being the ‘phone’ guy, decided to call in to whoever it takes to get started.
I spoke to the Unit Chief (Public Relations), Mr Kashiramka-ji to inquire about the possibility of getting accommodation at the Guest House for two nights. He was very forthcoming but was candid enough to admit that we will not be able to get to stay at the Guest House as about 100 BITSians of the Batch of ’81 were already booked over 20-21 November. They were coming down for their Silver Jubilee Reunion. But that didn’t appear to be so much of a deterrent as I was confident of securing acco at someplace else. We were advised to consider a lodge near Panchvati which went by the name Vatika Nivas that was run by the Birla Trust. The ’81 batch was to leave campus early on Sunday morning so that meant that it was a matter of just one night for us to arrange for alternate acco. It was through Shantanu Bhowmick who was well connected with Pappu that we secured a room at the Alumni House for the first night on campus (20 Nov).
Then I reached out to the current Chief Warden, Dr SK Choudhary. Bala and I wanted to interact with a select group of students from across various batches which we thought was the best way to assess the current state of affairs on campus in comparison to the time we spent on it. The warden was more than willing to get that organized on Sunday (21 Nov) through the good offices of the current President of the Students’ Union. – the day when the ’81 batch was to leave campus.
So with these taken care of, it was all about planning for the trip and the stay at Pilani. Bala and I spoke several times the day prior to our trip to chalk out what we need to carry. The checklist included the route maps, essential supplies (spirits, of course), music for the road trip, smokes, lozenges (as both of us were nursing a cold) and of course, adequate cash (just in case).
Onward Journey
Gurgaon - Rewari - Wilderness - Bypass to Narnaul - Narnaul - Singhana - Chirawa - Pilani
We sailed on NH8 till we had to make the turn off the highway to Rewari. The road was pretty smooth till Rewari post which we hit the trail towards Narnaul – the next town on the ‘perceived best route to take’ as per Bala’s google searches. A badly laid out signboard got us to make the wrong turn as the arrow against ‘Narnaul’ was smudged and this got us into a shanty village with dusty roads laden with cobbled stones. We assumed that it was a small stretch before we hit the highway to Narnaul but that wasn’t to be. We wandered into the wilderness of Haryana for about 20 kms through which we were increasingly convinced that we were headed to nowhere. When we approached another village, we asked a villager about where the road we were on would lead us and he said, “To the Jaipur highway (NH8).”
Oooops! Bala and I exchanged a quick glance and burst out laughing. His counter was that we got to see a bit more of Haryana than we bargained for, while my worry was that we needed to hit the right trail soon enough. After another 10 kms of dust track driving through the fields and more villages, we reached the Narnaul bypass road. Sigh!
Next town per the route map after Narnaul was Singhana and we sure did reach there in quick time as I really gunned the gas. It was already 1600 hrs and we had been on the road for 3.5 hours since we left Gurgaon and I had been on the road since 1030 hrs in the morning. The sense of relief about making it to Pilani before 1700 hrs just went out of the window as the stretch from Singhana to Chirawa was a bloody nightmare. The entire stretch of 28 kms was terrible and we were doing speeds of 20-30 kmph in the 2nd gear for most of the time. Pappu called while I was negotiating the millions of potholes on that stretch to check on where we were. I had told him (earlier in the day) that we would reach by 1600 hrs and here we were enroute to Chirawa at 1630 hrs. Finally at around 1715 hrs, we inched our way to the spot where the turn would lead us to Pilani. The rusty signboard which had Pilani written in Hindi took away all the fatigue of the past 5 hours and Bala and I exchanged a huge Hi-five. We stepped out and had our little big moments getting ourselves clicked against that board.
The final lap to Pilani was a breeze and we made it to campus around 1745 hrs.
Vidya Vihar Campus Gates
For me, it was a very surreal moment to be entering Pilani in my car, while the mind went back to the nervous teenager who went through that gate in a rickshaw way back in August 1993. Bala felt the same way as well. We knew it would feel very weird and strange for us to be negotiating those streets of Vidya Vihar campus in a car during this trip.
First Stop – Nagarji
So excited were we when we entered campus that the first thing on our minds was to go a redi. We were famished as well as we didn’t stop over for lunch (thanks to the lost in the wilderness stretch). We decided to go to Nagarji’s redi and the moment we made the right from VK to the Bank road, I slammed the brakes to come to an abrupt halt. Nagarji was not to be seen and it was only 1800 hrs on our watches. There were about half a dozen motorcycles parked where his redi used to be. The Workshop signage mocked at our frustrated disappointment in all its freshly painted glory. The Insti buildings were all shining in bright splendor against the fading light. Things had changed!
As moments passed by, we saw a motorcyclist add his bike to the line of bikes parked at Nagar’s erstwhile zone. I asked him, “Yeh Nagarji ka redi kidhar hai? Pehle yahan hua karta tha.” He said, “Woh toh ab mess ke peeche hai.”
We got the directions from him though we didn’t need to. We backed up and then went towards VK’s new wing facing the mess and there we found a tall hut-like structure with three counters on the three sides of the square. There were a few students and a few plastic chairs that were spread out in front of the hutment. It did look like a snack joint but Nagarji wasn’t to be seen. We parked and walked towards it only to find Nagarji surface from behind one of the counters with a quizzical look and a broad grin. He did recognize us or so he claimed as we hugged him. He offered his fare for us to sample and we hammered two single sam chats, two chais and one gulab jamun in double quick time. Smoking is banned on campus for students (but we were sure, those who did smoke did it on the sly). But in the fading light, we took our chance and lit up as we waited for the President of the Students’ Union to show up. Yes, I got his number from the Chief Warden and did call him when we reached Nagarji’s snack hut (not redi, anymore).
After paying Rs 37 for our quick snack, we turned our wheels towards Sky. The moment we entered Sky and called out for Pappu, he rushed out like a little boy and came running to hug us. It was a rare moment and I was pleasantly surprised with his burst of joy. Pappu’s fare is still the same – Pattis, Sandwiches, Maggi and Chai apart from Shikanji and the soft drinks. We helped ourselves to our second snack of the evening while Pappu wound up his business for the day at Sky.
Audi
Mr President apprised us about the Psenti Nite that was to happen that night in the Audi and that the commemoration of the ’81 batch will kick start the proceeds for the night. We quickly headed to the Audi and I was super excited to see the Sounds check. A 32-channel Yamaha mixer at the Sounds Console made my day. After a quick walk around, we moved back to Sky. We knew we would return to the Audi when the show was on.
Alumni House
Having committed to Pappu that we will meet him at Kamal Restaurant in C’not around 2000 hrs, we set off for the Alumni House. As we drove past ANC, we were shocked to see that it is not what it used to be. Moreover, the entire playground is now sealed off with a boundary wall which means that one can’t see the tennis courts from the ground level at Bhag/ Ashok. There is now a gate to the grounds next to ANC which is kept locked up post dark. All of ANC is cordoned off with a high wall as well making it very claustrophobic (at least for me). One can’t get a view of any of the surrounding hostels (Shankar/ Gandhi/ Bhag/ Ashok) from ANC.
We drove further down to discover that Akshay Coop was a ‘SuperMarket’ now. It is now a grand big building which houses all supplies across two levels. We were to get back to it the next day to survey the insides.
We checked in at the Alumni House (room #11) and relaxed for a while post which we headed for C’not.
C’not
Man, the first thing that one would notice about C’not these days is a bunch of cars parked on either side of the road, right through the entire length of the ‘strip’. Hardly any bicycles were seen and whatever few that were there were not visible as they were parked between cars. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling all that bad or strange or guilty anymore as my palace on wheels wasn’t the only one around. As we drove through the strip, another thing that caught our eye was the abundance of brand promotions that donned the walls of each shop on either side. Pepsi, Coke, Vodafone, Airtel, Idea and many other brands were all there on display.
We parked at the far end of the strip where Pappu’s Kamal Restaurant still stands. A peek into the restaurant gave us a preview of how things pan out these days at C’not. There was not a single customer in it and the time was around 2030 hrs. Pappu’s younger brother Kalu was ambling around the space in a languid wait for probably his first customers of the evening. And we, in most likelihood, were to be those customers.
Bang opposite on the other corner of the strip stands Vijay Restaurant and next to it, a pale imitation of the Golden Dragon Restaurant. We were happy to see a few students grubbing away at Vijay’s and it appeared that it was someone’s birthday treat to his/ her bunch of close friends/ wingies and their inner circle. So, the students did still dine at C’not – at least some of them did.
We walked around to notice that Atul (another of Pappu’s brothers) converted his STD/PCO coffee/maggi snack joint to a full-fledged store that provides all essential supplies including mobile recharge coupons (for all providers), photocopying services et al. There was not a single chair in front of his store which basically meant that it is not a sit down spot anymore. The Archies store at the corner has expanded length-wise (read deeper) and houses a plethora of gift items, stuffed toys (wonder who buys them on campus), trinkets and of course, cards. There were a couple of students who were checking out the wares in the store. On the other side, the famous MNB joint owned and run by Chintoo still functions the same way. There were a few students and a couple of couples enjoying their respective drinks (coffee and shakes) as we walked past them. I, for the life of me, couldn’t recall Chintoo’s name in all my time there on campus. I kept asking Bala if he remembered but he didn’t either. Strangely enough, the Pilani hangover lingers and Chintoo’s name just popped up in my head as my fingers race past the keyboard as I type this.
The barber shop still exists and the little book store at the corner of this side of the strip does too. Most shops have gone deeper, meaning they expanded inwards (length-wise). And like I mentioned before, the brand POPs overwhelm the place and the curves between the pillars are mostly lost. Being a Saturday evening, we surely were expecting a lot more students to be there at C’not to revel in conversations over coffee and snacks. But then, I thought that maybe this is an aberration as the Psenti Nite was on that night. Sunday evening’s presence of the student glitterati would be a true measure of the change that C’not is currently a victim of.
With that thought, we went to meet Pappu at Kalu’s Kamal Restaurant. It was around 2100 hrs by then and the Lord of the Restaurant business within campus (read Pappu) was there waiting for us. He doesn’t have his famous bunny teeth anymore, by the way. His entire furniture has been removed (a few years ago, by his own admission) and he did indeed show me his pair of false teeth at Sky earlier in the evening when I asked him, “Kya hua?” as I pointed my fingers to my teeth. He was like, “Yeh mere daant hai,” as he pulled out a plastic bag which held his pair of dentures from a lower drawer in his counter cabinet at Sky. He looked supremely happy about the fact that they lay in that plastic bag and he claimed that he didn’t really use them at all. Over the years, he has got used to having all kinds of foods without the help of any teeth of whatever kind, natural or manmade. He said that he even could chew meat with his now hardened gums. Happy for him! Physically, he looks a lot chubbier and healthier (touch wood!), and sports round glasses and has an also zen-like presence from a distance at least. He does still smoke. These days, thanks to the ban on smoking on campus, he smokes Four Square (yeah, the cigarette brand for the unacquainted). When asked why he switched brands from his traditional Navy Cut (another cigarette brand), he explained that he didn’t want to be perceived as someone who sells cigarettes at Sky, and hence Four Square as he believes no self-respecting student (of smokes) will endorse that brand. So no, chhota Gold Flake either, only Four Square.
Coming back to that meeting with Pappu, he smiled as we entered the restaurant and ushered us to the ante room at the far corner where Kalu stored his inventory of soft drinks, mineral water and other such things. No prizes for guessing why he ushered us there. Pappu had been nursing a few beers since evening (which apparently is part of his daily routine) and we had brought along our spirits. Yes, it was all pre-planned. We carried enough to cater to a couple of wings over two nights. Go figure the measure now. :)
So, there we were inside the ante room and Pappu had ordered for the lights to be taken out. We were seated in semi-darkness with some light from the main counter filtering in through the gaps between the cartons and the metallic mesh that were the walls of the ante room. The scotch flowed and so did the conversation. Pappu went into a super retro mood and he reminisced about the batches of the late ‘70s, the ‘80s and the early ‘90s. He threw in a few names to good measure and one of them that stood out was Anu Hassan (Kamal Hassan’s cousin/ niece). He did remember us as a batch but we had to give him a visual description of each person while we spoke about our times on campus. He mentioned that he remembered faces better than names and I, for sure, related to that. I am not very good with names either and I do remember from my time on campus that I would be very frequently embarrassed for not being to recall the name of the person who said Hi to me. It still is an issue at my end to this day. Unless the threshold for a minimum number of interactions is not crossed, I would not remember the name.
But for Pappu, his ‘hisaab’ (book of accounts) related to the personality and the person and not really the name. This was a fact that was ratified by Kalu who kept dropping by the ante room to check if we needed anything else to keep the session going. Kalu and Atul used to at times fill in for Pappu at Sky and would manage the counter there. But according to Kalu, they could never relay back the ‘hisaab’ for X or Y against the nomenclature Pappu had for that X or Y. And there goes the hisaab out of the window.
The BM (Baad mein) concept does not exist anymore, anywhere. Everything has become very transactional. You want a ‘patti’, you pay for it at the time to take it from the counter. A few others that we spoke over the next day as well had the same view and earlier in the evening, Nagarji also had the same view. “Zyaada BM nahi chalta hai aaj kal,” is what Nagarji had to say.
Per Pappu, the warmth is missing. There is no connect that he sees across the board and we have no choice to believe him. This was coming from the man who is an institution himself. Just like you can’t take the redis out of campus, you can’t take Pappu out of Sky (at the very least). Think Sky, and you’d see Pappu in front of you wherever you are now as you read this bit (I can bet on it). I wonder if he has been invited for the BITSAA Global Meet 2011 in January next year. Apparently, he was invited for some BITSAA event in Mumbai a year or so ago and he was asked to address the audience. VS Rao had invited him on to the stage but apparently, our man was so buzzed after a few beers that he could only manage a humble ‘Thank You’. Such is the simplicity of the guy but he is also a shrewd businessman as we all know. Yes, we made sure we paid our dues in cash for all his hospitality and time – just in case you were wondering about it being the other way.
Psenti Nite
Around 2230 hrs, we headed to the Audi from C’not to be part of the final few minutes of the Psenti nite. We managed to get a few pictures of the performers on stage and also of the back rooms of backstage. The green room was a haven for random graffiti and even the mirrors were not spared. The floor of the green room was filled with weirdly twisted iron rods that were probably the rejects from a twisted construction or a renovation project. Net, the green room was no longer operational for use. Or maybe, it was an after-effect of Oasis. I will come to that later.
We were privy to a few songs and we sure were buzzed in the heads. All I was clued on to was about Sounds. The mixing was done slickly and there was no feedback. I even walked up to the stage and was glad to note that the monitors were crystal clear. There were three guitarists playing at the same time and the sound clarity was just fine. I noticed at least 3 students play the drums for different songs. There was also a female lead vocalist who ended up playing the drums for a song titled ‘Goodbye’.
Down on the floor, there were just about 100 students who were swaying to the music being played. . And no one that was there appeared to sway due to ‘high spirits’. Honestly, I don’t remember what they were playing but whatever they were, it sounded good. It definitely wasn’t the kind of music we were used to in the Western section. In our times, we had the Indian section and then we had the Western section but in these times, the songs played out are an assortment of sorts in random order. Moreover, there were only 20-odd songs that were sung during the entire show. More shocking was the fact that barring a few scattered clusters of 4-5 people across the first few (4-5) rows, the rest of the Audi was empty and that despite not having separate sections for Indian and Western music. And that too on Psenti nite. Go figure!
Next Stop – ANC
‘A Noisy Courtyard’ is my new expansion for ANC. This favorite hotspot of our times is now a claustrophobic, concrete-floored, three counter, fixed seating (for about 30-40 at best), fully walled, run by the Insti… place of cacophony. I am sure each of you reading this remember the noisy chirps of the birds that have returned home at dusk to the various trees that surround our hostels and the insti buildings. Just replace that birdie chirps with the din of about 150 people standing in a place meant for maybe 50 – all chatting away. One can no longer take any plate of maggi or a cup of chai outside the zone to relax on the tennis courts or wherever else on the playground. Yes, it remains locked for a better part of the day and night.
We got to seat ourselves with Mr President and his few good men from the 3rd year. We kept the conversation light and sneaked in a round of drinks to the fellows from under the table. What else can it be, I say… scotch + water. The buzz got fuzzier as the conversation flowed along the lines of “how was it during your (as in our) times?” We let it rip! From the days of absolute freedom to these days of obtaining permission in writing from the wardens to leave campus, student life has come a long way but I am not sure in which direction. Yes, we were talking to the so-called elite cross-section of the junta at large and we want to give the benefit of doubt that all was still more or less the same on campus. But the more we saw, the more we were convinced that we can’t relate to life on campus as it were.
I went back to the Alumni House to procure the refill while Bala was politely escorted to Krishna which is now also the jaunt of 3rd year-ites. Oh jeez, I forgot to mention this part. SV & KG are no longer exclusive 1st and 2nd year hostels and neither are Bhag & VK exclusive 3rd year hostels. There are 3rd year students in Mal as well. The classification these days is by relevance of branches of study which basically means that since EEE (A3) and Instru (A8) go together, they stay together across batches. Similarly, CS (A7) and Information Systems (C6) go together. Now don’t ask me about the dual degree fellows. They are parked in random order based on the luck of the draw. So there it is – the masala mix called the Student Life on VV Campus.
We spent a few more hours at Krishna with guys who were jamming and smoking up and of course indulging in higher spirits till almost 0500 hrs. Then we dropped off the percussionist from Mizoram (some 0XX ID pursuing A7) at Mal and another straight degree B5 guy at Budh. The latter didn’t opt for a dual as he didn’t get what he wanted as a dual. CG was at some six point something. Nice! A bulk of the conversation also had us (Bala and me) exchange furtive looks quite frequently. Some questions were:
1. What will happen to us post our days on campus? We have really low CGs for the kind of disciplines we signed up for. (Most were A7, A8, A3 chaps).
2. Will we get jobs? [Of course you would. I did and I was a C4 student. For your pedigree, the world has more room.]
3. How promiscuous were BITSians in your time? [Well, we all were highly promiscuous but in the *^&*ing head.]
4. How did you guys intimate each other about meetings and interactions when you didn’t have mobile phones? [Well, we walked or biked around or passed the word around or simply put, we *&*^ing planned better. :)]
... and many such 'interesting' questions.
Overall, it was great to feel like a student again and like I mentioned in an earlier FB status message, we were thrilled that no one called us ‘Uncles’. In fact, some of them did say that we could pass off as current students which was hugely gratifying to note.
The current lot that we interacted with was equally chilled out if not more, a lot more adventurous than we ever probably were (as a majority), some were outwardly audacious in a good way and more importantly, they know deep down that they are there where they belong. It is just a matter of time when the true value of being a BITSian is realized. But as far as Bala and I were concerned, I don’t think we ever worried about ‘what will be’ in our 3rd year. Once a BITSian, always a BITSian – and Nothing Else Matters!
0530 hrs, 21 November, Room #11, Alumni House… Lights out!
The Morning After
I woke up bright and early at 0800 hrs despite the stretch of the previous day. I was hungry and needed to have a good breakfast before we unleash ourselves on campus to soak in as much as we can during the only full day we would have on campus. Bala was all curled up in his quilt and was peacefully sleeping. I decided to wake him to check if he was keen on breaker but as expected, he chose to sleep on for a while longer.
I walked down to the dining area at the Alumni House to find Kailash who was the resident caretaker of the guests. The hall was empty and the long table was devoid of anything. He was busy working something up in the adjoining kitchen. I opted for corn flakes, a jumbo egg-white omelette, two slices of toasted white bread and tea. Post breaker, I ambled back to the room only to find Bala still sleeping like a baby. At around 0930 hrs, our man woke up while I decided to slip back into bed for a short snooze while he got ready to head out.
At 1030 hrs, we hit the trail to C’not to buy smokes (yes, they don’t allow students to smoke on campus but ironically, they allow the shopkeepers to sell cigarettes) and subsequently, we went straight to Sky where Bala helped himself to a breakfast of Pappu’s cheese sandwiches over double-chai. The Sky lawns were littered with all sorts of things including paper plates, wrappers, etc but the weather was perfect. We basked under the warm winter sun for a while and we reminisced about our times on campus. Everything seemed like yesterday. Time indeed does fly but we were glad we made it to campus before we looked too old or felt too old.
Then we decided to go to the Museum but unfortunately, it was closed that day as it was Gurpurab (Guru Nanak’s birthday). I had never been to the Museum during my time on campus and here was another forced miss. We couldn’t have done it the next day, as the Museum’s weekly shutdown day is Monday. So there is definitely another trip to campus in the offing for me.
Then we walked past Malviya Bhavan to check out the Student Activity Center which has come up next to Mal, which houses the now famous ‘Food King’ joint run by our very own Sharath Babu (BITS, IIM-A). As we approached it, Bala spotted Ghanshyam, one of the mess workers in the RB (Ram-Budh) mess. I recognized him too and he was a plumper version of his old ’93-’94 self.
What was RBM mess is now RB mess with Mal having it own mess given the fact that the original Mal Bhavan is called Mal A and on the side, Mal B and Mal C have come up. Mal A was converted to be the girl’s hostel a few years ago for probably a couple of seasons as the then count of the ladies was over 2,000. Now the ratio is back to what is was during our time and the ladies are all now back in the original Meera Bhavan.
Well, Ghanshyam told us that SAC opens only in the evening much to our progressive disappointment. So we walked into Mal A to visit the wing where I had my taste of ethanol (New Wing upstairs facing Sky), while Bala wanted to visit his room in the Pi wing (upstairs facing BVP). The time now was 1240 hrs and we decided to get to RB mess for lunch. While I wanted to go to RPA mess, Bala’s heart was with RB mess as he ate there for four of his five years on campus.
RB Mess
As we walked in, we noticed a desktop computer on the mess manager’s counter. Next to his counter were two tall fridges which stored all kinds of soft drinks including the aerated ones and the fruit juices. In front was a contraption which looked like a chaat station but it was actually a counter for self service. The drill these days is that one picks up the plate and walks to this self service station where one mess worker serves you a portion each of dal and subzi or whatever else that is going. Then you help yourself to the rest (curd, fried potatoes, etc) which are all handed out by a couple of other mess workers. The rotis are all there in one large casserole and you can help yourself to as many as you like. Then you look for a spot to park and start grubbing. I didn’t quite notice the drill for procuring water as it was served to us, for the mess manager had Ghanshyam on our case. The only thing that was on the table was the bowl of pulao (Sunday special). Our lunch comprised of mutter paneer, yellow daal, fried potato chips (which were super spicy and over-salted), a bowl of curd, pulao and a few rotis. The taste of the food is still the same which made us grin. I can’t describe the priceless feeling of having mess grub. It is beyond words.
Post lunch, we said our goodbyes to the mess manager, Ghanshyam and Bachcha Singh-ji and walked back to Sky.
1400 hrs – Still no students at Sky. We decided to get back to the Alumni House to pack up and head to the Guest House. The ’81 Batch guys and their families had left that morning. When we reached the Alumni House, Kailash told us that the Guest House is currently being cleaned up and we should head there around 1600 hrs. So there it was for us – a forced siesta which actually did us good.
We moved our stuff to the Guest House which is now called VFAST (Visiting Faculty and Students’ Hostel). I just got the expansion from a 3rd year A3 student in the form of reply to my text message. It is the same Laxminarayan Guest House which now has an extended block.
1700 hrs – Back at Sky and in wait for the student interaction that we asked for. Mr President was to organize this at our behest and we were really excited about meeting a cross-section of students from all batches.
1740 hrs – Still no sign of the students and a few calls to Mr President and Mr Gen Secretary went unanswered. Maybe the hangover of the previous night was still lingering, or so we thought and gave up on any further interactions with students. We then checked with Pappu on his evening schedule and we headed to the Temple but not before we drove around.
Saraswathi Temple
A visit to the Saraswathi Temple is a must. There is a new statue of GD Birla-ji bang on the opposite side of the road in front of the Temple. We parked on Temple Road, a few yards away from the entrance of the Temple. We walked in and the usual spot took off our shoes and made our way up the stairs. There were a few students sitting on the steps that take us to the main altar. The last time I walked up there, I was obviously in serious prayer mode invoking the Goddess to grant me a few good grades as the Compres were coming up. This time around, there was a sense of gratitude and peace and I surely was counting my blessings for all the experiences I have been through since the time I stepped out with a Degree in tow. I stood there admiring the idol of the Goddess while the thoughts of those days on campus raced past yet again. And then, the priest got on to performing the ‘aarti’ as his aide blew the conch. I am sure Bala had his own thoughts to deal with. We then took the traditional walk around the Temple. The cold marble floor under our feet notwithstanding, we tried our best to avoid as many pigeon droppings as was possible in the dark. Another timeless fact about campus that will never change! We then sat on the steps of the Temple as is the tradition, and looked on admirably at the Insti building.
As far as women were concerned, I noticed the maximum number of women at one place during all our time on campus at the Temple. Maybe it was about the Compres which are around the corner or maybe it is just that most of them are from the traditional bastions of South India or maybe it was something else…
Gate Calls
From what we noticed, Gate Calls to the women at Meera Bhavan are a lost cause, at least in the most part. The only thing that probably hasn’t changed is that the guys still see off their women at the gates of MB when it is time for the forced breakup at 2300 hrs before sunrise the next morning. In these days of mobile and internet connectivity, I am sure the respective genders text each other or ping each other over IM to decide on the rendezvous time and place. Coming to think of it, it actually saves time though quite not the expense factor. But from what I know and still do believe, the women must still be excited about receiving a gate call which has a special feel to the experience. But I am not the best one to judge that specialness as I hardly experienced that side of life on campus. Bala might want to take this up a little more seriously for the benefit and clamor of all those who wanted to know.
Dinner, Drinks & Random Talk
Being on campus for a little over 24 hours pretty much got us all soaked in with all the BITSian-ness that we needed. At the cost of being repetitive, we were thrilled to have made it to campus. We drove to C’not to meet Pappu at his restaurant for another evening of indulgence. We sat in the corner room and while we sipped our scotch, Pappu nursed his beer. The evening wound up at around 2245 hrs after we feasted on some chicken curry, naans, rice and curd.
Right through the evening, we talked about those we knew around campus during our times and Pappu added his own masala with his stories of how much fun he had running his business at Sky in those days compared to the current times.
Weary, buzzed and sleepy, Arvind and I made our way to the Guest House but after a while a couple of students dropped by for another ‘lachcha’ session. And we got chatting again, trying our best to assuage the concerns of these 3rd year-ites that life goes a long way beyond CGPAs. Bala had his B5-A4 and then IIM-L experiences to recant while I spoke about my experiences on campus and how brand BITS stays with each of us for the rest of time. Some more spirits flowed as we chatted away.
Most of the guys we met seemed to have girlfriends and believe it or not, BITSians these days are quite adventurous. I remember, during our times, a rendezvous out of campus would mean a trip to Khetri or some nearby retreat like the Midway Hotel, if it was to be a short trip of sorts. The longer trips would mean a rafting expedition, or a trip to Auli or maybe a trip to the dunes of the Thar Desert around Jaisalmer/ Udaipur. These days, destinations of choice are McLeodgunj or Pushkar, to experience the ‘hippie’ side of life. Believe it!!! Like I mentioned earlier, these choices were of the tiny cross-section of BITSian that we interacted with and might not be a true representation of the overall student community. But that said, we learnt a lot more ‘life on campus’. Relationships on campus are no longer about walking around all evening from sunset to almost 2300 hrs. Life and relationships are more existential, experimental and of course, more exhilarating and exciting. We also ‘heard’ about a couple of instances where women have entered the well-guarded and almost completely grilled bhavans to spend time in their boyfriends’ rooms. I am not sure how much of that is true but it sure sounded very believable. The question about ‘promiscuity’ just ran through my head yet again and again and again.
Compared to our times, many more students are hooked to the real side of campus life related to their indulgences. With getting specific (about which I am sure each of you are well aware of), students get hooked to these right on from the very first semester on campus. Average out-of-pocket expenses of students have also gone up (~Rs 4-8K depending on one’s indulgences) and so have the average mess bills (~Rs 3-4K a month including extras). Everything adds up right from your outstation trips to hotel room charges to mobile recharges to simply having a good time with buddies over jam sessions and drinks. But who cares, as long as Daddies and Mommies are paying up.
So, there it was… the continued reinforcement that the younger lot were having a ball on campus but in a very different way, from what we did. We planned for an early start the next morning so we had to wind up at around 0300 hrs but only after gifting away the remaining scotch we carried. And it was lapped up with broad buzzed grins.
Next Morning
I woke up at 0800 hrs and decided to get through with my ablutions at the soonest before I woke up Bala. We promised a ride to one of the students who wanted to go to Delhi for a couple of days to meet with his friend. We had also promised Pappu that we will bid him goodbye before we embark on our return journey. So by 0945 hrs, we breezed through breaker at the Guest House, tipped our hosts and made our way to Sky.
But yes, we had to do one more thing before we set sail… which was to buy the memorabilia – Tees and Sweat Shirts. While I parked in front of Ram’s new wing facing the S-block, Bala had made his way to the BITSAA store in the same block. We quickly checked out the wares and picked up a few tees including the all-time favorite, 333031 one. Bala was a tad disappointed as the sweatshirt that he wanted (BITS Pilani, Estd 1964) wasn’t available in his preferred XXL size while I managed an XL for myself.
We then had our double chai at Sky, bid our farewell to Pappu and hit the trail back to Delhi. This time around, it was:
Pilani – Loharu – Satnali – Mahendragarh – Rewari – Gurgaon with two stopovers. One for ‘Child Beer’ and other to drop Bala at his pad in Gurgaon.
It was a trip that will remain etched in our cumulative memories for the rest of time and I am sure we will make a few more back to VV campus in the not-so-far future.
I hope each of you who read this could rewind your mind to the times you spent on campus. Regardless of where we ended up getting to post our days at Pilani, campus was the place where I firmly believe, we walked in as ‘boys and girls’ and walked out as ‘men and women’.
Long live the tradition! ‘Gyaanam Paramam Balam.’
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Inch by Inch
I just had to post this. :)
This is the transcript of one of the Greatest on-screen Monologues Ever… Truly Inspirational Stuff!!! Phew! I recently saw the movie on WB but the transcript which I first read in July 2008 still revs me up. I still do read it every now and then and let it take me to a different plane each time.
Use your discretion to share it with your teams, friends… and whoever else you might think will draw value from mere words that have so much depth. Be well, Do well & Stay Close!
----------------------------------------------------------
Al Pacino's ‘Inch-By-Inch’ speech from ‘Any Given Sunday’ (the movie)!
I don't know what to say really.
Three minutes
to the biggest battle of our professional lives
all comes down to today.
Either
we heal
as a team
or we are going to crumble.
Inch by inch
play by play
till we're finished.
We are in hell right now, gentlemen
believe me
and
we can stay here
and get the shit kicked out of us
or
we can fight our way
back into the light.
We can climb out of hell.
One inch, at a time.
Now I can't do it for you.
I'm too old.
I look around and I see these young faces
and I think
I mean
I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make.
I uh....
I pissed away all my money
believe it or not.
I chased off
anyone who has ever loved me.
And lately,
I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know when you get old in life
things get taken from you.
That's, that's part of life.
But,
you only learn that when you start losing stuff.
You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is football.
Because in either game
life or football
the margin for error is so small.
I mean
one half step too late or too early
you don't quite make it.
One half second too slow or too fast
and you don't quite catch it.
The inches we need are everywhere around us.
They are in ever break of the game
every minute, every second.
On this team, we fight for that inch
On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us
to pieces for that inch.
We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.
Cause we know
when we add up all those inches
that's going to make the fucking difference
between WINNING and LOSING
between LIVING and DYING.
I'll tell you this
in any fight
it is the guy who is willing to die
who is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch
because that is what LIVING is.
The six inches in front of your face.
Now I can't make you do it.
You gotta look at the guy next to you.
Look into his eyes.
Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You are going to see a guy
who will sacrifice himself for this team
because he knows when it comes down to it,
you are gonna do the same thing for him.
That's a team, gentlemen
and either we heal now, as a team,
or we will die as individuals.
That's football guys.
That's all it is.
Now, whattaya gonna do?
-------------------------------
This is the transcript of one of the Greatest on-screen Monologues Ever… Truly Inspirational Stuff!!! Phew! I recently saw the movie on WB but the transcript which I first read in July 2008 still revs me up. I still do read it every now and then and let it take me to a different plane each time.
Use your discretion to share it with your teams, friends… and whoever else you might think will draw value from mere words that have so much depth. Be well, Do well & Stay Close!
----------------------------------------------------------
Al Pacino's ‘Inch-By-Inch’ speech from ‘Any Given Sunday’ (the movie)!
I don't know what to say really.
Three minutes
to the biggest battle of our professional lives
all comes down to today.
Either
we heal
as a team
or we are going to crumble.
Inch by inch
play by play
till we're finished.
We are in hell right now, gentlemen
believe me
and
we can stay here
and get the shit kicked out of us
or
we can fight our way
back into the light.
We can climb out of hell.
One inch, at a time.
Now I can't do it for you.
I'm too old.
I look around and I see these young faces
and I think
I mean
I made every wrong choice a middle age man could make.
I uh....
I pissed away all my money
believe it or not.
I chased off
anyone who has ever loved me.
And lately,
I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror.
You know when you get old in life
things get taken from you.
That's, that's part of life.
But,
you only learn that when you start losing stuff.
You find out that life is just a game of inches.
So is football.
Because in either game
life or football
the margin for error is so small.
I mean
one half step too late or too early
you don't quite make it.
One half second too slow or too fast
and you don't quite catch it.
The inches we need are everywhere around us.
They are in ever break of the game
every minute, every second.
On this team, we fight for that inch
On this team, we tear ourselves, and everyone around us
to pieces for that inch.
We CLAW with our finger nails for that inch.
Cause we know
when we add up all those inches
that's going to make the fucking difference
between WINNING and LOSING
between LIVING and DYING.
I'll tell you this
in any fight
it is the guy who is willing to die
who is going to win that inch.
And I know
if I am going to have any life anymore
it is because, I am still willing to fight, and die for that inch
because that is what LIVING is.
The six inches in front of your face.
Now I can't make you do it.
You gotta look at the guy next to you.
Look into his eyes.
Now I think you are going to see a guy who will go that inch with you.
You are going to see a guy
who will sacrifice himself for this team
because he knows when it comes down to it,
you are gonna do the same thing for him.
That's a team, gentlemen
and either we heal now, as a team,
or we will die as individuals.
That's football guys.
That's all it is.
Now, whattaya gonna do?
-------------------------------
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
People Who Matter.
India offers the luxury that the west can never have. There are people everywhere and that translates to a far greater frequency of connect. These connects means dependencies which transpire into reverse enslavement. Yes, while we hold lofty views about freedom, we are actually very very dependent on the ‘People Who Matter’.
There was a post that I wrote a couple of years ago which is titled ‘Survival Ecosystems’ which you can find in the 2008 drop down.
I wrote that as an ode to the man who made sure that he ‘took care’ of my most prized material possession along with that of many other hurried office goers. Mishraji, the Lord of the parking cartel and his ilk continue to prosper even in these times. The job description for these brave souls almost never changes. And there there is never a frown or a grimace that appears in the line of duty. The contentment that they have in doing what they do, hour after hour, day after day, month after month, and year after year is unsurpassable and it just seems to reach stratospheric proportions. I moved on from that zone that Mishraji rules in, meaning I changed jobs. But I do manage to get to his kingdom every other month and he still can spot my car from a fair distance. He has the same smile that can lift the spirit of the most depressed souls on the planet. His simple demeanor that has a warm approach says it all. With a circular iron ring slung across his left forearm which has hundreds of keys that are worth over a couple of crore rupees, he commands his post like a General at the warfront. He doesn’t seem to realize the value he has and the pity is that neither do the hundreds of those who entrust him with their assets know it. I am probably the only one who knows his life’s ambition which is to go back to his village and get back to a quiet life of farming. But this can happen only after his four kids are up on their feet in the big bad world of urban indifference.
I am always in awe of people like Mishraji. I always imagine how life in India would be if these unsung warriors were not around. Who is going to fix the frequent disruptions that happen to our domestic lives? What would I do without Dinesh, the electrician who doubles up as my man Friday? What would I do without Rout, the plumber who almost always drops everything to come repair a leaking tank or a faucet? What would we do if Rupa, the cook, didn’t show up? There are many whose names are just a memory now but I have a deep sense of gratitude for them.
Every trip back home is mandated by a visit to Koti’s shop who prides in his snipping abilities. He is the same guy who snipped my mane from the time I was four years old. From those days of shearing the top to this day of ‘special’ treatment to the boy who he saw grow up. He looks frail now but his fingers still work the work with the same speed and precision that only a seasoned hand has mastered. Ashok, the kirana store owner on our street back home, is reminiscent of Pappu, the skylab icon at my alma mater. Both look very similar with those stained bunny teeth imploring the lips to make way for a world view. Ashok always had a candy ready for me when I used to return from school. It was probably his way of working at customer loyalty but the real reason (which I realized much later) was that he expected us to stop by every time we passed by. It didn’t matter if we bought anything or not, as most often we did. His store was at the corner of our street which had a dead end and he knew he had to ensure to stay well in the eyes of his captive customers.
Going further back, Mallanna was the man who instilled the confidence to try the untried. He was the milkman in Narsapur, who taught me how to ride a bicycle when I was there during the summer of ’86 to visit my maternal aunt. He even taught me how to ride a buffalo in his milk yard where he owned about nine buffaloes. While I mastered the bicycle, slow buffalo riding was not a sustainable option. Today, Mallanna is a grandfather who lords over this dairy business which apparently diversified into a couple of sweetmeat stores in the town. His brood of buffaloes apparently is over a hundred strong today, which is bound to be, as he must be servicing the sugar needs of Narsapur through his extended empire. Happy for him!
Today, I went to visit one of my four band of ‘barber brothers’ – Anwar, Riyaz, Usman and Salim. Usually, one of these four answers the phone and then gets to my place for a quick personalized snip session. This being the season of Id, I decided to go to their shanty shop and it was Salim for this time around. Riyaz and Anwar were back in their village for a brief vacation from the rushes of urban strife while Usman was at home recovering from the flu. Each of these brothers ‘know’ what is expected and they take special care for the little extra that they always get from my end for their personalized attention. What is more amazing to me is that our conversations border along philosophical lines and not so much about it being a monologue from them about bad their existence is. Salim told me that Usman was keen to get well soon so that he could go home with him to be with family on the holy day of Eid. Every Eid, they get a handsome tip and the only trade off is some yummy mutton curry that they are yet to get me to taste.
There are at least a couple of dozen more people about whom I can go on. In retrospect, I have always learnt something from each of them. I have smoked beedis with rickshaw-pullers with the same enthusiasm I have for conversations at work or at home with friends and colleagues. I have been amazed at their outlook towards life and the subtle humor they have developed to deal with the vagaries of life.
After many such wonderful touchpoints, life continues to be impacted by many more who are innocuously all around us. Most of them are simple hopefuls who do not expect more than a kind word and a friendly smile. They are not greedy by any stretch of my imagination. At least most of them are not from what I have seen. It is the proud silence and diligence with which they go about doing their work. And from this, I learnt that no matter what, it is passion for life and work that counts in the final analysis.
I continue to bow my head in awe and respect of those who appear to be God’s lesser children but are the true custodians of his creativity. These are the ‘People Who Matter’ who make things happen! Without them, the wheels of life will get derailed, at least in this part of the world.
There was a post that I wrote a couple of years ago which is titled ‘Survival Ecosystems’ which you can find in the 2008 drop down.
I wrote that as an ode to the man who made sure that he ‘took care’ of my most prized material possession along with that of many other hurried office goers. Mishraji, the Lord of the parking cartel and his ilk continue to prosper even in these times. The job description for these brave souls almost never changes. And there there is never a frown or a grimace that appears in the line of duty. The contentment that they have in doing what they do, hour after hour, day after day, month after month, and year after year is unsurpassable and it just seems to reach stratospheric proportions. I moved on from that zone that Mishraji rules in, meaning I changed jobs. But I do manage to get to his kingdom every other month and he still can spot my car from a fair distance. He has the same smile that can lift the spirit of the most depressed souls on the planet. His simple demeanor that has a warm approach says it all. With a circular iron ring slung across his left forearm which has hundreds of keys that are worth over a couple of crore rupees, he commands his post like a General at the warfront. He doesn’t seem to realize the value he has and the pity is that neither do the hundreds of those who entrust him with their assets know it. I am probably the only one who knows his life’s ambition which is to go back to his village and get back to a quiet life of farming. But this can happen only after his four kids are up on their feet in the big bad world of urban indifference.
I am always in awe of people like Mishraji. I always imagine how life in India would be if these unsung warriors were not around. Who is going to fix the frequent disruptions that happen to our domestic lives? What would I do without Dinesh, the electrician who doubles up as my man Friday? What would I do without Rout, the plumber who almost always drops everything to come repair a leaking tank or a faucet? What would we do if Rupa, the cook, didn’t show up? There are many whose names are just a memory now but I have a deep sense of gratitude for them.
Every trip back home is mandated by a visit to Koti’s shop who prides in his snipping abilities. He is the same guy who snipped my mane from the time I was four years old. From those days of shearing the top to this day of ‘special’ treatment to the boy who he saw grow up. He looks frail now but his fingers still work the work with the same speed and precision that only a seasoned hand has mastered. Ashok, the kirana store owner on our street back home, is reminiscent of Pappu, the skylab icon at my alma mater. Both look very similar with those stained bunny teeth imploring the lips to make way for a world view. Ashok always had a candy ready for me when I used to return from school. It was probably his way of working at customer loyalty but the real reason (which I realized much later) was that he expected us to stop by every time we passed by. It didn’t matter if we bought anything or not, as most often we did. His store was at the corner of our street which had a dead end and he knew he had to ensure to stay well in the eyes of his captive customers.
Going further back, Mallanna was the man who instilled the confidence to try the untried. He was the milkman in Narsapur, who taught me how to ride a bicycle when I was there during the summer of ’86 to visit my maternal aunt. He even taught me how to ride a buffalo in his milk yard where he owned about nine buffaloes. While I mastered the bicycle, slow buffalo riding was not a sustainable option. Today, Mallanna is a grandfather who lords over this dairy business which apparently diversified into a couple of sweetmeat stores in the town. His brood of buffaloes apparently is over a hundred strong today, which is bound to be, as he must be servicing the sugar needs of Narsapur through his extended empire. Happy for him!
Today, I went to visit one of my four band of ‘barber brothers’ – Anwar, Riyaz, Usman and Salim. Usually, one of these four answers the phone and then gets to my place for a quick personalized snip session. This being the season of Id, I decided to go to their shanty shop and it was Salim for this time around. Riyaz and Anwar were back in their village for a brief vacation from the rushes of urban strife while Usman was at home recovering from the flu. Each of these brothers ‘know’ what is expected and they take special care for the little extra that they always get from my end for their personalized attention. What is more amazing to me is that our conversations border along philosophical lines and not so much about it being a monologue from them about bad their existence is. Salim told me that Usman was keen to get well soon so that he could go home with him to be with family on the holy day of Eid. Every Eid, they get a handsome tip and the only trade off is some yummy mutton curry that they are yet to get me to taste.
There are at least a couple of dozen more people about whom I can go on. In retrospect, I have always learnt something from each of them. I have smoked beedis with rickshaw-pullers with the same enthusiasm I have for conversations at work or at home with friends and colleagues. I have been amazed at their outlook towards life and the subtle humor they have developed to deal with the vagaries of life.
After many such wonderful touchpoints, life continues to be impacted by many more who are innocuously all around us. Most of them are simple hopefuls who do not expect more than a kind word and a friendly smile. They are not greedy by any stretch of my imagination. At least most of them are not from what I have seen. It is the proud silence and diligence with which they go about doing their work. And from this, I learnt that no matter what, it is passion for life and work that counts in the final analysis.
I continue to bow my head in awe and respect of those who appear to be God’s lesser children but are the true custodians of his creativity. These are the ‘People Who Matter’ who make things happen! Without them, the wheels of life will get derailed, at least in this part of the world.
Rude City
It doesn’t take too much to lose it up north. There are two ways to read the earlier statement. On one hand, it’s about losing it in the head and the other, more relevant aspect is that people who live up north in India come to the planet with this trait ingrained in them.
Delhi is not an easy city to like. There was a day, during the months after I first started to live here, that I told myself that one year is all I will give to this city. That was not to be as the Lord above heard that resolve louder than any prayer of mine. He knew how to show he was the boss and decided to ground me in Delhi till date. When you are stuck, you can only so much to try to free yourself. So I decided to free my mind instead, to embrace the city of space. Yeah, it is really huge. This probably is the only definition that I can attribute to Delhi that still has a positive connotation. Each city teaches you a lot of things but Delhi teaches you a tad more than you can brace up to. You learn to deal with abrasiveness that is so in your face, aggression that doesn’t have a mother or a cause, callousness that puts devils to shame, crassness that will make you try harder to remember the last good thing you heard, insensitivity that sends shivers down the spine of even butchers, and many such more glorious attributes of the made it ‘Crude’. But I have grown to love it over the years. The mantra is to ignore respectfully as one can’t reason with madness.
Walk into a general store and you know you are not wanted. The shopkeeper doesn’t care if you buy are not, and he does not make the effort to sell. The economics of demand and supply play up, almost always. The mall culture promised to change that a bit but that was just an aberration. Talk to an auto driver and you will get a firm lesson on how to say ‘No’. Try to travel in a bus and you would get a first hand feel of how to grope. Road rage is commonplace which one can be subjected to even if you are walking. You can stay at the same house for years and not know your neighbor. People just don’t make the effort to be pleasant. They specialize in making life harder than what it is. There is anger and indifference everywhere. And it loves to provoke itself raise its ugly head at the slightest cue.
But there are extraordinary moments of endearment that I have experienced that made me tighten my embrace for Delhi. There also have been a multitude of instances that make one cringe as well, sadly. The predominant Punjabi culture and music does add that lilt to your life and a spring to your step. To smile is a concept that people up north doesn’t quite warm up to too easily. It’s the whisky and the chicken that almost always break the ice.
The average man on the streets is hopeful but scared. The Metro and the BRT have made their impact in opposite ways. The largest city of India and the nerve center of governance has a long way to go to be one of the best in the world. I won’t mention the fracas around CWG as it is an issue about national pride and not about the national capital.
For me, right here, right now, Delhi is a Rude City. Love it or hate it but learn to ignore for your own good.
Delhi is not an easy city to like. There was a day, during the months after I first started to live here, that I told myself that one year is all I will give to this city. That was not to be as the Lord above heard that resolve louder than any prayer of mine. He knew how to show he was the boss and decided to ground me in Delhi till date. When you are stuck, you can only so much to try to free yourself. So I decided to free my mind instead, to embrace the city of space. Yeah, it is really huge. This probably is the only definition that I can attribute to Delhi that still has a positive connotation. Each city teaches you a lot of things but Delhi teaches you a tad more than you can brace up to. You learn to deal with abrasiveness that is so in your face, aggression that doesn’t have a mother or a cause, callousness that puts devils to shame, crassness that will make you try harder to remember the last good thing you heard, insensitivity that sends shivers down the spine of even butchers, and many such more glorious attributes of the made it ‘Crude’. But I have grown to love it over the years. The mantra is to ignore respectfully as one can’t reason with madness.
Walk into a general store and you know you are not wanted. The shopkeeper doesn’t care if you buy are not, and he does not make the effort to sell. The economics of demand and supply play up, almost always. The mall culture promised to change that a bit but that was just an aberration. Talk to an auto driver and you will get a firm lesson on how to say ‘No’. Try to travel in a bus and you would get a first hand feel of how to grope. Road rage is commonplace which one can be subjected to even if you are walking. You can stay at the same house for years and not know your neighbor. People just don’t make the effort to be pleasant. They specialize in making life harder than what it is. There is anger and indifference everywhere. And it loves to provoke itself raise its ugly head at the slightest cue.
But there are extraordinary moments of endearment that I have experienced that made me tighten my embrace for Delhi. There also have been a multitude of instances that make one cringe as well, sadly. The predominant Punjabi culture and music does add that lilt to your life and a spring to your step. To smile is a concept that people up north doesn’t quite warm up to too easily. It’s the whisky and the chicken that almost always break the ice.
The average man on the streets is hopeful but scared. The Metro and the BRT have made their impact in opposite ways. The largest city of India and the nerve center of governance has a long way to go to be one of the best in the world. I won’t mention the fracas around CWG as it is an issue about national pride and not about the national capital.
For me, right here, right now, Delhi is a Rude City. Love it or hate it but learn to ignore for your own good.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
How would it be to...
... not do anything?
... not sleep at all?
... get the mind to move things?
... have flying spoons and forks feeding you when you want to be fed?
... lie in bed till noon each day?
... talk to a cow - as in have a real conversation, one on one?
... have pets? (Eeeks!)
... have four day work weeks with Wednesday being the day off as well?
... get rewarded adequately for all the good work done? [Never happens as easily]
... be a lot luckier? [I can vouch for that.]
... feel a lot luckier?
... teach kids at/ through an NGO?
... talk less? [Scary thought!]
... spend lesser?
... spend more?
... vacation more frequently?
... be tireless?
... just have someone drop by to have a drink without 'asking' if they should drop by?
... not have maid support? [Chaos!]
... not have bootleggers on call?
... not have man-fridays to do odd jobs?
... not have mobile phones?
... not have the internet? [Phew!]
... just feel relaxed without telling yourself you need to take that break to feel so?
... be shared? [Controversial, huh!]
... not have hair loss issues? [I wish!]
... not a bad hair day? [Every day is one.]
... have a unbelievable phase of great luck and providence? [Waiting...]
... roll back the years? [May be not.]
... not smoke? [Well...]
... do different things beyond routine?
... have no watches, anywhere? [Ahem.]
... work from home, always? [:o)]
... be invisible? [No fun.]
... cycle to work?
... be lonely in a crowded place?
... not have cricket as a game?
... have perfect vision?
... be a farmer? [Back to the roots.]
... not know to walk, talk and speak in 'Engleees'?
... not have social networking sites?
... be overhelmed with the noise of silence?
... be at peace with the pace?
...
...
...
... feel good, always? [I feel good now.]
[Unfinished but I guess the list is endless.]
... not sleep at all?
... get the mind to move things?
... have flying spoons and forks feeding you when you want to be fed?
... lie in bed till noon each day?
... talk to a cow - as in have a real conversation, one on one?
... have pets? (Eeeks!)
... have four day work weeks with Wednesday being the day off as well?
... get rewarded adequately for all the good work done? [Never happens as easily]
... be a lot luckier? [I can vouch for that.]
... feel a lot luckier?
... teach kids at/ through an NGO?
... talk less? [Scary thought!]
... spend lesser?
... spend more?
... vacation more frequently?
... be tireless?
... just have someone drop by to have a drink without 'asking' if they should drop by?
... not have maid support? [Chaos!]
... not have bootleggers on call?
... not have man-fridays to do odd jobs?
... not have mobile phones?
... not have the internet? [Phew!]
... just feel relaxed without telling yourself you need to take that break to feel so?
... be shared? [Controversial, huh!]
... not have hair loss issues? [I wish!]
... not a bad hair day? [Every day is one.]
... have a unbelievable phase of great luck and providence? [Waiting...]
... roll back the years? [May be not.]
... not smoke? [Well...]
... do different things beyond routine?
... have no watches, anywhere? [Ahem.]
... work from home, always? [:o)]
... be invisible? [No fun.]
... cycle to work?
... be lonely in a crowded place?
... not have cricket as a game?
... have perfect vision?
... be a farmer? [Back to the roots.]
... not know to walk, talk and speak in 'Engleees'?
... not have social networking sites?
... be overhelmed with the noise of silence?
... be at peace with the pace?
...
...
...
... feel good, always? [I feel good now.]
[Unfinished but I guess the list is endless.]
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Thinking Aloud... 'Feeling Good'!
1200 hrs, At the Office. On a mini-break from the frenetic pace of juggling multiple tasks over the past fortnight. The past week was particularly crazy but it is all good. The fun part is that it gives me the rush that keeps me going.
I just told myself over the weekend that I should be more regular with my blog posts. It is not meant to be a personal diary made public. It is always nice to feel good about the fact that your friends get to read a bit about you every now and then, even though you are not as apprised about their lives. Sometimes I wonder if all the effort that I make to be in touch is really worth it. But again, it is all about the 'feel good' factor.
I feel good about making the effort to be in touch. I feel good about knowing or in most cases assuming that everyone who I have ever known this far is out there doing well while fighting their own battles and waging their little wars. I feel good just being me.
Each day has its share of surprises. Hopefully, the happier surprises are the ones we all should be dealing with for a long time to come. On that note... I am getting back to work. Cheers!
I just told myself over the weekend that I should be more regular with my blog posts. It is not meant to be a personal diary made public. It is always nice to feel good about the fact that your friends get to read a bit about you every now and then, even though you are not as apprised about their lives. Sometimes I wonder if all the effort that I make to be in touch is really worth it. But again, it is all about the 'feel good' factor.
I feel good about making the effort to be in touch. I feel good about knowing or in most cases assuming that everyone who I have ever known this far is out there doing well while fighting their own battles and waging their little wars. I feel good just being me.
Each day has its share of surprises. Hopefully, the happier surprises are the ones we all should be dealing with for a long time to come. On that note... I am getting back to work. Cheers!
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