Finally........Wrote Something

It was 4am in a chilly December morning.After 5 long months I was moving towards home. The cab that was taking me and a few of my friends from Pilani to the IGI Airport stopped on the way near a roadside dhaba. It was somewhere near Gurgaon and the driver wanted to fight the biting cold with a cup of tea.I found myself too lazy to get down from the cab just for the sake of a cup of tea. A Bollywood movie was being played on the dhaba. I could hear some 90s-like dialogues. The people sitting on the back of the cab seemed to be relishing the movie. I could hear someone telling "Chunkey Pandey". Finally with great effort, I moved my body and faced the dhaba just to catch a glimpse of the movie. The first thing that I saw on the screen was "THE END" written in bold yellow letters............

Finally after four months, I seem to have penned down something on my blog. I had almost turned obsolete in the blogging circuit for the past few months. No wonders, laziness had overpowered me. I would unhesitatingly admit I am no busy soul that I could not afford a little time to share my thoughts in the blogosphere. But as Marquis de Vauvenargues quoted "lazy people are always anxious to be doing something". I seemed to be always more-than-ready to update my blog, then I postpone it off to later and later. Eventually, it took me four long months and a some serious days of illness to realize that life has turned too lazy for me.

As I turn back to the long semester I just got done with (although semesters in BITS never seem too long enough), I feel I could have done many more things than what I had done. Agreed, my life revolved around my friends, my non-stop exams, a few extra-curricular clubs and preparations for an international event that we are organizing the next year in our campus. Agreed, I had an awesome trip to Kanpur for an MUN and a couple of mad,mad trips to Delhi. But still I find something missing within me. I feel I had not given my best in my endeavors. I presume, I could have still done lots more for myself, for my academics, for my clubs, for our big event. Maybe, when one falls sick and then lies on the bed having nothing to do, one gets such weird thoughts about being more productive. I might be no exception to this. It was indeed after a long time that I had fallen ill. I had never been bedridden during my past one and half years in Pilani. As I laid in my room gasping and turning, yearning for someone who could go and get me a glass of water in the dead of night, I started missing my home. For the first time in many years, I actually had such a strong urge to go back to my home - some thousand miles away in the other end of the nation.

Never in the wildest of my dreams had I contemplated that the journey back home would be worth a remembrance for me. The four-hour journey by cab had nothing much significant except for the dhaba episode in Gurgaon. The next 2-hours of flight from Delhi to Guwahati was spent in deep slumber. Of course, the breathtakingly beautiful Terminal 3 of the IGI was a treat to the eyes. The magnificent lounge, the state-of-the-art runway and the cup of coffee that cost nearly a hundred bucks!!!!!! Finally, it was my journey from Guwahati to my hometown Dhemaji that was worth recounting. In the middle of night and in the midst of nowhere I found myself caught in a strife between passengers and a bus service. The bus that was supposed to take me to my hometown got damaged beyond repairs. A new bus was supposed to arrive instantaneously. But nothing such "instantaneous" took place for the next few hours. The passengers soon got enraged and there started a series of events where the bus-guy nearly got beaten up. It was late night and the weather was cold enough to let shivers down your spine. I do admit that the cold of Assam is not as severe as that of Rajasthan. But having traveled many a miles since morning, I was in no mood to sit in that open night in the group of a few furious strangers,yearning for a bus that could take us to our home still 500 kilometers away. Finally, this heavy drama ended when we caught hold of a bus that was on its way to Itanagar in Arunachal Pradesh. We coaxed the driver and bribed him (a bit!) until he agreed to divert his bus to Dhemaji instead of going to Itanagar. The people going to Arunachal were made to get down and wait for the next bus while we boarded the bus and took it to my hometown. I realized at the end of this drama that all my sickness, all my illness had disappeared after this episode. I found myself rejuvenated as I finally embarked on the journey that would finally take me home. 

Finally, after three days in home as I set out for the Himalayas (yes, in this winter!!!), I presume I still have some productivity left in me and I have not been bellowed down by the ravages of laziness. And hereby, I promise to myself that I would be more active in my blog henceforth and try to write down things that would make more sense.

The Independent Me

Well I had been raring to write this post since the 15th of August. But owing to a few obligations and a poor net connection in our hostel rooms, I had to postpone it for the next few days.

It was early in the morning of the Indpendence Day when a friend woke me up asking if I would accompany him to the flag-hoisting grounds in our campus. Did I really need to get out of my deep slumber, leave my beautiful dreams and walk all the way to watch our new Vice-Chancellor hoisting the tricolour? Definetely it was worth it. But I did not go and went back to my dreams. Someone reading this post might call me unpatriotic. But  it was not me alone. I would say for sure that half of India might have been disappointed that Independence Day was a Sunday this year. A holiday wasted!!!!!!

Are we really independent? Have we become independent just because the Union Jack got replaced by the Tricolour 64 years back ?

15th August, 2004. Dhemaji. My hometown in Assam. A powerful explosion blew down 13 people to death in the parade grounds of our town - minutes before the Tricolour was hoisted in the parade grounds. Amongst those thirteen victims, ten of them were schoolchildren. The rest three were ladies. Later, post-mortem reports revealed that two out of  those three ladies were pregnant at the time of their death. What was their fault that they were made to cross the Ajax for no reason? Going for the celebrations  of Independence Day could not be a fault. Till today, the sight of the thirteen bodies laid on the grounds of our district civil hospital flashes in my mind. Still, the wailing voices of the mothers who lost their kids echoes in my heart. Still, every Independence Day reminds the people of Assam this dark day in our state. Therafter, parents in Assam stopped sending their kids for Independnce Day parades. 15th of August became just another holiday for most of the people in the state. Many children who have grown up in Assam in this decade have almost lost the habit of attending Independence Day celebrations. Did the terrorists who hated India win through this bomb-blast? They did not. They will not. For people like us, Independence Day need not be celebrated by hoisting the National Flag. In heart and mind, I am a  citizen of the independent India - the world's biggest democracy. Basting a few crackers (read : bombs) could stop the people from atteding flag-hoisting ceremonies. But it could not take away from the heart of the people the feeling of Indianness. The pride of being a part of this great nation.

India and the boy........the boy and India

Once upon a time in India there lived a boy called Bhim. Diligent he was, but tortured. Hard-working he was, but hated and oppressed. Qualified he was, but still despised and debarred from opportunities. What was his fault? Why did he fail to win over the society? He was born a low caste. He was a Mahar. The young boy grew up to be a qualified barrister. He fought against the Hindu rules. He embraced Buddhism. He brought a new verve, vivacity and vigour amongst the low castes and 'untouchables' who have been beleaguered, oppressed and looked down upon by the so-called Brahmins and high castes of India for ages. He became the first Law Minister of independent India. He played the most pivotal role in drafting the constitution of the world’s largest democracy. He became the world renowned Babasaheb – Dr. B.R. Ambedkar. He changed the Indian laws that have been written in the favor of the higher castes since time immemorial. He granted a new lease of life to the oppressed and underdeveloped communities of the nation. He was the person who played the most prominent role in introducing reservation.

   Fast forward sixty years. Modern India. As the first decade of the new millennium arrives at its terminus, the laws of Dr. Ambedkar still persist in this nation. In the meantime, India becomes the second most populous nation with the number of educated and qualified people soaring to prodigious heights. The nation now becomes the abode to a mad race of human rats. Rats struggling to achieve success. Rats striving hard to be doctors, engineers, administrative officers, lawyers et. al. In this human sea, only a handful of them realize their cherished dreams and achieve their goals. Aspirants are more. Opportunities are few. But still there exists reservation for a certain section of people - the so-called oppressed, backward and underdeveloped communities. Well and well, India still has a large chunk of people living below poverty line. Take a walk in the villages and backward areas. A large section of the Indians still thrive from hand to mouth devoid of any modernization. The Government of India seems to be very just providing “reservation” to these oppressed classes.
  
  Now have a closer look in the Indian laws. Reservation exists. It functions in 21st century India not on the basis of economy, but on the basis of caste. Reservation is a birth-right in modern India. There is no reservation for the son of a high-caste beggar. But there prevails reservation for the son of a low-caste millionaire. And still India vaunts to be the world’s largest socialist, secular and sovereign democracy.
 
  This is the season when the results of different competitive exams are being announced in the nation. After every result for every exam, the same question arises again and again in my mind. I see students studying together, preparing for the same exams and availing to the same facilities and amenities. A few of them toil hard. The other few do not. Yet, many a times the rule of reservation puts the hard-working students behind the ones who toiled less. Was birth in a higher caste a mistake for those hard-working pupils? Why is the government giving away many seats and facilities to undeserving people in this land of limited opportunities?  In the false veil of reservation and just for the sake of vote banks!!!!  Reservation is hardly availed to by the people who really deserve it. A few trips to rural India has shown me people who are really talented, who could have indeed expanded their wings lest they could have savored the benefits of reservation. But no one cares for them. Members from same families have been making the most out of reservation from generations while the rest deserving families remain deprived for good.

  Who is to blame for this open injustice? The government? The people? The politicians? The boy called Bhim? Or everyone? I might be one of the thousand Indians singing the same song against reservation and getting no reply in return. But I do wish to speak up. This is one question in modern India that indeed demands a proper reply.

a short poem written by me sometimes back.............

Chemical Dreams................
(published in PHENOMENON, the official journal of Chemical Engineering Association, BITS Pilani)




The dreary desert sand beckoned
The dusty roads of Pilani called.
Decades of engineering allured.
Yes, the world of chemicals welcomed.

Destiny's blue eyes smiling at me
The withering roads of my heart baffling me
Your sensuous voice stopping me
The flying desire wondering within me.

Did the sands snatch you away ?
Did my chemical dreams drift us away ?
Why didn't your eyes change my way ?
Did they try luring me back to the bay ?

With bated breath, I gasped.
With muddling thoughts, I wondered.
With future dreams, I decided.
With an unfathomable frenzy, I moved.

This was my dream ; the destiny I aspired for.
Chemicals and chemicals I am waiting for,
Never known what they are used for.
But this is where I am destined for.

................a few thoughts................

“ What Man has made of Man”

I vaguely recall this line by Wordsworth I had learnt sometimes in school. Those days learning a poem meant analyzing every line of it ; making disastrous efforts to extract meanings out of these every lines and putting them down on paper praying that they are deemed by some unknown examiner sitting miles away to be fit for a handful of marks !!!!!!!

Years on and this particular line indeed seems to make sense for me.

February 2010. The city of Pune weeps with shock and grief as a blast echoes in the area surrounding the German Bakery. Mothers blame their destiny .The children whom they have raised with great efforts get washed away by the press of a button. Beautiful dreams that have been nurtured through years terminate in a few seconds. This is the modern man living a modern life and vaunting in the name of modernization…………………………………………………………………………

………………………. I wake up at 5 am this morning ( a very rare thing for someone like me who seldom gets out of the blanket before 8 am). Just three hours later I have a mathematics exam and I still got a heap of syllabus to conquer. My eyes turn to my cell phone. A missed call sent by an old friend. Kudos to the modern technology of “missed call” some people in some another corner of the nation can still assert without any loss of penny that they do “miss” me. Modern man has indeed gone a long way from the caves and jungles……………………………………

The depleting number of tiger population has already raised eyebrows of the modern thinkers. Now comes a fresh news reporting there might be less number of great white sharks than tigers. The majestic creations of nature are moving towards an end. The only unique planet of this galaxy ( or even the universe ) seems to be transforming. Transcending from a breathtakingly beautiful masterpiece of the magnanimous Nature to a heap of buildings and factories of the egocentric Man. We should love all fellow beings as well as other creations of nature. An old teacher in my school often told us.

…………………….The voice again tries to ring within me. The sensuous eyes seem to be gazing towards me. The beautiful face very close to me. Until I realize I was dreaming. I know I should move on. There are more grave issues I should focus on rather than……………………..A couple of times I have journeyed from Pilani to New Delhi by a bus. The green and beautiful fields on both sides of the road suddenly disappear. The infinitely tall buildings and the never - ending flyovers of Delhi and Gurgaon supplant the natural beauty. The changing face of the world vividly delineated in front of me. But still I never think too much about it. Even I am one of the selfish modern man always obsessed with myself and my dreams. The beautiful world and the wonderful mankind needs more concern now…………………………………..

……………I came across an article in mid-day.com about a young girl whose Facebook status read "I believe in being a beautiful and strong woman who will make heads turn and eyes look up…………” But that belief and dream will linger on as a belief and dream till eternity. The lady got killed in the Pune bomb blast. Kudos to the modern man who forms, reforms and destroys dreams.

End of a saga

 Indubitably, Jyoti Basu’s death turned out to be the News of the Day. As the Union Home Minister P. Chidambaram described Basu  “….. He strode like a colossus on the Indian political scene for several decades. He was a great patriot, a great democrat. He lived a full life.” I would not dare try to fill  up my blog space unfolding my views on the Left or Right Front .Of course as my little knowledge tells me some principles of Marxism regarding economic or social egalitarianism do deserve accolades. But “a little knowledge” being a “dangerous” thing, I would better keep myself aloof from this squabble or argument. No matter whatever one calls this dispute but Jyoti Basu, one of the greatest Marxist who ever lived in the nation was indeed a prodigious politician. It is not everyone who would unhesitatingly decline to be the Prime Minister of India (In 1996 Basu declined the United Front’s offer to lead the federal government as the PM). One really needs to be beyond the ordinary to govern an Indian  province as the Chief Minister for 23 long years (Basu was the CM of West Bengal from June 1977 to November 2000).

 The death of Basu made our nation lose another illustrious star of modern India.

Agriculture celebrated

It's mid January - the Indian month of Maagha or Magh. As I stay curled up inside my blanket shivering in the biting but mesmerizing cold of Pilani ; far away my home-province wakes up with full verve and enthusiasm to celebrate Bhogali Bihu.

 Bihu - the very word that turns every heart in Assam elated with joy refers to three separate festivals - Bhogali Bihu, Rangali Bihu and Kangali Bihu. Bhogali comes from the Sanskrit word bhog which means eating and enjoyment. Popularly known as Magh Bihu  it marks the ripening of harvests in Assam. The eve of this Bihu is known as uruka. It is celebrated by feasting and merry-making in fields. People stay overnight in temporary huts called bhela ghar relishing the fruits of their hard labor in the fields. The next day commences with the burning of meji - a huge structure made of bamboo and wood and covered with hay. It is followed by the sharing of traditional Assamese food pitha and jalpaan. A serene atmosphere of merry-making and fun prevails in every household.

 Be it Makar Sankranti or Pongal or Lohri or Magh Bihu - these festivals signify the prowess of agriculturists in India. Nature lets her most intelligent creation push the boat out and enjoy the fruits of harvesting in a nation where a vast majority still practice agriculture as the primary profession.

Engineering Idiots ??

  Watching Rajkumar Hirani's 3 Idiots for the second time again compelled the swinging mind within me to contemplate 'Was engineering a right choice for me?' 'Was I made to be an engineer?'. It might sound flabbergasting but it was Chetan Bhagat's Five Point Someone that had once inculcated within me a heavy attraction towards this career - an engineering degree from a top institute.That was years ago when I was a high school student growing up in a small town; already nurturing utopian dreams of being an IITian. No idea why, but reading a book that describes three IITians going wayward intensified my dreams of studying in one of these so-called prestigious institutes. Eventually it was not IIT but I did land up in BITS Pilani - a big dream fulfilled. The heart within me satisfied. It was a success in wars called engineering entrance . JEE, AIEEE, BITSAT etc etc. Wars where a single mark propelled you up and down through some thousand ranks. Given the craze and lure of Indian students for this career,engineering seemed to be something majestic;something that made you a man among men.

But is engineering really so dignified? Does everyone of the thousands of students who win the rat-race of engineering entrances end up  being distinguished or even successful engineers? Why do many engineers switch to management, administration, business,politics etc after grueling their minds with sophisticated theories of physics, chemistry and mathematics all through their student life ? If the aim was to go and work in a bank then why study science and technology ? Is engineering education in our nation so pathetic that students lose interest in it during the course of graduation ? Or the engineering entrances in India do not actually select the deserving students who possess an aptitude for engineering ?

These are questions that cannot be answered or retorted back without extensive research and survey. No one is born an engineer or scientist. It is the propensity and surroundings that make one successful in one's field. I did not take up engineering just because someone asked me to do so. Certain ambitions to work in the field of science and technology drove me to this choice of career. But it is undeniable that social or economic circumstances might not deviate me from pursuing my objective in the years to come. This is how engineers work. Maybe this is how the whole system and process called education works.