Knock, Knock ... Who's there ??

The exams ... THAT's who !!! That murderous, monstrous presence, that keeps pushing hapless students to the very brink of insanity. Not surprisingly, the consumption of midnight oil has already sky-rocketed and at this rate we will soon need solar power to carry us through the exhausting array of examinations .... oops, sorry about that. I realise that was a little lame, to say the least. But, when exams are around the corner, such seemingly terrific "PJ"s are very often the only outlet to our frustrations, and can therefore, be forgiven. The practice may have serious repercussions on the health of the onlookers, but for the man delivering it, there is nothing sweeter than to see countenances blackened by the audacity of the latest "onslaught".

In fact, it is rather in fashion these days, as a harmless - or rather, a RELATIVELY harmless - "stress-reliever" (when you compare it with the other "vices" that is) affording a few precious moments of joy in an otherwise mundane and exam-ridden atmosphere. Wherever there is a gathering of sorts, of exam-se-frust junta, and you happen to be an "innocent" onlooker, you are greeted by raucous laughter at the weakest of jokes, or even better, a deathly silence after an especially excruciating PJ. It is then, and only then, that you realise the true potential of "the art of PJ-cracking". Making people laugh, is fast becoming the most coveted short-cut to fame and fortune, with television shows aiming to pounce on the newest formula - laughter is the best medicine. So the next time you hear a weak imitation of a bar-girl in a phone booth, or a take on the happy and gay, Karan Johar, you'd know laughter shows are very much on the rise.

And thus, I come to the end of yet another "commercial break" in the run-up to my exams. Wish me luck !!

Of aching limbs and blissful slumber ....

That's how i would describe my day today. First, we had a breathless game of football, quite customary these days, followed by a brisk but incredibly refreshing shower. The legs, however, seem to have a mind of their own, refusing to budge even at the sternest commands issued from my central nervous system. And even when they do, it is a kind of grudging submission. The net result - I can be seen dragging my feet along the corridor of my wing, with a shuffling gait of a cripple rather than a college-going student. Yet, in a vague masochistic way, one tends to enjoy this onset of muscle fatigue as it makes you feel so undeniably ALIVE ... they say you need to experience sadness to appreciate true joy. In a similar vein, you need to experience utter exhaustion in order to truly feel the enjoyment of sound sleep. And sure enough it comes...

In the meantime, there was a game going on - a game of cricket that was strictly not for the weak-hearted. Yeah, you guessed it right, I am talking about the Ashes, and the game in question, the astonishing fourth test held at Trent Bridge. It had all the ingredients of the vintage Ashes - two evenly-matched teams bent on getting an upper hand on the other, and consequently some frayed nerves, and rising tempers. A rampaging England squad that refused to lie down and allow history to repeat itself. Instead they gave back some of what they got from the Aussies - aggression, athleticism, tenacity. All of a sudden, the world champions were left scratching their heads in disbelief at the "new-found" English determination - something they have not faced in a while. As the saying goes - "fortune favours the brave" and the result is there for all to see. At a time when Indian sport is discovering new lows everyday, these inconsequential results form the only cause for cheer for an Indian sports enthusiast. I say inconsequential, because there is little reason for us, Indians, to take pleasure in the fall of arguably one of the greatest teams to have graced the stage of Test Cricket. However, that is the sad state we find ourselves in.

Without pondering over the futility of it all, I would like to answer the urgent requests of these aching limbs of mine, and call it a day. Sleep, that blissful and sometimes enigmatic entity is looming large on my horizon. Good Night.

the thrills of hostel life ...

Yesterday was quite an eventful day for me. Firstly, I woke up late yet again for class and gave it up as a lost effort as soon as my eyes fell on the clock. It was a class that I shouldn't have missed as I had woken up before time on this occasion, but such is the attractive nature of the classes we have, I went back to sleep as soon as I realised this fact. The result: I slept for the remaining hours before lunch and woke up just in time for the lab I had in the afternoon. A lab in which everyone bar the teacher knows what is going on - and somehow having spent the last three years over here, that doesn't come as a surprise. The lab is aptly named too - OOPs - that last letter a fitting addition bringing to the fore the futility of the exercise. I'm sure you too would agree on this point, when I tell you that the subject is named "Object Oriented Programming" and the teacher comes to the class everyday, armed with the humungous vocabulary of ONE word -- and no points for guessing that the word is "objects", of course. Now you didn't think any different did you, coz if you did, you would be woefully underestimating what our teachers are capable of. Under his skilful supervision, what had appeared to be a course that promised to hold our interest, is turned into quite a farcical affair with the students dodging an endless volley of "objects".

The lab is equally farcical in its NON-applicability to any modern methods of thinking and is concluded as soon as the teacher steps out, having completed his pretty innocuous question-answer session. For once, we were not complaining though, as the prospect of a football match in the pouring rain looms large. Quite a lip-smacking proposition I must say, as even the most skilful of players are reduced to mere bystanders in the bewitching nature of the turf. The game didn't disappoint either with plenty of sliding and falling, and seemed to resemble a game of water-polo more than soccer for the most part. But then, who cares, when students of all shapes and sizes can indulge in an hour of carefree banter without the slightest worry in their heads. For a final year that definitely comes at a premium, at a time when preparation for various competitive exams occupy foremost importance.

We emerge from the footer field, dripping wet, but with huge smiles on our faces as each of us relish the prospect of a rejuvenating shower after such a rolling in the mud. The next few minutes are spent in casual chit-chat as we try and "analyse" the game, each participant trying to keep a straight face even in face of the apparent absurdity of the proposition. The exercise was doomed to failure even before it had started and soon the hilarity of the situation overcomes one and all and we burst out laughing.

The next few hours whizz past as we manage to take showers, have dinners and settle comfortably into our chairs or beds as the case may be. The night, like many nights before, appeared headed for the same monotonous routine - hours of "jhandaoing" interspersed with occasional bhaat sessions and mid-night snacks courtesy one Mr. Carlos. However, a spanner materialised from nowhere, and flew into the works, throwing all carefully-made plans into abject disarray. POWERCUT !!!

For the modern students of IIT Kharagpur, a powercut symbolises their worst night-mares coming true. In the absence of this life-force, the techonology that drives the generation comes to a jarring halt. The people who are used to spending 99% of their time in front of the computer screen are rendered, in one horrifying moment, completely "jobless". Or so we thought. The time we spent in its absence yesterday night, however, will form one of the most lasting memories of this place at least for me. Where else can you even think of "moonlight footer", let alone play it. Where else can you lie beneath the open sky and spend hours gazing in speechless awe at its ephemeral beauty. Where else can you spend time laughing and joking with your closest friends with not a care in the world.

I love hostel life. And that's why.

Musings ...

Just felt like writing, so here I am. These days I am really busy with music practices as the Foundation Day production of ETMS (Eastern Technology Music Society for the uninitiated) is just around the corner. In many ways, my being a part of this is like a dream come true, as ever since my first year -- as I took my first tremulous steps down the path of IIT life -- the ETMS was like the pinnacle of musical excellence. I was an aspiring singer at that time, having never had the courage to even hold a guitar in my hands while I was in school. Instead I concentrated solely on singing, even though I wasn't all that good at it. Hence, the auditions of the ETMS presented a window of opportunity for me, as I wanted nothing better than to croon those notes in front of a cheering audience. The feeling, I was sure, would be heady, and as if caught up in the frantic race for recognition, I dreamt on. The much-vaunted plans never saw the light of day, however, as due to certain unforeseen circumstances I couldn't even attend the auditions, let alone get selected. Hence, the ETMS remained what it represented to me at the time - a Mt. Everest that was to be looked up to, but that lay out of reach of the mere mortal that was me.

That was in my first year -- when I was still unsure of my surroundings, unsure of my abilities as a musician and most of all, unsure of my future. I had secured a less-than-noteworthy rank in the JEE and hence had to bear the ignominy of studying in the Department of Mathematics that epitomised the fears of many an innocent onlooker. I was not sure whether I would ever be able to perform on the same stage as some of the best musicians of Kharagpur. I wasn't even sure I would be able to cope up with the pressures of studying in one of the toughest departments of the Institute, at least in terms of grades. Or so I thought.

Three years down the line, and things have taken an altogether different hue. I have managed to not only touch the pinnacle that is the ETMS but am actually involved in a major way. And that too as a guitarist. There were times during this long "graduation" when I felt lost, and was tempted to give it all up. However, I realise now that the fact that I did not get into the society earlier than this has actually been a blessing in disguise. It gave me more time to come to terms with my instrument and made me a better musician. Of course the constant exchange of ideas with perhaps the most gifted musician of my batch, one Mr. Kartik Varadpande, was a tremendous boost for me at every stage and for that I am extremely grateful.

They say, "Failures are the stepping-stone to success" -- and not without reason too....

A game of Hyd-and seek ??

It has been a really long time since i last blogged ... and the last time i had attempted it i had been put off by a truant keyboard with the most infuriating space bar that completely disrupted my thought process. So I thought maybe the higher forces of nature have something to do with this and maybe the Gods willed me not to blog. But this time there appears to be no such barrier between me and my long-lost friend- the blogger. So here i am. There was a time not-so-long-ago when i had started blogging with such frequency that not a day went by when i had not put a word online (as opposed to putting pen to paper that is) ... The increasing obsession with the blog was a little frightening when it happened and in retrospect i think it was a blessing in disguise that there was a break in it when it mattered ...

my major reason in blogging was to give vent to some of the pressures that i was under at that point of time ( read organisation of one phenomenon called Spring Fest ) .... and frankly speaking it was effective in that particular aspect ... of course there was the occasional tit-bit about the latest raging debates of campus life and some particularly unpleasant experiences in the classroom ... but let me come back to the point ... this summer i was in hyderabad for a two-month summer training in CCMB ... for the unintiated that spells out as Center for Cellular and Molecular Biology ... the work was hectic to say the least, with 6-day-weeks, and hours extending quite often beyond what is considered human hours ... but guess what ??? i actually enjoyed it ... i mean ever since i set foot in kgp i have got more and more disillusioned with academics or anything remotely associated with it ... and in this i was aided quite a lot by my dept and the sometimes appalling atrocities that go on over there in the name of teaching ... of what is supposed to be the "purest" of the sciences ... and in the midst of all the bitterness that was welling inside of me like a volcano about to erupt, this period in CCMB was like a breath of fresh air ... i WORKED more than i have in the last 3 years of college life ... but more importantly i LEARNT more than i have in the last three years in kgp ... and at the end of it i actually felt i have gained an invaluable insight into what i think i want to do in the future ... that i can safely say is something i had no idea about even a few months ago ... but this was not all ...

during this time i also had a chance to interact with a lot of people coming from a lot of different backgrounds ... summer trainees all, from all corners of the country, but amazingly like-minded in a lot of things ... we had a number of musical sessions accompanied by my old friend, the guitar, and a number of eager, if uncertain, voices ... its amazing how powerful music can be in breaking the ice between people ... one moment u have relative strangers sitting around in an awkward silence ... and the very next moment u have an enthusiastic bunch of people swaying to the strains of a well-known tune ... i guess music appeals to the sub-conscious and brings out feelings that would otherwise have lain below the surface ... hence i had people who considered themselves as "bathroom singers", opening up and singing along to some melodies, quite oblivious to whether it sounded off-key or not ... and somehow none of us seemed to mind ... coz at such times it is the emotions that matter and not the exactness of the tune or any of those rigid frameworks that exist in music ... that is when we actually realise the true significance of music as a force that binds ... a cohesive force that pervades barriers and opens the mind to the beauty of the world around us ...

all-in-all it was a great experience ... one that i would be eager to repeat given another opportunity ... and definitely one that i will never forget ...

Done and Dusted ....

All good things come to an end. The excitement is over for the year as far as KGP is concerned. Spring Fest is over. And so is its techno-managerial relative, Kshitij. What remains behind is a void which I am not sure anything ... and I mean anything ... can ever fill.

Especially so for me as I was so involved in the whole thing . The responsibility of seeing through a fest of the magnitude of Spring Fest is a scary one at best. However, as soon as I was elected to be the upholder of the age-old tradition I felt proud that I was entrusted with the responsibility. Of course there were moments of doubt .... when the sky seemed to be caving in and nothing seemed to be going right, but thanks to the people who were there to share the responsibility I never lost the focus ... and for that I am grateful. SF, as we call it, could never be allowed to suffer and before that ultimate objective there was no space for individual gratification or petty politics. Of course there have been times in the past when the fest has seen both of these and needless to say it was the fest that had suffered. However, the Spring Fest 2005 team did not ever want to have such regrets. Hence, from day one the emphasis was on how to work together to get a better SF. As it happens with any team we had our differences. However these were never allowed to assume a threatening shape. Good sense prevailed in the end and the results are for all to see. A kick-ass fest ... and levels of perfection that we had only dreamed of achieving when we had started off on this long journey ...

The juggernaut rolls on ....