Nirmaan

For someone with little interest in the way transistors worked, festivals were one of the best things to happen. It all started in the first year of college. Curios to know what actually happened in these college fest, me and a certain bespectacled Thanekar decided to volunteer for the college festival. Robotics had this big 'it' thing attached with it. So dreaming of building Robos we decided to volunteer for the same event. We happened to pick up thousand bricks from the erstwhile SPCE gymkhana area to the QUAD, do all the laborious work, built a track,bunked classes, had food at shetty's..did almost everything except for building that Robo. But eventually we couldnt help falling in love with this festival..we were in love with Nirmaan..

Infact college was more about festivals and organising events. It gave us a high. It bonded us. It made us happy.Be it anything, picking up bricks to raking in the moolah. To sell almost everything and anything under the sky. to come up with numbers (Badri, remember the LIC pitch?). to wander around juhu beach and convince some gola wala to put up the stall (and to go back months later to juhu and find out the gola wala recognising you and refusing to accept any money). to fool around people only to realise it always came back to bite you in the back. to fight with the system. to come up with weirdo promotional events. to go visit companies and occassionally try and hit on the receptionists, with little success of course ( u see we are engineers). to go live on a radio and goof up big time.to have a night out a day before in college and chill. to spend the night on the college roof and just talk. to sleep in the quad. to have vadapav at the station at 4 in the morning. to go for night publicity, whatever that meant.to leave everything to the last minute. to like never have sufficient money for anything. to constantly seek reimbursement. to see the festival take shape. to live those two days. to thrive in chaos. to see the security junta fight for t shirts. to see harry potter quiz being a supre hit in a technical festival. to see people backing out at the last minute. at the very same time find a new bunch joining in to help out. to understand people. and more than anything else to understand yourself better...and the list goes endless..

I terribly miss college. U actaully realise when u are no longer there. I attended Nirmaan this time. was surprised to find most of the college junta missing. the whole point of me comming out of the slumber and writing this post is to let people know what they are missing. Guys dont, trust me u are missing something big in life. be a part of it.There will be differences. there always will be. its ok. They just add to the clour. But dont let it keep you away. And the lazy -do din chutti mila types- GPL. The loss is urs.trust me, it is. So the next time some of us oldies come to college, i expect a packed quad. And then, we shall together shout Ae Ae Ae Ae hagga...

p.s- nice to know people actually visit this blog. would appreciate if you dropped ina comment. will motivate this lazy ass to pen down his chaotic thoughts occassionaly ..

10 random things..

1. its pouring cats and dogs out here.. and there goes my weekend, washed away. wonder why it doesnt pour torrentially on a weekday, monday should be just fine.
2. started with my job. finished training. hectic. perhaps the only time in my life when i had to leave home before 7 and return back real late for two consecutive weeks..*achievement*.( and pratap i was on time).
3. the work culture is ridiculously simple..just finish the work and go home ..which translates to "stay back till whatever time. do whatever you have to, but get the work done."
4. gradually getting addicted to coffee... coffee shots have been providing great respite.. miss cutting chai though..
5. shopping is a pain..trust me it is..a shopping consultant would really help.(no wonder women and shopping go together)
6. andheri should be the only place in the world, where you pee from the rooftop and it floods.no i m serious.. absolutely pathetic infrastructure..
7. finding a rickshaw to chakala is almost equivalent to the probability of venkatesh prasad bowling at 140 kmph.that should explain.
   
8. miss college... and now that i have mentioned it miss it still more.
9. one of my friends, left for uncle sam's country last week.. couldn't meet her ..bad.. and now the rest to follow her this comming week. doston do well .. all the very best..for once forget abt blondes & brunettes and focus on the job.
10. finally managed to write something *relief*.

khuda hafiz .. take care.

the opportuned and the less opportunate.....

strange were the ways, that baffled him . a dominoe of thoughts taking him down.like always, he was lost.surrendered at the hands of philosophy,the depth of which just got deeper with time.his clueless mind wandered in aimless direction..

"doing people" is a good thing . in fact the best of the things. sometimes it may force you to reflect upon yourself .ask you questions that can trap you in the maze of complexity.throughout the domain of the trip he was privileged to meet some great people. 'her' people, in their own land ;yet in a different world.

miles they had walked .the blackish soil had changed its colour to assume more of a reddish-black shade.the water hardened as they moved interiors,with a diffferent distinct taste.the sun got harsher with the day.the wind maneuvered course often..the nature around was very evident with its variation . change was constant, he thought. untill he found an exception to this rule . it was the rampant lack of opportunities. something that seemed to bind his country men more strongly than their own nationality.


on that dark verandah, a small, grimly lit, 12w bulb was the only source of light. some kids were lazying around.his glance fell upon a boy, sitting in the corner with a small book in his hand, that steely determination in his eyes... what followed was a moment of retrospection. a certain thought nagged him down .. "why he who is opportuned fails to achieve and he who can achieve is less opportunate" he thought...

people came back with souveniors, some with the stick they carried throughout. some with the piece of cloth ,and most with teh memories. he came back with a promise, a promise to come back again some day, to opportune the less opportunate....

p.s- this is just a collection of randomly scribbled thoughts without much of a flow. the author is not 2 be blamed for the sense-less-ness of the post.

of a man among boys

chapewadi. A small village on the foothills of the mighty Sahyadris. Nine punters. A map. A compass. And yes bagful of khakras. They passed by a local school. It was about time for the mid-day meal. The punters entered the school building . A single classroom comprised of 7 classes. Children seated on the floor,grouped accordingly. The walls were painted with typically offwhite chuna. Leakages from the top were quiet visible . Random charts hung from the walls. A small picture of the father of the nation and a small portrait of goddess saraswati thronged the side walls. Two teachers manned the classroom . Equally clueless as the punters were...

The punters wanted to interact with the kids. Spend some time.But the kids looked intimidated. Secretly suspecting whether it was the much dreaded inspection. one of the punters offered them sweets . none of the kids moved forward.refusing to accept. A moment of stillness prevailed.but soon was to pass by. The silence was overpowered by too strong an urge to enjoy the sweet.too tempting and yes a rarity indeed. perfectly human i thought,watching from the sidelines. Quickly, the kids surrounded the punter offering sweets. I looked on.A smile on my face. Enjoying this small moment of "happyness".

He stood there, away from the crowd. At first looked just another kid.Thin,short and wheatish in complexion.impeccably dressed in the khakis. hair heavily oiled and neatly combed. a dot of vermilion on the forehead. holding a slate in one hand and a jhola with the other.something u could not ignore was the innocence that hit you like the rays from the thousand suns .he was glued to the free food on offer.in a subtle way his eyes tracing his friends and the chaos therein. you could sense that strong craving in his eyes too . but unlike the rest he was not going to create a commotion.the immense self respect far more overpowering than what was on offer.he shook his head and left. before i could realise, i was stung by the dignity on display. stumped by the mature head on such a young shoulder. i stood there fixed to the ground,still trying to come to terms with what had hit me .....

The punters took the leave and left . walked many a miles. visited many a schools . interacted with lots of children . but few a breed like him.. they were indeed rare to find. for they were men among boys.

adios.

vijay diwas

these brave soldiers who fought the kargil war on mountaineous terrains 16,000 ft above the sea level and under adverse climatic conditions .the least we can do is remember them and pay our humble salutations ....

Random Quote

"no power can stop an idea whose time has come ....."

-Victor Hugo.

humbled

After hours of ascend, you are finally atop Mhasai. A plateau range, as flat as it can get, giving you the majestic view of the mighty sahyadris .Standing der on the edge,overlooking the beautiful green ocean, every drop of perspiration on the forehead seems worth the effort. A smile appears on ur face. Ders dis feeling of being on top of the world. A slender arrogance of having conquered, achieved something. . You begin to dwell on this new found sense of accomplishment, on a high.

By this time the sun is almost at the horizon. A river of red slowly makes its way across the vast white ocean above . u notice, a sudden surge of dark clouds ,rushing towards you. the breezing cool wind gets stronger. threatening to overpower . It roars, almost to the point of being deafening . u look in awe as he paints the reddened white canvas with shades of black. u look upon, as he works on a range of hues, the canvas getting increasingly darker. You are lost. Engulfed by a barrage of emotions, resonating in the mindspace. For a moment or two you are even Scared. u continue to stare at the magnificent work of art. There is a restless surge within, still trying to come in terms with the enormity on witness.u begin wonder whether a lifetime would suffice to understand the magnitude of the artistic brilliance on display. what follows is a moment of serenity.a sense of calmness prevails. Peace. In a subtle way,he puts across the message.. You realize how insignificant you are. you are humbled by his grandeour. plain humbled. the smile resurfaces on ur face.

Amen.