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.

....

long time and no updates .heres an attempt to revive my blog which is long dead.....trying to break thru the vicious cycles thriving upon sheer laziness.

just the other day ,blog-hopping, found this amazing piece of doodle.plain brilliant.



p.s-all credits to this doodle goes to mr. kulkarni

beauty lies within

saw an old lady at dadar station begging for alms, with an unforgetable aura arnd her .tried my best to pen down what i saw.....

dark black eyes,
with the covering of cataract;

deep cheeks and a wrinkled face;

thousand small lines,
running deep in every direction;

grey hair with shades of black;

dark pale skin,
burnt by a thousand suns;

teeth some left, pitted and brown;

thick veins flowing deep,
perhaps the only sign of life;


a stick in hand &
a humble rugged nine yard saree.

and then, she gave me that smile:

such energy,such intensity,
such aura ,such charm,
such radiance,i had never seen.

mesmerized i was,for a while
for the beauty that was within,
under the surface it lies
there in the soul,beneath that skin.

......

"Life is a game. God loves the winner, stands by the loser, but hates the viewer. So, be the player."

The Great Indian Dream

I was in a hurry .trying my best to be on time for the lectures.had just skipped breakfast,mom unhappy with it .dad was sipping his morning cup of chai,going thru the newspapers. "make sure u buy the economic times on ur way ,there’s an article u wud love to read ",he said .that look in his eyes and i had a clue,a hint as to what it was.

On my way to the station,I bought the economic times.went thru the headlines although I was walking .naa toggling. ..nothing new ..Ramalinga Raju hogged the headlines with the big irony called "satyam"…my eyes scanned the front page top to bottom.there it lay southwest of the front page.."students ,pros in venture-spirit ",it read.it spoke abt an economic times survey abt the growing entrepreneurship culture in the country.it spoke abt the startup culture in the country,mostly statistics and numbers.about the enthu level in the junta ..i was unhapppy though ,they cud have come up with a better,interesting story.trust me there’s no dearth of it ….

this brings me to a topic I am passionate about “entrepreneurship.”

for someone who has been keenly following this spirit ,the numbers came as no big surprise.India for me has always been a nation of entrepreneurs..right from the next door baniya - to the doodhwala bhaiyya-to the road side vendor-to the humble farmer ,from the cop on the street-to the mafia and the dons ..to some of the biggest communities..but we never took on the world .till tata’s ,ambani’s and murthy’s came along .but this time things are different.we are a game for it.the playing field has been leveled,thanks to globalisation.

For me entrepreneurship is all about the pleasure of creating something new.for urself ,ur team and the society as a whole. i see a generation full of energy,enthusiasm,and that zeal to make it big.there is a buzz about startups in some of the best known universities. the power and simplicity of some of the ideas have left me awestruck .The last bar camp at iit bombay ,I met a 13 year old looking for venture funding! and lets not in any way underestimate the rural population. Its just a matter of time before the bug catches up with them too.And this ain't something that happened overnight. the idea had always been there taking shape in to something concrete..about time,u see a big structure.

these are tough times in the job market with recruitment at an all time low in the recent past.last couple of months the world has seen some of the biggest names in the business history fall down .but in the midst of the crisis lies the big opportunity. its just a matter of following your instincts,taking the road less travelled and grabbing the opportunity with both hands . its heartening to see some already people willing to walk through this tunnel all alone.u cannot wait for the ideal time, for I believe they never come.now is the time to do it.now is the time to take that all important plunge .

back to the ET article ,an important point to note was that more than 60% of junta never took to entrepreneurship for ‘fear’ . I remember talking to one of the lecturers in our college who said it it was just about overcomming this fear which differentiated men from boys .it takes guts to take this calculated risk but then tough decision are to be made along the way.one great man once said if u always played safe, u will never know what it is like to win .i remember this famous dialouge from rocky where he says "fear is like fire within,which can harm u.but if u learn to control it,then it will burn down the opposition.”

As I write this article my pc plays the song “tu dhoop hai ,jham se bikhar; tu hai nadhi ,oh bekhabar; beh chal kahin ,ud chal kahin.....teri toh manzil hai wahin” .i wonder whether I have been intoxicated by possibilities ..u bet I am .

adios.

"Silence and smile are two powerful tools. Smile is the way to solve many problems and silence is the way to avoid many problems...."

The Voice Within Me ....

the very idea of taking the road less travelled has always fascinated me .....this is one of my first poems ,written on this very spirit.

as the class sleeps,
the lecturer in front of me speaks ,
with contribution by some geeks,
there's a voice within me which longs to be heard.


as people around me yawn,
with their concepts thoroughly drown,
some thinking about porn,
there's a voice within me which longs to be heard.

as my patience goes for a ride ,
my temperament thoroughly tried,
with the shattering of my pride,
there's a voice within me which longs to be heard.

as I see,
flash cards being read,
gossips being shared,
no one bothered or cared,
there's a voice within me which longs to be heard.

as I listen to him(the inner voice);

he seems pretty clear ,
about I not belonging here,
he says,with time not on your side,
emotions within you will no longer hide.

stand up,get up,take your stride,
follow your heart, to that chosen ride ,
walk the road less travelled ,
leaving behind everyone settled.

it's all about taking the first step,
it's all about putting thoughts to an effect,
if u happen to think about this whenever,
remember its now or never!

when you take a decision ,you also choose the consequence

mein aur meri kavita-2

the other day i saw a woman running in the middle of the road.in a hurry,carrying something in her hand .and just couple of minutes later i saw a school bus,speeding past me away .the very superposition of these two images ,coupled with some assumptions , gave me goosebumps and led this poem ...

running up the lane,
gasping for breath;
drops of perspiration on her forehead,
that concern in her eyes;
healthy,middle-aged and in a hurry,
was that lady in a saree.

it looked a bit awkward,
running in the middle of the street going upwards.
it looked a bit strange,
looking at those expressions on her face.

and then...

she suddenly stopped in the middle,
helplessly,looking at the school bus;
that vroomed,zoomed and sped away.
and thats when my gaze fell on her hands,
that gripped a tiffin box and a water-bottle,
tightly in their gasp.

awed i stood there looking at her.
not knowing what to say,
not knowing what to do .
thousand emotions running through my mind;
for strange are the forms of a mother's love.

all i did was all i cud
salute that spirit of motherhood...

mein aur meri kavita

this sem i did something which i never thought wud b able to do ...writing poems (nt exactly bt something closer to that )...

being an LLP *(latak latak ke pass )*for the most part of my education career,i never gave it a serious thought ..and still dont ...but then there are circumstances (read :FT ,MATHS lecs ),which forces u to do things and the outcome can be surprising .

my poems are still amatureish ,still kiddish ...but at the end of the day they r mine ...so that doesnt matter ...time will have its due effect of betterment ....

wrote this in one of the maths lecs ...

i carried u for 9 months,
shaping a new soul ,a new life within me;
for the greatest gift of god i was,
which they called -mother .


the first kick,the first sensation,
that radiance,that feel,
every passing moment, i felt every bit of you;
those magic moments i cherished,
bonded me stronger with you.


you filled the void within me ,
with beauty of life,with gallons of love.
perhaps this was the moment in life ,
for which every women thrived.

but then
they called me a prostitute ,a whore;
without really understanding my core.
they called me names -
that wud put a women to shame ;
for surrogate i was,
just b'coz a surrogate i was!

yes there was a compulsion,
for money as i mention.
before reaching a conclusion ,
trust me ,
there was always an element of altrusion.


destiny has its own ways,
for strange rules the creator lays ;
tomorrow u may be miles away,
but for u, my son
my heart will always have a place ...

murga ban ...kaan pakad

apologies for my absence for a long time ....specifically to those who actually gave a visit to this blog in this span of time ..

its not that i had nothin to write , infact i hav lots to say.this whole sem has been gr8...wunderful learning experiences ....and i my next couple of blogs will try and share some of these ....so all u folks get ready for some gyan from the agyani himself ...

10:30hrs IST

focus ..i said.drops of perspiration appearing on my forehead .i was thinking hard .desperately searching through my memory device ,it had to be somewhere there ..i closed my eyes and tried to concentrate ....

24 hrs before.......

i call up vinayak ,a casual call just to check the "enthu level" in the college ....."external aaya nahi hai ...sab log upar baithe hain .."he informed.after a brief discussion about each other's strategic position, we end the call .next one hour passes by just staring at my WST copy as my mind refuses to grasp any thing -it usually doesn't. after lazying around for another two hrs i decide its time to call vinayak for another round of our usual conversation .... i strt off saying the usual" kitna hua??". "phati padi hai yaar . khadus external hai .phaad raha hai ...chandan aur apte ab takk aaye nahin bahar...ek ghanta ho gaya .. suddenly i feel a rush of blood ..knowing i was still not done with even 10%of the syllabus ..

the next couple of hours i try and read as much as i can ...in between call up gurtej ,bhadri and rest of the chaps to know abt the siuation (ppl never do this specially when u r down ...it just adds to ur problems )...it didn't take time to realise that my condition was hopeless ...more bad news flows for the rest of the day as gawde is called again the next day ....the rest of the day flies by without nothing really constructive,concrete .finally at 1 hr past midnight i resign to my fate..hoping to catch up with some sleep

6:00 hrs IST

she arrived right on time .i could see her there, in bright maroon,her lean slender body,that grace.,that aura around her ,what a beauty she was . she approached near... my mind started its usual mechanics and calculations and with an immaculate sense of timing i jumped on to her . my first instinct was to turn right but at the very last second i decide to take a left and with a finish which would put even powell to shame i reach there- u know wat getting a window seat in a local train is difficult believe me .

7:30 hrs andheri stn ...
having reached andheri station on time i heaved a sigh of relief ...finally i was going to be on time ....with mom and dad out of town i had serious doubts abt me getting up on time ...with none of the rick guys ready to come to bhavans ,i decided to walk down...somehow it felt like walking upto a guillotine.. a prisoner about to be beheaded .deep inside i was nervous ..hundreds of thoughts bombarding through my mind ...its a feeling a prey gets just before getting hunted .....the world around me seem to have slowed down ..my god what was happening...

back to original time ..
the problem was ,i had connected the circuits but somehow couldn't recollect how to trigger it.or did i even know how to??i tried hard to ask bhranti on the other table ,but she was too focussed to even entertain .
roll no.39,40,41...called out rjm .the time had come to date the demon ,my first encounter with VIVA's

DATE WITH THE DEMON :
as i entered the room the demon ,one mr. mane was busy taking viva's of the previous group.he just handed me a blank page and said "SMPS". that meant i not only had to draw a diagram of something i never knew was in the syllabus ,even explain it ..."pardon me sir " was all i cud reply back ....SMPS he thundered ...i knew i was dead.

all i knew abt "smps "was that it was used in the CPU ...thats it blank ...i contemplated drawing a cpu and show some part as smps..all this while i cud hear the group before me being butchered.i was trying hard ..to atleast remember the name of the chapter...but was just blank ...

my time had come ,to meet the demon ,eye to eye,man to man ...he was abt middle aged ,dark in complexion, bulky frame ,a bull- doggish face,and yes a
very negative aura arnd him ...

to be contd....

“Performance leads to recognition. Recognition brings respect. Respect enhances power. Humility and grace in one's moments of power enhances dignity of an organisation,”
-n.r.narayana murthy

pain is temporary ...quitting last's forever.

--lance armstrong