SLAB

A must read for business consultants: The Lords of Strategy

2011-05-17T01:22:00.001+05:30

I believe that innovation in some ways can be traced to the fruition of a revolution of different proportions. Business strategy, and its ascension, was the corporate revolution of the last century: this revolution resulted in companies becoming more aware of ways to maximise their internal processes and practices, as well as learn from external factors and steps taken by competitors. The book, The Lords of Strategy, follows the entire revolution of corporate strategy from beginning to its present stage.

The author, Walter Kiechel III, states that the rise of strategy actually quashed the belief that ideas do not matter in business. It was strategy and its manifestation which allowed companies to give due respect to innovative ideas, which resulted in great business solutions being developed thanks to these ideas. For me, a personal interest in the subject arises from my own association with Bain & Company, one of the leading global strategy consulting firms.

The book begins by supporting the strain of intellect in business, and proposing that the power of ideas runs business as fundamentally as the three C’s of cost, competition and customers. With the advent of strategy, the book describes a pursuit for Greater Taylorism: more numbers, more data and more tools in the hands of corporate honchos.

Kiechel then traces the story of the four men who invented corporate strategy i.e. the pioneers of the consulting industry. The creators of Bain (Bill Bain) and BCG (Bruce Henderson), the long-time serving MD of McKinsey (Fred Gluck) and respected Harvard Business School Professor Michael Porter, in their individual ways, instigated a shift in the business industry which transformed the way we work today.

The author enunciates that if we were to look at the history of strategy through the years, it can be defined by the three P’s of positioning, processes and people. Initially strategy was looked upon by companies as a way of improving your positioning vis-à-vis competition, later it became a tool to improve processes and finally in its present state, strategy is all about the people in the organisation, and finding ways and means to keep them motivated and positively engaged.

The book deals with innovations in strategy and its far-reaching implications in the corporate world. Some of the highlights:
- The strategy revolution has lead to ‘Greater Taylorism’, with more number crunching and information research has bulldozed its way across the corporate landscape.
- The story behind the foundation of BCG reveals the concept of competition and positioning. The team at BCG also began the concept of holding ‘business conferences’, which were by-invitation only. An often used concept today, the initial idea behind creating a business conference was to create more knowledge about business practices as well as to develop the brand.
- Important business tools which were identified by the author as introduced by BCG include the Experience Curve for declining costs, the BCG matrix for identifying successful businesses etc.
- Similar business tools used by Bain, McKinsey and Michael Porter are also discussed by the author. These tools include Bain’s Net Promoter Score, McKinsey’s 7-S Framework and Michael Porter’s Five Forces Analysis.
- Strategy’s true purpose is then proposed by Kiechel as the gain of shareholder wealth. The author also strongly believes that it was this value proposition of strategy and business consulting which led to leveraged buyout firms (or the PE firms of today).
- There’s also a brief discussion on how greed resulting in the global financial crisis and the reasons for the failure of the strategists.
- Strategy has now become the lynchpin for the act of business and the central pivot around which corporate intellect has been shaping the world as we know it today.

Given my personal interest in learning about the history of strategy consulting, the book makes for a veritable landmine of information. In addition, I have been truly enlightened by some of the innovations which were discussed at length by the book. It is difficult to imagine what corporate life would have been today, if not for the innovations propounded by the ‘lords of strategy’.

A social entrepreneur true to her salt: Ela Bhatt

2011-05-17T01:03:00.001+05:30

Ela Bhatt’s name is one of the names which are synonymous with social entrepreneurship in India, given that it has been 28 years since she founded Self Employed Women’s Association (Sewa) in Gujarat – today, Sewa is present in eight states in India. A lesser known fact perhaps is that Sewa has been working across Afghanistan, Nepal, Bangladesh and even Pakistan. Also, Ela Bhatt had helped in the launch of Women’s World Banking in 1979.

So, why did I choose Ela Bhatt as the social entrepreneur to write about? Looking into her early days, it can be said that she had a stable life – daughter of a successful law practitioner, she worked in the Gujarat government for a while before joining the legal department of the Textile Labour Association (TLA). It was during her time at TLA that she was asked to head the women’s wing, where she observed that thousands of female textile workers who were self-employed were not protected by state laws.

I feel it is commendable that Ms. Bhatt decided to take it upon herself to form a union for these self-employed women, given her cosy position in life and also at a time in India’s history when empowerment for women was far from being a household term. An interesting aspect of Sewa is its two-dimensional goals of self-employment and self-reliance, which have been borne out of the Gandhian principles of satya, ahimsa, sarvadharma and khadi.

If we look at using a framework to describe the social venture, we could argue that Sewa is an ‘Instrumental’ organization that is based on ‘Demand Rationale’. This is partly because Sewa is an instrument which provides formal rights for self-employed women working in the informal sector, and partly because it caters to the needs and demands of a niche group, which is about 94% of the total female labour force in India.

Another reason which dictates my choice is the scale of the impact that Ms. Bhatt has achieved with Sewa: from 1,017 members in Gujarat at time of its inception in 1972, Sewa has today grown to include 966,139 members all over the country, with about half of the members living in states outside Gujarat.

Even at the age of 77, Ela Bhatt continues to contribute, selected as one of ‘The Elders’ by Nelson Mandela. Along with the other members, she will be resolving conflicts and taking on seemingly insurmountable problems. No wonder that she is looked upon by several women as their saviour.

This article was submitted by me as an assignment for the elective on Social Entrepreneurship at WIMWI in September 2010.

Sources: Outlook Business Feature: Lady with the Bank by Rajiv Bhuva (Sep 05, 2009); Self Employed Women’s Association, retrieved from www.sewa.org

An AITian at heart

2011-05-17T00:45:00.003+05:30

For the last five years, Srijna has always seen a contribution from my pen without fail. This time, I thought I would not have anything substantial to write home about, until I sat down for a chat with Chatty Sir – a senior at AIT (BE E&TC, 2007) and now a batchmate during my post-grad. With our convocation only a handful of days away, he asked me which one I will miss more: my post-grad college or AIT. Within a heartbeat, I replied, “AIT, of course!”

The answer was very simple because there is a very strong sense of belonging when it comes to AIT. A short visit back to the campus, late last year, inspired in me a feeling of homecoming of sorts. I had truly yearned to be back at the place where I actually learnt to live life. I longed for those days when life was all about late-night bakar sessions, lan gaming and surfing, battles over Aakriti, inter-college fest-hopping, flank parties, flank matches, fence climbing, in-times, bike bans, OAC hangouts and scraping through the requisite attendance for each semester. No matter how much we cribbed about the lack of water, electricity and other basic amenities in both NBH and OBH (especially), I would give my right arm to be back at AIT and do it all over again.

I realise now that all the small quirks that we picked up in the first few days, when our heads were shaven and our eyes bashfully averted to the third-buttons of our shirts, remain ingrained in our persona for time immemorial. The will to endure and the spirit to fight back each day are one of the first few things that I internalised at AIT. And then, there were those small nuggets of wisdom you would pick up from any senior-talk you listened in to. Whenever I am part of any conversation with old friends, which is strongly accentuated with words like ‘fight’, ‘bakar’ and the like, a huge smile lights up my face as my thoughts drift to AIT and all the fun we had.

And, the friends you make! No matter how far across the globe you travel, or where you might be working, it’s your old AIT friends whom you will call up at any time of the day and whose houses you will arrive at unannounced in the middle of the night. It is the same group of friends that stood shoulder-to-shoulder with you when you were in a tight spot with your back to the wall, and the same set of people who celebrated with you when you managed to ‘clear’ the exams. I wistfully remember the number of times that friends would back me up, no matter what. It wouldn’t matter whether you were in the right or wrong, you were in trouble and that is all that mattered. Of course, I would admit that my seemingly-unbiased love for AIT is also inspired by a romantic inclination which is well known. However, that is a part of the point I am trying to make here.

Every AITian marches out of the college with a strong passion burning in her/his heart. For some, the passion will be for a cause. For others, it might be towards a sport. Yet another group of people would feel passionately about their work. And almost everybody who passes out of our college learns to feel passionately about the people around them, and fiercely at that. It is this very essence of AIT that separates it from other colleges – many of them much more prestigious, but lacking in that bond and uniqueness of AITians, that transcend hostels, branches, and batches, even.

In today’s world, everything is a rat race. At AIT, you feel impervious to the world outside. Or, at least I did while I was there. The passion that I just spoke about allowed me to get out of bed every morning and look forward to another fulfilling day, which I would spend in the way I deemed to be the most appropriate. The sense of belonging which I mentioned earlier stemmed from the knowledge that I was free to let my passion-driven choices rule my day. It gave me the freedom to experiment and explore to find what suited me best.

AIT is my true alma mater. Over the last six years (collectively) of my graduate and post-graduate education, while academically I would attribute more importance to the last two, it was the first four which have actually been the formative years for being the person I am today. AIT might not have directly led me to where I am headed today, but it is the backbone on which I have been moulded into shape through experiences of several kinds. And, I am eternally grateful for it.

In the words of Mae West, “They say you only live once. But if you do it right, once is enough.” Being an AITian is more than enough.

Harry Potter, the leader...

2010-09-07T23:47:00.004+05:30

Harry Potter – the boy who lived. Rather, if you will agree with my saying so - the boy who loved.

Harry has been able to redefine leadership with a completely different and charming approach to the art of being a leader. Rowling’s magical character is a hero like no other, with his heart dictating terms at each and every step. This quality of the young wizard makes him fearless, even while facing the greatest of adversities imaginable.

A leader searing with vibrant passion and a strong moral compass, Harry is no angel - he has had his fair share of ungainly moments. But even in times when he has picked the wrong battles and made unpopular decisions, Harry was true to his heart and his sense of right versus wrong.

It is no wonder then that he was an endearing leader for everyone who looked to him for guidance. Let’s take a closer look at how Harry Potter the boy transformed into the wizard who conquered the toughest dark wizard to have ever threatened wizardkind.

Harry’s story begins from the village of Little Hollow where his young parents were living in hiding, aware that the life of their one year-old son was in jeopardy. Earmarked by fate as a future leader even before he was born, Harry was prophesised to share a special connection with the evil Lord Voldemort who was usurping power in the wizarding world at the time. Fearful of Harry bringing an end to his reign, Voldemort endeavoured to kill him as a small child, and nip the danger in the bud.

In a bid to protect her son, Harry’s mother Lily made the ultimate sacrifice which bestowed on him a special protection – that of true love. It helped him to evade death at the hands of the Dark Lord and catapulted Harry to stardom at the age of one. There was a burden of expectations placed on little Harry and hordes of people looked upon him as a saviour. Not unlike the commoners’ perception of ‘Maid’ Joan of Arc, although Harry was much younger and had no idea of what was going on at the time.

Albus Dumbledore, who would eventually become a mentor and a friend to Harry, realised that Harry’s true potential as a leader could only be realised if he grew up far away from the wizarding world. Harry’s days with his relatives, the Dursleys, prepared him to understand what it was like to be at the suffering end of the food chain, and would work in his favour in the future as he learnt to appreciate the sensitivities of others.

After Harry turned eleven and the wizarding world was opened to him, he showed a great interest in learning as much as he could about things he never imagined possible and a tenacity to cope with all the adulation and speculation surrounding his name. At the sorting ceremony at Hogwarts, Harry displayed for the first time his ability to choose between right and wrong, as he fervently implored the sorting hat not to place him in Slytherin. The fact that he was eventually placed in Gryffindor was an indication of Harry’s courage and positive leadership qualities.

In the course of his first year at school, Harry developed strong bonds of friendship, with Ron, Hermione and Hagrid in particular, which would accompany him throughout his life and eventually mould him as a leader. On the Quidditch pitch, Harry displayed a keen sense of initiative as the seeker and this served him well in his future leadership role as well. When Harry realised that Hagrid was in trouble because of a pet dragon, he went out of the way to help him regardless of the fact that he might get into trouble himself – which he eventually did, and had to go into the dark Forbidden Forest as punishment.

When danger approached near the end of term, Harry displayed great courage and a sense of responsibility as he prepared to stop Voldemort from taking the philosopher’s stone. From Ron and Hermione’s insistence on accompanying him, Harry learnt a great deal about loyalty. Another intriguing aspect about Harry’s brand of leadership is the unselfishness of his pure heart – this could be seen when the Mirror of Erised gave him the stone because Harry did not want to find the stone for any selfish gain, but simply with the aim of finding the stone. Even as a young man, he only looked at the finish line and never wavered from the path – just like Arjuna from the Mahabharata, who only saw the eye of the fish.

The second year witnessed Harry getting off on the wrong foot – a misplaced adventure in a flying car as a result of childish innocence and a spell from the house-elf, Dobby. Here again, we saw the compassion in Harry as he treated the house-elf with a certain level of camaraderie rather than looking down on him with disdain as the rest of the wizarding world. As Harry learnt more about the life of young Tom Riddle and also the fact that he himself was able to speak to snakes, he learnt how to be able to digest surprising facts and take them along in his stride. He also owned up for his mistake and risked his life for the well-being of Ron’s sister, Ginny. In the heat of the battle, he demonstrated great loyalty for his mentor Dumbledore and supreme valour as he pulled Gryffindor’s sword out of the magical hat.

In his third year, Harry was faced with death omens and he again exhibited great tenacity by pushing it all to the background and concentrating on his education and Quidditch. Remus Lupin, a good friend of Harry’s father, was introduced in this book and he became another important mentor to Harry, teaching him to master a very complex spell, the Patronus. Harry became close to Lupin, however it was his father’s best friend, Sirius Black, whom Harry met for the first time at the end of the school year - an escaped convict and wrongly accused of betraying Harry’s parents, Sirius was Harry’s godfather and they grew very close in the years to follow.

The last of his father’s friends, Peter Pettigrew, was then found to be the traitor responsible for his parents’ deaths. Harry again showed great compassion and the qualities of a leader well past his age, by forgiving Pettigrew and imploring Sirius and Lupin to let him escape. Overjoyed at being called his ‘father’s son’ by Sirius, Harry was clearly a leader who deeply felt the absence of his parents from his life, and felt a sense of pride whenever someone mentioned he closely resembled his father, James, or that his eyes were the same green as his mother, Lily.

For Harry, the next year was a whirlwind experience which began with the scare at the Quidditch World Cup, when the Death Eaters ran amuck and Harry began to share dreams with a resurgent Voldemort. Harry was pitched into the Triwizard Tournament without any intention or inclination to enter himself; however once he was competing he put up a fine exhibition of sportsmanship. In the task involving the dragon, he showed great resourcefulness which every leader should aspire for, and also used Mad-Eye Moody’s advice to good effect. When it came to the next task in the lake, he again showed how great a leader he was – he virtually forfeited his chance of winning because he attempted to rescue the others’ hostages as well.

In the course of the year, there were attempts to malign him publicly by the reporter Rita Skeeter, and he took it in his stride as every great leader has done in the past. He also had to contend with constant bickering between Ron and Hermione, and there was a period when he and Ron himself had a fallout. Harry grew even more as a leader through the course of this year, with Dumbledore, Sirius, Lupin and Hagrid all giving him sound advice. More importantly, Harry presented to all of us how to put good advice to good use.

During the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, Harry found himself unwittingly transported to witness the rebirth of the Dark Lord Voldemort. Although he had to face the cold-blooded death of Cedric Diggory, although he was outnumbered many-to-one by the Death Eaters and although he faced a situation from which no one had a hope of coming out alive, Harry persevered and fought his way out of the graveyard and back to Hogwarts. A true leader was born at that moment, even as the dark villain was reborn.

After Voldemort’s return, Harry had to face some really tough times. Most people refused to believe what he had seen, and the Ministry of Magic branded him a liar. Although Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix rallied around and began to prepare a counterattack on Voldemort, Harry felt like an outcast. The fact that he shared visions with Voldemort made him appear a liability to Dumbledore as well, and there were so many times when Harry was kept out of the loop. However, a true leader does not allow circumstances to dictate him, and Harry did just that. He formed his own unit – Dumbledore’s Army. He was in his element as a leader, and everyone under his leadership truly believed in Harry and everything that he represented.

When Harry saw a vision where Sirius was being tortured, his pure heart led him into a trap set by Voldemort. Young Harry did a commendable job leading his troops in the face of certain death, and no one from the Dumbledore’s Army was critically injured. However, Harry had to deal with another death in his young life – Sirius Black, to whom Harry had grown so close over the past two years.

Dumbledore as a mentor again proved to be a great foil for Harry, as he calmed Harry’s initial outburst and thirst for avenging Sirius’ death. It was then that Harry learnt about the prophecy, and had to steel himself to accept the fact that it would only be one of him and Voldemort that would go on to live at the end. In the next one year, Harry learnt a lot more from Dumbledore about Voldemort and also about the horcruxes. Dumbledore’s death, apparently at the hands of Snape, was the final blow to Harry before he knew it was time for the final contest.

As a strong-willed leader, Harry made the final decision to go on his path alone, leaving school and even his love for Ginny behind. Ron and Hermione refused to leave his side and Harry was thankful for their support and friendship. In their search for horcruxes, they again tasted several ups and downs, but Harry’s leadership, persevering spirit and pure heart willed them to go on. Harry could have embarked on a quest for the Hallows, but he resisted, showing greater willpower than Dumbledore.

Despite Ron and Hermione’s help, despite the house-elf Dobby’s sacrifice, despite Snape’s efforts to protect him, despite Neville’s act of bravery in killing the final horcrux and despite everything that Dumbledore had done in preparation; in the end, it was left to Harry Potter to defeat Voldemort.

This he accomplished – with his pure heart, loyalty, determination, true love and the goodwill of thousands of people. The boy who lived was eventually victorious, and proclaimed a great leader at such a young age, because he was the boy who loved.

Painting the other side of the picture

2010-08-19T16:34:00.002+05:30

How many news reports have we read about wailing mothers, and the trauma they are faced with because of the death of their teenage sons to the security forces in Kashmir? Haven’t we seen a number of national news bulletins condemning the Army for the death of these ‘innocent’ bystanders while their family mourns its great loss? The media, however, paints only one side of the picture.

The soldier posted at the nation’s frontiers, braving the high altitude and freezing conditions in addition to unfriendly fire everyday: he has a family too. The man fighting for the country against militants in Kashmir, Assam and Arunachal Pradesh: he has a mother at home too, counting down the long empty days before she can see her son again. The Army man killed by insurgents and militants: he also has a father at home, dreading the day when someone will arrive at his door with a folded flag and his departed son’s empty green cap. Yes, the Army men are young boys too!

It is really astonishing that some people (and the media in particular) find sadistic pleasure in degrading the name of the Indian Army. It is because of these men holding fort for national security that the common man goes about doing his daily business, subconsciously content that there are people protecting our national borders. However, when it comes to pointing fingers and slinging mud, no one remembers that anymore.

Every now and then, there is a small column in the newspaper about the deaths of a handful of our soldiers, caught in the line of fire during a counter-insurgency operation. The news item is treated as commonplace, an everyday affair which merits not even a minute’s attention of the discerning reader. However, God forbid that a young starlet celebrate her birthday without screen time of a day at least, with front page coverage in all the newspapers.

In this day and age of sensationalism and tabloid media, feelings of pride and patriotism are restricted to the national anthem displayed at the beginning of the show for every cinemagoer. While there was a time when little kids used to come running out and salute an Army vehicle passing-by, today the media is teaching us to be wary and fearful of our own protectors. While we must admit that like any other organisation, the Army is bound to have a couple of bad eggs here and there; but we should restrain from using a broad brush to paint the entire institution red.

Spare a thought for the families of these brave men (both young and old). Ask yourself if your heart does not go out to the soldier’s mother, reaching a point of despair while waiting expectantly for her little boy to come back up the garden path; to the father putting up a strong facade of courage but crying in his heart that he cannot protect his son from the bullets of the enemy no matter how he wishes to; to the wife looking out the window with hope and a prayer for her sweetheart to be safe; to the children wanting to share more than just fleetingly brief moments of their childhood with their father.

Most of all, spare a thought for the young soldier who has sacrificed his family, friends – his life – for the service of the motherland; for the Army man who is driven not by personal motive, but by the call from his country; for the soldier who trudges up the path without any light at the end of the tunnel and lays down his life for the country with two words on his lips: ‘Jai Hind’!

End of the beginning at IIMA

2010-04-02T09:57:00.003+05:30

(Check back for update)

AIT flavour at Chaos 2010

2010-03-16T12:33:00.010+05:30

It's been over a month-and-a-half since the Annual Cult Fest of IIMA (www.iima-chaos.com/), and my most memorable moments from the extravaganza were pretty similar to what I was used to in undergrad - watching the choreo team from my alma mater bring the house down!

Reddy & Co. responded enthusiastically to my out-of-the-blue invite for the inter-college fest at WIMWI, and how! The minute I saw the guys in their alloted 'dorm', I felt more at home here in Ahmedabad than I have in the last 9 months. It was a surreal feeling - catching up with some old friends in Reddy, Rawat, Gary, Kathait, Bisht et al, making the acquaintance of the recently blooded FE's and chatting with them all at length about the goings-on back in AIT.

On the day of the choreo, AIT was one among 4 teams to qualify for the final. This was despite the fact that our boys did not really have any stage props to speak of. The other contestants had gone all out in bringing not only several props, but also large contingents of dancers to fill up the stage. However, the flips, stunts and coordination more then made up for Team AIT, and they stood out for pure quality of the dance.

In the finals, I was happy to work the lights for the team, as the LKP transformed into a dance battlefield. The boys performed out of their skin on the grandest stage they had ever performed in. Reddy and 'Kaka' Rawat were both considered for the 'Best Dancer' award, which finally went to Kaka. Although the team didn't win the choreo competition, they had truly made an impact. That being said, Team AIT was not done. They also took place in Street Dance competition, and here the boys were peerless - the Humdum crew left a wondrous impression on both the judges and the crowd, finally walking back to Pune with their pockets loaded. Reddy was crowned the 'Best Dancer' here.

I remember feeling a gush of pride when several of my batchmates came up to me and said, 'Those guys were from your college, right? Kya mast nachte hain! The best dancers by far!'

Other highlights of Chaos 2010 for me included the rollicking Sonu Nigam concert, winning a Fastrack in JAM (old AIT flavour in this too) and many other interesting events throughout the fest. However, the very fact that my college choreo team made it all the way here and left behind many admirers in their wake, brings a wide nostalgic smile to my face.

A Breakfast To Remember

2009-11-20T18:04:00.007+05:30

The Indian and Sri Lankan teams stayed at the St Laurn Towers hotel for the duration of the first test match of the 2009-10 series at Ahmedabad. This morning, the Sri Lankan team and some of the Indian team members had breakfast in the cosy restaurant which extends from the hotel lobby. Courtesy my uncle and the special permission that he was kind enough to get for me, so did I.

It was a completely surreal experience. I took great pains to have a long slow breakfast in order to observe all the players. I didn't take any pics or hound anyone for autographs, however, because it would be impinging on their privacy and they wouldn't have liked it. Almost the entire Sri Lankan team arrived together at around 7.30 am - they were going in with the upper hand this morning and it showed in their jovial mood at the breakfast table. They were kidding around, sharing laughs and pulling each other's legs.

Dilshan traipsed in a few minutes after everyone else, and he was greeted enthusiastically by skipper Sangakkara, "Dilshan, You're late..." to a round of guffaws. In fact, 'Sanga' was clearly the most effusive of the bunch, and sported a huge smile on his face all the time. Jayawardene, who'd already played his part with 275 the previous day, appeared the most relaxed and was engrossed in reading the newspaper. Muralitharan was waiting for the toaster to cough up his toast. On the pretext of picking up toast myself, I shook hands with him - although he did not smile and looked a little preoccupied. He went wicketless in the innings, by the way.

I kept hoping that the Indian team (and of course, Sachin!!!) would soon show up for breakfast, but only Sreesanth and Badrinath had arrived around the time the Islanders were nearly done (7.50 approx). I noticed that Sreesanth had a South-Indian style 'pottu' on his forehead. Before I knew it, Gary Kirsten had walked across the lobby and boarded the team bus which was parked outside.

Then the moment I had been looking forward to arrived - Sachin Tendulkar stepped out of the elevator, took a cursory glance at the lobby and the restaurant with a slight tilt of his head, then walked out of the door and into the waiting bus, without saying a word to anyone. I hastily closed my plate and rushed to the entrance - through the glass doors I could see him seated in the front seat and reclining forward, his chin resting on his palms. I had heard about the 'mental preparation ritual' of Sachin and how he blocks out everything else on match day, but it was quite a sensation to watch his focus and intent. He didn't even have his customary headphones on.

I turned back to notice that Dhoni and Sehwag had joined the twelfth and thirteenth men for breakfast. I took a chance and asked the waiter to convey to them that I wanted to shake hands with them. Two minutes later I was standing beside their table and shaking hands with Dhoni (I wished him all the best and told him I was from Jharkhand too, for no real reason!) - he seemed like such a big unit and his handshake was strong and confident. He had an enthused smile on his face and he egged on his teammates, "Arre sirf teen minutes bachche hain, bus nikal jayegi. Sab chadh gaye!" and rushed off.

Sehwag smiled at me and took a swig from his coffee as Sreesanth and Badri went in after their captain - Viru was looking slightly despondent, probably since he had not much left to do today, having already scored a 50 yesterday. He got up, we shook hands and then he too left. I went back to the entrance and by then nearly everyone else had gotten into the bus - I didn't even catch a glimpse of Yuvraj, Dravid, Bhajji or Zaheer. Then the last person to enter the bus sauntered by - VVS Laxman, tall and serious. He passed by right in front of me and didn't appear to hear my low-octave 'all the best'.

As the bus pulled out of the hotel, I noted that Sachin was still sitting in pretty much the same pose, the embodiment of concentration and purpose. Of course, he was to score a match-saving 43rd test hundred later today and, also scale 30,000 international runs. A breakfast and a day to remember, indeed!

IIMA: The First Week

2009-11-13T12:29:00.014+05:30

Q1 Report

Annexure I: The Beginning

Yes, Q1 is over at IIM Ahmedabad! I'm already through half of the first year, and glad to know that I'm still standing. It's also been so long since I've actually posted something here, so I figured I would put in a few words.

I'll start from the beginning - 22^nd June 2009. First day at WIMWI, and I moved into my room in the ground floor of Dorm 15. The room ~~was~~ is quite decent with all the basic stuff - bed with mattress, table, chair, wardrobe, bookshelf - and some more - a telephone, mirror, LAN connection and swivel chair. To my joy everything in it was brand new as I was the first occupant of my room, for the rooms on that floor had recently replaced the old campus gymnasium.

The first day was spent in registration and getting acquainted with the campus (both old and new) - it did take quite some time to find your dorm out of a maze of eighteen in the old campus alone! And the Difteenos' Dorm (15) is pretty much at the edge of the campus, so it was quite an effort to gather your bearings and reach your destination. To top it off, our vision was also clouded since post-registration we had been handed a huge pile of books - a virtual avalanche which seemed more than enough for a year's worth of studying - but which was actually meant for just two slots encompassing a little over two months.

Also, that night we had an informal meet with all the inmates of the dorm. A round of introductions for both the fachchas and the tuchchas ensued. (For the uninitiated, fachchas is the term used for the first-years' and tuchchas, the second-years'). Coming from a college where ragging is the only known ice-breaker between batches, I was surprised to find no traces of old-school 'personality development programs'.

On the contrary, the tuchchas appeared really helpful and imbibed in us, very soon, a few truths of life in IIMA - "plagiarism is a punishable offence, attendance is mandatory, teachers always have the last laugh, and that the 'A' in IIMA stands for 'academics'. On top of that, use your time as you see fit." Wise words, indeed.

Days two and three were set apart for orientation. After listening to a round of speeches by everyone-who's-someone-at-IIMA in the day, we walked into our classrooms for the first time at night to witness the official handing over by our section seniors - Section C and CR-9, in my case. Another round of introductions was followed by our first dekko at the inter-section war-like competition TNite, and also the first experience of tempo shouts; including the soon to be dreaded chant of 'Muggo Fachchon Muggo'.

On Thursday morning we had a first taste of the case study method of teaching which is distinctively particular to IIMA, through a practice case. The first day's case discussion was more or less a remnant of the plethora of GD's that all of my classmates had trounced en route to this class. I remember wondering at the time how I would ever garner any CP points (Class Participation - part of academic assessment) in any of the classes, with such aggressive classmates holding fort. In due course, things did change a lot.

The next day was spent in a marathon session of attending presentations by the different clubs and special interest groups present in the institute. A couple of clubs which caught everyone's fancy included the Placecom and a certain lifestyle club, which boasted of stalwarts like Harsha Bhogle as an alum.

What transpired towards the end of the first week is perhaps best left unsaid, because it is an experience I wouldn't want to spoil for the future generations at IIMA. However, a certain book by an IIMB grad with a reference to clowns and cards has already played 'spoiler' to such a degree that I, for one, was able to see right through the orchestrated extravaganza - but it was fun nonetheless, culminating in a completely unexpected - but deeply appreciated - rain dance.

That being said, the first week was an apt initiation into IIMA - characterized by sleepless nights, rushed deadlines and relentless pressures; all of which have to be dealt with to remain happy at WIMWI.

Refer Annexure II for the report on slot 1..

Dispelling the CAT myth

2009-09-05T12:39:00.011+05:30

In June 2009, I did not graduate from any of the IIT's. Even at the unheard-of engineering college where I did indeed earn my degree, my percentage score was stuck in the mid 60's. I ~~was~~ am not a math wiz. I did not have any prior work experience. Furthermore, I had been rejected in placement interviews by three software companies in a row. However, I did join IIM Ahmedabad that month.

If you are wondering what I am trying to achieve by self-bashing out here, allow me to take you a year and a half back in my life. There I was, in my sixth semester of Computer engineering course, talking to a pretty receptionist at the IMS centre in Pune and finding out about their preparatory program for CAT 2008. I had no inkling then that I would make it all the way here someday. All I had was a feeble hope and I stuck to it for all it was worth.

From January to April, I attended classes every weekend and all my learning was confined to those four hours within the class as I didn’t really find any reason to pick up the pace. November seemed very distant at the time, an insignificant speck on the horizon as I lapped up life at AIT. On top of that, exam time meant we had a two month break from classes at IMS.

It was really in July that I began preparing in earnest. The frequency of our IMS sessions increased – I was thus selective in choosing which ones to make myself scarce in. I put in more efforts towards CAT prep as I began to skive off classes in college. We had mock tests and I didn’t fair too well to begin with. I realised that exam strategy was of paramount importance and began to solve two-three tests every week.

To cut a long story short, I concentrated only on practice tests and gained a lot of confidence before push came to shove, and the D-day arrived – I stood outside the barred gates at my centre, quite aware of butterflies in my stomach. Everything I had ever heard about the most vaunted entrance test in India was buzzing between my ears (could have also been the butterflies) and telling me that I had little chance.

I walked in, picked up the paper and cleared my head. I reassured myself that it was just another SIMCAT and scored a 99.95 percentile. I suppose that’s just too bad for the buzzing voices – all myths in my opinion.

The first myth I want to address is that ‘the brain reigns supreme’. I believe it’s all about solving one question at a time and that your preparation counts.

‘There’s never enough time!’ is another misconception. If you stick to a well-devised strategy and can draw out timelines at the beginning of the test there would be no problem. At the beginning of the SIMCAT season, I had scored just 35 percentile in the Math section. I changed my strategy to devote one hour to it – and I ended up at 98 percentile in that section.

People often believe that you ‘need to stay away from the pack in order to get ahead’. I learnt many techniques and short-cuts from my classmates and can very clearly remember employing one in the test. More than anything else, it helps your nerves to have a support group with friends who are in the same boat as you.

Then there are those who feel that ‘if you underrate yourself, you have nothing to lose’. The moment you decide that, you have as well as put down the gauntlet before the battle has even begun. I agree you have to be realistic, but I can tell you from my own experience that CAT is not as tough as it is made out to be – it’s all about those three hours and whether you are in the right mind to tackle what’s thrown at you then.

Another common mistake is that people think that they should maximize their score in their section that they perceive as their strength. But the question is ‘at what cost’? My strength was English but I actually improvised on it by devoting lesser time in that section and devoting a full one hour (out of 2.5 hrs) to Math, my weakness. As a result, I scored really high in English and reasonably well in Math as well.

There are many more misleading beliefs pertaining to CAT and not everything you hear about the test is true. For instance, I didn’t have to make any sacrifices – I had about the same schedule as I would have followed otherwise, just had to dig out about 2-3 hours of my free time every day and put it in the CAT prep bucket. Another thing is that I have met a lot of CAT crackers, and a majority of them did not even take classroom coaching. However, classes do help and joining a test-series even more so.

Once your score is out and you get calls from the colleges you were aiming at, there’s another long story to tell. Without going too deep into it, I would like to remind you that there’s no substitute for a good CAT score. However, don’t get too daunted by lack of extra-curricular activities on your CV, the reputation of your grad college or even your age (I have a classmate who’s pushing 50!).

In the end, it all boils down to the person that you are and how much you believe in yourself. It’s not about how good your mind is, but so much more about what frame it is in.

'When you really want something, the entire universe conspires in helping you achieve it.' Although Paulo Coelho might have said it, I can truly say that I have experienced it. Do you want to?

The Verdict on 10th April - A Red Letter Day in My Life

2009-04-13T00:02:00.012+05:30

I had spent the previous two weeks religiously counting down the days and trying my best to stay distracted. On the eve of the final results to the IIM calls though, my patience was running out and it was all I could do to stay calm by visiting the temple in the evening.

My heart was set on converting either one of IIM A and IIM C - although I knew that I had given my best showing at Calcutta, I hoped and prayed I would get through to Ahmedabad. The other three - Lucknow, Indore & Kozhikode - were important, but didn't figure heavily in my plans at all; more of a really good fall-back option.

Of course, there was nothing left to do but wait.

Here's a blow by blow account of the euphoric drama that ensued.

9th Apr, 9.45 pm: I received a message that IIM B results were out. I was not in the hostel at the time, but rushed up to my room as fast as I could in the hope that the remaining IIM's would follow suit (as it is mentors from IIM C had informed us that results had been ready for over a day and they were just waiting for the others to release theirs).

9th Apr, 11.45 pm: Still no luck on any of the five sites I had bookmarked about a week earlier - IIM A, C, I and K showed no signs of activity, while IIM L was reporting an error (10 pm onwards actually). All of the people lying in wait (connecting with each other mostly on PagalGuy), were under the impression that atleast one of the IIM's (L being most likely) would declare the result at midnight. Even my friends and flankmates were excited.

10th Apr, 12.30 am: I was tired of hitting refresh over and over again. It was by now quite clear to all and sundry that the results wouldn't be out till morning. I called up Mom (she was on the computer back home in Ganganagar and wide awake!) and asked her to get some sleep too. Turned out the lights, set the alarm for six and headed to bed.

10th Apr, 04.00 am: My body clock was on high alert, I guess. I woke up, checked all the relevant sites, saw nothing; went back to bed.

10th Apr, 06.00 am: Woken up by a call from my bro (Da), just seconds before the alarm went off. IIM L was out with its results - filled in my details to get a rejection first up. Dejected a little, but still looking forward to the other results. After all, the essay-cum-GD at Lucknow didn't constitute my best performance. Found out that most of the people without work-ex had not made it, so didn't lose all hope. The next couple of hours were fruitless again.

10th Apr, 08.00 am: I was tense - really tense. The monotonic ritual of refreshing pages finally yielded dividends - IIM C homepage had a new link for results. Clicked on it, heart pounding...

The joy washed over me - the tension was broken. At that moment, I realised that even if Ahmedabad were to put me down, there was no way I could feel sad. Of course, I would be happier still if IIM A were to come calling.

Made calls to family and loved ones - everyone was beaming. Da was out playing tennis and would've not been able to take the call if not for the fact that he broke his racquet strings and was about to head back from the court.

I was still waiting for WIMWI (that's Well-known Institute of Management in Western India!) to release their list. There was really no point looking at Indore and Kozhikode results at this point - no offence meant; both really good institutes but dwarfed by IIM C.

10th Apr, 09.00 am: As is customary in AIT hostels, the power supply went off. In anticipation of the event, my parents were already online back home and I finally moved to have breakfast - had not left my comp since 6 am, except for five minutes spent in brushing my teeth.

I had figured out by now that A would probably come out with the results at about 10 am. During breakfast at about a quarter to ten, Dad called to tell me that IIM K had waitlisted me. A little bit of a surprise that, considering I had a decent outing there. Ate quickly and rushed back to my room, just in case the Gods had decided to be kind enough to provide electricity. No such luck.

10th Apr, 10.05 am: Received a call that IIM A had released their results and I had made it. Shouted with pure elation & excitement, and it suddenly seemed my toes had springs attached to them, for I couldn't stop jumping. Ran to the other end of the flank corridor shouting 'Ahmedabad mein ho gaya!!'

Dialled the home number in a hurry - Mom & Dad hadn't yet caught the new link on screen. It was as joyous a reaction as I had ever heard from them. Dad entered my details on his computer and read aloud (with great pride in every syllable I might add)...

The Aftermath: Phone calls from almost all members of the extended family (it was tough to get Da on the line again, but he was so happy). Friends literally lifting me off the ground in celebration. The wild rush of excitement and the feeling of being on top of the world - ready to break out in song! It took the entire day for the realisation to actually sink in. And even then it felt like I was living a dream.

In fact, in all the euphoria of converting the Ahmedabad call, I didn't even wait to check the results of Indore - Dad called me in the afternoon and told me I had converted IIM I as well. Neat!

It's been nearly four days since. I have been busy lapping up details about IIM A with a boyish enthusiasm, thanks to the Google Group - IIM Ahmedabad Class of 2011. Wow! To say I'm a member of that group gives a different feeling all together, one of belonging. In fact, I am so excited I don't think I will be able to wait till June to catch a glimpse of the campus.

I've heard of LKP, Dorms, T-Nite, Chaos, Sangharsh, CP..and lots more jargon that I hope to be able to explain in lucid detail here soon. I am ready for the grind.

An Epoch In My Life

2009-04-01T18:03:00.005+05:30

Calling this a memoir would merely amount to employing a euphemism to ease the pain. Heading into the fag end of college days, we have had to endure phrases like ‘last few days’ and ‘final semester’ blatantly thrown around by juniors with an ease and fancy that’s excruciating.

How do you learn to move on from somewhere you’ve spent four amazing years of your life? I’m certain many of us wouldn’t have stayed put in a single place for this long, ever. It grows on you, AIT – the environs, the people and most importantly all the special memories you’ve shared with the friends who turn out to be such an integral part of your life.

I want to share these thoughts with you – the memories, the days in college. It’s difficult, like straining to hold running water in your hands. And it’s all steadily trickling by...

The first few days in college and it all began with us in awe of the BE’s, then we quickly learnt to steer clear of SE’s and TE’s, and gradually developed a certain level of nonchalance towards academics in general. Friendships were forged – some of them, we were told, were going to hold good for life.

I remember the euphoria of my first ever Aakriti – sleepless nights, vociferous cheering, competitions fought tooth and nail – for us FE’s it was nothing short of war. Then, of course, there was the Magazine Board. I found an avenue for myself in all the board’s activities, fun and frolic.

A memory etched in my mind is from the treasure hunt that we had organised then. I was manning a checkpoint with two colleagues, stranded without food or water in a desolate area, out in the rain with a solitary umbrella. In fact, it was here that destiny decided that it was time for me to imprint in the twilight, for a resplendent new moon had eclipsed the breaking dawn.

In SE, I moved into a new (or rather old) hostel and into a flank where I’d go on to live for the next three years. The first job we did as seniors was to plan the freshers’ party. With ego issues, arguments, unmet deadlines and technical hassles, it was a wonder that we actually managed to pull it off. A few unsavoury incidents led me to believe that I had made a couple of friends who would stick with me through thick and thin.

Memorable trips to Lonavla and Panshet followed (tip: do not forget a change of clothes. Believe me, it’s no fun trekking with your jeans glued tight to your legs!). Aakriti fever took over once again – I put in my best and enjoyed myself to the hilt, but individual success was not in sync with the fortunes of my branch. I shrugged away the disappointment and spent the rest of the year as most second years’ would – playing tennis/football in the evenings, lapping up the episodes of Friends, Prison Break and more of their ilk when in my room, spending weekends out in the city and going from one college fest to the next.

The OAC became a regular hangout zone for the group and there were actually days when we’d been there 9 to 5 (no electricity in the hostel a major factor there!). Before we knew it, exams were upon us. I can never be thankful enough to ‘Jigar’, the wonder collection of sample papers which saw me through all the four years.

In my third year, being appointed the CS meant a drastic change to my schedule – lucky for me that equations with my counterpart were not strictly professional. Our co-ordination was perfect and conducting Aakriti with her was a great experience.

The defining moment was being victorious in Verve – holding aloft the trophy was truly overwhelming on that (literally) grand stage. Also, the AWES meet was a wonderful experience – it felt almost as if we were on vacation.

Nostalgia finally began to dig deep in fourth year as we posed for photographs to be published in the college magazine and all of us hurried to get our pictures taken. I think it would be prudent to now make a small mention of some of my partners in crime – the inimitable Sheldon Cooper, my first friend in college and someone who has been there for me through all my highs and lows – I can never forget our freshers’ in SE, nor the fact that somehow everyone always got our names messed up. Intelligent and dependable, Joey is always excited and bursting with life – the special connection we share and the never-ending conversations we continue to have are amazing.

Rooney and I’ve become closer than probably either of us realises and our legen-wait for it-dary comradeship is accentuated by the simple things like buckets, squabbles and keys. Then there’s Monk, tall and reserved, who’s talented and knowledgeable yet a bundle of inspiration as he helped me realise my strengths and work towards them; with a similar bent of mind, he’s always willing to splurge as much as I do.

I have also had the pleasure to get to know Neil & Nikki, Verve’s Sidhu, Gossip Gop, Unicorn Tat-t, Goku, female Bob Dylan, modern Ayn Rand, Hero Singh, D-Company, FedEx, BCG Mathews and many more stalwarts whom I can’t mention for paucity of space.

Last but not the least in any way is my very own Bella Swan, who has left an indelible impression on my heart and who in her unique way continues to show me just how beautiful life can be.

As I pen this down, the time for calling curtains on our tenure in AIT inches ever closer. These years mark an epoch in my life and I will relish all the memories, indeed.

I know I’ve rambled on for long, but as they say it takes a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye.

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.

Running Towards A Hundred Hundreds

2009-03-21T23:12:00.000+05:30

Sachin sure knows how to keep on going, doesn't he? It was so great to watch him (well not really - I read it live on cricinfo!) play with an ease that is so typical of him. I was personally glad to note that he took about 50 balls to get from 50 to 100.

Furthermore, that's his second international hundred on the trot and third in the last four tests. This has added fuel to every one of his fans' dream now - a hundred 100's in international cricket for Sachin. I hope he gets there before he hangs his boots. It seems a realistic hope considering his current run of form.

As far as the record for most test hundreds and runs are concerned, I feel it's getting increasingly likely that Ricky Ponting might not wrench away the records after all. He's not exactly enjoying the purple patch he had hit a couple of years ago and he's just scored one century in six recent tests against South Africa (which also included three ducks for the Australian :))

I'm certain that Sachin will indeed leave these milestones bearing his impressions for a long time to come. All the best, and set off to yet another 100...

Judgement Day on 10th April

2009-03-17T23:44:00.000+05:30

Well there appears to be a lot of confusion doing the rounds regarding the day of the final results. As someone on PagalGuy pointed out, it's mentioned in CAT notification itself - http://www.catiim.in/downloads/CAT-2008%20Notification%20(2).pdf

I quote here from the last point under 'Admission Process'.

Candidates, who appeared in GD/PI will be able to view whether they have been offered admission by different IIMs on April 10, 2009 by visiting the websites of respective IIMs. Admission offer letter would be sent to all successful candidates by different IIMs for which the candidates have been selected. Candidates, who are offered admission, need to confirm their acceptance by completing all the required formalities by May 1, 2009. Some candidates may also be placed on the waiting list initially on April 10, 2009. Offers to candidates on the waiting list would depend upon the number of successful candidates accepting the offer made by an IIM.

Well, there you have it. Now we can actually pin an actual date to our musings.

IIM I Interview Experience

2009-03-16T19:50:00.002+05:30

I'm actually writing this on the bus back to Pune (thank you Dad for the USB modem!).

Well, this was it - the last interview of the season. I made my fourth and final trip to HMATC in Mumbai, again an hour early for the 1.30 slot. Luckily this time they had arranged for us to wait indoors, however thanks to the humid weather I had already given up on wearing a suit, opting instead for a shirt and tie. I walked in and met a couple of old timers again (Harsh of C and L fame), and as ever met some new faces in the process - Gokul Gopal, Tanvi Pradhan and Preeti.

The essay-cum-GD process of IIM Indore began late. It was already 2.15 by the time we were handed the case study and asked to begin writing. The case at hand was about a group of three friends who were studying in different coaching institutes, and had to participate in a GD with three of their instructors also on the GD panel. The instructors were apparently plotting against the friends, and had created a bit of a situation before the GD, thus presenting a problem as to how the friends would proceed in the GD.

The essay was for thirty minutes followed by a twenty minute GD, and I was quite happy with my performance especially in the GD. The group also did alright, although the panelists pointed out one of the candidates after fifteen minutes, asked him for his viewpoint and then we proceeded as usual.

One of the panel members came off as rather strict and harsh, as he seemed to be barking out instructions to us (he actually screamed at one of the candidates who didn't hand him his rough page...poor guy). He went on to inform us that we would be called in for the interview in random order (and that too when I was third in the order of things).

It was back to the waiting room, and what a long wait indeed! The room seemed to be emptying out, and there seemed to be no respite for me. I finally got an opportunity after waiting for over three hours, and the clock was pointing to a quarter past six as I was called.

There were two professors on my panel, both of whom seemed to be experienced - one was the grey-haired, harsh-toned P1 and P2 was comparatively mild and wore thin-framed glasses.

P1: Hand over your file.

(I hand it over, and he gives it to P2 who begins to browse through it.)

P1: (looking up from my form) So you're in Computer Engineering. What's computer engineering?

I: (Told, to the best of what I could think)

P1: Describe your project in layman terms.

I: (Went on to describe the 'Semantic Blog Cataloger'. This lasted a good five minutes I think, as he kept interjecting and asking questions based on what I said. I think I held my own pretty well here. He asked me about 'meme' in between, which I had no idea about.)

P1: Alright what did you study in Operating Systems?

I: Compilers, some examples of OS etc.

P1: What are compilers? And assemblers?

I: Told

P1: What are the different models in Software Engineering?

I: Waterfall model and...(I forgot the name of SDLC..damn!)...I can't remember the name of the other one, but it involves the different stages..blah blah.

P1: Alright so apart from academics, what else do you do?

I: Well sir I write and also maintain my own blog. I also play tennis...

P1: (interrupting) So what do you write about?

(A longish discussion on it followed. Then he latched on to reservation after I mention the blog on it which I wrote on CNN IBN. He asked me for the legal context. I didn't know it exactly, to which he asked if it was alright for me to write on something without having in-depth knowledge. I mentioned it was student feedback, but don't know if I really appeased him here)

P1: (P2 is still not asking any questions) So what all do you read?

I: Well sir, starting from Ramayan and Mahabharat...

P1: How many versions of Ramayan in hindi?

I: (had only heard of one) Sir, one - Ramacharitmanas.

P1: What's the difference in the original Ramayan and Ramacharitmanas.

I: The original is in Sanskrit, but apart from that no difference that I know of.

P1: Who wrote the original Ramayan?

I: Valmiki.

(A few questions on Valmiki followed, and I talked about the 'Angulimaal' story.)

P1: Ok, Mahabharat now. You know Karan right. Tell me about him

(A conversation on his loyalty ensued, which led to talk about how loyalty can also be negative as in the case of Satyam employees helping out Raju. I talked about it being in a different context and time, then went on to glorify other qualities of Karan)

P1: Why aren't you interested in joining the Army?

I: Rehearsed answer.

P2: (ah, finally he's out of his reverie!) What are your weaknesses?

I: (Tell him about my impulsiveness, and divert the talk to KBC Junior. They ask a couple of questions on it, then move on)

(Now P1 starts browsing through my file)

P2: What are your views on reservation? (Not again!)

I: Sir, I believe it is required to a certain level but needs to be phased out slowly.

P2: So this Army Institute of Technology is restricted to Army wards right? Isn't that promoting reservation?

I: No sir. It's different because the Army built a separate college for itself, funded it originally and now we're a self-sufficient college.

P2: But doesn't it translate to the same, since even if you don't gain admission to an institute of your choice based on merit, you can find a seat here.

I: Sir, it's based on merit, in the AIEEE. So it's not quite the same.

P2: Are you a member of pagal guy?

I: Yes sir.

P2: What did you read about the process?

I: (Told them about the GD/essay on case study which I read about.)

P2: Anything negative about the process or IIM Indore?

I: No sir, I even know a current student at your institute.

P2: Right, that will be all. Thank you.

P1: (handing me back the file and reading from one of the articles I'd attached in the end) So there's bound to be 'hell to pay', eh? It's already been a year. (Damn it! He was quoting from my reservation article now. Give it a break already!)

(I smile and walk out, wishing them a good day)

Well, it was a mixed interview and not quite my best to finish with, but that brings the curtain down on my IIM interview season. All five of them were indeed amazing experiences, and now I can finally put my feet up and relax till the results come out.

As far as I am concerned I did reasonably well (and to my satisfaction) in all of the outings and now I can only leave it up to God Almighty and whatever fate decides to have in store for me.

IIM C Interview Experience

2009-03-13T16:28:00.001+05:30

Friday, the 13th. Not quite the best of days you'd usually pick for an all-important interview (IIM Calcutta!), but the candidates are never asked anyway. A bright and early start for the 9.30 morning slot, and I was at HMATC in Mumbai (feeling like I spend a little too many days here now) over an hour early.

As I got there, I learnt that candidates for Indore were headed to the rooms I was by now familiar to, and the interviews for us were being held in rooms on the side and a little to the back of the institute - IIMC was probably being treated as a poorer cousing to IIMI because of late booking. I read through the noticeboard to discover that I was tenth on my panel with a couple of overseas candidates to follow me at the end (groan, it would be a long wait for my turn!).

The first part of the process was verification, where they cross-checked the marks entered in the admission form with original marksheets, and asked for photocopies of the national/state level certificates (for the working professionals, photocopies of their final marksheet and work-ex certificates are also required).

Next we were headed to the Group Discussion - the topic at hand was 'Assets are liabilities'. Surprisingly, about three-four of the guys didn't have blank paper on them, and they had to ask for a page. The group did well on the whole, covering a lot of ground and some good points were made. I started the GD (for the first time) and I was fairly satisfied with my performance. At the end, we were asked to give individual summaries - the panelists didn't say when to stop here and quite a few droned on and on...and on.

As I mentioned before, I had a pretty long wait in store for me, something which was compounded by the fact that the first five candidates were grilled for nearly half hour each. I whiled away the time chatting with people - I ended up knowing quite a few. Prateek, my classmate from AIT, also had the same slot and he'd accompanied me to the centre in the morning, but was in a different panel. Then, there were a couple of old faces to talk with (Nikhil from IMS and IIM-L call, Anurag from IIM-A call and Harsh from IIM-L again). I spent most of the time with new acquaintances - Malika from Deloitte New York, Cyrus with an ISB call in hand, Kedar with a 99.99 and Dipesh Mehta working at Barclays'. I think the famous 'networking' at a B-school that they talk about was pretty much on display there.

Finally, I was called in at 1.30 pm. The panel had three members - Prof. Subroto Mitra, a Lady Prof (whose name was similar to Aparna) and a young alumnus, wearing a yellow tie and working at DSP Merrill Lynch - he seemed pretty jovial. I think I will call them P1, P2 and P3. P1 hardly spoke, while P3 did most of the talking.

The interview went something like this.

P1: Give me your form and your file of documents. (Oh yeah, that's one weird thing about IIM-C, they don't look at your application form before you enter - you hand it to them at the start of the interview)

P3: We are running late as you can see. So very quickly, run me through your background and why you want to do an MBA.

I: (Spoke in brief about my army background, passion for writing, responsibility at school and college...when I mentioned General Secretary, they realised that I was still at college and P3 remarked on it.. I continued with my comp engineering background and then finished with 'Why MBA' talking about value addition of skills, network and brand)

P2: Which college are you from?

I: Ma'am, Army Institute of Technology. You might have heard of it - an alumnus of my college is currently in the final year of IIM-C. His name is Georgie Mathews.

P2: Which Matthew?

I: Georgie Mathews, he's placed in BCG (if they recognised him they didn't show it)

P2: And which school?

I: Ma'am, seven-eight schools in all, but spent most of my time at Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan Public School, where I was awarded the 'Best Boy' in all the Bhavan's schools of the country.

P3: (He had been grilling everyone on Why MBA) Are you placed?

I: Yes, sir. In Tata Consultancy Services.

P3: So why don't you work there for a few years and then come to do an MBA.

I: Sir, I'll acquire all the necessary skill sets - hard skills and soft skills - at IIM-C. Plus, I was talking to some overseas candidates, and they are people who have worked for a number of years in companies like Deloitte, Barclays' et al and yet they have the need to pursue an MBA course as they move up the ladder. It'll be a more efficient and effective path for me to take the course right away.

P3: What do you want to do once you've done an MBA?

I: I would like to join a strategy consulting firm and then eventually move up to the higher echelons of the company. Later on, if I get the opportunity, I'd probably start my own company.

P3: If you join a consulting firm with no experience, why would someone from a big company like..(I think he said Telco, not sure)...listen to your advice?

I: (Spoke about building my base through connecting to different people, and the IIM brand affecting their perception of me. He then removed perception from the table, to which I talked about how I'd be like a breath of fresh air with my ideas. Also mentioned bringing innovation to the table, after which he seemed happy and took a back seat.)

P2: You've mentioned in your career goals that you want to author a couple of books in the next ten years. Which type of book - drama?

I: Ma'am although I read a wide range of books starting from Mahabharat to something like The World is Flat, I intend for my books to be based on my experiences - my first will be based on my college life.

P2: So it will be about the army?

I: No, ma'am. If you'll allow me to elaborate, I can tell you the plot.

P2: Alright, 30 seconds.

I: (Went on to give her a brief outline of the book that I have written a prologue for already. Can't reveal it here - too hush-hush.)

P2: So it's fiction.

I: You could say that. It'll also include a youthful energy like in the Harry Potter series, plus I'll add a scientific angle to it.

P1: (Looking up from my file) You have this subject Financial and Industrial Management. What did you study in it?

I: (Aha, they'd asked this in IIM-L too) The basics of economics like inflation, GDP and basic stuff about managers - their roles in a company, etc.

P1: Did you also study about balance sheets and !#$%^&* in the course?

I: No, sir.

P2(to P1): What is this Financial and Industrial Management?

P1: A subject in his second year.

P2: How much did you score in it?

I: (Answered and went on to describe the strict guidelines in PU, they checked my scores in my form after that)

P2: (Thumbing through the form) Oh, you went to KBC Jr? How much did you win?

I: (Well, well.. another question encountered a second time! I told them about the experience and the final question)

P2: Oh, if not for that, we might have been sitting in front of a crorepati.

(All laugh, I smile)

P3: What's your CAT score, and how many calls do you have?

I: 99.95 sir. I had K and L here last month and A last week. And on Monday I have got a call from I.

P1: Alright, thank you.

And, that was it. It lasted just about ten minutes. Yet another interview where I didn't encounter any technical questions at all. Well, I'm not complaining.

IIM A Interview Experience

2009-03-06T23:04:00.000+05:30

This was it – the big one, IIM Ahmedabad. As I was giving this one in New Delhi, my parents had driven over from Ganganagar and the centre was IIFT. For a change I had a morning slot as I headed to the lobby and was informed that I would be in panel three. There were a few guys already waiting, who appeared to be from the same college and didn’t seem interested in chatting. A few others joined in later and I struck a conversation with them.

The process started bang on time (as is usual with the IIM’s) and we were sent to our different panellists straight away. We were asked to write an essay first – “Pubs are anti-Indian”. I had learnt from others’ experiences that time was of an essence here, so I paced myself to finish in eight minutes. I was pretty satisfied with my essay this time (hadn’t quite done justice to the essay at Lucknow).

I was the third person to go in for the interview. They had already informed us that the interviews would last about twenty minutes each. Also, they’d collected our forms and marksheet photocopies after the essay (one guy hadn’t noticed the instruction which asked us to get photocopies and he had to run straight after!)

I walked in for the interview feeling reasonably confident – the first two had said that the panellists were relaxed. One interviewer was slightly balding and aged (P1) the other (P2) seemed to be middle-aged.

P1: Have a biscuit. (They had just been served tea and biscuits before I entered)

I: No thank you, sir. I will have them later. (It would have been really tough talking with a biscuit in my mouth!)

P1: Okay, tell me something about yourself.

I: (Wow, you gotta be kidding me! Gave him a nice rehearsed answer, hoping he’d catch on to something to ask. He did. :))

P1: Alright, tennis you said. Who is a better player – Paes or Bhupathi?

I: In my opinion, although Bhupathi is ranked higher in doubles, it’s because he has a better partner. Also, Paes has a much stronger serve-volley combination. Plus, Paes has won a bronze in the Olympics and also two Junior Titles (US and Wimbledon). So he had more talent as well. I would say if they played on clay, Bhupathi might win, but on grass and hardcourt, Paes would easily win.

(Asked a few more questions on Federer’s days running out, Indian Tennis prospects for the future and where would I rather invest my money – Tennis or Kabaddi. Seemed more like idle chit-chat)

P2: (he’d been reading my form and listening in to my answers intermittently) So you got a 100 in Sanskrit, can you recite a sloka?

I: (whoops! How did I miss out on preparing one? I tried to recite a sloka and faltered midway. Then clarified that I had ‘Communicative’ Sanskrit, which basically meant that I had learnt how to converse in Sanskrit and I was prepared to do so, right then. The course had been changed that year and we no longer reproduced essays and slokas on rote)

P2: Alright, tell me the laws of thermodynamics. (Meanwhile P1 asked for my sheaf of certificates)

I: (Remembered the Zeroeth and First Law, and told him. Had read this about ten days ago, but forgot the Second and Third Laws. Told him I couldn’t recollect the second and third laws.)

P2: Do you still remember calculus? What is differentiation?

I: Sir, basically it is the slope of the graph…

P1: Okay, so you are a computer engineer? Tell me the difference between optical mouse and normal mouse.

I: (Told them about the wheel being employed for roll-and-draw motion detection and light being used in optical mouse. On being further asked about them, gave advantages of optical mouse having a longer life and being faster. Also spoke of dirt accumulating in the traditional mouse.)

P2: Tell me about a recent development in the field of computers.

I: Asus has just developed an ‘EEE’ keyboard which has a mini-screen, a processor, 1 GB RAM and Windows XP all in the keyboard. They’ve also come out with a CPU with a mini-screen.

P2: (who was obviously the academics expert) Ok. If you had to make something five years down the line to help entrepreneurs and businessmen what would it be?

I: Perhaps a completely advanced planner and organiser. I mean it’s extremely important for them, plus perhaps something for them to save time.

P2: What I mean to ask is if you wanted to make a revolutionary breakthrough in your line of computers, what would it be?

I: I would perhaps like to make a chip which could be attached to humans and have different functions like tracking etc like in science fiction.

P2: Something else?

I: I would also like something which can compress huge objects to make them portable. I mean you want to use big screens and gadgets, but carry them around effortlessly, expanding them to full size when required.

P2: Can you think of an example from real life?

I: (At first mentioned an umbrella, then when he asked me to think natural, went from flowers to seeds. He got really animated at the mention of seeds as it was the answer he had been looking for)

P1: Tell me something about Chandrayan mission. Why is India participating in it?

I: (Spoke about Helium-3 reserves, energy crisis. Then he asked if we should waste so much money, I mentioned it was an investment for the future and since other countries were headed that way too, we couldn’t afford to be left behind as we would become dependent on them in the future).

P2: What else is Chandrayan about? Apart from He-3?

I: I don’t know, sir.

P1: Okay. So you are from Army Institute of Technology. What is that?

I: (Explained it to him, and then he went on to ask of my father’s post)

P2: Is this your first interview? How many calls do you have from IIM’s?

I: (Told him)

P1: (Looking at my form now) You went to Kaun Banega Crorepati Junior? You mention a cash prize and computer here…

I: (Described it all to him and showed him the certificate. Told him the question I lost out on and also all about Amitabh Bachchan. He asked if he was different from reel life in real – I said he was imposing. Also went on to talk about Sidharth Basu being the brains behind it all.)

P1 and P2 (looked at each other, nodded): That would be all. Thank you and all the best.

I: Thank you, sir. Good day.

As I was getting up, they offered me toffee and biscuits. I ended up taking two toffees and a biscuit. They called me in again as I was at the door, for they had forgotten the ‘fee waiver not required’ signature.

All in all, it was a good experience – the panellists were cheerful and relaxed throughout. As a result, so was I. Although the interview lasted about 22-25 minutes, it felt more like a tea-time conversation. I can just hope for the best now. My part in this has already been played.

IIM L Interview Experience

2009-02-25T23:38:00.000+05:30

The second interview of the season was for IIM Lucknow and the venue was again HMATC in Dadar, Mumbai. The afternoon slot this time once more, but with a little change as they'd put up a list downstairs segregating the candidates into five different panels already - and we had to wait on our designated floors without the comfort of an A/C.

I had reached a little over an hour early. I made my way up to the third floor and found a fellow Puneite (Sagar Goyal, IIT Kharagpur alumnus) already waiting - he had been there for quite some time and he filled me in on what had happened in the morning session. By the time it was two o'clock, ten guys had assembled (no girl in the group!) and I recognized Nikhil and Suresh from the IMS workshop - realised that the level of the GD would be good as they were both held their own in the sessions that I had practised in with them.

The process started with an essay - 300 word limit, but the space provided was deceptively excessive. We were given the topic 'Education is the progressive discovery of our ignorance' with a time stipulation of twenty minutes. While writing the essay, I completely forgot that there was a GD to follow. That in itself was another twenty minutes, and all of us were bored by the end of it - as the points all ran out, we naturally digressed to giving examples as far fetched from sex education (ignorance!) to the Satyam fiasco (ignorance as an ethical shield!). Overall, again a peaceful GD - everyone contributed.

We were asked to take a half hour break as our essays were evaluated and then the PI's were to begin. I was surprised when they announced that all ten of us would be done well within two hours. Of course, after my interview was over I wouldn't have been surprised if they'd specified them all to last just an hour.

I was the third guy in my group to be called in and the first two were both done in 12-15 minutes each. As I went in, one of the panelists, P2 - young, chill-looking, stepped out (to the washroom, perhaps?). P1 was a little older, looked a little forbidding.

P1: Give me your file.

(given - he started looking through it. Thank God! The form hardly had any space to mention your interests)

Tell me about your background as I look at your file.

(I was about to start with my version of 'Tell me abt yourself' when he interrupted me)

P1: So, your marks had a sudden dip in graduation. Why?

I: (Explained how PU employs a stricter marking regime)

P1: You switched to AP Board after 10th. Why?

I: My school which was the best for CBSE in Hyderabad, in my opinion, discontinued 11th and 12th because of less demand from students, who all wanted to join State Board colleges to prepare for engineering entrances.

P1: (Looking at my CAT scorecard) You have a good balance in all sections - good.

(P2 back in now)

P2: You are from Army Institute of Technology. Army background?

I: Yes, sir. In fact that has made me adaptable...

P1: (Glancing at my first year marksheet)Why do you have such a pathetic subject - Engineering Drawing?

I: (misunderstood him to be criticizing the subject in itself) Well sir that was in the first year.

P1: But forty marks! You must have just passed

I: (cottoning on to his context) Oh, I don't quite have an aptitude for drawing sir. Also, it's a tough subject and 50-60 is considered a good score in this subject.

P1: What's this 'Financial and Industrial Management'? You appear to have scored more here than in other subject?

I: (Explained that it had basic economics concepts as well as management principles. Resisted the urge to give out any terms which might lead to more questions.)

(P1 kept turning pages in my file, going over the extra-currics. No questions there)

P1: You are a fresher, right? (I was the only one in the entire group of ten) So why MBA now? Why not after gaining work-ex?

I: (Rehearsed answer)

P2: So which all calls do you have?

I: Sir, IIM Ahmedabad..(then suddenly remembered that my preferential order of ACLIK had been pointed out in a practice interview!)..then IIM L, of course..then there's IIM C, IIM K and IIM I.

P1: (He'd by now moved to the tennis certificates) So you play tennis. What other hobbies do you have?

I: Apart from playing tennis, cricket and football, I love writing. In fact my works have been published on CNN IBN and rediff.com. I also maintain my own blog.

P2: What is the recent event in blogging?

I: (Had read in the papers yesterday about the case against a 19 year old boy for defaming the Shiv Sena and how the court allowed the boy to served notice. Mixed them up with VHP, but remembered the case anyway)

P1: You write. Do you read as well? Which books do you read?

I: I'm currently reading Unbound India (Gurcharan Das) and I generally read from a wide range - fiction, bestsellers. I also read The World is Flat and have a typical interest in fantasy books like Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter.

(No question on books from here)

(P1 handed over the file to P2)

P1: So you have been in Pune for the last four years right? What do you do there apart from academics?

I: (Mentioned sports. Then somehow spoke of trekking to different places like Lonavla and Rajmachi. I have never been to Rajmachi, I don't how it came up! He asked me if there was a village there and I said I don't know as I hadn't noticed)

P2: (Luckily he cut in before P1 could catch me out) How do you get admission to AIT?

I: Explained how it's based on AIEEE merit and restricted to Army wards

P1 and P2 looked at each other and decided that there was nothing else to ask me.

P1: Thank you, you can leave now.

(P2 asked me to show him my CAT admit card and handed me my file)

P1:(as I showed the admit card) I like the ordered way in which you've set your file.

I: Thank you sir. Good day.

The first thing that crossed my mind as I came out was that it was a really short interview, and they hadn't grilled me at all - on anything. I was also happy to note he hardly asked me any technical questions although the guy before me mentioned he got stuck on graph theory, in depth. Except for the Rajmachi slur, was a pretty satisfactory interview. Well, that's another one gone. On to March, with more interviews to go.

IIM K Interview Experience

2009-02-13T03:30:00.000+05:30

I hadn't really planned on writing this down, but since one of the interviewers actually asked me if I would, I thought - 'Why not?' Yesterday was my first interview for an MBA admission, and it was for Indian Institute of Management Kozhikode. I have no inkling of what result the future holds for me, but I will just jot down my personal experiences here - I hope it can prove to be of help to someone else.

I entered the interview centre (HMATC, which will be a constant fixture for all IIM calls in Mumbai) at 1 pm, an hour early. I had been told by an alumnus of IIM-L that it helps in getting to know your group-mates before the GD starts. The atmosphere was quite somber and as the aspirants trickled in I found it quite tough to engage them in conversation, especially since almost all of them were busy reading up last minute details, glued to some journal or magazine. I did finally find a couple of guys to talk to, but as it turned out they were both not in my group come two o'clock, once the interviewers came in and split the waiting party into three different groups. So much for that theory.

The GD topic at IIM K is generally a short note (as explained by our panel members). We were given a small piece of paper which said (not even close to verbatim) : "The University Grants Commission has decided to include astrology as a science in the curriculum. There are two different lobbys, one in favour and one against. Those against argue that there is no scientific framework or logic behind astrology, and it is based more on belief than science."

The GD went on for fifteen minutes by the clock. I didn't get to start but I got in a few points, speaking atleast 4-5 times and interjecting, elaborating as required. One or two other speakers also contributed, one being my namesake from IIT-B. The GD was very peaceful and there was no room for a fish market to develop.

After the GD, they asked us all to move out and interviewed us according to our order of seating in the GD - I was lucky to be slated second (I was already calculating how soon I would be able to make it back to Pune once I was done). The first guy went in for about half an hour and I kept talking to people outside to keep my speaking muscles tuned - also kept sipping water every now and then as I waited.

I was called in for the interview at about 3.05 pm. There were two panelists, P1 and P2. Here's a transcript of what followed (to the best of my memory)

P2 - Give me your certificates (handed over my carefully sorted and marked folder)

P1 - So, do you have any skeletons in your closet?

I - No, sir (quite confused)

P1 - If you find someone to be too good to be true, what's the first thought that comes to your mind?

I - Perhaps there could be something wrong, that needs to be verified.

P1 - Precisely, so are there any skeletons in your closet?

I - No, there aren't any.

P1 - So are you an overachiever?

I - No, I wouldn't say that. I set certain goals for myself and try my best to achieve them.

(I realised now that I had been ignoring P2 all this while, who seemed to be going through my certificates. As I looked at him, he too looked back)

P2 - So which branch are you in? (trying to figure it out from the marksheets)

I - Computers, sir.

P2 - So why do you have all these subjects - Civil, Electrical?

I - Sir, those are first year subjects - common to all branches (hope rushed in as I realised that at least one of them was not from a Computer background)

P2 - Ok, so what's a computer?

I - Defined it saying meant for calculations earlier and now multiple functions and processes.

P1 - So would you call calculator a computer?

I - Initially, yes it was. But now its functions are too limited to be classified as a computer. (Both nod)

They go on to ask me about Microprocessors, RAM, ROM. I define it to the best of my knowledge.

P1 -So in a pen drive of 1 GB how much storage space do you get?

I - Sir you get less than that around 970 MB.

P2 - Why is that?

I - I spoke about additional memory and bootstrap facility required for running the drive (now i've read that it's about different perspectives of looking at memory - in PC it is the binary system, while hard-disk manufacturers use decimal system - so it's 1 GB according to them)

P1 - (Seemed convinced by my answer). Tell me, who's Shantanu in Mahabharat.

I - (My eyes light up - I love Mahabharat) Sir, he was the King of Hastinapur - he had two wives - Ganga and Satyavati.

P2 - Who was his first wife?

I - Ganga

P1 - Who was Satyavati's father?

I - Sir I can't recall his name, but he was a fisherman. He was the one to whom Bheeshm made his "pratigya"

P1 - Ok, so was Bheeshm her son?

I - No sir, he was Ganga's son.

P1 - So how many sons did Satyavati have?

I - Two sons sir - Chitrangad and Vichitravirya.

P1 - Are you sure?

I - (Oh, I forgot Vyasa) Not two - three sons sir. Ved Vyasa was also her son

P1 - Hmm. And who was his father? Shantanu?

I - No sir. Not Shantanu, but I don't know who was his father.

P1 - So Satyavati had another husband?

I - Not that I have heard of.

P1 - Oh you haven't heard the story of Parashar Muni and the mist on the river?

I - No, sir.

P1 - Which book did you read Mahabharat in?

I - Sir, my grandfather's book. He has the Kalyan series from the 1930's and 40's.

P1 - No wonder. He must have removed those pages before giving it to you to read - it's because he was born out of wedlock.

I - (Don't remember my reaction - perhaps an 'Oh' and a shrug. Plus I was beginning to sweat - the A/C had been switched off sometime between the GD and my interview, and there was no fan either- I don't take kindly to humid weather)

P1 - So what is your opinion on pre-marital sex? Right or wrong?

I - I think it's an individual's choice

P1 - What about suicide?

I - Sir, that's wrong

P1 - But that should also be an individual's choice.

I - I don't think it's right to take away life, even if it's your own

P2 - Ok, so how about extra-marital affairs?

I - Sir, that's also wrong. Marriage is a commitment to your spouse and to break that commitment would be wrong. For example, in Christian weddings, they say "in life and in death"

P1 - What about other religions? No commitment there?

I - In all religions, marriage is a sacrosanct act. Plus, extra-marital sex is unethical (ah! light bulb, they were questioning me on ethics - ala the Satyam fiasco). Suicide would also be unethical.

(Sweat starts trickling down my forehead now and I involuntarily raise a finger to wipe it. P2, who's generally been quiet, notices and asks me if I'm not comfortable. I mention I'm feeling hot since the A/C was off and I had heard that the place was centrally air-conditioned. He immediately goes to switch on the A/C)

P1 - (while P2 is away) Ok, so you must be good at developing logical algorithms (How wrong can you be!) If I give you two cities A, B and the distance between them, can you find the co-ordinates on the map?

I - (didn't want to give an impulsive answer) Can I think about it for a minute?

P1 - Sure (hands me a piece of paper).

I - (draw a graph and loudly tell him what I'm doing) If you take a graph where you take all the points on it to represent co-ordinates on the ground, you can get infinite solutions.

P1 - Ok, if there are three cities and distances given again.

I - Sir, still infinite solutions. Wait a second, these are straight line distances? Because if not, there will be different constraints to work with - waterbodies, ranges etc.

P1 - Ya, Straight lines.

I - Then, infinite solutions.

P1 - Ok, if there are 20 cities.

I - (try to think for some time)

P1 - You know how to calculate distance right - given the co-ordinates?

I - Yes, sir - root of sums of squares of differences in x and y co-ordinates (missed the clue here)

P1 - Right. So getting somewhere?

I - I still think there are infinite solutions.

P2 - (getting back into the conversation now) Can you prove it that there will be infinite solutions?

I - Sir, there will be too many variables and hardly any known values in comparison.

(I brainstormed with my friends later, and the answer came out from a senior in IIM-C (Georgie Sir) : Even at 3 cities, there will be only about hundred such instances and on 20, you can definitely get distinct cities since distances are given. I also realised the co-ordinates differences have to be perfect squares - Not so difficult when you think of it!)

P2 - Ok, leave that.

(turns to P1) That should be all, right? Oh wait, we didn't ask him about TCS.

(turns back to me) So why don't you join TCS right now and do an MBA later? (I had mentioned that as a fall-back plan in my alternative career option)

I - (rehearsed answer)

P2 - Ok, so which stream do you want to join?

I - Sir, since your institute offers generic management courses in the first year, I will make a more informed decision later. Right now I just want to learn the different nuances of management.

P2 didn't look entirely convinced, but turned towards P1. They thanked me and as I was leaving, P1 asked "You'll write about this?"

I said, "Perhaps".

"You'll blog right?"

"I think so"

"There is a solution to the co-ordinates problem"

"I will try to find it, sir"

"Right"

"Thank you, sir"

And, that was that. My job's done there - will not wonder about the result till it's declared. Over to the next one now.

This 'did' hurt just a little bit

2008-12-31T16:15:00.001+05:30

I've had my fair share of encounters with the dentist this year, courtesy a root canal surgery on one of my molars earlier in the Pune mosoon - my complete lack of interest in the procedure caused it to be extended to nearly two months. In my defence, RCT (root canal treatment) requires way too many long sessions.

Just when I thought I was done reclining in the dentist's chair for some time to come, this morning I was headed into the polyclinic at Sriganganagar to get my teeth scaled (the front ones appeared stained for no apparent reason!). I had to keep my mouth wide open for what seemed like the longest fifteen minutes of my life - in recent memory atleast - while the dentist attacked my teeth with an instrument that I can only qualify as a scalpel. Although the procedure was not painful, it wasn't precisely painless either - I mean the human jaw was definitely not meant to be hanging loose for so long at a stretch.

I tried to distract my mind by looking at the television on the wall in front, but the sound was drained out by the machine whirring by my side and I gave up. Plus the scalpel appeared to have got stuck between my teeth, because I could feel them being tugged at. My mind wandered to the last Prison Break episode I had watched - Lincoln had pulled out a couple of teeth straight out of T-bag and there had been a lot of blood involved. And now I began to wonder if I would bleed - perhaps that's why the dentist's assistant was constantly spraying something (water?) into my mouth. Also, I began to fear for my tongue's safety - it was within reach of that instrument, after all. It requires a great deal of patience and restraint to sit there, I can tell you.

I'm sure many of you would have read (or heard of) the poem which describes how torturous a visit to the dentist can be - it was perhaps the most interesting of all the poems I had read in my books at school. Well, it sure was playing in my mind.

--------------------------------------------------
This is going to hurt just a little bit
by Ogden Nash

One thing I like less than most things is sitting in a dentist chair with my mouth wide open.
And that I will never have to do it again is a hope that I am against hope hopen.

Because some tortures are physical and some are mental,
But the one that is both is dental.
It is hard to be self-possessed
With your jaw digging into your chest.

So hard to retain your calm
When your fingernails are making serious alterations in your life line or love line or some other important line in your palm;

So hard to give your usual effect of cheery benignity
When you know your position is one of the two or three in life most lacking in dignity.

And your mouth is like a section of road that is being worked on.
And it is all cluttered up with stone crushers and concrete mixers and drills and steam rollers and there isn’t a nerve in your head that you aren’t being irked on.

Oh, some people are unfortunate enough to be strung up by thumbs.

And others have things done to their gums,
And your teeth are supposed to be being polished,
But you have reason to believe they are being demolished.

And the circumstance that adds most to your terror
Is that it’s all done with a mirror,
Because the dentist may be a bear, or as the Romans used to say, only they were referring to a feminine bear when they said it, an ursa,

But all the same how can you be sure when he takes his crowbar in one hand and mirror in the other he won’t get mixed up, the way you do when you try to tie a bow tie with the aid of a mirror, and forget that left is right and vice versa?

And then at last he says That will be all; but it isn’t because he then coats your mouth from cellar to roof
With something that I suspect is generally used to put a shine on a horse’s hoof.

And you totter to your feet and think. Well it’s all over now and afterall it was only this once.
And he says come back in three monce.

And this, O Fate, is I think the most vicious circle that thou ever sentest,
That Man has to go continually to the dentist to keep his teeth in good condition
when the chief reason he wants his teeth in good condition
is so that he won’t have to go to the dentist.
---------------------------------------------------------------

After it was all done and dusted, I turned to the sink even before he could say 'spit' (the accustomed pro that I had become, you see) and then moved my head back in place to thank him and smile - more so since I was relieved it was over, and I didn't plan on visiting again any time soon. Of course, he had to burst my bubble! With the glee that only dentists can possibly contain, he informed me that my front teeth had some dental caries and that I should get them filled within the week - and the vicious circle is now set to continue into 2009. Happy New Year!

Short Term Memory Loss

2008-12-27T11:26:00.000+05:30

It's been half a year since I've contributed to this blog, and I'm not going to waste time laying out trumped up excuses - I was just busy. Anyway, it's back to the writing board for me now, and I intend to resume with a simple movie review - Ghajini.

In Shriganganagar on winter vacation at my parents' again, I didn't really expect to watch the Aamir Khan starrer in a theatre - least of all in an Adlabs theatre! Honestly, it caught me by surprise. Apparently a local cinema hall was taken over a few months ago by Adlabs (or is it BIG Cinemas now?) and they've tried to refurbish the place, but it still holds vestiges of being precisely what it is - not true Adlabs material (I mean it's not often you see a "No Spitting - Thoonka Mana Hai" sign in your everyday multiplex). Adlabs? Yeah, right!

So there we were on Friday afternoon - my bro and I - heading over to "Krishna Adlabs" to watch Ghajini in the single screen Adlabs, and we bought 'Platinum' tickets (90 bucks each for that, mind you!). Ah, so now for the movie.

Any parallels with Memento would only see Ghajini pale in comparison, and then again there are only minor similarities - so let's leave that out. To be perfectly honest, the first half was extremely good - the flashback segment handled the entire blossoming romance bit very well. Asin had a tailor-made role for her debut performance amd she was extremely endearing with all her 'kachar kachar pachar pachar'. If she was in a race with Anushka Sharma from Rab Ne.., then Asin wins hands down. In my opinion, she stood out in the movie and that is no cakewalk in a movie with Aamir Khan. Aamir, if truth be told, seemed to enjoy himself thoroughly during the entire movie - he looked the part when he was busy bashing up the bad guys, or when he took off his shirt and screamed in anguish on learning of his tragic loss. He was equally impressive in both his roles - as a suave businessman, as well as a wronged amnesiac running after revenge. What's more, Aamir did hulk up pretty well for the role (you should have heard the whistles ringing out aplenty in 'Adlabs' each time he came into the picture. Although at one time he was lying on the hospital bed, dunno why the guy whistled!) and he seems to have left Sharukh (the actor, not Aamir's dog) well behind in the muscle department.

The second half saw the focus shift to revenge and Ghajini, a villain whose style is a throwback to the 80's. Pradeep Rawat, complete with his henchmen and big studded rings, was well suited to the role and his way of pronouncing 'short term memory loss' never failed to elicit peals of laughter. Of course, Asin had a smaller role in the second half and post intermission, the movie lost most of its freshness and energy. Also, each movie has the capacity to deliver a strong social message - unfortunately this one ended up saying that it's extremely difficult for one person to fight the system and that if try you might have to face tragic consequences. It then became a solid Hindi old school violent drama with punches and kicks flying left, right and centre. Jiah Khan was too meddlesome and irritating, and she thankfully had a small role in the movie.

Most of all, it was the moments between Aamir and Asin which would definitely tug at your heart strings. Aamir's was a stellar performance, speaking more with his eyes then his words. Asin was simply fabulous. I think director A R Murugadoss and Aamir both knew that the movie had many incredibly illogical plot lines and missplaced song sequences, but they actually reveled on those loopholes - this movie was more about entertainment than reality. The fact that the three hour long movie never seemed too long should serve as a pat on their backs.

Ghajini is sure to be extremely successful at the box office - having proven his mettle with movies like Taare Zameen Par and Lagaan, Aamir, through this commercial movie, has finally shown that if there's something that SRK and Akshay can do, he can do it better, and how!

If you are looking for customised essay writing

2008-07-29T01:20:00.001+05:30

How often have you been in dire need of an essay, lack the time to write one and don't know where to turn to? Be it an essay as part of a work assignment, essays for school (or other academic essays) or even a well-researched article or two to consume your personal interest, you always require quality content within a short span of time. Custom-Writing.org helps you out a great deal in this regard. It provides professional, confidential and customised essay writing to suit your needs and more essentially, your style of writing. There is no limit to the topic you want, as the writers here can furnish you with articles regarding any field of study.

Furthermore, the writers from Custom-Writing.org contact you directly so that they can incorporate any changes or queries immediately. If you want to add additional instructions, you can do that as well and also check your order status; that will confirm that your work is being done well within the limitations of your deadlines. The writers at the site are extremely professional and have graduate degrees in various diverse fields in order to get a writer compatible with the request.

Each and every assignment is double-checked for plagiarism and is proofread by the Editor. There are also special discounts for everyone – be it a new customer or an old hand returning for the umpteenth time. So what are you waiting for? Go to custom-writing.org and order for your customised essay right now.

Thesis

Dissertations

Buy Essay

Expensive Sets of Wheels

2008-07-15T09:59:00.000+05:30

If you had all the money in the world, which car would you buy? Well, I’m sure each of us has his/her own dream car, but in the end if your car doesn’t figure in the list I am about to describe, then you probably don’t know much about cars. Let’s take a look at the best sets of wheels that money (and you need a lot of money for buying these) can buy.

The car on the top of the list, the most powerful, expensive, and fastest production car in the world comes from the stables of Volkswagen - the Bugatti Veyron 16.4. With a top speed of over 400 km/h (253 mph), the car is named after racing driver Pierre Veyron. Volkswagen AG subsidiary Bugatti Automobiles SAS builds the car and then sells it under the legendary Bugatti marque. The Veyron is said to generate ‘1001 horsepower’ – that’s how strong its engine is! No wonder it’s perched at the top.

Next on the list is the Enzo Ferrari – named after the founder of Ferrari, the car was built in 2003. It uses the latest Formula One technology with the added advantage of incorporating certain features not allowed in F1, such as active aerodynamics. Once the maximum down-force is reached, it is maintained by the rear spoiler, activated by computer.

Pagani Zonda C12 F, which was introduced at the Geneva Motor Show in 2005, comes next. With a 3.2 second zero-to-sixty sprint and a top speed of 225 mph (374 km per hour), the Zonda F clubsport is in the top bracket of cars, and deservedly so.

Koenigsegg CCX, a supercar, is next in line. Competition Coupe X gets abbreviated to CCX, commemorating the tenth anniversary of the test drive of the first CC car in 1996. The car is more suited for US markets, as it was built to comply with regulations in the USA.

The car which follows is perhaps best known as the German supercar, manufactured by Porsche. The Porsche Carrera GT has a top speed of 206 mph (330 km per hour) and accelerates from 0 to 60 mph in 3.5 seconds.

Mercedes surely can’t be kept too far down this list – the Mercedes Benz SLR McLaren, a sports car cum supercar, is developed by Daimler Chrysler in collaboration with McLaren Cars. The SLR also uses the technologies used to power the McLaren Mercedes cars in Formula One.

Maybach is perhaps a car whose name is synonymous with class and quality. Derived from the Mercedes Benz Maybach, it was seen as a direct challenger to the Rolls Royce/Bentley, when it was introduced in 2002. The Mercedes engine in the Maybach generates 550 horsepower.

Rounding off the top ten are the Rolls Royce Phantom, the Lamborghini Murcielago and the Aston Martin Vanquish. The first Rolls-Royce Model presented by BMW (in 2003), the Phantom is a luxury saloon automobile which produces 453 horsepower. Meanwhile, the supercar introduced in 2002 by Lamborghini was seen as a successor to Diablo and the two-seater produces 640 bhp. The Aston Martin Vanquish came into the limelight as James Bond’s wheels in Die Another Day. The supercar, manufactured in 2001, is powered by a 460 hp engine and controlled by a semi-automatic transmission.

Well, if you want to buy any of these cars, be ready to cough up – because the price ranges from 255 grand (in dollars) for the Aston Martin to 1.7 million dollars for the ultimate car, the Buggati Veyron. And if you do have the dough to own them, then what are you waiting for?

Brain Games

2008-07-07T01:48:00.000+05:30

On a beautiful Sunday morning, young Mark walked up to his mother and handed her a beautiful bouquet of flowers along with something wrapped in shimmery gift-paper. Pleasantly surprised, the lady hurriedly opened the package to find a book titled 'How to improve memory through brain games.'

She was taken aback and demanded why he had gifted her something which was obviously meant as a joke. He waived the allegation and informed her that if was to be of immense use to her.

'Mother, did you know the human brain starts losing out on speed as early as at the age of thirty?'
'Oh, Mark. Who has fed you all this cooked-up information? I am thirty-eight and my brain is just as sharp as ever.'
'Actually, Mom, you've turned thirty-nine today. Happy Birthday!'

This is how easy it is for the mind to start playing tricks on us. However, we have in us the innate ability to manoeuvre our way through these hurdles - we just have to exercise our brain the right amount and the right way. What better way to do that then to engage in a game which is fun to play at the same time?

The brain games will give a huge fillip to the power of the brain. The varied facets of the human mind are catered to by a variety of brain games. For example, a game described in the book gifted by Mark would entail a plethora of steps on how to improve memory be it for names, number, directions etc. On a similar note, specific games work on specific areas of the brain, such as faster processing speed, cognitive functions, reflex actions et al.

Now that we know that brain games are needed to rouse our brain to greater heights, it would be prudent to note that we need to play these games with regularity. If played sporadically, the effect will be minimal. To actually achieve all those bleary-eyed dreams of a new and improved brain, we will have to be sticklers to a rigorous brain-gaming schedule, hopefully, or at the very least ensure that we play the games rather frequently.

If we could imbibe and incorporate all of this in our lives, we would be able to concentrate better with a clear, uncluttered mind and our joyous mood would lead to greater alertness and sharpness. If Mark could explain to his mother all that we just talked about brain games, I am certain that not only would she learn how to improve memory but also improve her quality of life by leaps and bounds.

Men in Blue - an enigma, Indian or French

2008-06-24T17:47:00.000+05:30

The Euro Cup this year has seen Les Blues head back without even crossing the first hurdle. Boasting of players of the quality of Thierry Henry, Frank Ribery and Nicolas Anelka, France had been pegged as fourth likely to win by the bookies. Most of the pundits had given them a real chance of repeating their heroics of Euro 2000. However, it all came crumbling down - a stalemate with Romania followed by humiliating losses to the Dutch and Italy saw the 'Men in Blue' board an early flight to Paris. The French team's outing was a disgrace, coming so soon after the stellar performance two years ago at the World Cup. More than anything else, the fact that a team which was once considered the best in the world could not even make it to the top eight bracket in Europe would have really pinched the French fans. In a way it reminds you of the Indian cricket team and their vacillating performances.

I was supporting France to win, as I have been since 1998. Disheartened by the result, I got tired of reading about Coach Raymond Domenech being singled out for the blame, reactions from former players (including the magical Zizou) and the rest of the postmortem stuff, so I turned the page to find news of the Silver Jubilee Celebrations of the 1983 Cricket World Cup winning Indian team. It was then that the similarities struck me.

India won the World Cup in 1983. Although they made it to the semifinals in the next which was played on home soil, their performances in the next three were nothing short of disappointing. Then, a mediocre start to the 2003 World Cup and a tame loss to Australia in just the second group game saw the fans lose faith and even turn to vandalism directed at some of the players. A back-to-the-wall effort resulted and the resurgent Indian team stormed (mostly on the back of the genius and brilliance of a certain Sachin Tendulkar, who was toying with the bowlers with consummate ease) into the finals at Johannesburg. Unfortunately I can't add 'and the rest is history', as the team lost. Come World Cup 2007, there were big expectations from the players, but the Caribbean Calypso ended without even starting as India capitulated first against Bangladesh and then Sri Lanka to bow out of the tournament with heads hung in shame. Coach Greg Chappell was the first to take the hit (as in the case of France's Raymond Domenech this time round). As more time ensued, the seniors in the team's ranks were waylaid one by one (Sachin and Kumble the only ones still maintaining their respective places of choice). The youngsters have now taken over the mantle with a bright start, adding the first ever T20 World Cup to their kitty.

For France, euphoric wins in the World Cup and the Euro Cup at the turn of the century were followed by a surprise exit in the group stages of the next World Cup in Japan and South Korea. No one gave them as much as a chance in 2006, but a gutted Zinedine Zidane (who missed out on most of the action four years ago because of injury) weaved his magic to take France to the doorstep of victory, where he (rather like Sachin getting out early against Australia in the final of 2003) faltered at the last hurdle. He was sent-off for the now infamous head-butt, and France lost to the Azurri on penalties after having a hand on the trophy. And now, two years later, the abysmal show at the Euro.

Perhaps it's time for the French to re-think their players' composition and take some tough decisions, rather like the Indian team management had to. Makelele has retired, but the rest of the ageing midfield (including Patrick Viera) and defense line also has to be replaced with fresh young legs. Domenech's aversion to Trezeguet saw him sit out most of the tournament when he should have been given the chance to use his predatorial instincts to take the team forward. There were so many tactical errors which have to be corrected, but let's take a look at the bigger picture. It's time to prepare for the next World Cup (2010), as Zidane himself said in an interview, and like the Indian cricket team is already in the process of doing - by putting out the greenhorns to face the fire and sharpen their claws.

I am sure all Indian cricket fanatics would be more than able to show empathy to fans of the French football team. Let's just hope that the players of both these teams can add some consistency to their repertoire and showcase their skills when they're needed most. Even if they can't get themselves to do that, I, along with many others like me, will go on shouting my lungs out in their support (even more so in desperation) - because that's what we sports fans are all about.

Euro 2008 - Not a quarter given

2008-06-23T22:24:00.000+05:30

I have held back till now from putting forth my views on arguably the second-most watched sporting tournament in the world. Now it's the business end of the competition, and we have four teams in contention - not all of which might have been expected to be contesting the semifinals. Let's take a look at the contenders and the pretenders, and how they have fared thus far.

Prior to the tournament, most of the pundits had felt that Germany, a team which generally plays well in the big matches, would probably make it here with ease. But they had a mediocre record in the group stages, finishing second in the group stage to a resurgent Croatia. Their quarterfinal opponents, Portugal (a simulation by Electronic Arts had pegged them as the winners) had been in top form at the beginning of the tournament, buoyed by the sensational Cristiano Ronaldo (probably heading to Real Madrid over the summer). However, making too many changes in the starting lineup for the last inconsequential group game against Switzerland, along with the untimely announcement of Coach Scolari's appointment as Chelsea's manager cost them dearly. After influential playmaker and player-for-the-future Juao Moutinho was out due to injury just a few minutes into the game, Portugal were already halfway out of the competition. The German midfield was incisive and soon the Portuguese defenders were playing into the hands of Ballack and Podolski (who has been a revelation with his new midfield responsibilties). The Germans are in with a very good chance of walking away with the honours.

Germany's opponents, the Turks would have no qualms in accepting the fact that they are the underdog here. Having pushed aside the Czechs at the group stage, Turkey played a very good game against an in-form Croatia team, clinching the win in the shootout. With Goalkeeper-Captain Rustu and Nihat Kahveci in top form, they might spring a surprise or two on the Germans.

The third quarterfinal pitted the Russians against the Dutch. The 'in-form' team of the tournament, Holland had stream-rolled through its group, burying heavyweights France (the team which had my support personally, tsk, tsk) and Italy along the way. However, the Russians pulled off a surprise win over them, inspired by star-player Arshavin as he made a comeback from injury. Russia had also pulled one over the Swedes in a closely-contested decider group game, where Zlatan Ibrahimovic tried to keep his ailing knee at bay, but in vain. Although not starting out as favourites, the Russians are no pushovers, mind you.

However, Russia is up against Spain in the final four. The other team in form at the Euro this year (the other being the Netherlands), Spain is tipped to be on course for a tournament win, due for many years now. Perhaps the footballing equivalent of the South African cricket team, the Spaniards have earned the tag of 'chokers' even though they play brilliant, attacking football. They kept their nerve in the quarter-final against Italy as the game reached a stalemate even after thirty minutes of Extra Time were over - two breath-taking saves by Goalkeeper Casillas put them through. A magnificent outing in the group stages and the fact that they have already beaten Russia previously in the tournament seem to make Spain almost a certainty for the final. Players to watch out for would be the goal-scoring machine David Villa, Liverpool man Fernando Torres and young Cesc Fabregas, who comes in during the second half and immediately takes control of play. Goalkeeper Casillas is also bound to play an important role after his heroics against Italy.

I personally believe that a Spain-Germany showdown is definitely on for the final. The more-experienced Germans who have peaked at the right time appear to have a better chance against the 'chokers', Spain. However, my gut feeling tells me that Aragones' men have it in them to lift the trophy at the Ernst Happel Stadion come Sunday night. Let the best team win. Post all the tense Indian cricket matches, it's great to be able to enjoy a game with a neutral outlook for once. The last three days of Euro 2008 are set to provide a spectacle - don't miss it for a thing!

Parking Not Fine!

2008-06-22T22:59:00.000+05:30

A friend of mine once said to me, 'Just imagine what it would be like if you made all the cars parked at this very moment join mainstream traffic in the city. Leave no car parked or stationary.' Well, I said to myself, there won't even be any breathing space left on the roads - utter chaos! What if you had to park them all at the same time?

I have been frequenting the hangout spots at FC Road in Pune with a sporadic regularity over the last three years. However, today my bike got towed by the Traffic Police while I was having lunch - and this was not the first time either, on that very road. The scene of the crime 'supposedly' had a white marking indicating the end of the parking line.

Closer inspection confirmed that it was so faint that it could not have been painted for over five years atleast, and moreover, the vertical part of the painted 'L', which demarcated the end of parking space, had completely worn off. So, what we have here is a horizontal white(tempted to call it invisible - it's that faint) line, which can so easily be mistaken for a yellow one which indicates end of the road's width, almost surreptitiously lingering among a sea of two-wheelers parked. Consider the really long stretch of FC Road and we have at least a dozen such spots - and each spot atleast has five vehicles parked 'by mistake' at any given time of the day. The weirdest thing is that these 'excluded' parking spots are not visibly too different from the adjacent parking lots.

What is ludicrous in this situation is not just the fact that the lines are not properly drawn (literally) - the Traffic Police without fail keeps picking up two-wheelers intermittently throughout the day. It's almost as if they want to tow as many bikes as possible. It's almost a given that once your bike gets towed, get ready to shell out plenty of cash to get it off the hook. If you're lucky, you can get away with minimal damages. I had to part with a hundred and fifty bucks today, although as I was leaving I saw a guy grappling with the 'authorities' - they had apparently demanded a grand to return his motorcycle. I'd call that extortion!

The situation has to be taken care of as early as possible - it is way out of control already. One probable solution is reworking the entire parking map at FC Road - honestly, over half of these spots can be used for parking in my opinion. An inevitable and essential step would be to use fresh paint to bring the obscure markings to light. Or, even perhaps, get in a paid parking system and involve parking attendants all along the Road - the system seems to work in loads of other similar places (MG Road being a case in point).

Staying on the subject of parking places, I wonder what happened to talks suggesting a reduction in parking prices at multiplexes and malls. Pune Central is a pioneer in this regard in the city, with the customers getting a refund if they buy something at the mall. Hope the others follow suit soon enough.

I heard this morning that over the last few decades work on making the highways better has been accompanied by complete neglect shown to some important factors governing driving within the city limits. The ever-increasing congestion on the road doesn't help either. Perhaps the rising fuel prices are an indication - get out while you can, and please look before you park!

Impending fuel hike : instiling panic

2008-06-03T10:03:00.000+05:30

Last Friday night as I was walking up the hostel steps, I found a small conglomeration at the head of the stairs apparently deep in discussion. As I neared the group, I gathered from the panicked faces that it was something rather important. Wild guesses as to the cause (perhaps a tragedy in the campus or maybe yet another restriction declared on us by the authorities) sprang to my mind. Thankfully, it wasn't anything of the sort. It was about the now inevitable fuel hike and its horrifying implications on the biking populace of our college. I was duly informed that almost all of the gas stations around Pune had run out of stock, while some had just shut up shop (perhaps to cash in once the refurbished rates come out).

It was a shocker for me. Like any other true-blue collegian's two-wheeler, my trusted steed parked below was at the end of its tether - having travelled over fifteen k's in reserve to top it all. A few guys had been smart enough to pay a visit to the petrol pumps earlier that day as unconfirmed news of a possible strike had trickled in. Even I had it at the back of my mind to fill up my tank for over two days - had learnt that international prices were touching $140 a barrel (and when I had joined college it wasn't even half of that!). Unfortunately, typically hostelite tardiness had crept in and I hadn't. I was not the only one either. We joked about the bicycles being poised to make a comeback in a big way (no kidding, there's been an upsurge of bicycles in the parking of late). Well, I went to bed to encounter a rather disturbed sleep. As it so often happens when you lie fidgeting in silence with the lights out, an idea struck me - to check out the nearest highway in the morning.

True to my resolve, I got up early enough the next day, donned my biking gloves (literally!) and rode into the sunset, er, sunrise (even that not quite, it was nearly ten). I passed a couple of gas stations on the way, both lying desolate. Close to the highway, my heart leaped with joy to see a working petrol pump, but I was shepherded away from there as only diesel was available. Resigned to my fate, I trudged along to the highway hoping against hope that the next petrol bunk would be the one. Voila! The next one was definitely a godsend. I was elated to find it working, and that too at a dime a dozen. What a rush! My fellow travellers in the fuel-desert had completely clogged up the area with their bikes and cars. It was pandemonium everywhere. There were even people who had got bottles to stock up on fuel. It took me over twenty minutes to get serviced, but it was worth it. I cannot describe the feeling to finally have petrol gushing through my bike's electrical veins. As I managed to weave my out through the ever burdgeoning crowd at the bunk and get the pressure in my tyres checked, the mechanic told me that he expected the stock to run out pretty soon. I felt a deep sympathy for those in the line who would end up going home empty-handed, or rather empty-tank, and a great sense of relief that I wasn't one of the unlucky ones.

Later in the evening, I was out on the roads (smug that my bike had plenty of gas to last me for a while) when I noticed that some of the erstwhile-closed petrol bunks had also opened up, with similar results. In the city that meant the queue was spilling out on to the road. On the way back I saw the same gas station, completely abandoned, probably with empty coffers of fuel. I know that it is inevitable that the fuel prices will go up now. Talks of carpool, saving the environment and the like, which had always seemed so uprighteous and distant, don't seem so ludicrous any more. Even though the politicos will go on bashing each other over every issue or non-issue, the leap of faith shown by the common man in accepting the hike has been tremendous. Let's hope for their - our - sake that the smart alecs of the world can come up with a substitute for petroleum, and soon. We desperately need it.

(Video) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BAxTxS1oD20
(The bunk where I finally got my bike fueled - recorded on my k550i cam)

National Flag on silver screen : matter of pride or tasteless compulsion?

2008-05-27T10:25:00.000+05:30

To start with, I want to make it clear that I am not one of those self-proclaimed defenders-of-the-society who are quite capable of filing a litigation labelling the amount of monsoon predicted by the Met department as being disparaging to the country. It's just that I wanted to point out something that has left a sour taste in my mouth.

Last week, I watched the recently-released movie starring Amitabh Bachchan as a ghost, at Gold Adlabs (one of the popular multiplexes in Pune). I was mightily impressed by their screening of the National Anthem - the ever-melodious Lata Mangeshkar and her gregarious sister Asha Bhosle rendered their voices filled with emotion and national pride. The music (Rahman's I believe) was befitting and quite a few of the patrons were seen with hands on hearts. The visuals were also impressive, the fluttering tricolour flanked by two of the most recognisable singers in Indian history. It felt proud to be an Indian just then.

However, just yesterday I decided to catch a movie at Inox, another much-frequented multiplex in the city. I was extremely disappointed at the way they treated the National Anthem and Flag. While the Flag on screen was an animated version (it looked as if the flag were made of plastic), the Anthem sounded hurried. It is supposed to last at least fifty-two seconds, right? I doubt if they managed even forty-five here. It is not expected that they would come up to the same standard as the Lata-Asha combo. Still how difficult can it be for them to show a real flag fluttering in the gentle wind? A lot apparently. And surely, the standard version of the National Anthem can be played if they can't improve on it?

It was extremely disappointing to watch Inox treat the National Flag and Anthem along the lines of a teenager approaching a monotonous chore assigned by a rollpin-wielding mother. If they are screening it just for the sake of it, why can't they stop altogether? E-squaere, the third big-shot multiplex in the city doesn't do it - so I don't see any legal compulsion being involved. Although, it would be really nice if they can include the Anthem at every screening - it instils a certain amount of national pride (at least briefly) in the viewers, who are too busy with their own lives to fret about the nation.

Let's hope the powers-that-be at Inox Multiplex can put in the required efforts to revamp their screening of the National Anthem with a proudly fluttering tricolour. They seem sensible enough to cater to the wishes of the audience - if recently-released free popcorn coupons are anything to go by.

Sachin's Top Five : My pick

2008-04-24T19:28:00.001+05:30

The genius turns 35 today. For nearly two decades now, he's enthralled millions worldwide with his sheer brilliance. Do we expect more outstanding performances from him in the future? Only time will tell. It would be foolish to write him off - I personally look forward to watching him bat as only he can.

On a birthday which the entire cricketing community celebrates, as a humble fan-tribute I'd like to describe five of his best that I have seen (I began watching him play from the 1996 World Cup).

1. 169 v/s South Africa at CapeTown
(2 Jan 1997)

During the initial phase of his captaincy, Sachin and Azhar got together at 58 for 5 in reply to
an imposing South African total of over 500 at Newlands. What followed was an epic partnership in which both players matched each other stroke for stroke. They showed complete disdain for the likes of lightning fast Donald, immaculate Pollock, young tearaway quick Klusener and Brian McMillan. Sachin produced some beautiful hooks and square cuts, even playing on the up with ease. The partnership ended when Azhar was run out, yet Sachin continued till the end and was the last wicket to fall. Even though India went on to lose the match, it was a magnificent counterattack.

2. 104 off 97 balls v/s Zimbabwe at Benoni
(9 Feb 1997)

It was a do-or-die match for India. Surprised in the initial stages of the triangular ODI series by the Zimbabwean seam attack, India had to win at an increased run-rate to qualify for the finals. The target 241 off 40 overs. The pressure was on the Indian batsmen with an indifferent record in the series. India lost a couple of wickets early, but then Sachin began turning the screws - dancing down the track to play lofted shots straight down the wicket. The Zimbabwean hero of the series, Eddo Brandes, was taken to the cleaners early on as he was taken for 18 runs in an over in his first spell. Although Sachin got out with the end in sight, Jadeja and an in-form Robin Singh took India home in the final overs.

3. 143 off 131 balls v/s Australia at Sharjah
(22 April 1998)

An innings which needs no description. A couple of days before his 25th birthday, India again were in a do-or-die situation, needing to chase and score 237 off 46 overs to qualify for the finals. Not a daunting target, but as usual, Sachin was running out of partners pretty fast - Mongia contributed as a pinch-hitter and Laxman stuck around near the end, but that was it. As some of the newspapers described it the next day "A storm of runs in the midst of a sandstorm". Play was interrupted in between, but Sachin put on a belter of a display, hitting five towering sixes in the process. Not only did India qualify for the finals, at one stage it looked like Sachin would dispatch any delivery bowled to him outside the ropes. He followed up this innings with a particularly classy 134 in the finals, helping India win the Coca-cola Cup in the process, on his birthday.

4. 136 v/s Pakistan at Chennai
(28 January 1999)

Perhaps his best test knock ever. Also, perhaps the most tragic. Reduced to 82 for 5 while chasing a target in excess of 270 on the final day of a dusty track, India looked towards its favourite son to deliver - and boy, did he deliver! Finding an able partner in Nayan Mongia (again!) who was willing to stick around, Sachin fought the pitch and his own back to produce a gem of an innings. Finally his back gave way and he departed with India just 16 behind and three wickets in hand. Pakistan won by 12 runs. It definitely has to be the best test innings to end in defeat.

5. 98 off 75 balls v/s Pakistan at Centurion
(1 March 2003)

An innings which powered India's charge to the finals in the 2003 World Cup. Talks of Sachin being past his prime were doing the rounds prior to the team touching down in South Africa. All of that was cast aside as Sachin toyed with the star-studded bowling lineup of Akram, Waqar and Shoaib Akhtar to set up India's run-chase and qualify for the super sixes. His six over third man off Shoaib became legendary, to say the least. He was unfortunate to miss out on a hundred as cramps took over, but Yuvraj and Dravid saw the team safely through the end overs.

All of these are examples which epitomize the fire, passion, class and pure genius that is Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. I salute you on your 35th birthday. May you continue to delight us for days to come!

IPL - It's a Player's Life

2008-04-22T22:56:00.000+05:30

If the first few days of the Indian Premier League are anything to go by, this concept of a ‘cricketing EPL’ is a grand success in the making. Although judging by the rocketing ticket sales and the jam-packed stadiums, it already is. The lack of quality matches and players featured in its now-so-distant cousin (ICL) has been underscored by the swashbuckling performances of the pedigreed players and the high scores they’ve raked up with consummate ease. A shot in the arm for the BCCI, no less, but even the cricket-crazy fans in India are lapping it up – they are happy getting a daily dose of action and excitement. Once the spectators have reaffirmed their loyalties towards their local teams, fan-rivalries will add a new flavor to the game.

It also goes without saying that the players are really enjoying themselves as they get into the groove (I doubt that we have heard any complaints about too much cricket of late). Leading the pack are the Trans-Tasmanians – McCullum’s cracker of an innings on the opening day has been fittingly followed up by the Hussey brothers, Shane Watson and even James Hopes. It’s hardly surprising that the Australians have been the quickest off the blocks. The opposing bowlers should bear in mind that the Pontings, Gilchrists and Symonds haven’t come into their own yet.

While the icon players have been conspicuous by their lack of powerhouse performances thus far (save Yuvraj’s quickfire fifty, although Lehmann and old mate Kaif’s benevolence helped him out at Jaipur), I am sure that as the days fly by they will figure quite prominently for their side’s cause. Of course, Sachin is yet to get a game and I’m sure the entire cricketing world will have eyes just for him whenever he walks in to bat for the Mumbai Indians.

The Pakistanis, South Africans and Caribbean players are also joining the fray now, after fulfilling their national team commitments, and that should tilt the international balance of the IPL to some degree. Of course, cutting a sorry figure at the moment are the English players – how ironic that the descendants of the forefathers of the game cannot participate in the greatest cricketing extravaganza to date. Also the player reactions show ominous signs for the ECB – it would be a sad day for the game if the likes of Flintoff and Pietersen had to choose between the national team and IPL.

From an Indian perspective, it is heartening to see young guns come to the fore – be it Shikhar Dhawan and Ravindra Jadeja carting sixes, or Vinay Kumar and AB Dinda running in hard and hitting the deck. Also endearing is to watch the old workhorses like Nehra, Joshi and Kaif try out their wares – even though with mixed success.

It is now a safe bet to say that the Indian Premier League is much more than just a blip on the cricketing calendar. The fans are loving it and so are the players, who are raking in the moolah – and deservedly so in my opinion. For all those doubting Thomases out there, I’d like to make a reference to the European footballers or even the American sportsmen who earn more than ten times the package of our icon players, even.

Excuse me, I am now heading out to watch the Deccan Chargers take on the Delhi Daredevils. Go Deccan! Balla bolega!

Of Reservations and Repercussions

2008-04-10T23:30:00.000+05:30

'Twenty Seven percent! Add that to the 22.5 seats in a hundred set aside for the SC/ST's and you eliminate a whopping 49.5 percent out of the (already lopsided) equation. I think I should begin packing my bags at the earliest and look westwards for my higher education. There is no way I am landing a good admission here.'

That's the first thing that engulfs the minds of all members of Gen-X as we recoil from the first salvo of the Supreme Court ruling. Overnight, the cut-throat competition for top colleges in the country has intensified beyond a level we can even begin to comprehend. It was tough enough to inch your way into the top bracket in exams (like CAT for example). Now, however, even that's not going to guarantee you an admission in the institution of your choice.

After the initial feeling of despair washes over me, I begin to think about the reasons and necessity of the reservation. I had glanced through a report which mentioned that the National Sample Survey Organisation (NSSO) had arrived at a figure of 23.5 % describing the OBC's share of the university seats as of 1999. I fail to understand why there's a need to constitute a fixed reservation for them, if they are already doing quite well. What comes next? A reservation based on religion (which is already in place in certain states), or as Raj Thackeray's MNS demanded last night, an 80 percent reservation quota in private companies for the local state population?

The SC has been careful enough to emphasise that the 'creamy layer' is not benefited. In its defence, the SC appears to be giving economic constraints their due. In that case, why not include reservations for the 'crusty (?) layer' of the other castes too? There are so many pieces in the puzzle which don't quite fit.

The SC has pulled another rabbit out of the hat - one which foolishly threatens to poke the lion (read youth) in the eye. Post movies like RDB and Chak De, I doubt that the vibrant young generation will take this lying down. The government must not have forgotten the strikes and agitations (which also included a catchy anti-reservation ring-tone) which had become synonymous with the youth two years ago when the Act had come into the picture. Wonder if the powers-that-be are ready for the repercussions now, for there's bound to be hell to pay

In the eye of the storm

2008-04-10T23:28:00.000+05:30

The entire semester rushed past in a haze of laughter & colour. However, like all good things, even the fun & frolic had to come to an end. Soon the students were to be seen burning the midnight oil and toiling as the clock ticked. No, I’m not talking about the exams, but submissions - the anvil of getting done with all the journals, seminars and reports in time looms large over the heads of the students, come term-end.

Running from pillar to post to get one experiment checked, hurrying to the stationary to get index pages and file covers, desperately begging batch-mates for an eraser as your trusty pencil case plays hide-and-seek right at the crucial moment, frantically rummaging through your cupboard for that one missing file; pandemonium reigns supreme for about a fortnight (or in some renowned cases, even weeks longer).

Of course, nothing compares to the agony you feel when your file gets rejected at the final hurdle or the “altar”. Rumors are rife about one particular incident when a first-year student had all of his EGR sheets rejected for submission, just a couple of hours before his train was due to leave. As the dejected bloke trudged back to his hostel room, all his friends stopped midway through their packing to listen to his woeful tale. Then, in a show of legendary solidarity, all the inmates of his flank pitched in to help – the eighteen diagrams on six sheets got drawn in about half hour, one diagram contributed by each flank member – and the lucky guy was able to submit all of his sheets and get on the train right in time. Hats off to those guys!

The submission time also marks a highly profitable time for the cafeteria in the campus – with last moment work mostly done in the outdoors, students keep nipping in to buy a drink or snack every minute or two, to keep their wheels in motion as they work incessantly. As the retailers like to put it (with a snide reference to submission-time): ‘make hay while the sun shines, and spin gold while the students whine’.

In the final few moments, the moment you have deposited your last file in its place (I am more than tempted to call it consigned to the bin), you experience absolute bliss – a humungous burden gets lifted off your shoulders. It’s like having taken gulps of cold water on a hot summer’s day. Whew! Glad that is over…

Prison Break - Michael Scofield Tattoo Wallpaper

2008-03-20T17:29:00.000+05:30

This wallpaper has been designed by me.

Michael Scofield is a protagonist in the popular American television series, Prison Break. He is played by Wentworth Miller.

Mid-air Mystery

2008-03-10T16:16:00.000+05:30

DISCLAIMER: The following story has characters, events and situations which may/may not be real/virtual. Otherwise you are safe to imagine them as a figment of some poor soul's imagination.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Haunted (H)airlines' flight no. FRI-1304 has been further delayed by two hours. We regret the inconvenience caused to the passengers. Here's wishing all of you a very Happy Halloween on behalf of the entire ghostly crew."

Tanya Adams looked up disconsolately as the monotonous voice on the airport P.A. system died out. She had been waiting for over half a day already, and her little daughter was not making things easy. Thankfully, Samantha had drifted off to sleep at last, she thought as she stroked her daughter's red curls lovingly. The three year old looked so angelic - lost in her dream world of unicorns and ponies - a tiny smile on her pink lips lighting up her cherubic face.

It definitely was not a walk in the park to be a single mom. Tanya caught sight of her reflection in the mirror beside the ticket counter - her normally beautiful golden brown hair was unkempt and splaying all over the place, her green eyes bore the signs of weariness, and her haggard look was made complete by her daughter's drool staining her coveted halter-cum-skirt ensemble - it was fresh from the oven as she had bought it on this trip to Gaipajama, Indya.

----------------

The two hours passed off uneventfully (unexpectedly so) and there they were, reclining comfortably in their aisle seats on board the Haunted (H)airlines' aircraft. Samantha was wide-awake now, fully rested and ready to explore the aircraft's interiors, which were decked in a truly scary fashion (in tune with the name of the airline). Even the stewards and air-hostesses were dressed up as ghosts and monsters.

'Look, mommy!' exclaimed an excited Samantha. 'There's the Bogeyman, and over there is Casper, the friendly ghost. And isn't that Frankatine, the funny guy with the pierced neck?'

'You mean Frankenstein, Sam," smiled her mother, even as her eyelids were beginning to droop. 'They're not real, pumpkin. Don't worry. Sweetie, Mommy's gonna nap for a while. Wake me up if you need anything. Do not take off your seat belt, ok?'

With that, she finally gave in to her exhaustion and fell sound asleep.

---------------

'All passengers are requested to put on their seat belts and remain seated. Cabin crew, prepare for landing.'
The captain's honeyed tones lifted Tanya out of her reverie. She turned instinctively to her right, where her daughter should have been. To her dismay, the seat was unoccupied.

'Where's my little daughter?' The plane almost got upended by the magnitude of her shriek. She was frantic and got up, calling to her daughter, 'Sam! Sam! Sweetheart! Where are you? Mommy's getting worried.'

A stewardess (sporting a banshee costume) rushed to the scene. 'Ma'am please remain calm and go back to your seat. The flight's about to land.'

'Calm? Calm!!! You expect me to remain calm when my baby girl is missing?' Tanya had grabbed the stewardess by the hand and was hysterical, completely in tears. 'Where is she? Where is she? I am not sitting till i find her.'

'I don't know what you're up to Ma'am, but you're traveling alone. There was no one with you as far as I know. A bad dream, perhaps? Why don't you sit down?'

'This is ridiculous! Are you telling me that my daughter was not here? Look here, I have her boarding pass attached to mine.'

Tanya rummaged through her handbag, but it held just her pass. There were no pin marks on it, either. A desperate Tanya then opened the overhead locker only to find an empty spot where Samantha's tiny duffel bag should have been. She was shattered, but refused to be seated, It took all of the stewards and a couple of passengers to subdue Tanya and force her to buckle up while the plane touched down.

------------------

It's been six months since the incident. Tanya's search for proof of Samantha's existence has been fruitless - no travel records, the school where she attended kindergarten doesn't have her name down in their records, all her photographs have inexplicably gone missing, and no one except Tanya remembers that she had a daughter, not even family and friends. (Her estranged husband called it a gimmick to take him back when she went to him with the story of their missing 'daughter').

It was as if Samantha was a ghost! Then, Tanya remembered the tag line of Haunted (H)airlines, 'It is but natural to fear the supernatural.'

Old w(h)ine? Nope, it's Master Craftsman to the rescue - yet again...

2008-03-04T02:18:00.000+05:30

His detractors had written him off. Despite his stellar performance in the Test series Down Under (which saw him top the batting charts), a couple of unenterprising knocks in the one-dayers saw the fickle 'fans' hounding Sachin once again. Talk of him being past his sell-by date started doing the rounds with an increasing crescendo. If there was ever a time for Sachin to steer the side to victory in a final, this had to be it.

An innings which had been long-awaited for a multitude of reasons - getting the monkey off his back with his first ODI hundred in Australia, a vital contribution towards a win in a crucial match of this magnitude after a long hiatus (bringing back memories of a windy Sharjah evening ten years ago) and the century barrier finally crossed after an army of scores in the nineties (I am talking ODIs here). Another jinx broken comprehensively was India's lack of a win in ODIs at the SCG - which surely now has to be officially rechristened 'Sachin's Cricket Ground'.

So great is the power of Brand Sachin today, that after every ton he scores nowadays, all the news channels get enough dough to run the entire day's bulletin purely on his achievement and records alone. There have been players a-plenty who have tried to usurp the throne Sachin has occupied (with grace and humility) for over a decade and three fourths, but none of them could match his high standards of consistency, class and dedication. Furthermore, this run-making genius is a complete team-man, and now a mentor to all the green-horned youngsters like Rohit Sharma and Uthappa. In fact as the captain, Dhoni said,"He has scored 16,000 runs. I haven't even played 16,000 balls."

I am not composing a eulogy here, for Sachin's days are not numbered, yet. However, he is in the twilight of his career, I don't deny that. What I want to say is, let's not discuss when and if Sachin should put up his boots. Leave it up to him to decide - we owe that much to him. Meanwhile, sit back and enjoy yet another master-class from the Master Craftsman.

Verve '08 - we came, we saw, we conquered

2008-02-14T22:38:00.001+05:30

The biggest cultural fest of Pune finally gave us a chance to lift the winners' trophy - AITians swept most of the prizes at Verve '08, paying homage to a college legacy lying forgotten for the last four years. No mean feat, considering the fact that over a hundred and twenty colleges were involved in the slug-fest. Now for a blow-by-blow account of the latest version of the popular brain-child of the Indian Express.

Day Zero. Registrations and Eliminations

Brochures were handed out, caution money collected and teams from the colleges registered for all of the sixteen events - all within a span of three days, and as many trips to the offices of the Express Youth Forum. (I felt that the G.S. meet on 2nd February was rather lacklustre and unnecessary as the schedule wasn't announced. We were instead asked to keep track of the Indian Express - daily schedules were to be published in there a day prior to the event. A sure-shot way of increasing its readership, yet slightly perturbing for the participants.)

Eliminations for Nupur (Choreo), Saaz (Light Indian Music) and Elaan (Western Music) were held from 4th to 7th February and the stage was set for the next three days.

Day One. The venue of Verve '08 this year was SP College in Pune. All the events slated to begin on the morning of the first day got indefinitely delayed as a cascading effect of a late inauguration. The eliminations of Wordsworth (Debate), Gabfest (GD) and Brain Sync (Quiz) were held in the 'Literrati' village. I got eliminated in Quiz, yet persevered to qualify for GD finals the next day (after discussing 'Why women make better managers than men' in a group which could've passed off as a fish market). The eliminations of Debate (impromptu topic) were highly interesting, thanks to an insightful and witty judge. My teammate (Apoorva Sharma) and I both spoke forcefully on the topic we picked, but I made the mistake of admitting that my personal opinion was contrary to my speech reiterating that the INC was not ruled by the Gandhis. We got through to the semifinals thankfully. Meanwhile, news trickled in that our college had not won anything in Rangoli or Funtoons (cartooning), however the team of Karan Mann and Aditya Pawar had made it to the Quiz finals. The other events of the morning were Street Play (Nautanki) and Mad Ads - our team 'advertised' their way to the finals of Bizarre Bazaar.

The afternoon was dominated by the Western Music semifinals, where a rendition of 'System of a Down' really got the crowd going. Towards late afternoon, another of my events was looming - the eliminations of Verbomania aka JAM (Just-A-Minute). I had Sidhant Gupta as my partner in crime here, and we actually breezed past the first two rounds of 'Moods' and 'Spin-a-yarn'. While other colleges stood astounded at the ease with which both of us cottoned on to eached other's sentences, these rounds were nothing new to us being hardened jammers. No surprise then, that we made it through to the finals with ease.

The finale to the first day was provided by the much-anticipated Nupur (Choreography) finals. All the AITians who had participated in various events in the day had made their way to the front of the stage to cheer on the team from AIT. Although our all-boys' team grooved nicely to the music, disappointment lay in store for us, as they didn't finish in the top three. A long day had come to an end, and we had no points in the kitty to show for it. Yet there were quite a few finals and results yet to come on the next day.

Day Two. The penultimate day had a bright start for our college as we came in third, both in Quiz and Mad Ads. We had been hoping for the top spot in both but it was still nice to finally have some runs on the board, as they say. I was in the GD finals at the same time. Everyone in the final GD was trying to lead the team, and the standard as a whole appeared to suffer. In the end, I bagged the second prize. My account for Verve '08 had begun.

Soon after the GD, we had Debate semifinals. I didn't quite do as well as i would have liked, yet we made it through to the next round after speaking our brains out on same-sex marriages. Up next were the finals of Just-A-Minute, and there were four teams on the stage. Without pretending to show any vestiges of modesty, I will venture to say that we brutally slaughtered the opposition. Again, I'd like to mention that the judge aka jam-master was exceptionally good.

Other events which took place on the day were Poster Making (theme: lifestyle 2008) and Flower Arrangement, where we couldn't quite wrangle a win. The evening saw the finals of Elaan and Saaz. A rocking performance from all the performers, especially NDA who belted out original compositions one year after the other. A violin and guitar 'jugalbandi' had the audience in raptures.

Three-fourths of the events were now done and dusted, AIT was now in the joint lead at a score of forty, with four events yet to go.

Day Three. Early in the morning of the 10th of Feb was held the finals of the Debate. The parliamentary round was made even more interesting by the innovative judge - either of the speakers on the stage could be Prime Minister, Leader of the Opposition or a member of the Govt or the Opposition at the whim of the judge. Also, one role could be played as many times as needed while discussing a particular bill. It was intense, it was tough and in the end, the rigorous three-day debate saw us standing tall as winners of Wordsworth. AITians now had their noses well in front.

The next event of the day was Alpha to Omega games - a fun games event. Extremely interesting, yet our team of Himanshu and Gaurav Mukherjee somehow got themselves disqualified in the first round which was a sack race.

All the effort put in on the previous days had to be showcased by the teams in Vervedict and Visual Terminal - in the form of a newsletter and a spoof video covering all the happenings of the entire fest. In Vervedict, we had a team of six girls led by Prachi Gogte. They based their newsletter on 'Pirates' in our Trump Card event, getting us an extra 10 points in the process. In Visual Terminal, my team i.e. Anshika Jain, Himanshu Gahlaut, Navneet Dhody and I created a spoof on the popular news channel NDTV 24x7, complete with newscasters, reporters and expert analysts. It was an out-of-the-world experience - making a movie, shooting, acting, editing, the works. (watch it @
http://clubjam.jammag.com/video/video/show?id=1230525:Video:25130)
Our college stood first and second in Vervedict and Visual Terminal respectively.

End result: after scoring 55 points out of a possible 80 on the last day and 95 points overall, we AITians had emerged as victors of Verve '08.

Lifting the trophy on stage was an exhilirating experience, even if we had been made to queue up for hours prior to the award ceremony, With four medals hanging around my neck, the resplendent glass trophy nestling in my hand and surrounded by my comrades, I was feeling like I was on top of the world in the true sense of the phrase. As I write this, the Verve '08 trophy sits proudly on my desk - a smile on my face which can never be outdone, three days that I can never forget.

Fergie Fiesta

2008-02-12T15:05:00.000+05:30

'All roads in Pune lead to Fergusson College' held true on the last three days of January. The various departments of FC each conducted their own fest at the same time - the multi-coloured posters giving the entire college a carnival-like atmosphere. 'Wallstreet '08' was perhaps the most reputed and popular of them all, hosted by the Economics Dept. However, 'Alchemy', 'Chimera', 'Psy Fy' et all were able to hold their own gracefully - especially Psy Fy with their crowd-pulling fun games and even more attractive all-girls organising team. To add to that, Psy Fy also included a free handwriting analysis and an outlet for other nuances from the 'psycho' field.

Coming back to Wallstreet, the main focus was on the overall trophy up for grabs. CME bagged the prize, adding another feather to their cap post their win in Youthopia '08. As the leader of the contingent from AIT, it was disapointing to lose out on the honour roll to CME yet again, however we did have a few individual performances to write home about. A couple of our final years' took the honours in the Travel game (Plot the Trot), while the artist of our college, Prachi Gogte drew her way to victory in 'Cartoon Capers'. Our 'Mad Ads' team put up a terrific show, but CME pipped them to the post here as well.

Personally speaking, I picked up a couple of second prizes in JAM (lost by an agonizing 1 second - sitting at the rightmost in pic) and Bail-out (the new version of Cliff-hanger, where you need to convince the judge to give you the last remaining parachute on a plane full of celebs heading for a crash). I think yours truly pulled off Michael Jackson, Catwoman and Rakhi Sawant with elan. However, I messed up the part where I was supposed to be a table - which is why I ended up a few inches short of victory. I tried my hand at Creative Writing and Poster-making too, but didn't make the cut in either. To add to the agony, I was later informed that there were 'no prizes for second place.'

Even though I lucked out in a couple of events, I didn't quite return empty-handed. I took back with me memories of a colourful, vibrant, fun-filled three days (made a fool of myself in some of the fun games at Psy Fy) and although CME had come up trumps yet again, we now had Verve to look forward to.

Jodhaa Akbar - Music Review

2008-02-03T23:42:00.000+05:30

The dispute over whether Jodhaa was Akbar's wife or daughter-in-law has meant that we have been forced to remain on tenterhooks a further fortnight before the release of the historic Jodhaa Akbar. For now, we have to make do with the music. The music is captivating and quite suited to the movie. Ashutosh Gowariker's third venture (post Lagaan and Swades) sees the same team of A R Rahman and Javed Akhtar in action again. I have been listening to the songs over and over again, and I have to admit - I'm impressed. Starting off with Azeem-O-Shaan Shahenshah, which is majestic and befitting at the same time, what impressed me most was the energy of Mohd Aslam and Bonny Chakravarti. Here I think a mention of the trailer would be prudent, in which the soundtrack just seemed to blend beautifully with the pictures.

Moving on to Jashn-E-Bahaara, perhaps the most popular song in the line-up (atleast my favourite). Javed Ali's silken smooth voice really does justice to this wonderfully emoted song - romantic and charming, this song has a way of sticking to the tip of your tongue. As you hum along to the tune in true karaoke fashion, you will thank A R Rahman for including an instrumental version in the release.

It has become a prerequisite of late to compile an album with two good songs and a couple of remixes to complete the picture. However, here the other songs are also thought out with extreme care and passion. Be it the leisured yet beguiling In Lamhon Ke Daaman Mein (Sonu Nigam with Madhushree), or the melodious plea in Mann Mohana, or even the Sulfi symphony Khwaja Mere Khwaja where A R Rahman himself wields the microphone (did not personally like the song but I am no connoisseur of that genre).

Having said all that, the soundtrack has got all of us even more eager to watch the movie. The soundtrack of this legendary romance is no less than an epic in itself.

DOTS...

2008-01-29T01:43:00.000+05:30

This is the topic I was confronted with at the 'Creative Writing' contest at Wall Street, Ferguson College earlier today. I can't exactly re-create what I wrote then, but it was something like...

"Murder lies not in the holding of a knife, but in the killing of a man.
The fault lies not in the blueprint, but in the execution of a plan."

The above two lines underline the ethos that you really need to strive in order to achieve what you desire. But that alone is not enough. You have to really work hard for it. That's how I interpret DOTS.

It is often understood that a 'dot' or a 'full-stop' is essentially the end - the end of a sentence, the end of any phrase. However, I look at a dot as not an end, but a beginning. Often a 'dot' is used to indicate nothing, zero, nada et al (just like in a cricket match you hear sighs of disappointment after a dot bowled). What I perceive that is that nothing is impossible once you decide that it falls under your purview and work really hard towards accomplishing your long-cherished dreams.

It is really quite easy to let yourself be carried with the flow and to fall in line with what the crowd want. It takes courage to stick your neck out and bear the brunt - that's what a dot signifies. In the words of King Renaldi from a popular motion picture, "Courage is not the absence of fear. It is the understanding that something is much more important than fear."

A dot continues to remind us to put our best foot forward - sentence after sentence, blank after blank, dot after dot. .(This last dot doesn't imply the end of the article, rather it signals the beginning of a poem)

'A dot,' thou speaketh, face all glum
'What use is it, my dear chum?'
You're obviously missing the intricacies galore
Why are you easily persuaded by folklore?

A dot is a beginning, it ain't the end.
Once you realise it, you'll be on the mend.
'Nothing,' they say, 'useless on the whole',
Those scientists who use it to depict Black Hole
What do they know? Their minds are in a stew
Cloning sheep to look more alike than they already do.

All that is gold does not glitter
Not all those who win need to plot
The one that is wise does not twitter
Everything I want to say, is summed up by a dot .

Are you kidding me?

2008-01-29T01:35:00.000+05:30

According to the 'MSN Weather Report', average temperatures in Pune during January look something like this.

January Avg Low: 11° Avg High: 30°

Which is why as I lay in bed sniffling and coughing, burning with fever, all I could think was, 'Are you kidding me?' The mercury has slipped to new low, literally adding to the chill caused by the sensex crash earlier last week. Today's newspaper blared the headline, "Coldest day in two decades - city records a minimum of 5.8 degrees" - that's more than five degrees below normal. Last winter's lowest was 9.1 degrees, in December 2006. The last few days have been very, very cold! Ask me.

Most of us in the hostel here don't even possess too many warm clothes - perceived by some as an unnecessary luxury. All we have are some light-weather jackets (i.e. wind-cheaters) and thickish sweatshirts. Unprepared for the cold, most of us were caught napping at the wrong time. To cut a long story short, half of the hostel population is now afflicted with viral fever. (Viral really seems to travel fast in the hostel where we all dine at the same mess, drinking water from the same glasses rinsed over and recycled).

I have been bed-ridden for more than a couple of days now. I was not at all ready to tackle the cold wave - weather in the days preceding this sudden climactic about-turn had been quite pleasant and even tending heavily towards the warmer side. Which, I might add, is perfectly commonplace for Pune. I had already consigned my winter-wear to the trunk and was even riding my bike in the evenings without even a wind-cheater. That's how I caught the flu, and suffered from high fever as a consequence. To add to my woes, the antibiotic I took to alleviate my misery gave me a huge bruise on my upper lip as a gruesome side-effect (and I'm seriously sick of explaining people how I got my lip disfigured - half of them think I got into a fight, while the others believe...hem, hem...).

Not even close to being the perfect way to spend the weekend - far from it. On a more positive note, finally got to finish watching all episodes of 'That 70s show' lounging in bed. Also, got some really whacky ideas to try out this semester - as they say, nothing like an idle mind.

“Light and Shadow”

2008-01-28T13:42:00.000+05:30

(An excerpt from Brisingr, Book 3 of the Inheritance Cycle)

Saphira kneaded the soil beneath her feet. Let us be off! Leaving their bags and supplies hanging from the branch of a juniper tree, Eragon and Roran clambered onto Saphira’s back. They wasted no time saddling her; she had worn her tack through the night. The molded leather was warm, almost hot, underneath Eragon. He clutched the neck spike in front of him—to steady himself during sudden changes in direction—while Roran hooked one thick arm around Eragon’s waist and brandished his hammer with the other.

A piece of shale cracked under Saphira’s weight as she settled into a low crouch and then, in a single giddy bound, leaped up to the rim of the gulch, where she balanced for a moment before unfolding her massive wings. The thin membranes thrummed as Saphira raised them toward the sky. Vertical, they looked like two translucent blue sails.

“Not so tight,” grunted Eragon.
“Sorry,” said Roran. He loosened his embrace.
Further speech became impossible as Saphira jumped again.

When she reached the pinnacle of her jump, she brought her wings down with a mighty whoosh, driving the three of them even higher. With each subsequent flap, they climbed closer to the flat, narrow clouds that extended east to west.

As Saphira angled toward Helgrind, Eragon glanced to his left and discovered that, because of their elevation, he could see a broad swath of Leona Lake some miles distant. A thick layer of mist, gray and ghostly in the pre-dawn glow, emanated from the water, as if witchfire burned upon the surface of the liquid. Eragon tried, but even with his hawklike vision, he could not make out the far shore, nor the southern reaches of the Spine beyond, which he regretted. He had not laid eyes upon the mountain range of his childhood since leaving Palancar Valley.

To the north stood Dras-Leona, a huge, rambling mass that appeared as a blocky silhouette against the wall of mist that edged its western flank. The one building Eragon could identify was the cathedral where the Ra’zac had attacked him; its flanged spire
loomed above the rest of the city, like a barbed spearhead. And somewhere in the landscape that rushed past below, Eragon knew, were the remnants of the campsite where the Ra’zac had mortally wounded Brom. He allowed all of his anger and grief over the events of that day—as well as Garrow’s murder and the destruction of their farm—to surge forth and give him the courage, nay, the desire, to face the Ra’zac in combat.

Eragon, said Saphira. Today we need not guard our minds and keep our thoughts secret from one another, do we?

Not unless another magician should appear.

A fan of golden light flared into existence as the top of the sun crested the horizon. In an instant, the full spectrum of colors enlivened the previously drab world: the mist glowed white, the water became a rich blue, the daubed-mud wall that encircled the center of Dras-Leona revealed its dingy yellow sides, the trees cloaked themselves in every shade of green, and the soil blushed red and orange. Helgrind, however, remained as it always was—black.

The mountain of stone rapidly grew larger as they approached. Even from the air, it was intimidating.
Diving toward the base of Helgrind, Saphira tilted so far to her left, Eragon and Roran would have fallen if they had not already strapped their legs to the saddle. Then she whipped around the apron of scree and over the altar where the priests of Helgrind observed their ceremonies. The lip of Eragon’s helm caught the wind from her passage and produced a howl that almost deafened him.
“Well?” shouted Roran. He could not see in front of them. “The slaves are gone!”
A great weight seemed to press Eragon into his seat as Saphira pulled out of her dive and spiraled up around Helgrind, searching for an entrance to the Ra’zac’s hideout.

Not even a hole big enough for a woodrat, she declared. She slowed and hung in place before a ridge that connected the third lowest of the four peaks to the prominence above. The jagged buttress magnified the boom produced by each stroke of her wings until it was as loud as a thunderclap. Eragon’s eyes watered as the air pulsed against his skin.
A web of white veins adorned the backside of the crags and pillars, where hoarfrost had collected in the cracks that furrowed the rock. Nothing else disturbed the gloom of Helgrind’s inky, windswept ramparts. No trees grew there among the slanting stones, nor shrubs, nor grass, nor moss, nor lichen, nor did eagles dare nest upon the tower’s broken ledges. True to its name, Helgrind was a place of death, and stood cloaked in the razor-sharp, sawtoothed folds of its scarps and clefts like a bony specter risen to haunt the earth.
Casting his mind outward, Eragon confirmed the presence of one of the slaves, as well as the two people whom he had discovered imprisoned within Helgrind the previous day, but to his concern, he could not locate the Ra’zac or the Lethrblaka. If they aren’t here, then where? he wondered. Searching again, he noticed something that had eluded him before: a single flower, a gentian, blooming not fifty feet in front of them where, by all rights, there ought to be solid rock. How does it get enough light to live?
Saphira answered his question by perching on a crumbling spur several feet to the right. As she did, she lost her balance for a moment and flared her wings to steady herself. Instead of brushing against the bulk of Helgrind, the tip of her right wing dipped into the rock and then back out again.
Saphira, did you see that!

I did.
Leaning forward, Saphira pushed the tip of her snout toward the sheer rock, paused an inch or two away—as if waiting for a trap to spring—then continued her advance. Scale by scale, Saphira’s head slid into Helgrind, until all that was visible of her to Eragon was a neck, torso, and wings.
It’s an illusion! exclaimed Saphira.
With a surge of her mighty thews, she abandoned the spur and flung the rest of her body after her head. It required every bit of Eragon’s self-control not to cover his face in a desperate bid to protect himself as the crag rushed toward him.
An instant later, he found himself looking at a broad, vaulted cave suffused with the warm glow of morning. Saphira’s scales refracted the light, casting thousands of shifting blue flecks across the rock. Twisting around, Eragon saw no wall behind them, only the mouth of the cave and a sweeping view of the landscape beyond.
Eragon grimaced. It had never occurred to him that Galbatorix might have hidden the Ra’zac’s lair with magic. Idiot! I have to do better, he thought. Underestimating the king was a sure way to get them all killed.
Roran swore and said, “Warn me before you do something like that again.”
Hunching forward, Eragon unbuckled his legs from the saddle as he studied their surroundings, alert for any danger.
The opening to the cave was an irregular oval, perhaps fifty feet high and sixty feet wide. From there, the chamber expanded to twice that size before ending a good bowshot away in a pile of thick stone slabs that leaned against each other in a confusion of uncertain angles. A mat of powder-gray scratches defaced the floor, evidence of the many times the Lethrblaka had taken off, landed, and walked about thereon. Like mysterious keyholes, five low tunnels pierced the sides of the cave, as did a lancet passageway large enough to accommodate Saphira. Eragon examined the tunnels carefully, but they were pitch-black and appeared vacant, a fact he confirmed with quick thrusts of his mind. Strange, disjointed murmurs echoed from within Helgrind’s innards, suggesting unknown things scurrying about in the dark, and endlessly dripping water. Adding to the chorus of whispers was the steady rise and fall of Saphira’s breathing, which was overloud in the confines of the bare chamber.
The most distinctive feature of the cavern, however, was the mixture of odors that pervaded it. The smell of cold stone dominated, but underneath it, Eragon discerned whiffs of damp and mold and something far worse: the sickly-sweet fetor of rotting meat.
Undoing the last few straps, Eragon swung his right leg over Saphira’s spine, so he was sitting sidesaddle, and prepared to jump off her back. Roran did the same on the opposite side.
Before he released his hold, Eragon heard, amid the many rustlings that teased his ear, a score of simultaneous clicks, as if someone had struck the rock with a collection of hammers. The sound repeated itself a half-second later.
He looked in the direction of the noise, as did Saphira.
A huge, twisted shape hurtled out of the lancet passageway. Eyes black, bulging, rimless. A beak seven feet long. Batlike wings. The torso naked, hairless, rippling with muscle. Claws like iron spikes.
Saphira lurched as she tried to evade the Lethrblaka, but to no avail. The creature crashed into her right side with what felt to Eragon like the strength and fury of an avalanche.
What exactly happened next, he knew not, for the impact sent him tumbling through space without so much as a half-formed thought in his jumbled brain. His blind flight ended as abruptly as it began when something hard and flat rammed against the back of him, and he dropped to the floor, banging his head a second time.
That last collision drove the remaining air clean out of Eragon’s lungs. Stunned, he lay curled on his side, gasping and struggling to regain a semblance of control over his unresponsive limbs.
Eragon! cried Saphira.

First day at the gym

2008-01-12T12:09:00.000+05:30

Puff! Pant! Was that just the warm-up? I am already tired. Here we go - first day at the gym. A few rather well-chosen comments from some friends (who am i kidding, all my friends blatantly call me 'fat' nowadays) and I decided enough was enough. Time to shed some kilos (especially time to remove the spare tyre hanging around my waist) and maybe even set out towards getting that perfectly sculpted body one always dreams of owning. As I stepped in (after an invigorating game of tennis and a tired jog from the court), the college's gym instructor confronted me. The first thing he addressed was my flab and my diet. The first thing he did was rebuff my eating habits and give me a talk on what to eat and what to queet (quit).

Visions of working out and getting those hugely toned biceps ala Arnold Schwarzenegger were soon pushed out of my mind - the instructor told me to concentrate only on my bulging tummy and that we'd work on the upper arms much later. Sigh! As he pointed out the machines I should use and how, I looked around to notice that the gym looked more crowded than I'd imagined - people were going hammer and tongs at almost every piece of gym equipment available to them. Surely, that guy was lifting more weight than I could imagine to do in a lifetime. And that other guy was cranking up bench-presses as if there was no tomorrow. They were all pros! Or, so it seemed like. That's when the embarrassment and consciousness factor crept in and struck a double body blow. The only thing I wanted was to get away from there as soon as possible. I was brought back to Earth by the sound of the instructor hanging out a rod to me and telling me to get to work.

Well, I tried the torso twist first, then set myself on the incline for a round of sit-ups. I put in fifteen-odd and climbed off. I was feeling a little strain in my protruding stomach now - was happy to notice that because it probably meant that the exercise was having some effect. I cast my eyes towards the door and noticed that the instructor was just leaving. Relieved a little, I headed to the nearest contraption with a seat - as soon as I sat down for a breather, excruciating pain gripped my stomach - near the lower abdomen.

It felt as if I couldn't move, or do anything at all except clutch my flabby front and wince. A friend of mine soon came up to me and helped me ease the pain by making me stand up and asking me to rub my stomach a little. Soon the pain subsided and I was thanking my friend for his help. I felt like I could very well have done without it the next moment as he told me that it was possible that I had gotten a hernia damage. Apparently, his father had felt pain in the same region after a game of Tug-o-war, and he got diagnosed with hernia. It scared me out of my wits, though I appeared to be optimistic and laughed it off.

I had definitely had enough for my first day at the gym (give me tennis or football any day instead) - it was time to head back to my room. Gym again the next day? You got to be kidding me.

Book Review - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

2008-01-10T22:35:00.003+05:30

Original post : July 20, 2005

ALERT: This is a spoiler review. In case you don't want to know who dies, or what unusual twists are there in the sixth edition of the Potter tale, please stop reading right now.

The penultimate release in a series of seven books (which seem to be getting progressively darker and gloomier among other things), Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince has lived up to the hype and razzmatazz surrounding its release.

Book Six starts at the Muggle Prime Minister's office, meanders its way through the school year full of enterprising new characters, revelations from the past, Quidditch matches, teenage jealousies and rivalries, and ends in a surprisingly treacherous death for the 'greatest wizard ever'.

As promised, the book does tie up quite a few loose ends including the mystery shrouding the continued existence of Voldemort (sorry, I mean You-Know-Who) after the spell that backfired years ago.

The book also has some of its own additions to the unknown -- the identity of RAB, for example.

Then again, the two new major characters introduced in the book seem to be much more mundane than the ones introduced in the last few (the character of Horace pales in comparison to those of Moody and Dolores Umbridge, and Rufus Scrimgeour is not even half as interesting as Fudge), but there could be much more beneath the surface.

The new Minister for Magic (whose description had been published months before the launch and was widely rumoured to be a sketch of the Half-Blood Prince) is boring at best. He neither appears to be blinded by the power of holding office like Cornelius Fudge, nor does he seem to be a 'good guy'. Like I said, there could be more to him than what meets the eye.

Horace Slughorn, the new Potions teacher, is perhaps the most intriguing of the new characters. The way in which he tries to cast his influence over the students of his 'Slug Club' makes him a person to watch out for. We also must not also forget he has been the Head of Slytherin House during his previous tenure as teacher. Overall, though, Professor Slughorn comes out as annoying and dull, with greed etched all over him, not unlike Professor Lockhart.

The private lessons Harry has with Dumbledore are far more incisive than anything else in the book. Their frequent walks down memory lane (courtesy the Pensieve) investigating Tom Riddle's past comprise what could well be the most crucial events in the lead up to the finish. These lessons are also the last moments that Harry gets to spend with the ageing Headmaster of Hogwarts.

As the title suggests, the book has much more to do with Severus Snape (as it turns out the Half-Blood Prince was his nickname) than ever before -- he finally gets the coveted Defense Against The Dark Arts appointment he has always wanted. The jinx on the job remains though -- Snape lasts just one year as the DADA teacher.

In the end, when Snape finally shows his true colours as Voldemort's henchman and backstabs Dumbledore, the readers are left bewildered. How could Dumbledore have trusted Snape so much? Harry and Ron were right all along -- Snape was not to be trusted. The voice of reason (which generally sounds like Hermione) was wrong -- all evidence of Snape's solidarity and integrity towards Dumbledore seen in previous books appears to be made up after all. Makes some readers wonder if Rowling changed the plot for this book.

True, most readers might wonder at the need to finish off one of the most pivotal characters in the story but, to me, the death of Albus Dumbledore sets up the perfect situation for a grand finale -- Harry alone on a mission with no one to pave the way for him, no guiding lights for him to follow.

This was exactly how J K Rowling must have planned it. It's finally up to Harry -- he alone will have to face the Dark Lord. As he had nervously said in the first book, it's 'just Harry' now -- just Harry against Lord Voldemort and his band of Death Eaters, bolstered by the now open support of the Half-Blood Prince.

Even though the book seems to have enough positives to gloss over the few minuses it possesses, I believe this review would be incomplete if I didn't mention them.

For one, the typical style in which Rowling generally writes seems to have tapered off a bit in this one -- the conversations and action seem to eclipse Harry's thoughts and emotions, which had always been put forward in an exceptional Rowling-ish way. Remember the way Harry's stomach would clench and unclench whenever Cho was around? With Ginny, he only associates a smell. There were no descriptions of his feelings or the sudden realisation that he likes her.

Actually, I believe it would have been better for the book to be longer, the plot remaining the same, but the story moving at a slower pace.

Also, the snogging was more than a bit excessive. Ron behaves as a complete jerk in parts of the book, though it could be said in his defense that Ginny had infuriated him. But did he have to be 'Won-Won' for so long just to prove a point? Couldn't he have gone straight to Hermione?

Also, Draco Malfoy suddenly graduating to a Death Eater at such a young age seemed way off the mark -- there was no need to deprive the readers of the usual verbal duels between Harry and Malfoy. The small skirmish right at the beginning of the school year, and the fierce battle halfway through (where Harry uses an unknown spell from the book of the Half-Blood Prince nearly killing Malfoy) are all we get.

At the fag end of the book, Rowling uses a concept that seems to have become almost a prerequisite for saving the world lately. Like in the movies involving the superheroes Spiderman and Batman, Harry tells Ginny they cannot be together anymore as Voldemort would look at her as Harry's weakness and might harm her to get to him. But surely, as Dumbledore had told Harry, love was supposed to be Harry's strength, the power which 'the Dark Lord knows not'. Hopefully it will be with the help of this power of love that Harry will conquer Voldemort in the grand finale.

When the seventh and final Potter novel finally arrives, would it be too much to hope that the hero prevails, not because he can manfully sacrifice his capacity for love, but because he can't?

Help me! I'm lost...(I think)..

2008-01-08T20:05:00.000+05:30

Now that my fifth semester of engineering is over, it is but natural that I am beginning to look harder and deeper into the future. I am not quite certain of the path ahead of me, unsure of where to find my footing in a place blanketed by mist. 'To B.E. or not to be, that's the question'.

While the GATEs are always open to me, technically speaking, I always reckoned that I was meant for GREatness. Then again, it's quite possible that the CAT has got my tongue and the only option I have left is to go down on the mat, GMAT, that is.

Before MAGging for so far a target, I should first get my bearings right. I had held the belief that I was (Micro)soft by nature, but now I have learnt that I didn't score heavily enough in the exams to placate the placement officer and WIP(RO)e the competition. Info(sys)rmation if I had considered earlier and been more PERSISTENT, I might just have had a chance to say 'Impossible says I(B)M possible.' Or maybe, I could have polished my ACCENT(URE) enough to land a job in an environment of my liking.

I chose to venture on this hi(tech)way of life because switching on the computer does give me a boot...kick, i mean. And I don't 'C' any reason why I should get (key)bored of computer engineering so easily. Actually, I had always been slightly inclined towards sports, but in due time I realized that I would be (tennis-)elbowed out of any team due to a lack of certain skills to support my sporting knowledge. But now I find myself leaning towards the literary side of things with careers in journalism and the like looking quite appealing.

I guess I'm still pottering about, undecided where to go next, lost in the haze which shrouds my present and the future. Maybe I am getting a bit too crowded in the head, and it is quite possible that I am on the right track and need to just keep plodding on. Or, it could even be that I am miserably lost and heading in a direction which not only had I never envisaged, but also zeroing in on a place where I would find myself completely out of my depth. Or, maybe I should just quit worrying. Like a wise old gentleman once remarked, "It ain't over till the fat lady sings." Erm...do I hear something?

CYG 2008 : Cometh Ye Games to Pune 2008

2008-01-08T18:25:00.000+05:30

CYG 2008. I went around asking people if they knew what it stood for. It took a while for the collegians of the city to arrive at the right answer. Some jested, others jeered. A rather cheeky 'dude' came up with 'Call Yourself Gay?' No comment.

Jokes aside, Pune is gearing up for the third edition of the Commonwealth Youth Games, come October this year. From Edinburgh, Scotland to Bendigo in Australia earlier, the Games now shift base to Pune. Glorified as the 'Detroit of the East' and the 'Oxford of the South', Pune is apt for the Youth Games, especially since it is brimming with youngsters - a little birdie reports that it also plays host to (allegedly) the largest two-wheeler population in the country (and yet my college refuses to lift the ban on bikes for all save fourth-years').

A younger cousin (rather distant) to the more-popular Commonwealth Games (yeah, Chalo Dilli in 2010), the CYG barely elicits a response as far as audience interest is concerned. However, it's a shot in the arm for the city and its development, in particular. The budget for the CYG provides for a whopping Rs 192.5 crores, while the city got another financial boost with the Centre clearing Rs 270 crore for improving the infrastructure in Pune (as reported in the news).

Pune, with a supposedly rich sporting history, has had a rather disappointing experience with sporting events of late - just last year a cricket match was relocated to Kolkata at the last moment, and the stadium is still in ruin (sob, I had managed, with extreme difficulty, to convince the most beautiful girl in college to go the game with me).

It is not the sporting legacy of Pune alone which could do with a little fillip. The monsoon season leaves the roads in tatters year after year and the government abandons them as a lost cause (i so wanted to use 'turn a blind eye' here, that's almost an accompanying phrase with government). The Puneites are left grumbling about it after every pothole they encounter, and every time they feel jarred to the bone. Thanks to the Games looming on the horizon, not only are all roads getting repaired pronto, the city has also witnessed the widening of the roads - something not much desired alone but rather a necessity with the ever-burgeoning traffic on the narrow, stick-thin lanes on the city streets (ask me! I trudge through these very lanes day in and day out).

The erstwhile run-of-the-mill airport is also getting a makeover at last - it had long been a disgrace to the cosmopolitan spirit of the city. With the Games being declared as a 'Green Games' event by the UN, another innovation has come to the fore - the BRTS system. I am personally a huge fan of any step which makes separate lanes for the buses - the monstrous ineptly-handled contraptions would be much better off on track of their own, as will the rest of the civilized-world traffic without them. (The authorities are also cracking down heavily on offenders straying onto the secluded track - personal experience, fined a couple of hundred bucks).

The games will be held at Shiv Chhatrapati sports complex—-a one-of-it’s-kind-project in the country when built in 1993. The complex is roughly twenty k's from the airport. Perhaps a little way out distance-wise, but the extra miles have proven to be a boon in disguise for the derelict roads, as the BRTS is in the process of being expanded to span the entire length from the airport to the complex.

Here are a few more interesting details and facts of the Games for your palate.

71 countries
9 sports disciplines
CYG also know as 'Friendly Games'
Mascot : ‘Jigrr’ the tiger (younger brother of Shera, mascot of Delhi 2010)
Jigrr comes from the hindi Jigar, which implies courage and the sound of a tiger roar (grr)
Symbol : Quaich, a two-handled silver cup (unique to Scotland, like the kilt and bagpipes)
The Quaich is handed down from one host nation to the next
Budget : a whopping Rs 192.5 crores

When asked about CYG, Prachi Gogte, student of AIT, Pune had this to say,"I got no clue about this thing you've asked to give an opinion on...but yeah ...it makes me happy to see the new road projects that have started to prepare the city for it."

Now, for the final analysis. The city of Pune will benefit immensely from an event of this magnitude, even if the Games do fizzle out and fail to rake in the moolah. However, they do possess the potential to hog the limelight, at least in sporting circles. Whether they deliver on the promise or not, that's the question.

So, is Pune all set for the Commonwealth Youth Games 2008? I leave the last word to Dax, from Symbiosis College. He says," Pune's prepared for CYG. Reason - I'm here. Bring on the chicks!"

JAM versus JAM

2008-01-02T17:59:00.000+05:30

We have quite a few variants of the word 'jam' in the English dictionary, so let's not delve too deep into that linguistic fracas - the godforsaken language has too many meanings for the same word. This is about two rather popular versions of the acronym J.A.M. I have a particular liking for both the JAM's in question - one being Just Another Magazine and the other, Just A Minute.

While all of us would be well aware of what Just Another Magazine is (duh, another magazine!), I believe Just A Minute does need a little introduction. A game-show made popular on BBC Radio 4, Just a Minute was devised by the late Ian Messiter who came up with the idea while taking a ride through the busy streets of *gosh, I don't remember* by bus. He had recollected the task of speaking for one entire minute without hesitation or deviation, given as a punishment by a school teacher.

Well, that set the ball rolling and thirty five years down the line, JAM is now much more than just a game-show for celebrities on BBC. It has now become an awesomely popular literary event, rubbing shoulders with debates, elocutions and whatnot in inter-college competitions and the like (at least in Pune). Personally I love the feeling of adrenaline rush you get when you stop (rather JAM) a fellow participant midway through his speech either by calling out JAM or banging your palm on the table (in my case both rather vehemently and with over-exuberance). Talking through without any grammatical error, hesitation, deviation, repitition, stutter (or stammer), slurring (that's rolling your r's and s's) et al... it takes a lot out of you. Believe me, playing JAM (er, I mean participating in the literary event JAM) is one of the most exhilarating experiences you will ever have, on the literal plane.

Even with all these differences, there are somethings which are quite similar between JAM magazine, and JAM the speaking event...

Both involve engaging the use of top-notch English
Full to the brim with hilarious moments (You won't believe the kind of comic turn certain JAM conversations take)
The funnier you are, the heavier you score
You're penalised heavily for grammatical errors
You hesitate, you lose
Huge avenues for creativity and ingenuity
Excellent platform for guiltless people-bashing without letting them feel victimised
A platform where you score heavily for being egregiously gregarious
Plagiarism is a crime with a capital C
Most importantly...they're both great fun!!!

So, happy JAMMING....

New year resolutions and all the brouhaha

2008-01-01T22:45:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: This article is not intended to hurt the sentiments of any person (living or dead) who may believe in (or like to believe in) the strength of New Year Resolutions. All the statistics, loosely mentioned, are purely fictitious. All comments, if considered offensive, are not intended to harm any particular sect of society and are meant for mankind..whoops..humankind as a whole. Oh, and yeah, Happy New Year.

Who Is Janus?: Janus is an ancient Roman god who is associated with doorways and beginnings. A two-faced god, he looks to the future and the past.

You must be thinking I've gone bonkers to have New Year Resolutions as the title and here I am talking about a Roman god (it has to be the small 'g' here because he is one of the 'gods' rather than the God). Well, nope - no need to call in for the strait-jacket. It is said that Janus is associated with the entire concept of New Year Resolutions. Now that's all I know about the matter - so is it the fact that he is associated with beginnings, or the fact that he is two-faced. That is the question. And it has nothing to do with the fact that his name sounds eerily similar to that of an intermittently regular character from Friends.

Every time we make a New Year Resolution, we take stock of where our life is headed and try to find out where the missing pieces of the puzzle are. Once taken, following the pledge to the letter epitomizes our discipline and dedication towards the cause. In short, it is a kind of mental cleansing that we undergo. So if we follow our resolutions to the letter, we would undoubtedly emerge as better people. These small vows made public trigger a personal renaissance of sorts, towards a much more fulfilling life.

Ahem, ahem. Whom are we kidding? I have indulged in this ostentatious exercise on many an occasion in the past. Different resolutions, pledges of varying levels of hardship and excruciating schedules to achieve them all. The results, though, have always been the same - disastrous. Last year, I had made a long list of seven resolutions, and went around announcing it to all and sundry. I made a huge song and dance of it in the hope that all the social pressure would force me to stay true to my objectives for 2007. This was in concordance with the secret to keeping on track I had read in The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari. No points for guessing what happened next. I hardly made it through a fortnight, and come the 1st of January 2008 - I am again left with the same set of goals to pursue as last year. Maybe I should save time and make it an annual occurrence on my Outlook calendar. No, I don't keep a calendar. Maybe I should. Oh yes! This should be my resolve this year. I'll stick to a plan I chalk out for the entire year in the new calendar I will keep. And then, I could always find time for the gym every morning. Also, the book I always wanted to pen down. And yes, I'll finally kick that stupid habit of mine. And also, I could...

May all your troubles last as long as your New Year's resolutions.

Travel Diary

2007-12-30T12:37:00.000+05:30

I mentioned that my exams are behind me now - last one was on Christmas Eve. Well, it was onwards home after that. The journey back to Shriganganagar (yes it exists, and i call it home!) from Pune was split into two legs (more like two trains) - first, a 30-hr long trip by Jhelum, overnight stay at Delhi, and then another 7-hr long train trip from delhi to ganganagar. Loads of transit time, and I managed to observe quite a few intricate details of my fellow passengers' actions. Here's a lowdown on Train Travel in India...some funny incidents

Hey! That's my luggage space...Whether it be a sleeper coach or chair car, A/C or non-A/C, the great Indian Train passengers are divided in two on the issue of storing luggage. One sect believes in the age-old axiom 'first come first serve', while the other group believes any space below their seat(or even overhead for that matter) is meant for their luggage. What happens when members of the two sects collide? Fireworks. There was this gentleman in the chair car, who came to occupy his seat and discovered that the luggage rack was full to the brim on both sides. He belonged to the second sect (read above) and proceeded to lug a suitcase (which wasn't vouched for) out of the rack and made enough space to hoist his own bag in there. Well, pretty soon the owner of the dumped bag turned up. No points for guessing he was in the first group. Heated words were exchanged, some expletives used (poor kids around) and in the end, the guy had to collect his bag and walk off grumpily, because unfortunately for him most of the onlookers belonged to the second sect.

Keep an eye on those kids... This is something which had me annoyed all the way from Pune to Delhi. I was sitting on a side berth chatting with my friends for the most part of the journey, and every few minutes, a child would walk all over me. Don't get me wrong, I am quite fond of kids. But after a while it just seemed like they were spending their entire journey moving to and fro in the narrow passageway. Probably having a competition over who can elicit a louder scream from me. My friend also had his share of trouble with those kids. One shoe of his went missing from the pair. He finally managed to extricate it from underneath another berth, and one of those kids kept banging him with a bottle on his head and laughing all the while. No doubt it was them who'd hidden his shoe. Parents, for god's sake, keep an eye on your kids!

Whose bag is that? Oh no...A bomb! Another anecdote from the Jhelum trip again. Like I mentioned there was a huge group of us, but all of us had berths in different places. So, we had chained our heavy luggage in place, and congregated at a comfortable seat. Well, another friend of mine had left her backpack on her berth. Soon, the TTE told her that she had better go and claim it as her own, because her bag was arousing suspicions among her fellow passengers - even a bomb scare. They were passing it around, wary and cautious - someone had even thought of calling in the police, probably flanked by sniffer dogs. Thankfully, they didn't throw it out.

Look up...the sky's falling! Not exactly funny but two incidents here, one involving me. I mentioned the chair car and the overflowing luggage rack. Well, one small briefcase literally decided to fly right out and hit the lady in front smack on the head. Luckily for her, she escaped unhurt. What still amazes me is how that briefcase managed to escape the closely-packed rack. Even more shocked and apologetic was the guy whose briefcase it was. After that, he didn't dare lift it up again. The briefcase in question spent the remainder of the journey leaning against his seat, doing no more harm. Another incident saw me drop a poly bag from the upper berth (in another trip) by mistake (well, it slipped..can happen to anyone). There was a family of four sitting down below enjoying their lunch, and it fell in no man's land, but just an inch or two away from their three to five-year old son. Gosh, he kept staring at me for the next fifteen minutes straight. I felt so clumsy and awkward. Again, luckily no harm done.

The old switch-a-roo.. If you have experienced it first-hand, you will know how annoying it is to be asked to exchange your berth with a certain berth no in so-and-so coach...especially if you have boarded the train in the middle of the night! At the other side of the coin, it is frustrating when you want a change, and you can't quite manage it as the other party is reluctant. There was this incident again which I thing merits a mention. It was round about 2 am - everyone was asleep save yours truly and a friend in an upper berth (A/C 3). A family with two ladies (one rather old) occupied four of the remaining seats in the coupe (yeah the same family from the previous incident) and they had occupied all the lower ones, even though they had an upper berth too. When the rightful ticket-holder to the lower berth came in, the old lady sleeping there did not wake. Her son did (he was also at best middle-aged) and asked the young man to take the upper berth. As the young guy had a girl with him, and their other berth was a side one, he requested the family to also adjust with him and for the man to take a side berth and he would take their upper berth. Well the family refused to adjust and wanted only the young man to do so. Push came to shove, and they started arguing with raised voices, waking up half the coach. In the end, the young guy mercifully relented (after almost all the lights had been turned on). To be fair, it is nice to offer a lower berth to the elderly, and I almost always find myself at the topmost berth, regardless of what my ticket says. I also remember shifting from one coach to another to accommodate a family last time round. Things that people make you do in the name of goodwill.

It says 9 to 6 on the sign... We all have read the sign which says lights are to be out after nine o'clock at night, and the berth down etc etc. But we all know it's not a rule to be laid-down, so long as you're not getting in anyone's way. Well, not quite. During another train trip, a friend and I were having dinner up on the upper berth (again!) when the people below us (having just finished dinner themselves) decided to turn in. A lady (I think it was) looked at us eating, looked at her watch (it must've been 9.15 or so) and promptly turned the lights off. It was shockingly amazing. We had to persuade them, and I mean really convince them to leave the light on long enough for us to finish our meal, and not quite in peace. Honestly!

Well these are some of the weird incidents I remember off the top of my head. And if you thought this kind of behaviour is only restricted to train travel, you're mistaken. The Great Indian Travel Sensibility does traverse to the airlines too - what with stuffed overhead cabins, arguments with fellow passengers over sharing the armrest, threatening the air hostesses and well, the list is endless. To be perfectly honest, life wouldn't be half as fun without annoying people around to make you laugh. All I have to say is - Bon voyage!

Join CLUB JAM

2007-12-28T19:18:00.001+05:30

This is for all the JAM readers out there. Join Club JAM - a social networking site for all JAMmers.join it @ clubjam.jammag.com
I am the 612th member to register on it.

Movie Review - Taare Zameen Par

2007-12-28T17:35:00.000+05:30

Well I'm back. Exams are done and dusted. Don't really want to think about them any more. But well, let's just look ahead to better things in life, shall we? There was a three day gap before my last exam, and I just managed to get tickets on the first day for Taare Zameen Par. Here's my take on it.

The directorial debut of Aamir Khan, Taare Zameen Par really did live up to all the expectations one has come to expect from an Aamir Khan movie. It was supposedly aimed at children, but just about everyone would have found great meaning in this emotional roller-coaster.

The tale of a young boy, Ishan (Darsheel Safary), the story hits the audience not in the face, but goes straight to the heart. Having flunked once in the third grade already and headed towards a similar result the following year, Ishan is misunderstood by everyone and ill-treated by most. Not able to find a niche for himself at school or with friends, Ishan finds solace only in his mother's comforting arms. The mother is caring and kind but the father is not able to come to terms with the fact that their younger child is so different from their award-winning, top-scoring first-born. Ishan also shares a special rapport with his elder brother, who goes as far as to forge "absent notes" to dig Ishan out of trouble. In fact, the elder brother angle is so well portrayed that I couldn't help but feel a huge surge of emotions inside me, for my own elder brother - who is miles away as I write this (miss you bro!).

It comes as a rude shock to little buck-toothed Ishan when he suddenly finds himself being sent to boarding school, courtesy his tyrannic and heavy-handed father. He struggles even more staying on his own, not even able to knot a tie on his own. Poor thing. The poignant moment when his parents drive away after dropping Ishan off at the hostel leaves everyone moved(inside sources tell us that here's where the waterworks generally started, in particular for all members of the female species, and also a few guys..hey I'm not an MCP). And all this when Aamir Khan doesn't even come in till the intermission!

The second half had its own charm - the unique bond created between teacher and student, Aamir figuring out the boy's unique speciality, motivating him to find his strengths and egging him on to play to his strengths. Wish all school teachers could be that good with children.

Technically speaking, the movie has a very uplifting soundtrack - appears to be apt for the mood (really liked the motivational theme music near the end). Also, some pretty cool play with animations to showcase the fantasy world that Ishan lives in. One sequence in particular where Ishan figures out "3 x 3" definitely had me in splits.

The outstanding performance by Darsheel Safary definitely deserves a standing ovation. The way in which he just "stares" at his father when he's getting himself brow-beaten, the well of emotions he appears to conceal and just the style with which he delivers all the amazing one-liners such as 'The letters are dancing!' The cute little kid has definitely made a lot of fans with this one.

All in all, a heady mix of emotions in this spell-binding movie. A must-watch for everyone, and that too with the entire family in tow, if possible. Wonder how often we can get to say that nowadays. ;)

Famous Five and Five Find Outers

2007-12-07T13:25:00.000+05:30

Here's my first try at writing a story - way back in 2000. I had combined two of Enid Blyton's favourite character sets in one story. It's quite unfinished though. I'm sure those of you who enjoyed Enid Blyton's work in your childhood will appreciate the effort. Hope you enjoy reading it.

1. Vacation - and a shock for Mr. Goon

‘ Ah! Peace and quiet at last,’ exclaimed Mr. Goon, the police constable of Peterswood, as he boarded a train at the station, ‘ No meddling kids and pesky mutts to bother me, especially that toad of a boy.’

Mr. Goon was off on a vacation to Kirrin Bay. It was the month of May and the Five Find-Outers had not yet come back from school for the summer vacation. Mr. Goon, who wanted a vacation, decided to go to Kirrin because he wanted to get away from Peterswood before the Find-Outers came back and he also wanted to save himself from the unbearable heat in Peterswood.

The journey was an uneventful one except for the fact that all along the way he kept on gloating how he had got rid of ‘ the five pests, especially that fat toad of a boy.’ And his fellow passengers got tired of him.

He soon reached Kirrin station and got down from the train. ‘ Hey you! Take these two bags and do it on the double,’ shouted Mr. Goon at a porter.

‘ Hey! If you’re gonna scream at me like that I ain’t gonna carry your luggage,’ the porter retorted.

‘ Do you know whom you are speaking to?’ demanded Mr. Goon.

‘ Yeah! A nitwit and a ninny,’ the porter answered back.
‘ If yo’re gonna make this much trouble no one is gonna help you.’

‘ As if I need your help,’ Mr. Goon exploded. ‘ I am going to carry all this without any help from you toads.’ After saying all this Mr. Goon stormed out of the station feeling triumphant though he had to carry two extremely heavy bags of his which made him puff and pant.

He was soon at the Kirrin Hotel. He went straight to the counter. ‘ A room with a view of the sea please,’ he told the manager at the counter.

‘ Sorry, we are full up,’ answered back the rather plump manager. ‘ If you want to stay you will have to sleep in the balcony, but I’d advice you against it as it is too cold at nights to sleep out.’

‘ But…but I have to stay here,’ retorted Mr. Goon. ‘ I am a representative of the Law.’

‘ I might be able to help you,’ said the manager. ‘ See that building over there? That is Kirrin Cottage. Mr. Quentin Kirrin and Mrs. Fanny Kirrin do take in boarders sometimes. You can go there if you like.’

‘ Is there no other place I can go to?’ asked Mr. Goon, a bit disappointed. ‘ No,’ was the reply from the manager.

‘ Well, okay,’ said Mr. Goon and went off at rather a slow pace towards Kirrin Cottage. It stood on a low cliff surrounding the bay, and was a very old house indeed. It wasn’t really a cottage, but quite a big house, built of old white stone. Roses climbed over the front of it, and the garden was full of flowers.

He went to the door and rang the bell. Out came Joanna, the maid, and looked at him inquiringly.

‘ Is Mr. Kirrin in?’ he asked. Both Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny had gone to France to attend a meeting of scientists. Joanna, the maid who had stayed at Kirrin Cottage for a long time, thought for a little while and answered, ‘ Both Mr. & Mrs. Kirrin have gone to France. Is there a message I can convey to them?’

‘ I am PC Theophilus Goon of Peterswood… ,’ began Mr. Goon. But he was stopped short by loud noises of a dog barking and children shouting. ‘ What is that?’ he asked.

‘ Oh that! It’s just Mr. Kirrin’s daughter and her cousins playing a game with their friends,’ explained Joanna. ‘ I would rather you speak with Mr. Kirrin’s eldest nephew than me. Julian! JULIAN!’

‘ What is it, Joanna?’ yelled Julian at the top of his voice. ‘ We are playing with our friends.’

‘ There is a guest here,’ yelled back Joanna. ‘ Wants to meet your Uncle.’

‘ Coming!’ shouted back Julian and the children came running down the stairs followed by their friends.

As Mr. Goon’s eyes fell on each of the children he got a shock and his eyes almost bulged out of his head. For coming down the stairs following the Famous Five (Julian, his brother Dick, their sister Anne, their cousin George and Timmy the dog), were none other than Frederick Algernon Troteville, Laurence Daykin, Margaret Daykin, Philip Hilton, Elizabeth Hilton and Buster – THE FIVE FIND-OUTERS AND DOG!

‘ I have come all the way from Peterswood for a quiet, peaceful vacation at Kirrin,’ began Mr. Goon. ‘ But you pests and toads had to follow me here! Gah! Why you pests, you toads, you… ’

‘ Please watch your tongue, sir!’ interrupted Joanna curtly. ‘ You shouldn’t use that kind of language in front of children.’

‘ You are telling me to watch my tongue?’ retorted Mr. Goon. ‘ Me, Police Constable Theophilus Goon! How dare you speak like that to me? I am the Law!’

‘ Enough is enough Mr. Goon,’ said Fatty in a very grown up voice. ‘ I think it’s time you left instead of creating any more problems.’

‘ You pesky toad!’ said Mr. Goon. He looked as if he was going to burst. ‘ Wait till I get my hands on you.’

‘ I am waiting!’ was Fatty’s sharp reply. ‘ Come on, you can do anything you like with me…if you can!’

Mr. Goon took a step forward but was stopped short by a warning growl from Timmy. It looked almost as if Timmy was saying, ‘ Move one step closer and I will bite your leg off.’ If it had been a small dog like Buster, Mr. Goon would have kicked it, but Timmy being a large dog he decided to retreat.

Mr. Goon blurted something that sounded suspiciously like ‘ Gah’ and stormed out of the house. The children and Joanna burst out laughing.

(Pic : Mr. Goon stormed out of the house)

2. The Famous Five & The Five Find – Outers: together!

‘ Who in the wide world was that?’ demanded Julian of Fatty. ‘ Do you know that policeman?’

‘ Oh! That was the police constable from our village, Peterswood,’ answered Fatty. ‘ His name is Mr. Goon, but he is better known as Clear-orf.’

‘ Clear-orf !’ said Joanna disbelievingly. ‘ For what reason is he called by that ridiculous name?’

‘ Well, whenever he sees any children, the only thing he says is Clear-orf,’ explained Larry with a grin. ‘ So no wonder we call him by that name. He is a muddled person and never solves a mystery properly. He also has a very low opinion of us since we beat him in solving mysteries at least fifteen times.’

‘ One thing is for sure – they didn’t make him a policeman because of his manners,’ said Joanna. ‘ Does he always behave like that?’

‘ He looked more surprised than anything else,’ put in Dick. ‘ I am sure this was the last place he would expect to find the Find-Outers.’

‘ Most probably, he came to Kirrin for a nice vacation away from the heat and especially, away from us,’ chimed in Pip with a smile. ‘ He must have got a shock to see us here. Lucky us! Bets goes to boarding school for the first time and makes friends with Anne….’

‘ And we all come to Kirrin to enjoy the summer hols and also on the lookout for an adventure with the Famous Five,’ finished Daisy for him. ‘ And, lo and behold, Mr. Goon has followed us to Kirrin as well. Isn’t life exciting?’

‘ You all had better hurry up and make your beds, otherwise you will be late for breakfast!’ came Joanna’s voice from the kitchen. ‘ And late for breakfast means – no bacon and eggs!’

No bacon and eggs! Having heard this, the nine children rushed up the stairs followed by the two excited dogs. As Uncle Quentin and Aunt Fanny were away, Julian and Dick shared their bedroom. George, Anne and, of course, Timmy were in George’s room. Whereas the Find-Outers occupied the two guestrooms – the boys and Buster the first, and the girls the second. It had been just a couple of days since the Famous Five & the Find-Outers had come to Kirrin for the summer vacation, but they were already feeling as if they had been there for at least a couple of weeks.

Everyone was down in a flash for breakfast! Joanna had just laid the table. There were bacon & eggs, some sausages and some bread and butter for breakfast. The children attacked it hungrily, while Joanna gave the dogs a bone apiece.

‘ The summer hols are indeed the nicest,’ remarked Anne. ‘ Eight long sunny weeks stretching ahead of us with no work to do except play, bathe, boat & enjoy.’

‘ One thing you have forgotten is – ADVENTURE,’ reminded Dick teasingly, knowing that his sister wouldn’t like to be called a coward in front of the Find-Outers. ‘ Or do you want to say no to adventures this time?’

‘ Obviously not!’ replied Anne hastily, and then cleverly changed the subject. ‘ Are we going to Kirrin Island today, George? I know the Find-Outers would love to explore your island.’

‘ We’ll just check if Jim’s got the boat ready,’ answered back George, her cousin, who was never called by her real name-Georgina. ‘ If so, we most certainly will go to my island.’ It was indeed her island. It used to belong to her mother, but George had persuaded her to give the island to her. Now she regarded it as her own and had already shared in many adventures on the island along with her cousins.

‘ I am very excited!’ remarked Bets as she battled with her fork. ‘ I am anxious to go to the island and see the dungeons, and also the cave you had lived in.’

‘ Don’t worry! You’ll see them all right,’ Julian assured her. He was quite grown-up now and had become very responsible. In fact, he was already sixteen. ‘ As soon as we finish our breakfast, we will go to the beach and see if the boat’s ready.’

So after breakfast, after collecting the packed lunch from Joanna, the children and dogs went to the beach. Bets was relieved to see the boat prepared and they marched off for Kirrin Island at once. A long day full of sunshine and joy lay in front of the Famous Five and the Five Find-Outers & Dog.

3. Mr. Goon at Kirrin

Meanwhile, what had happened to Mr. Goon? After leaving Kirrin Cottage, he went back to Kirrin Hotel and, having arrived there, he went to the counter to talk to the plump manager. ‘ What happened, sir?’ inquired the manager. ‘ Didn’t you find Kirrin Cottage?’

‘ Oh! I found it all right,’ said Mr. Goon. ‘ Don’t you have any better work to do than to send the Law on a wild goose-chase?’

‘ What do you mean, sir?’ asked the manager, looking puzzled and pointing. ‘ Isn’t that Kirrin Cottage over there?’

‘ Yes, of course, it is,’ said Mr. Goon sarcastically. ‘ But how dare you lie to me that they take in people for the summer? They didn’t take me in.’

‘ Well, sir…’ said the manager thoughtfully. ‘ Maybe they are full up too.’

‘ Now, where do I stay?’ said Mr. Goon to himself, then asked the manager, ‘ Which way is the house of your policeman?’

‘ It’s just over yonder,’ said the manager with a wave of his hand. ‘ All you have to do is take a right turn there and you can see a house which has police written on it at the top.’

‘ Thanks,’ said Mr. Goon and followed the directions given by the manager. He soon found the house with police written on it in big, bold letters. It was a little bungalow set in a trim little garden. At the back there was a shed. The house was painted in red and white. Mr. Goon rang the doorbell.

‘ I am PC Theophilus Goon from Peterswood,’ Mr. Goon introduced himself as the door was opened by a maid. ‘ I have come to Kirrin for a vacation and would like to meet your master.’

The maid looked suspiciously at the trunks he held in his hands, and then took him to the parlour. ‘ Would you like to have a cup of coffee, sir?’ asked the maid politely. Mr. Goon thought for a while and then said,‘ Well…okay.’

‘ Where is your master?’ inquired Mr. Goon as the maid came back with a steaming hot cup of coffee. ‘ When is he expected back?’

‘ The inspector has just gone to the police station, sir,’ explained the maid. ‘ He is expected back any moment now.’

‘ Mrs. Hill!’ called a voice. ‘ Give me a cup of tea. I am very tired.’

‘ Coming, sir!’ answered back the maid, whose name was Clara Hill. Then she said to Mr. Goon,‘ The master is back, sir.’

‘ Good, tell him that he has a visitor,’ said Mr.Goon. He sat up on the sofa in expectation. Soon he heard footsteps echoing in the hall and the Inspector of Kirrin came in – a tall man with a red, round face and ears that stick out – Pippin.

‘ Pi…Pippin!’ exclaimed Mr. Goon, his eyes falling almost out of his head. He couldn’t stop gaping. It was the last thing he expected – to find Pippin as an inspector.

‘ Goon!’ remarked Pippin in a surprised voice. ‘ What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here in Kirrin?’

‘ Pippin!’ stuttered Mr. Goon. ‘ You, an inspector! I can’t believe my eyes! First I find all those toads here and now, I see you as an inspector.’

‘ You didn’t answer me, Goon,’ said Pippin coldly. ‘ Well sir, I am here on a vacation,’ explained Mr. Goon. ‘ I went to Kirrin Hotel but there was no vacancy there. The manager directed me to a place, he said, that took people in for summer sometimes. But when I went there, not only did they not allow me to stay there, but I also found the toads…er…the Five Find-Outers there. Then I decided to ask for advice from the police inspector, so I came here. I didn’t know that you had become an inspector.’

‘ I think…’ began Inspector Pippin. ‘ You can stay with me – if you are willing.’

‘ Er…very kind of you sir,’ said Mr. Goon hesitatingly, accepting the invitation. ‘ Mrs. Hill!’ called the inspector. ‘ Take these trunks to the guestroom.’

‘ Yes, sir,’ answered Mrs. Hill. She came and took the trunks away. Goon was meanwhile pondering on the situation. Was it wise of him to consent to stay with Pippin after all the horrid things he had said and done to him when he was a constable? Should he go back to Peterswood? But wouldn’t it be a kind of a victory for that fat boy, as well as for Pippin? We’ll leave Mr. Goon thinking out these questions and cross over to where ten children are having a wonderful time.

4. A lovely day – and a rescue

Meanwhile, the Famous Five and Five Find-Outers were having a lovely ride in George’s boat which was manned skillfully by the owner. At the age of fifteen, George could man a boat as well as any fisher-boy off the coast and could swim faster than them all.

‘ Oh, Look at those rocks!’ said Fatty to George in a concerned voice. ‘ Are you sure you don’t need any help?’

‘ Of course not,’ replied George scornfully. ‘ I have come to this place at least a thousand times by boat since I was a baby. I could even ride blindfolded.’

‘ Believe her, Fatty!’ put in Julian. ‘ She can do it much better than even us boys. Why, she can even beat the fisher-boys!’

‘ Maybe,’ said Fatty disbelievingly. He thought a lot about his boating abilities. ‘ But I am sure I can beat her.’

‘ Oh, Yeah!’ said George challengingly. ‘ Why don’t we have a race after reaching the island? Are you willing to pay a forfeit?’

‘ Well, okay,’ said Fatty accepting the challenge. ‘ I’ll put up a set of false teeth, a wig, a moustache and a wig as a forfeit. But I’m sure I won’t have to hand them over to you.’

‘ We are almost there,’ said Pip, seeing that a brawl was going to erupt. ‘ How do you intend to land there? I can’t see a landing place.’

‘ I’m going to land at the little cove I told you about the other day,’ said George. ‘ There’s only one way to it, but I know it very well. It’s hidden away on the eastern side of the island.’

The girl cleverly worked her boat in and out of the rocks, and suddenly, as it rounded a low wall of sharp rocks, the children saw the cove she had spoken of. It was like a natural little harbour, and was a smooth inlet of water running up to a stretch of sand, sheltered between high rocks. The boat slid into the inlet, and at once stopped rocking, for here the water was like glass and had hardly a wrinkle.

‘ Wow! It’s wonderful!’ said all the find-outers at once. ‘ We are really on the island!’

‘ Let’s explore the island,’ said Pip, his face shining with excitement as he climbed to the top of the natural harbour. ‘ What a splendid sight! Just look at those rabbits! Come on, you others, hurry up!’

The others followed him without much delay. And what a marvellous sight it was! There were rabbits jumping around everywhere, there were seagulls and also there were the jackdaws, circling the towers with loud cries of ‘ Chack, chack, chack!’ Buster at once felt an immediate urge to chase the lolloping rabbits, but was restrained by Fatty’s warning hand on his collar. Timmy, likewise, had been held firmly by George. It was the only thing in the entire world on which George & Timmy disagreed upon. Timmy felt that rabbits were made for only one thing and that was - to chase! But George was firm on this point and never allowed Timmy to chase rabbits on her island.

‘ There’s the castle!’ said Larry. ‘ Shall we explore it?’

‘ Yes, we will,’ answered back George. ‘ Look - that is where the entrance used to be – through that big broken archway.’

The children looked at the broken-down entrance. It had rickety stone steps behind it leading to the center of the castle. The children were soon running over those steps while George described the castle to the wonder-struck Find Outers.

‘ My castle once had strong walls around it with two towers,’ explained George. ‘ One is almost broken-down, as you can see. But the other is still in good shape. The jackdaws build their nests in that every year.’

‘ This is the center of the castle,’ she said, as they came to the end of the steps, and entered through a ruined doorway into what looked like a huge yard, but was now covered with weeds and mosses. ‘ This is where the people used to live. The walls and roofs of the rooms have caved in, all but one. This is the room where we slept in when we came to the island in search of gold on our first adventure. The roof has caved in towards that corner now, so it isn’t as comfortable to stay as it used to be at that point of time.’

They all peered into the room she was talking about. The children could well imagine how people would be huddling together in the room during the days the castle was inhabited.

‘ If you move to that cliff over there,’ put in Dick, unable to keep quiet any longer, and pointing to his right. ‘ You can see the wreck in which Sir John Henry Kirrin had brought the gold, but couldn’t make it to the mainland.’

Everyone at once started running to the cliff which Dick had pointed out. Bets, who wanted to be the first to see the wreck, ran ahead of the others at top speed. Suddenly, as she put her little foot down while running, she slipped and started sliding dangerously to the edge of the cliff.

‘ Bets…!’ shouted her brother, Pip with concern. ‘ Watch out…you are going to fall over the edge!’

‘ Help! Help!’ cried Bets as she desperately tried to stop herself from falling. Just as she was about to topple over, two sets of very strong teeth caught her frock just in time to save her - Timmy. He had seen Bets slipping, and also heard her frantic cries for help as she slid along the ground. He had understood the situation and had rushed forward, and had just caught her before she could topple over the cliff into the waiting and terrifying rocks below.

Bets started crying and hugged the big dog for saving her life. The others rushed up to her and Timmy.

‘ Are you all right?’ inquired Fatty. ‘ Lucky for you Timmy was around to save you.’

‘ As usual, you have fallen into danger because of your clumsiness,’ said Pip in his brotherly voice. ‘ When will you learn to walk properly?’

‘ It’s not her clumsiness that made her slip, Pip,’ said Julian picking up something and showing it to the others. ‘ It was this!’

‘ A banana peel!’ shrieked George, enraged. ‘ That means that there were trespassers on my island! How dare they when they can jolly well see the sign in the cove saying Trespassers will be prosecuted!’

‘ Take it easy, old thing,’ said Julian putting an arm over her shoulder. ‘ It must have been a person who had been journeying in a boat and had got tired. Then he must have just stopped here for a rest.’

‘ Well…the over-exhausted traveller sure left a lot of banana peels here,’ put in Dick pointing out some more bananas on the ground. ‘ They almost make a trail. Let’s follow them.’

So the children followed the trail made by the banana peels thrown on the ground. The trail led up to the bottom of the cliff where a row of sharp and huge rocks paved a way to the wreck.

5. A very curious discovery – and a new adventure

‘ That’s odd,’ said Julian as they stood looking at the rocks where the trail of the banana peels ended. ‘ I can see some peels on the rocks as well…and…I think I see something on the wreck too. Just give me the binoculars, Dick.’

‘ Thanks,’ said Julian as Dick handed him the binoculars. ‘ Now…let’s see. I think I see something on the deck of the wreck. It’s a coil of rope! What can it be doing there?’

‘ Did you put it there, George?’ asked Pip looking at her as she shook her head. ‘ If you didn’t put it there, who did?’

‘ That’s what we need to find out,’ said Julian with a hint of enthusiasm in his voice. ‘ Looks like we found ourselves another adventure!’

‘ Likewise, we have found another mystery to solve,’ announced Fatty. ‘ And I am sure that we’ll be able to get to the bottom of this before you.’

‘ That’s what you think!’ said Dick flaring up. ‘ We are much more experienced in these things than you.’

‘ It’s okay, Dick,’ said Julian in his grown-up manner. ‘ We’ll all solve this mystery together.’

Sachin Tendulkar - my favourite sportsperson

2007-12-06T12:03:00.000+05:30

I really had to put in something about Sachin in my blog. I would generally talk at length about him but I am a little busy with exams coming up. Let's allow his cricket stats to do the talking for him as usual. I'm posting them here for a reference now, we'll compare them with his current stats maybe a few months down the line.

	M	I	NO	Runs	HS	Av	BF	SR	100	50	4s	6s	Ct
Tests	142	229	24	11289	248*	55.06			37	47		42	93
ODIs	407	397	37	15962	186*	44.33	18669	85.50	41	87	1747	166	120

And even his bowling stats :)

											M		I				Balls	Runs	Wkts	BBI	BBM	Ave	Econ	SR	4w	5w

Tests	142	119	3802	2182				42	3/10	3/14	51.95	3.44	90.5		0				0
ODIs	407	263	7985	6774				154	5/32	5/32	43.98	5.09	51.8		4				2

I just hope that his dry spell with centuries comes to a close, soon.