- Oh my God! Impressive building., beautiful lawns…wow a fountain, the Air Conditioning is OK. Is it too cold? Who cares-it’s airconditioned! BUT – It is TOO COLD, cold enough for you to catch a cold.
- It is 2 kilometers from the main road, where the bus drops you and there are no autos or rickshaws and there is no way except walking and that too with the sun in a plot with someone trying to burn you down. Sometimes you do manage to get a lift, but 5 times in 50 days….does it make sense mathematically?
- The canteen is a good 5 mins walk from the office building, again with the sun in evil plotting and everything.
- It is the second last day of the internship (10 full weeks, nothing less!).Your mentor has talked to you for a total of 2 hours.
- 7th week – You are told that you should start making your report so that you can WORK till the LAST DAY(which work? – NO answer)
- You are being asked to give a presentation on work done (which work? – NO answer)
- Presentation to whom – Whoever feels like coming – Well, you console yourself, perhaps the legs would bring people to the room where you are to give a ppt (which room is it btw? and at ???? hours:O) automatically. Perhaps they will dream about it in the night. Why not? Anyway they haven’t been told about it by natural means, perhaps supernatural will intervene!!!! Awesome idea….and you feel happy!)
- You are told you are here as a favour to IIT, nobody wants you here or even cares.
- You wait for a discussion (you were told would happen in half an hour) for almost 6 hours and then at 5:30 are told, we’ll discuss tomorrow…and guess what?...chances are that it’ll happen again tomorrow!
- You submit a report (wow, how did you manage to even write one… you are a marvel!!! :P) and are told the next day and I quote, “It seems You are writing a report for the first time.”
- The mistakes pointed out in your report are as follows :
· The cover page isn’t copied from the report you were given.
· The acknowledgement doesn’t have the names of the people you don’t know exist.
· The table of contents is upside down.
· The actual content of the report – “Sorry, I couldn’t read that. You know how busy I am.” - Oh, and what about the results of the samples you sent (you did send some sample **smug look**) to that analysis lab...umm when was it...ah, yes two weeks ago? Oh, people are too busy you know, you'll get a WTF-is-wrong-with-you-you-ass****-don't you-know-everyone-here-is-so-busy-get-the-f***-out-of-here stare, so why even bother asking!
- Finally, after 50 days, You take in the form to get it signed (The form being the only reason you came here for….) and what happens???? We’ll find out TOMORROW………………………………………………………………….
Thursday, July 16, 2009
WHY NOT TO DO AN INTERN ..
Saturday, June 6, 2009
The Duel
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
I am free, let me fly away
to the beautiful moments that have been.
I am free, let me float away
away to the places never yet seen.
But you must work!
If not, you'll be a waste.
They will find out
so get up, make haste.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
This is not the work for me
need something else.
I have to find out what to do
give me peace, let me rest.
You are lost and have wandered away.
Do not be foolish, do not sway.
This work is what you do the best.
Do it right now and then you can rest.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
There are beautiful places to go
beautiful places to be.
Why make me sit here
when I can be free?
You don't understand you silly girl,
beautiful places will always be.
You can visit them whenever you like,
but here, in this moment, you'll never again be.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
You are my enemy
You want to tie me down.
I am just showing you
the right way around.
The battle goes on,
no one will ever win.
I have to bring in
something else from within.
Stop you two!
Quiet, not a word.
Some time to work
for the rest be a bird!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
I am free, let me fly away
to the beautiful moments that have been.
I am free, let me float away
away to the places never yet seen.
But you must work!
If not, you'll be a waste.
They will find out
so get up, make haste.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
This is not the work for me
need something else.
I have to find out what to do
give me peace, let me rest.
You are lost and have wandered away.
Do not be foolish, do not sway.
This work is what you do the best.
Do it right now and then you can rest.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
There are beautiful places to go
beautiful places to be.
Why make me sit here
when I can be free?
You don't understand you silly girl,
beautiful places will always be.
You can visit them whenever you like,
but here, in this moment, you'll never again be.
Work work work!
He shrieks at me.
No no no!
Someone revolts.
You are my enemy
You want to tie me down.
I am just showing you
the right way around.
The battle goes on,
no one will ever win.
I have to bring in
something else from within.
Stop you two!
Quiet, not a word.
Some time to work
for the rest be a bird!
The Girl
There was a girl sitting quietly on the front seat of the bus towards the side of the door. She was seemingly oblivious to what was happening around her but things were playing in her mind; things of the past, pleasant conversations - real as well as imaginary - with people she loved and cared about. Sometimes she got so engrossed in her own imaginary world - her creation - that she would start talking audibly and make gestures visibly in this world to something said or done in hers, but then when she realised what she was doing she'd reproach herself playfully, silently pleased with herself that she could live a beautiful moment whenever she wanted just by going into this separate world she had inside her. But things had started changing for her recently.
It wasn't that she was unhappy in the real world around her, but the fact was that she had only recently understood that happiness is a voluntary state of mind. So she had started to be more and more conscious and aware of the actual happenings around her. So then, at that moment, she suddenly returned to this world, forcing herself to part from some beautiful moments in the hope of testing this finding, hoping to find something precious in here and now to remember later. The change was quite remarkable. Her eyes, that earlier had been staring down towards her hands resting on her legs, shot up and became conscious of activity happening around - people looking at her, people not looking at her and going about their business with what seemed to her so much earnestness and sincerity that she flushed with shame for an instant criticising herself for her insincerity at work and making a promise to be productive and fruitful from now on and not waste time at all. Also, the smile that earlier occupied her face was taken over by an expression of eagerness and curiosity, such as might be seen in explorers.
The bus stopped (at a bus stop!) and there came in all sorts of people - passengers and vendors selling 'chatpate chaney', 'paani', 'naariyal' - the usual lot that come in at every stop infact if the bus stops for more than a minute. Her eyes - that had earlier been inspecting the road divider, taking in the never-yet-noticed-details, marvelling how she could not have seen them earlier having passed this way so often - now came to rest on a little boy of about 10 selling 'chaney' and continued to rest there. She was staring hard at him trying to see through to his mind perhaps. "What was he thinking? What does he usually think about? Could she know how he feels?", such were the thoughts as passed her mind. He aroused a feeling in her, what it was she couldn't say. It wasn't pity though, of that she was sure. She continued to stare, unable to take her eyes off him, with no particular motive except that she wanted to know something. When after a while the boy realised that no one in that particular bus wanted to eat 'chaney' that day, he got off and went towards a man sitting on the fence by the side of the road. Perhaps he knew the man because when the man asked him for some 'chaney', he picked up a few from his bucket and, it seemed to her, willingly offered. But the greedy man - seeing the quantity- refused and indicated that he wanted more and with onions and he wasn't going to pay! Brave boy! He refused. The girl was delighted, almost proud at how wise 'her little boy' was. He wasn't heartless and yet at such tender age he already knew the limits of being generous. He would do fine in life. But it doen't end here of course. Stories never end so simply, do they?
Another man came and gave the greedy-charity-wanting man a bottle of water. The boy was thirsty. He looked at the bottle longingly and spread out his hand to grab it, but oh the bastard! puts the bottle behind his back out of the reach of the boy's tiny hands. The boy stops instantly, though still staring. He badly wants water. The heat is terrible, the sun just about ready to burn down everything. And the girl was burning too, burning in anger. "Why can't the blasted man give water to the tiny little thing", she thought to herself. But she was a silent observer of events; feeling them, even living them but from a distance without ever interfering. So she just continued watching. The man started drinking himself and when he had finished, the boy summoning up some courage, spread out his hand very slowly, very carefully towards the bottle hoping that the water might have softened up the man a little. But oh no! Oh no! What was that? The same gesture. Whoosh goes the water bottle behind the back, out of reach again. The girl was in pain now. "Why O why is this happening?" Then, almost as quickly, the answer came to her.
The man looked at the bottle and then at the bucket half full of 'chaney'. The boy obviously understood. Had he been in such a situation before? He had no choice. He bent down, picked up a handful from his bucket, sprinkled some sliced onions on top and handed them over. He got the bottle in return. The girl was amazed. She was also confused. What to make out of what she had just seen? Now she saw them both sitting on the same fence, side-by-side, the man with his arm around the boy's neck, both of them looking at nothing in particular.
Suddenly her face became pale and she looked shocked. What had she just seen? It was a war to her, a battle for survival, a duel fought for life. But those two, the two warriors themselves, seemed blissfully unaware of it. To them, it was a routine thing. Give and take. As simple as that. She would have been better off in her own world. Why did she ever come back? So there and then she lowered her eyes and a smile spread across her face. She had gone back.
It wasn't that she was unhappy in the real world around her, but the fact was that she had only recently understood that happiness is a voluntary state of mind. So she had started to be more and more conscious and aware of the actual happenings around her. So then, at that moment, she suddenly returned to this world, forcing herself to part from some beautiful moments in the hope of testing this finding, hoping to find something precious in here and now to remember later. The change was quite remarkable. Her eyes, that earlier had been staring down towards her hands resting on her legs, shot up and became conscious of activity happening around - people looking at her, people not looking at her and going about their business with what seemed to her so much earnestness and sincerity that she flushed with shame for an instant criticising herself for her insincerity at work and making a promise to be productive and fruitful from now on and not waste time at all. Also, the smile that earlier occupied her face was taken over by an expression of eagerness and curiosity, such as might be seen in explorers.
The bus stopped (at a bus stop!) and there came in all sorts of people - passengers and vendors selling 'chatpate chaney', 'paani', 'naariyal' - the usual lot that come in at every stop infact if the bus stops for more than a minute. Her eyes - that had earlier been inspecting the road divider, taking in the never-yet-noticed-details, marvelling how she could not have seen them earlier having passed this way so often - now came to rest on a little boy of about 10 selling 'chaney' and continued to rest there. She was staring hard at him trying to see through to his mind perhaps. "What was he thinking? What does he usually think about? Could she know how he feels?", such were the thoughts as passed her mind. He aroused a feeling in her, what it was she couldn't say. It wasn't pity though, of that she was sure. She continued to stare, unable to take her eyes off him, with no particular motive except that she wanted to know something. When after a while the boy realised that no one in that particular bus wanted to eat 'chaney' that day, he got off and went towards a man sitting on the fence by the side of the road. Perhaps he knew the man because when the man asked him for some 'chaney', he picked up a few from his bucket and, it seemed to her, willingly offered. But the greedy man - seeing the quantity- refused and indicated that he wanted more and with onions and he wasn't going to pay! Brave boy! He refused. The girl was delighted, almost proud at how wise 'her little boy' was. He wasn't heartless and yet at such tender age he already knew the limits of being generous. He would do fine in life. But it doen't end here of course. Stories never end so simply, do they?
Another man came and gave the greedy-charity-wanting man a bottle of water. The boy was thirsty. He looked at the bottle longingly and spread out his hand to grab it, but oh the bastard! puts the bottle behind his back out of the reach of the boy's tiny hands. The boy stops instantly, though still staring. He badly wants water. The heat is terrible, the sun just about ready to burn down everything. And the girl was burning too, burning in anger. "Why can't the blasted man give water to the tiny little thing", she thought to herself. But she was a silent observer of events; feeling them, even living them but from a distance without ever interfering. So she just continued watching. The man started drinking himself and when he had finished, the boy summoning up some courage, spread out his hand very slowly, very carefully towards the bottle hoping that the water might have softened up the man a little. But oh no! Oh no! What was that? The same gesture. Whoosh goes the water bottle behind the back, out of reach again. The girl was in pain now. "Why O why is this happening?" Then, almost as quickly, the answer came to her.
The man looked at the bottle and then at the bucket half full of 'chaney'. The boy obviously understood. Had he been in such a situation before? He had no choice. He bent down, picked up a handful from his bucket, sprinkled some sliced onions on top and handed them over. He got the bottle in return. The girl was amazed. She was also confused. What to make out of what she had just seen? Now she saw them both sitting on the same fence, side-by-side, the man with his arm around the boy's neck, both of them looking at nothing in particular.
Suddenly her face became pale and she looked shocked. What had she just seen? It was a war to her, a battle for survival, a duel fought for life. But those two, the two warriors themselves, seemed blissfully unaware of it. To them, it was a routine thing. Give and take. As simple as that. She would have been better off in her own world. Why did she ever come back? So there and then she lowered her eyes and a smile spread across her face. She had gone back.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Don't ask me what is meant by them, they just came naturally. In my opinion, it would be ridiculous to attach a meaning to them or try to draw some inference as earlier I myself was trying. However, you are free to decide for yourself. When the picture on top was created, I labelled it "dilemma and struggle". If you ask me why, I frankly have no idea. What I have drawn in there is not totally absurd, but it is random; I do not know why is it that I have drawn what I have together and in the manner depicted.
The darker one was called "fall and hope" at the time of its creation! No reason as to why such a random name. I thought at the time that I was being overly smart and modern by giving these pictures such fancy names but now that I think of it, I really don't see any reason apart from that. Perhaps some day I would better understand my motivations as I drew these pictures and be able to appreciate them. Till then will be happy to bask in the glory of innocence!
All the mess just gets messier!
Confusion blinds my eyes as I sit with a blank screen in front of me, the unmerciful cursor constantly blinking as if to remind of the overwhelming whiteness spread before my eyes; waiting, waiting for a speck of black to pollute its oh-so-pure nature. But is it anything compared to the blankness in my head. Is my head blank? Had it ever been blank? The moment I was born, even before perhaps, attempts started to blacken it. Something so white, so pristine, just doesn't appeal to the world. So they devote themselves whole-heartedly to convert this blank impressionable space into a mess of black specks overflowing with lines and words; some try to throw in shades of colour as well, so it doesn't look so dreary after all. The end result is "I", very convincing; a confused mass of words, ideas, pictures, thoughts that may be ingenious but mostly aren't since I myself was not the typist. I never even got the chance to spoil my blank space myself, make my own mess, drown in my own shit, others did the job for me before I even got to my senses. What a beautiful world! Most of the times I am also happy with the mess that is my head, convinced that there is something substantial, something meaningful in there somewhere. What a beautiful idea! An organised structural scam! I am happy or miserable as the case may be because I think I am the author of this mess thats inside my head. How it would shatter me to acknowledge - I have nothing to do with it!
It raises another question. If I have nothing to do with it, then am I not at all responsible for what I do or who I am? Sounds too good to be true! I can do whatever I want, I am not even responsible for it! What to do now? Need to think of an answer and hence the blank screen. Out of all that's inside, the confusing array of words, pictures, thoughts and ideas, all of which I can't even claim to be my own, is there something, some little grid somewhere, some space, some idea, some thought, some word that's my own? Can I claim a right over something, anything however small? The fact that I am raising this question is a glimmer of hope. All is not lost. There is still some bank space left where I am free to make my own mess and by God! I am not going to let that opportunity slip by!
It raises another question. If I have nothing to do with it, then am I not at all responsible for what I do or who I am? Sounds too good to be true! I can do whatever I want, I am not even responsible for it! What to do now? Need to think of an answer and hence the blank screen. Out of all that's inside, the confusing array of words, pictures, thoughts and ideas, all of which I can't even claim to be my own, is there something, some little grid somewhere, some space, some idea, some thought, some word that's my own? Can I claim a right over something, anything however small? The fact that I am raising this question is a glimmer of hope. All is not lost. There is still some bank space left where I am free to make my own mess and by God! I am not going to let that opportunity slip by!
Friday, March 6, 2009
Had forgotten I even had a blog! But then, now that I have remembered, why not post something. Things have changed a lot since the first post. That was the end of first year of College life, now is approaching the end of third year and what a journey it has been. But it's not of the journey I wish to speak right now. It's not even of some random thoughts that came during the journey, I can't say when or where or how (but then even if I could, would it have made a difference?).
I have to admit that I have been really lax in recording those thoughts, but the question is that even if I had recorded them, what purpose would it have served. Very well, it would have given a reference to compare future thoughts with, but how would that affect life as we know it? Life as we know it.......do we know it? What is "knowing"? It is defined as "be aware of through enquiry, observation or information". I would add to this..." and to be able to predict 'anything' regarding the object of our focus". The object may be an object or a human. What interests me are humans. we often say, "I know him/her" so mechanically, without even realizing we are saying it. Same goes for many other words in our language. For example, believe. It can be used in two totally opposite contexts- "to be absolutely sure of something", I believe whatever she/he said, and "to suppose or think something is right", I believe we have met? But what about this, I believe I'll act in this particular way when this happens or I believe he'll vote for you. Which of the two meanings would you assign to it? What was the point? The point was to question if language means anything. And now that it has been questioned, now what? The eternal question. Now what? Achieve one thing you wanted to achieve, then what next? Aren't we always asking ourselves that!
I wonder where this post is going, perhaps nowhere, perhaps somewhere. You can draw your own conclusions.
I have to admit that I have been really lax in recording those thoughts, but the question is that even if I had recorded them, what purpose would it have served. Very well, it would have given a reference to compare future thoughts with, but how would that affect life as we know it? Life as we know it.......do we know it? What is "knowing"? It is defined as "be aware of through enquiry, observation or information". I would add to this..." and to be able to predict 'anything' regarding the object of our focus". The object may be an object or a human. What interests me are humans. we often say, "I know him/her" so mechanically, without even realizing we are saying it. Same goes for many other words in our language. For example, believe. It can be used in two totally opposite contexts- "to be absolutely sure of something", I believe whatever she/he said, and "to suppose or think something is right", I believe we have met? But what about this, I believe I'll act in this particular way when this happens or I believe he'll vote for you. Which of the two meanings would you assign to it? What was the point? The point was to question if language means anything. And now that it has been questioned, now what? The eternal question. Now what? Achieve one thing you wanted to achieve, then what next? Aren't we always asking ourselves that!
I wonder where this post is going, perhaps nowhere, perhaps somewhere. You can draw your own conclusions.
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
boring vacations
its vacation time. my god!!!! two and a half month long vacations...its just too long......brain has been idle too long, waiting for that workload, that busy atmosphere almost desperately.
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