Hovering Down the Winding Road....Waiting to Touch Ground !

It's that time of the year when utterly important (life-altering) decisions are to be made. All former sophomores are running around asking for precious advice from seniors and exploring future career prospects. And here I am, in this pandemonium of sorts - (wondering if I choose to savour the powers of the Indian bureaucracy, or scribble away documents in my air-conditioned chambers, or work my way up amongst moguls craving for the largest pie in the market) - waiting for the moment when The Almighty whispers into my head and voila ! I suddenly know what I'm destined for.

I know nothing of that kind is ever going to happen and I need to make the call sooner than later. But then there's so much more to be done! For instance, there's footie (I'm sure I'll become a pro within a few months time...one more thing to add to my resume), badminton, the gazette, bakar and chapos, more of my special multifarious theories, projects and then the secondary CGPA issue. Add to that humour and entertainment that are crucial for human survival within today's gloomy environs that engulf a B.Tech 3rd year undergraduate. If there was a way that could take care of our career obligations and at the same time not give up on the aforementioned "essentials" of life, there wouldn't be a happier person in the whole universe (provided that the Martians do not have to fulfill such material responsibilities already).

Professionals in test-taking-strategies (read CL and TIME) are sweating it out to lure potential "managers" with assurances to each who enrolls, of a berth in one of the prestigious IIM's (I still can't empathise why these "brilliant minds" never ended up where we're supposedly being sent to). To begin with, they quote formidable statistics that might make the listener dizzy with ambition, which crashes to below sea level when the final number is revealed - "You see; we expected atleast 40 to make it out of a batch of 45, but unfortunately, owing to discrepancies in the sub-standard question paper, only 14 could - between two batches, of whom 10 were our classroom students and the others bestowed upon us the privilege of mentioning their names wherever we'd like to". For the past few days, I've been receiving calls from one such CAT-specialist telling me all about the lecture schedule; the poor guy would be elated to know I'm publicising his institution in this very post without actually intending to become a part of it.

The "dreamers" are doing everything to ascertain nothing gets in the way of them reaching their final destination. While some aren't so conspicuous about their clandestine trips outside the campus gate every evening, others are bubbling with enthusiasm over having started early enough to commence the race from pole position. Its an altogether different world - obviously dissimilar from a few months back - scrawling notes all day long, no dawdling, no respite from voices reciting principles and theorems, devoid of sleep and lacking peace.

I've not started dreaming yet. It's only dusk; night is hours away. Let chasers pursue the snitch even before Quidditch begins; a good seeker will win it eventually in due time. Meanwhile I'll just enjoy reading as the mystery unfolds for "A Prisoner of Birth" and watch my favorite sitcoms before I retire to bed. Dawn will bring me inspiration and divine guidance to embark on my endeavours. I cannot let the strands of complacency bind me, but then, they never can.

"FOOTBALL NIGHT"

As I enjoy the suddenly quiet and peaceful environment - seldom the air of the hostel (unless it's the end sems), I still feel amused at the reason behind this descent of calm. Though I feel like my eyes are becoming heavier every passing moment at this hour of night, I just can't keep myself from the exuberance that overcomes me and compells me to continue tapping the keyboard until I reach the end of this post before retiring to bed.

The score stands 9-7, two goals short (once again my team loses but the sport wins......blah blah blah !). A good start, but failing towards the end on account of missed chances, tiresomeness and wayward kicks in the air (I finally realised what Brownian motion actually looked like). But altogether, a fun game with friends added to the lengthening list of "Bizzare doings at IITR".
The 'crazy' part being this game was played in the hostel lawns for about an hour and a half starting just after midnight (12:30 am to be precise).

Nobody really took in my words when we started calling out people to take part in this historic game of football. (This idea, by the way, was conceived while enjoying our seldom delicious dinner at the mess.) Some were busy marauding the maps of "Counter strike" on their entertainment boxes, others were chatting incessantly about issues ranging from the Canteen food to the latest regulations regarding discipline inside the campus. A few of the latter were bewildered at the proposition and chose to remain confined to the 'bakar room', while other soccer enthusiasts happily agreed as if they were waiting for somebody to pull them out of the raging debate on senior-junior relations.

Finally, it began. Nobody regretted having come to the party and, I suppose, never will. There were bloopers, skill and confusion of all kinds. I must say this had the ingredients of an international match (minus the skill). Goals were struck by those least expected to move a bone and the 'Beckhams' of Cautley Bhawan didn't live up to their promise. Somebody shouted "That's it ! No more !" and it's over. After we've had a good time, we all depart for the comfort in our rooms that we haven't ever really appreciated.

I can hear the table clock ticking as it shows 3:30 am. This eerie silence following the match is inducing drowsiness I can no longer resist. Every living soul has gone to bed and I must follow suit. Not often does one get sound sleep at IITR and this is one such opportunity I must take advantage to the fullest. There's more to be done tomorrow, cause now is only half-time.

PS : I wonder how we maintain this newly cultivated habit once classes start in full flow...........

Musings of a Half-Engineer....

Another year has gone by. Summer vacations have come to a long awaited end; this time it was more purpose than leisure (securing an internship in these times of recession has been a daunting task indeed).....and yet again I am baffled by how fast we've moved on. It seems only a few months back that we stepped into RJB as "facchas", with the sole aspiration of making it to the top rung amongst the pool of "like-headed" souls. It was much different back then - the innocence (people would rather call it dumbness), sincerity and a steadfast resolve to perform to the best of our ability; now all has been reduced to mere blankness and uncertainty.

I still recall a vivid picture of the day I stepped into the insti - waiting expectantly to meet my roommate, thinking of how I'd deal with a clumsy, spoilt brat if need be (fortunately Abhas was way mature). It was amazing to ponder upon how the 4-year long stay at IITR would fare. With the varying "degrees of freedom" we have been subjected to in our endeavour to pursue the ultimate goal - graduating as engineers (how many actually care to?), one can't still be so sure as to what comes next. The scales keep tilting and might scare the mickey out of you just when all seems perfect, but things also happen the other way round - when all hope is lost, one might be awed at getting something way better than expected in the first place.

There has become a phenomenal change in the mannerisms of each individual compared to the day one first entered the realms of IITR Main Building. I remember the first morning when everybody was up early enough to reach the lecture hall 10 minutes before the professor set foot into the classroom. Now, bunking and proxying are the first thoughts of the day. There are "zombies" who, deprived of slumber due to nocturnal ventures, attend lectures only because they find the teacher's voice quite hypnotic or because the furniture feels cozier than the wooden structures in their gloomy rooms (which are often camouflaged by an assortment of what-nots and so difficult to be visible to the human eye beneath all the rubble).

Gathering the two-year experience so far, it seems there is one thing that keeps us motivated in our quest for the precious piece of parchment only the tenacious are destined to achieve. Recreation through increasingly ingenious propositions and hilarious pranks takes our mind off from insignificant worldly pursuits and instills a new energy to start all over again. And the fact that we won't get such fun opportunities after passing out compells us to enjoy as much as we can. That is the jargon. To put the same in simpler words, "it's only play and little work that makes Jack an 8-pointer", and not many would dare to sacrifice their identity for entering into the distinct class of bespectacled, dreamy, dreaded 9-pointers.

Now that we enter into the third year, I can only assume times are going to be even more taxing and much less fun than the blast we had all during first year - chapos(free treats) at the canteen almost everyday, pranks which had the victim's heart in his mouth, funny professors and the exceedingly hilarious Meta skit. But we thrive on hope, that still better and merrier times await us in the near (and distant) future. Whatever we do, wherever we drift away after the convocation ceremony (after passing out, obviously), I am pretty certain we'll cherish forever awesome memories of these four precious years at IITR for our entire lifetime.

Whitewater rafting at Rishikesh....Riding the turbulent rapids of the Ganges.

It was Wednesday eve; breezy, soothing atmosphere and a slight drizzle - the perfect weather one gets to hangout and relax. We had just had our second midsems over a few hours back, after a taxing time, and were going through a "group discussion" concerning "how to spend the coming weekend". One bloke suggested going places, another suggested having a "Meta Premier League" again (remember the last time? wrapped up after a few matches !). And after an hour of "bakar" including wayward propositions but none of them worthy enough to result in a common consensus, I finally departed to peace in my room to enjoy the one thing I had been the most deprived of during the past few days - sleep.

The next day, when I was still wondering how I'd spend the weekend while almost everybody else departed either home or to some other fun place, Mahajan conceived this great idea to go for river rafting on the Ganges at Rishikesh. And so it was decided. All necessary arrangements made, the weather forecast taken into notice. We were going on an adventure trip the next morning - the best I've had until now.

The nine of us set off for Rishikesh at the stipulated time. The scene at the spot(Shivpuri) was a serene, enthralling one. After the usual "nautanki" and "hulladbaaji", we finally paid heed to the words of the instructor who would be guiding us through the entire journey (he tried to, but failed miserably !). Only two amongst us knew swimming, but the rest couldn't rely on them to save our lives if we fell into the river (or so we thought), hence we listened carefully when he elaborated necessary precautions to be taken. (Besides, we had all the protective gear, so we never really cared). After the briefing, we set sail to face the mysteries of the sacred river beckoning us to explore its waters. "Gujju" was appointed the group commander, being the only one to accomplish this feat before (nobody ever listened to him though). The guide Mr.Deepak and his associate Mr.Dev had to strive hard to steer the raft in the right direction - clear of the rocks and boulders that could put a lame end to the expedition, while we were carrying out "logical" experiments with the rows only to take it wayward.

The journey began on quiet waters, and as we progressed further, we came across seven "rapids" - sections of a river where the river bed has a relatively steep gradient causing an increase in water velocity and turbulence. The first one gave us the jitters, and we were unaware of the fact that there were still more taunting "4th degree" ones capable of giving us the shudders and the heebie-jeebies. I was the most bewildered by the names given to these natural formations in the Ganga river - "Golf course"and "Roller coaster" which were the most stupendous, plus "double trouble", "Marine drive", "T-off" and "Daniel's dip". For a moment, I wondered whether this was my homeland and if it was, whether India had yet to gain independence from the British marauders.

All the way, we kept receiving commands like "Forward !", "Right back left forward !", "High side !"and "Stop !" but it took a while to realize what they meant (anyways, why should we follow orders by anybody else when we can screw things up ourselves). Each time a rapid overlooked our path, two people squatted on the edge in the front, drinking up half the water gushing into their faces while the others rowed with all their might to pull out of the turbulence. At times it seemed the waves wanted a hitch on the raft too, intentionally forming crevices when we least expected them.

On reaching still water finally, we made the most of it by diving out of the raft to swim until we all were frozen by the chill while the "guides" took the least pity on our helplessness (why didn't they tell us we couldn't get back on our own), and jumping from a cliff into the water about 80 feet deep (any takers for doing so without a lifejacket?) before resuming the voyage. After the 3 hours, 14 kilometres stretch was over and we had just enough vitality to walk to "Chotiwala" for lunch - fully drenched in water, some rest was all we needed. And what better option than to lie in the sunshine in the sands along the riverside. A walk back to the agent's office was the last stage of this wonderful excursion that was my first outing for "adventure sports".

I hope many more such trips await me in the near future, because I kinda liked the thrills that are associated.

Global Financial Recession impacting the Midsems?!!

It's finally over.....but the hangover still persists in the form of indolance to do anything (which is considered) fruitful.....

The Midsems have concluded after a tough ordeal which kept most of us toiling day-and-night (read "all night") to reconcile with the fact that only people who possess a "good-enough" CGPA (does anybody have the faintest idea what that actually means? I get variable opinions each soul I seek an enlightening answer from) can make it to a decent organization at the end of the 8th semester while the rest will have to be allayed with a job at "Career Point" or "Resonance" or "COER" doing the same thing as a few years back (or was it centuries ago?...because that is out of fashion now, rather a lame pastime) - gorging volumes of concepts and mugging up more than an ordinary human being is capacitated to, what lead us here in the first place - the difference being this they would not be doing for themselves because they won't be entitled to take the prestigious JEE another time.

Four years well spent devising funny stories about each and every professor in the campus, assigning them "suitable" nicknames, bringing out our best abilities in anime - and voila! You step into the latter's shoes when you know that the back benchers are never really interested in the weird theories and pestering mathematics you blabber about; they're busy carefully observing your slightest nuances which can be mimicked on "Bhawan Day" in front of an audience from the entire insti with yourself gracing the occasion as "chief guest". What an honour!

This situation was an alien one until the previous year, and stems from the recent financial recession that has affected not only "raddiwalas", "Thomso - 09", businessmen, corporates and governments alike, but also final year students in search of propective employers. This wariness has been bestowed upon us second yearites by our seniors who have witnessed the consequences of the global slowdown in the form of companies not willing to recruit. As I come to know about the interviews for the selection process, a not-so-major firm was made fun of when students haughtily stated to the interviewer - "We never wanted to be part of your workforce but have come for the sole purpose of gaining some experience for tackling interview questions". Now the same firm has been requested "humbly" to return to the premises.

What if the situation continues for a few more years? Heeding the fact that companies today are more interested in your CGPA rather than your instumental role in organizing "Thomso" as coordinator or even convenor, as secy of various student societies or as a 4-time inter-IIT player - our peers have taken up study more seriously than ever before.

The number of doubts fielded by professors who earlier used to have the front benchers sleeping in their class, has increased exponentially. The library and reading room get occupied to their full capacity a week before the midsems. Everybody seems to be giving some importance to the midsems, subsequently increasing the woes of "Ghissus" who earlier had no challenges from any other quarters. And to further add to this pandemonium, the department has tightened the noose around our necks by means of attendance backs and substituting a "dassi" for an "atthi".

It would be in our best interests if this turmoil in financial systems around the world is brought to a halt immediately. The longer it persists, the longer it will take for us to return to our "normal" way of living at IITR.

PS : Mr. Obama, are you listening?