The Medallion

My parents tell me it took a great deal of persuasion from them to make me enter the school gate on my first day in kindergarten. It was with the promise of my favourite chocolates that they could finally bribe me into spending eight hours away from home in the company of complete strangers. With a tiny bag and a water bottle, I set off on the path to enlightenment, completely unaware of what would lie ahead.

The process of 'education' commenced with learning the alphabet in carefree idleness, without having to bother about tutorials and pesky homework assignments. I had no competitors, for every rival was an innocent friend helping me build a sandcastle or planning fanciful treasure hunts in and around the school premises.

Gradually, smiling primary teachers were replaced by shrewish middle school instructors and then nutty professors whose facial expressions were, at any time, representative of the characteristic function 'f(x) = constant'. The contents of my schoolbag became heavier with each passing year. Academics now was a rat race in which mediocrity was not any better than failure. There were rewards to keep me motivated in this arduous enterprise. Every time I stood first in class or did exceptionally well in the annual exams, I received dainties from the school canteen, and sometimes, a bicycle or a holiday vacation present from mom and dad. 'Dolce far niente' was no longer permissible; it was displaced by drudgery and tedium, often resulting from my innumerable attempts to unscramble the Schrodinger equation.

Aspirations and expectations changed with time. Come Roorkee, I no longer cared for the occasional reward or censure. There was the higher motive of launching a successful career and smoothly transitioning to a life in which profession was the attribute that determined a person's ultimate destiny. Four years went by in a hurry, and all of a sudden, my 'education' was complete.

With the final oath, the convocation hat tossed in celebration, I have been vested with the right to pronounce myself an engineer. Today, as I stare at my degree certificate and the accompanying silver medal, glistening like a radiant emblem in all its lustre - now a souvenir from the past, things seem to have abruptly come to an end. I wonder if there's something to look forward to. If only I could relive the last four years....So long, alma mater !

REMINISCENCE

The crowd erupted in unison as Dhoni heaved his bat ferociously in his trademark helicopter-style, the bowler ducking for dear life. The poor Sri Lankan captain could only watch in vain as the ball disappeared into the stands, never to come back in play again. India had won the World Cup 2011, and I had been witness to a defining moment in world cricket history. A huge uproar resonated through the corridors of Ganga Bhawan; my own celebrations lost in the din of the numerous cricket-crazy rooters who had been cheering Team India right through the tournament. People all around me were dancing, clapping, brimming with pride and the joy of victory. Amidst all the jubilation, a complete stranger emerged from the congregation, greeting me with "Jeet gaye !" and locked me into a brief although firm embrace. It was then that I suddenly realized I can start counting my days at Roorkee, and how much I am going to miss this place after my purpose here is complete.

Hardly a few days have passed since I bid adieu to dear Alma Mater, yet each fleeting minute instills a fresh memory of the past four years. It seems as if all of it happened only yesterday as I tread nostalgically down memory lane.

The day I had been dreading had arrived. I stepped reluctantly into the cab that would take me to Delhi, from where IITR and I would part ways. The engine roared, and I waved goodbye to Pinky and his battalion stationed outside Cautley Bhawan, waving back at me. When I could no longer see them, I reclined against the soft cushion of the backseat and looked back at the years I had left behind. A succession of images flashed through my mind to merge into a kaleidoscope of my fondest memories of the four Golden years that constitute my life at Roorkee.


One

1. I was guarding my side of the room when Abhas entered, examining his roommate for the next one year and greeting me with a smile.
2. The freshers party had us swaying to the music, dancing to funky bollywood numbers for over two hours, with no sentience of time. It's surprising so many people wear moustaches in that picture - PJ, Chatter, Shirish, Pandu, Prateek, Mitwa, Doga and everybody else.
3. The Institute Cricket League, or ICL, inspired from the sport's latest Twenty20 avatar and the associated moolah, was catching up fast with the IITR junta. We had entered the tournament expecting nothing less than the trophy, and had emerged runners-up, owing to a laudable contribution from the Meta supporters jeering and howling insults at opponents, causing them to lose their focus and a piece of their minds.
4. The journey back from Crystal world. The first (and probably the last) time I have demanded a lift from an inter-state goods carrier with all kinds of fancy labels adorning its tough metallic frame.
5. Room no. G-75, RJB - the wing's bakar room, tutorial printing press, first-aid center and general store. Abhas and I trying to create more room to accommodate half of the meta batch inside.
6. Strikey. Pinky feeding the poor pup little crumbs of bread along with cookies mom had made for me with so much affection.
7. The NCC camp.

Two

8. A notice on my door ending with 'Issued in public interest. :)'
9. Midnight Football.
10. Sunsigns. I've never hated them so much. Working for a startup for the first time.
11. The phone call informing me I was now a part of IEEE. A 'geek'.
12. Thomso 2008 - the Karaoke misadventure. My first attempt at singing in public, of course, failing miserably.
13. Gandhi's tutorial class, MT-1 batch. A raging debate on the Economic turmoil shrouding world economy, and the United States' credit policy responsible for the crisis. Yet another assignment evaded.
14. Rafting in the Ganga for the first time. An adrenaline rush. Lying in coarse sands along the riverside, drenched in the Gangajal.

Three

15. The long wait outside the interview room in the placement complex, for our first company interview at IITR (Tata Steel).
16. Cognizance 2010. Sitting in the Cogni office as Chief Editor, writing for 'Souvenir'.
17. Bakar in the dark during power cuts - a regular occurrence before every mid term and end term.
18. The train to Chandigarh. Slipping by the examiner at Chandigarh station, unnoticed. Kondy emerging from the exit gate, grinning through his craggy teeth.
19. Communication skills class. Garvit trying hard to control himself from laughing as he speaks while Mahajan and company make funny gestures from the last bench.
20. Dhawal with his newfound talent in PJs.
21. A gang of counter-strike enthusiasts donning headphones huddled up in front of their laptops in Rajesh's room at midnight, with the Midsems commencing in a few hours.

Four

22. My first suit-up moment with Prateek and his camera, and the problem with the background (Mukul sir's door inscription in perfect disharmony with the attire).
23. Bhuppi's antics and the ensuing laughter.
24. Sandeep Kumar and Anunaya arguing, the topics - dowry, higher education abroad, corruption in government undertakings, and the common man. I always hoped they settled on a consensus sooner.
25. ZS's final interview, sketching a graph for the most random function ever, Jude keeping an eye over the lines appearing on the piece of paper pinned to the desk in front of him.
26. The Nainital trip - lovely montains, lush green fields, boating, watching the sun rising from a valley, Ranikhet's winding roads, hat(s).
27. Working in the prized Thermomechanical Simulator Lab with Shaibba, doing the most meaningful study and research I have engaged in till date.
28. Checking the grade against my name on the B.Tech Projects gradelist repeatedly to confirm if my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. Best Bachelor's Project award.
29. Geek Gazette farewell. Dracula, Green Goblin, Joker, Bin Laden and various other supervillains huddled up as the stars of the occasion. The entire team wishing me farewell by scribbling lines on my t-shirt to express their goodwill.


A loud bellowing of the horn brought me back to my senses, just as I reached the Security post. When the Tata Indigo exited the institute's main gate, it felt as if something was tugging at me to stay behind, for the track playing on the stereo abruptly changed to

"Dill tod ke na jaa
Muh mod ke na jaa...."

BEGINNINGS TO NO END

Nazira, 1998:
A young boy of standard five was escorted by the school peon to an empty classroom. He was perhaps the only student permitted the luxury of spending the morning assembly session in the comfort of a vacant bench right under the ceiling fan, while his would-be classmates were standing in the scorching sun listening to another of the Principal's soporific speeches. Of course, this arrangement would only last for a day and from tomorrow he would become one amongst them - ordinary schoolchildren bound to obey the regulations of the school, puppets in the hands of the institution's administrative machinery. But soon he'd realize this wasn't too high a price for what he was about to be blessed with - friends for life ! He placed his heavy bag next to another one on the front desk near the door and waited. It wasn't long before an army of audacious midgets stormed the room - wrestling, chatting animatedly, eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. A bunch of girls were giggling at me; apparently I had occupied their desk, or maybe I looked lackadaisical and dreamy - I dared not asked them why. The midgets burst into a furore of laughter. Before I could pull myself together, I was greeted by one of the harbingers of the commotion : "Hi new boy! They'd really mind if you don't move to some other desk. You can share my bench if you'd like to. What's your name?" And hence was the beginning of a new bond, a new friend, to be followed by several such bondings in quick succession, of which some would last for a long time to come.

Vadodara, 2001
I hated it when Dad was transferred to a different place. It took so much time to acclimatize, to unpack; I had to start all over again. The most difficult part was to get aquainted with complete strangers. Three years had passed since the young boy of 10 had gone through this ritual for the last time. Another new school. More new faces to read. But this time he was prepared, for he was now wiser, experienced in faking countenances. This time there was no eluding the morning assembly, no unfair privileges, no bizarre antics. I had already made friends with my classmates outside the school premises before it reopened after the summer vacations, so I was just an unrecognised somebody in a nonchalant crowd. Gradually, through my camaraderie(:D),I could garner the patronage, allegiance and friendship of several new 'allies', who stood by my side in every deed worthy of appraisal, each instance of bunking, acts of innocent mischief, or helping me with befuddling assignments, or sometimes thwarting a techer's best laid out plans to infiltrate the brotherhood we had unconsciously created over the years. Rahu, Bunny, Matey, Chobey, Bhaisi, Babba, Pappo, Chimi, Garvit, Arumai and Abhiram were some of the other unknowing members of this brotherhood, who would do their best never to let it down. Unnecessary to mention, they never did. When I left school, I was amazed at how a reserved, shy, down-to-earth person could have gained the company of so many comrades. The numbers, no wonder, have kept growing.

Roorkee has been second to home. It seems three years have whizzed by at a rapid pace. From the days at RJB to the present times at Cautley, there hardly has been time to conceive the slow, subtle changes, that have accumulated over time to result in bigger transformations that today seem so obvious to the eye, but are difficult to comprehend otherwise. However, one asset, needless to specify, has withstood the test of time, and perhaps, will continue to, for the next few decades. Wherever my fortunes might drive me to, I guess I'd always recall your hilarious capers and pranks whenever I feel out of sorts. And also this energetic phrase from first year : "Meta Rocks !".


Thank you so much for being a part of my life, which wouldn't have been as awesome without you folks. And take pride in that you have me too. ;)
Wish you all a HAPPY FRIENDSHIP DAY !

30 Minutes to Zenith

It doesn't concur often in the life of an ordinary mortal (with no mental superpowers atleast) that dejection of losing out on a staring-in-the-face opportunity is followed closely by the jubilation of achieving more than one would have fancied in the first place. What is foregone seldom finds its way back to the brooding lamenter; nagging him sharply, persistently, reminding him of the moment that could so easily have ensued in something much better but for that one mistake of indecision. But there are those rare, magical instances when a glimmer of hope shines through the pitch black darkness, tearing apart shadows of gloom that had descended to divest the heart of its merriment, depriving them of their morbid intentions.

I am perhaps one of the few blessed souls to have witnessed such a reversal in the existing status quo. A phone call and thirty minutes later, I find myself throwing my arms up in exultation, in complete contrast to the moribund disposition not so long ago. Thanking the Heavens, I animatedly dance around in the confinements of my room, mindless of the numerous chores pleading my attention. Then I suddenly realize I have climbed up to a rung of hierarchy that wields omnipotence, and is high enough for everybody at stake to have a clear sight of the steps I take. My every move is under scrutiny, and must culminate in the well-being of a humongous community. Maybe I would be followed at close heels by spies passing on every ounce of information to the bosses pulling their strings. Every premeditated step must be weighed cautiously, every direction foreseen thoroughly.

Or maybe this is just an idyllic beginning of an attempt to foray into hitherto alien territories and undiscovered competencies. A transformation in intellectual capabilities for the greater good. A sign of the persistent changes in life that make it all the more enjoyable. I hope there are still many more waiting to toss each one of us to the heights of ecstasy and individual contentedness.

To surprisals !

PS : As I write, I'm greeted with another great news ! What - A - Day this is turning out to be !

Opportunities will come and go....Until "The One" stops by !

"Ye kya hai?! Dhang ke formals pehenne hain....t-shirt nahi chalega....aur pata hai uske baad GD bhi hai?" - were words of wisdom uttered by the Great Pink Saint as I was about to leave for the pre-placement talk by the first giant company that has so far visited the campus with the object of capturing the best (in what terms is still uncertain...) of the lot for its summer internship programme next year. "Kya fark padta hai?" - was Rangeela's straightforward reply as he joined me on my way to STEP for the all-important presentation to be made by senior corporate executives to give us a first-hand view of what is expected of student interns in general, and IITians in particular, in order to make it to one of Forbes' top 50 conglomerates.

The place was teeming with dreamy souls and hyper-tensed "ghissus" all of whom were fancying their chances as the worthy suitor for the Princess of Wonderland's hand. Some looked like they had no idea they hadn't come to watch a football match while others looked set for their first real test of character. We climbed up the flight of stairs leading to the seminar hall even as the harried "placement" team of 4th-yearites (I wonder if all of them will be placed eventually) checked our identity just in case someone from COER had ideas of infiltrating into the session and somehow influencing the company to recruit from their campus instead of ours. A few enthusiasts were turned back from the door because they had forgotten to bring along their I-cards, but their determination never wavered and they decided to witness the drama from the backstage (yes, the whole thing later assumed a melodramatic form!).

Finally, after much waiting and debate over whether one of the representatives was a little out of the league of "normal" human beings, the guy who supposedly was an alumni of this totally awesome institution started conversing in a very business-like manner - the first sign that he was here only to talk shop and that these people weren't so credulous to impress upon. We went through presentations and audio-visuals that were 'refined' to suit the standards of the IITR junta, but failed to make an impact anyway. The questions that followed never seemed to cease - there was one which was met with much disdain from the corporate fraternity present; the poor inquisitor (an ambitious 4th yearite) might have to part with much more than his identification when the authorities come to know about the incident.

The final selections have been done - only 2 from the insti were fortunate enough to secure a place after staying up all night to prove their merit by exhibition of composure when all you care about is a soft bed and nobody to interrupt your snores. I first felt sad not to have been lucky enough to figure among the few names at the top of the list. But maybe, there is something waiting for me - something better than anything I've ever expected to achieve. Perhaps, by missing out on such opportunities, I am only inching closer towards that ultimate nirvana.

PS:

As I was pondering on where my destiny would take me, I suddenly stumbled upon this wonderful quote:

"I am here for a purpose and that purpose is to grow into a mountain, not to shrink to a grain of sand. Henceforth will I apply ALL my efforts to become the highest mountain of all and I will strain my potential until it cries for mercy."

It seems The Almighty really is keeping me motivated; He sure has plans.....