Health Watch - Ask the doctor

-HEALTH WATCH-

Ask the Doctor.

Through this column, Automoney provides you the rare opportunity to solve your health issues in consultation with one of the best doctors in Bangalore, Dr. Chandamoney.


From :Dinky Lullu John,19

Dear Doctor, I have been an asthma patient for the past 11 years. Every night around 1:00 am, I start coughing continuously on and on for so long, till around 1:02 am. When I cough my back starts aching and I feel as though my head is spinning in right angles. When my head spins I drink water and go and lie down on the couch in the front room. Then suddenly I become alright. I have a history of chicken pox, malaria and a short stint of Jaundice which stayed for only 9 months. I haven’t had any relapses yet. My previous doctor told me that I had chances of getting cystic fibrosis on my right biceps and need to stop consuming cheese grill sandwiches from the cafeteria. Tell me what to do doctor… What medicine do I take?

Dr. Chandamoney: Crocin.

Miles to go before that slip…

-GUEST ARTICLE-

Miles to go before that slip…
The story of a student’s race towards the slip before slipping out of the system

I woke up to the rooster crowing to its delight… from the gutturals of my mobile (I call it the natures call). Today is not a normal day; at least not for me. Today is the day I beat the SYSTEM… the day the good will seal its victory over evil and the world will be rid of its shackles of darkness… In short… today, I shall reach class before that attendance slip goes away! Well, this is not something to laugh over; not if you experience this where you are studying.

So, all ready for the battle for attendance, suddenly I drift off to that dreaded first day when I was told that every class of every subject could gain me 5 marks at the end if the semesters, making me grin from ear to ear.

5 marks! Just like that, by attending all the classes! How simple! I laugh off that episode in my memory as I have no time to waste because there are… miles to go before I sleep, or in my case, miles to go before that slip.

But, as I get out, I realise that this journey was not going to be easy. I face failure after failure. First: There are no auto-rickshaws ready to take me to college (I wonder where they expect to take you - North Pole is what I am guessing). When I finally manage to get one, the traffic is extremely smooth flowing!
As I celebrate, having reached, within me, I see the guard at the gate asking someone for the ID card. “Huh, Old trick mister!” I boldly tell myself. I quickly dig into my bag for the ID card and triumphantly flash it at him.

First attempt.
Result: Empty hand.

Second attempt.
Result: I’m sweating blood now. I look at the watch. There’s precisely two minutes and eleven seconds before the slip escapes. I stood there stupefied but not ready to accept defeat. I can see the security guard walk over to me in slow motion. I decide it’s time to use the best weapon that was sure to flip him off his mind. I prayed to the almighty and launched attack: I start crying for all my worth, though it sounds more like laughing, it works! I rush, run, and jump hurdles… (dupattas that are pulled over anything defines that you are just within the dress code). I look at the watch again. 17 seconds- may be I can just make it…

I wake up to the rooster crowing to its delight from the gutturals of my own mobile. I look at the time… GOOD LORD! It’s past 8:30! Looks like it is yet another battle against time today.

For those interested in knowing what happened with me that day: I reach fifteen minutes late. All the heaving and panting didn’t really help as I had just missed the slip. I was greeted with even better news: “From tomorrow no student is going to be allowed in their class or respective block after the bell”, or something to that effect, is what I caught of what the teacher said. I already seemed to be drifting back to that battle ground trying to plan strategies to beat the system. Oh if it just weren’t for that slip…

PS: Marketing forecast in this particular institution: Sales in the kiosk and the food court will rise by over 300% with the new law coming into effect.

Sujithra Gopalakrishnan

(Special thanks to Suji for believeing in our dream - editors)

The breeze of slumber.

The breeze of slumber.
The struggle, of a student to sit up in class, on a breezy afternoon after a heavy lunch, often goes un-noticed and down played. A tribute to those who struggle in this way.

One bright afternoon,
The temperature slowly rising;
And then remaining steady;
But the going up again…
Oh, let’s forget the climate
And ponder upon this herd
Of disinterested, unfocussed,
Bunch of humans calling themselves,
Students.
Ah! The breeze is lovely
And the time apt,
To blink one eye and then the other,
And then leave them closed
Until either the sweet chime
Of the old bell is heard,
Or by misfortune to be
Caught by ear by the
More learned being addressed as,
Teacher.
And there comes the topic
“How to conduct an interview”:
An activity carried out between
Two or more people.
But today, as I see,
This is no interview
But a teacher talking all alone
And listened to by few.
Woe! Be to this afternoon
As my eyes shut
Like heavy iron doors.
Caffeine tried to help me,
To help me help myself
From the embracing goodness
Of a sweet afternoon slumber.
O Learned being! Thou speaketh
So boldly but knowest not
How peaceful, our slumber is!
Non-stop is thine speech,
Pausing at intervals, to examine
How many have switched off,
And how many are
The batteries that are low!
How I wish those heavy iron doors
Would stay up at least
To appear respectful!
But nay, I am helpless!
To the forces of sight-
These heavy eyelids.
Oh my mind, vow that you will
Stay awake at least in the next hour,
Or else give in peacefully
To the breeze of slumber.

Wishful thinking.

Wishful thinking.

This column features certain dreams which the editors have, but know for sure that they wouldn’t materialise until a cow jumped over the moon. Sigh…

How we wish that…
1…all politicians knew how to read and write.
2…the media department had at least one window, so that our gurus could breathe.
3…CIA meant: Custard Instead of Assignments, in the place of the present full form, Continuously Irritating Assignments.
4…Mr. Chinnappa and gang’s (the guys who collect attendance slips) work hours were 1pm - 2pm.
5…there were no/less cockroaches in the Aloo (potato) buns the next time we were hungry.

the editorial team

a u to m o n e y

Published by:
Chief Editor


Any more people willing to hold any Chief position in this publication, kindly contact us at the email address given below. You could also stay away from such positions, if you wish, and contribute by sending us articles, poems, creative ideas, thoughts, emails and loads of criticism. We would like to hear what you think about Automoney and help us bring out a better edition the next time around, if we are not expelled by then.
Special thanks to those souls who risked their lives by contributing to Automoney.
Let students have their voice!

READ FURTHER

The Food Re-view Column

The Food Re-view Column
By famous foodie Jacquelin Janakiamma

[Caution: The names of the items reviewed in this column may not have any connection at all with the real product.]

Item: Georgia Cold Coffee (machine ones)
Location of availability: Kiosk

Beautiful packaging. Looks good. Tastes…Uh…there are not any taste buds left after drinking it and let’s not talk about the smell. Jancy suspects a loose motion in the coffee machine, which produces this mysterious fluid which is packaged in plastic. The funny part is that this sewage is actually priced! That too an astronomical sum of 15 rupees. Jancy wonders why coffee lovers are not up in arms yet for calling it coffee. She also suggests labelling the drink (the term ‘drink’ here is again disputable), ‘Blended Coffee powder accidentally spilt over spoilt milk in a hurry’, or something. Jancy urges the sellers to stop deceiving students in the name of coffee, that too cold. Or else she will call the Bangalore Food Inspector, which also happens to be her husband.

Activity Centre

Activity Centre

This column provides brings you the latest social trends in the society and helps you stay occupied when you don’t have much to do.

How to start a riot

Riots are a rage today. They help you get yourself on the front page of the newspapers and on redundant videos on deprived 24 hour news channels. The best part is neither do you need to be intelligent nor do you need much experience in the field, to start one. Just begin it and things will take its own course. Automoney tells you how to start your own riot.

Problem : To start a riot with available resources.

Hypothesis: ‘Any Tom, Dick or Harry can start a riot for any silly reason without much difficulty’.

Materials needed: a couple of stones, cricket/hockey bat, visible glass windows, a bike and some nut-cases.

Precaution/ Requirements: Find / make / search / for a friend whose Daddy or uncle has very high political clout. You will be invincible with a pal like him as long as his Daddy’s party is in power.

Procedure: Any of the following methods could be employed.

• Throw a stone at a place of worship belonging to any religion and yell out “Bharat Mata Ki…”
• If you have an extra stone, throw one at a policeman standing in an open area. When the he comes at you, the people around will take care of the rest.
• Carry a filled gas stove on a train, by mistake. Light the burner. Leave it in the train toilet and escape. The rest will take its own course. This one will spread around the state and, may be, further within no time.
• If you like a particular Indian language, find people with similar interests; form a group and speak provocatively in public. Make sure you tell that your language is superior and all other languages are as useless as Sanskrit or Latin.
  
  Since you have classes now, there are activities which you can try out during your summer vacation. Just make sure there is a bike somewhere nearby so that you can light the lamp for the riot and go home.

End note:

If you are still alive, we can have the analysis of results and may be a discussion.

The librarian of the Library of Liberty.

To stretch a short story long

The librarian of the Library of Liberty.
Based on a true story of a library-loving student


Once upon a time there was a library. Like all libraries which had a lot of unwanted books, this one too had a human-in-charge called a librarian. His job was to…Uh… actually, only he knew what he was doing there, because all those who sat in the Library of Liberty were busy sleeping, or else messaging their sweet hearts. Huge boards carrying jokes like ‘Maintain silence’ and ‘Do not use cell phones inside’ hung about in strategic locations in here, just like the Hutch ad hoardings outside. Remarkably, the students put an effort at following the former but were often caught disobeying the latter (“My hand feels empty without my phone”, as one shared with this author). Now, a noticeable quality of the librarian was that he had an eye for cell phones and caught keypad-happy users and reproached them loudly. I mean LOUDLY. Students who sat around watching this reality show, found this very frustrating, as the urge to restrain oneself to maintain silence was a trying task, which usually caused much fatigue.

Now what used to happen almost every single day was that, the student suffering a loss of his cell phone, as well as his dignity, would stand near the librarian’s desk (some one said that it was custom made for this purpose), awaiting the pleasantries that barged forth from the dutiful man of stacked books. At that time, a loud ring sounding like a phone from the 50’s would shake the whole library. Even the assistant librarian (Yes, there was one of them too), who kept her phone on silent mode would suffer temporary stoppage of her heart beat due to the suddenness of this phenomenon. Things would get worse as the Librarian, who would seem to suffer from immediate amnesia regarding the ‘No Cell phone inside” rule, would take out a Sony-Ericsson from his pocket and would begin to rap at 237 words/min at the rate of an estimated 95 Decibels, while communicating with an ignorant man on the other end of the phone (probably, a telemarketing executive).

Imagine this happening many times, everyday.

Naturally, couples who bunked classes together never found this sanctum of books as the ideal place for romance.

One day, the Librarians cell phone, cried yet again, as loud as it could. The pandemonium, beginning from the earth shattering ‘tring-tring’ repeated itself ending with a conversation which went as fast as BSNL broad band’s bit-rate*. As soon as he disconnected, a “We wish you a merry Christmas” ringtone blasted off from the students’ side of the library. The guilty ridden librarian, amidst the students’ muffled laughter, tried his hand at acting like a person who had forgotten his ear drums at home. The ring tone completed the chorus(“We wish…happy new year”) and died down, stopping short of the stanza (“Good tidings…”).

The Librarian resumed breathing.
Yet again, the book-man’s phone rang the sweet chiming-bell ringtone which resonated in the high roofed library. This time he showed considerable mastery of his skill to operate a mobile handset, and cut the call. A miracle.

As if in retaliation, “We wish you a merry Christmas” rang out again from the same student, the duration of which matched that of the Librarian’s sweet chiming Ericsson. Furiously, the book-monster charged towards his suspect who still seemed to think it was Christmas. He was just about to confiscate the lad’s mobile, when Ericsson started chiming again, from his desk, which was now around 20 steps away. With it crying like a hungry new-born, and knowing that he was going to lose the game, he yelled, “Give me the phone!”. The cheeky student who knew his moves smiled boldly, and replied “No”. All the eyes in the library moved from student to librarian to his desk. The chimes now reached a feverishly high pitch. Knowing that he was in quick sand, the Librarian attempted, “Come and give me the phone”, and leapt towards his desk in an attempt to silence the pandemonium. Identifying the call as an unavoidable one following a look at the screen, he picked it up. Immediately, the joy of Christmas pervaded the whole hall through a monophonic rendition of the now familiar Christmas song. The Librarian showed signs of not being able to concentrate on his conversation, and kept repeating a variety of “Hello”s amidst the din of the now fairly audible laughter of students who watched he “War of the Cell Phones”. The atmosphere of Christmas faded away and Mr. Book(ed)man , with much sweat dripping down his forehead (which confirmed family matters as the content of conversation), turned around to catch hold of the student who was bold enough to pull one on him.

But he had coolly walked away amidst the din.

With much weariness, Mr. books sat behind his desk. Sensing much distress, the assistant librarian approached him enquiring if he was alright and whether he needed some water.
“No”, he grunted, “Just show me how to switch this thing off.”

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

* Claimed to be around 2 mega bite per second

Blog at its best.

Today, finally I got to read the blog which I had read only twice before. the entries have increased and its a beautiful one.

It made my eyes water. Not because of the emotional content, but by the fact that I knew 90 percent of the stories in context. Re-living the memories of what my best friend had gone through, left me shaken. He had told most of these stories, especially when his heart could not hold it anymore. I am honoured to have been confided to, to be trusted and to have been beside this elder brother who's saved my number as 'anchor', on his phone, beside the name. To have been part of that big story, I consider myself lucky. Its not with everyone that you pour out your heart, in this volume. Like a dam that can't hold anymore, those feelings kept spilling out. As always, I still believe that the dam is built on a strong sure foundation, the foundation called the Lord. Miracles.  Countless miracles. No brother, not a coincidence. you are right. He's beside you. and your life has proven it to me.

I love way he writes. No bars. Never apologetic. Always candid and frank. Just the way he felt. No sensorship. Heart on the blog. I would love to write that way. But I hold back. straight from the heart writing has its own beauty. I love that beauty.

Always beside you, buddy. we've got great plans for the future and have placed it in front of the Lord. He'll use or discard it. I'm for using it! God Bless you.

End note.
I wish I had a net connection of my own so that I could keep blogging regularly cos there's so much I want to write about.

---

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Visit the Yahoo! Auto Green Center.

Lots of ideas

Got a huge wave of ideas on things which I'd like to do once the exams are over.

 

Go for violin classes

Write for that magazine I've signed up for

Read those dusty books piled up in my roon (all which I'd bought)

Mail all those friends whom I'd sworn to but haven't mailed in ages and regularly keep in touch

Bible studies and note taking - learning that Holy book a bit more

Researching on  statistics - one thing  really need in my career and don't know for nuts.

Stay some time with my parents.

Meet grand pa and find out how seems to be rocking in that small place of his at this age.

Revamp the blog

 

Usually, I love to make such lists long and they end up remaining as a mere list. This time, I will be working on it. Sure. No, no swearing.

---

8:00? 8:25? 8:40? Find a flick in no time
with theYahoo! Search movie showtime shortcut.

Moving on

It is  very important to move on in life towards the end of a course in college or some other institution, especially if ou have had close friends. I thought I had moved on until I spent some time with a friend of mine whom I am not sure I will meet again. Many reasons: Distance. Priorities. Financial situations. An Archies card might say "You will be in my heart forever".

 

A big lie in exchange of some money.

 

People will never be as close as they were when they part ways. They are going to find nw and perhaps, better friends and so are you. the imortant thing is to let go of memories. Let them stay as memories and have its own place and context and may it prompt you to keep in touch. Once you let go, you can move on towards a new hold-no-bars friendship, the length of which depends on situations. Sounds pessimistic ,i know, but then, what if that is the truth.

 

Of course, I have disclaimers, with a couple of exceptions who remain just the same when you meet them after many years. If that is so, good for you!

 

Life, I feel, calls us to move on though that is not the thing which we are ready to hear or like hearing. 

 

But then, truth hurts. 

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Yahoo! oneSearch: Finally, mobile search that gives answers, not web links.

Thanks, dear Marjan, my faithful friend.

Marjan never fails to send some ever inspiring stuff which could just light up one'slife right away and provoke one to action. SomethingsI found at the bottom of her latest email.

"The fruit of Silence is Prayer. The fruit of Prayer is Faith. The fruit of Faith is Love. The fruit of Love is Service. The fruit of Service is Peace."

"Beware of prejudice! Light is good in whatsoever lamp it is burning. A rose is beautiful in whatsoever garden it may bloom. A star has the same radiance whether it shines from the east or from the west."

Flopping the magazine

This is to announce the successful flopping of the magazine called Automoney, which flopped even before it could be released.
The copy was editted and all done and had to just go through one of the teacher's eyes. I gave it to him. It' still there.

* * *
All my friends and juniors have gone home. Happy hols! I might just publish it in heaven or something, if they have a publishing house there.

Time to change?

Some people evolve their own style of writing over time. Their writing become so characteristic to the way they are. Over time, my writing has evolved, I believe, and many people, surprisingly, have given good feed back. There are times when I rite stuff which is not the usual stuff, which in itself, I believe is not that boring.
The thought that's in my mind is should I stick to write the same way, which is spontaneous, or also include the stuff out side the periphery of my usual writing.

I guess, on blogs, you can write what you want, the way you want. Once you have a regular set of readers, then perhaps, they will start expecting the same kind of stuff. In my case, that category consists of a few but faithful number of people. For now, then, i shall write whatever I want. Guess, I'll do the same, later too.

Deb, your comment made me think. Thanks.

They say them good

Blogger noticed these blogs today:

London Underground Tube Diary
Healing Iraq
Raising Yousuf
Secret Dubai Diary
Tokyo Girl Down Under
the breakfast blog
AOL Hot Searches
The Thinking Blog
Xenomachina

inch by inch.

The day is nearing. The last day 56 students, together as a class, after 3 years. I have been postponing thinking about that last day and the days to come, for days. Today it struck me. Really hard.

Ol' buddy Sol took his last class for us. The first one to be the last, just because its the first class on the first day of the week. Monday 9 am. It was on 'Christianity and the Colonisers'. He spoke eloquently and bravely about how the European perception of Christianity caused the African Cultures to ' Fall Apart'. The bell rang and my heart wrenched. He was the first in the series of teachers to say that final "All the Best" which meant "Good Bye" . No more Sol. No more Afrcian Post Colonialist Literature. No more intellectually stimulating discussions. No more social- upliftment thoughts inspired by the talks on the suffering of African people in the hands of the Colonisers. No more Mondays. They are ending one by one. And my heart pounds hard against my frail rib cage, wanting to burst out and stay back in time. Inch by inch. It creeps in. There is going to be a good bye. And I am dreading it.

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Successful entry

Checking if a blog could be updated through email. Success!

3310: End of story – A new beginning

3310: End of story – A new beginning
(Those who don't know the stories, check this out
http://georgelivestheday.blogspot.com/2005_12_01_archive.html
http://georgelivestheday.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html)

For those who remember the stories on my 3310, here’s the end of it.
On a not so bad day, except for the exams, I tried being a good boy which led to the end of my relation‘ship-wreck’ with 3310. It had been quite faithful to me for 14 months, save the Display problems it displayed and the lack of energy towards the end of its days (which is marked from a week prior to its vanishing).

March 2 ’07. Mid sem exams. My classmates and I didn’t really care for the test and all of us were in a holiday mood and considered two hours in the exam hall nothing but drudgery. Keeping a careless attitude, I kept my 3310 in my pocket and began writing the exam. Then I realized that it was a dangerous thing to do in my institution as the jobless squad of exam controllers would come and check my pockets and would de-bar me from the exams. So, just the way I’d done in the previous days, I kept the three-three on the invigilators table. The teacher must have blessed me for being so honest, half an hour into the exam. May be she thought “ Missed it!.”

My answers seemed to take forever to complete and I found myself keeping the teacher waiting in the class as all the others had left by then. But the sweet chimes reminding the end of drudgery hadn’t been sounded.

Finally, they did.

'em little things in life

Little things in life give so much pleasure. It just leaves you dumbfounded when something as simple as a letter from a loved one just turns your day upside down. Rather, the sunny side up. I love letters. Handwritten ones. Whether it’s written with hatred or love, comes secondary. It’s very special when there’s love flowing all through it. I got a letter written in red ink from my sister which made me feel, after all, what matters the most is how much you love and how you care for others. And honestly, it makes you stop loving with limits. There is not a thing that holds you back any more and that freedom to love is something, I feel, everyone should experience at some point of life; if not, life is incomplete. Perhaps you are thinking that there is no one who would love you like that. The solution is simple, why wait for somebody to love you that much? You go ahead first. That isn’t easy, but you ought to try. What’s wrong in loving someone?

Are they just one of us? Or them once us?

During the Psychotic Seminar on Ladies Cykologi, which happened last week, I got a chance to chat with ol' Sole and Paddy. Sole had just presented a paper on Women's writing and i apprecitated him for ending it on a constructive as well as postitve note, rather than just bash the ladies in retaliation towards many who were doing that through their papers, with the Hood of The Department Ms.Goldie in the lead (she got quite emotional and was applauded loudly by the mostly female audience). I had no regrets on attending the seminar. It was interesting to see how life was on the other side of the fence.
Coming back to Paddy and ol' Sol, we had tea together were I laughed when they cracked some joke in Tamil. We talked just like I would talk to anybody in my class. They were out of their Guru-garb and were just plain human beings, perhaps a bit senior to me. They seemed to have been me, once upon a time. (Do they miss being like us? Nothing is forever). They also treated me like a friend and answered my questions regarding the novels they were handling in klass. Paddy gave me a great perspective on how to read David Malouf's 'Fly Away Peter', which I thought was filled with very boring nature descriptions (Oh, but not as bad as Thomas Hardy). He said, that Malouf expected us to imagine the landscape, make it real the way he saw it, so that we could get an insiders view towards it. Now, that suddenly seemed something beautiful to do. An excercise for my empty brain, which would stimulate my imagination and creativity. Thanks Paddy. I still think your classes are academically enriching with all those points you expect us to discuss. And Sol, you rock with all those descriptions on Post Colonial literary works. I wish more people listened to you guys in class. They'd gain much more from you all than the Abnormally Psychotic Classes. No offence to Cyko, cos that's the field I'm going to be in!

Announcement: New Magazine.

For all those who are feeling quite strongly about the way the system is functioning, or rather malfunctioning... here's an outlet. I'm attempting to vent our concerns, in many ways through a News Letter called :

automoney

It's going to be a satirical magazine in collaboration with BHL. I'd love to get more ideas, comments, thoughts and issues which we can raise up. Actually, this magazine will concentrate, step by step on issues which are of concern, but are down played in our institution. Those who aren't from the institution can also contribute, if you are that jobless. Please spread the word. Thanks.
Mail your stuff to:

editors.automoney@gmail.com

We appreciate humour and would like to have a lot of it. But then, you write the way you want. Sarcasm accepted.

Thanks!
Low profile guy and BHL.

The Sound guy of music

The Sound guy of music
By the end of two years being in the Kul team of the institution, one reaps many benefits as long as one is willing to interact. Knowing the ‘sound guys’ when you go for a fest and take part in a stage-music event, helps you in many ways. First of all, you get all the equipment and, generally, how many ever mics you want. Then you don’t have to worry about the kind of sound that comes through the PA , as they’d manage it because you have already gone and said a warm hello to them and have asked the guy to assure us of a good sound. Actually, genuinely recognising their work and their ability and letting them know about it, creates a friendship between you and them because they know that you actually are grateful for the service they did, which most people often find hard to remember. Then there is the fact the, you ask for more or less volume, they’d do it gladly for you. It IS important to say a thank you from the heart once the programme is over, irrespective of how it went.
I forgot to do that at the Jaw-Chef fest. Wanted to say thanks to Joe who gave us an awesome sound and output on the PA. Thanks to you Johansson, if you ever happen to read this.
***

Deportmental Fixation

Deportmental Fixation

My friend told me a deplorable story with the Deportment of Cykologi cast as the villain, yet again. For the end semester practical exam, the second year students were asked to bring school students as subjects. They claimed that they were to make it authentic experiments. 60-70% of those doing Cykologi courses are not from Bangalore and do not have many contacts locally. In spite of this limitation, they were asked to bring school students as subjects (or guinea pigs), that too on week days. I wonder why the department which studies human psyche did not even pay attention to simple things like the difficulty for out station students to fulfil this requirement. So students ran around in a frenzy trying to get school students.

Many disguised pre-university course (PUC) students as High School-aged subjects. Some bribed people to come. Some walked in to a near by school with their powerful contacts and loaned the students for an hour. Towards the end, there was such anger and frustration among the students that they began cursing the department loudly in the college corridors. The anger touched its peak when those who could not find school aged subjects were allowed to conduct experiments on the usual subjects (friends, mothers, friend’s friends, etc), without any punishment, unlike threatened by the Deportment before. Towards the last batches, anybody and everybody were allowed to bring a subject of their choice.

What injustice! First, they threaten to cut Assessment Internally Continuous marks if the subject was not of the required age, causing dissatisfaction and frenzy among students due to the mounting difficulty and inconvenience in a city not their own. And in the end, once they had been through all the trouble of bribing and fancy dressing friends and strangers, the Deportment just overlooked those who didn’t even care to at least attempt following the rules. This was absolutely thoughtless of the Deportment of Cykologi and at least in the future, should not act like a stubborn child when it comes to trivial matters like these. And if they act stubborn, they should stick to what they say and not become partial and let some students not care for the guidelines, which are at the first place, crazy. I wonder what kind of a fixation a Deportment forms as it develops over the years in to a fully grown, still stubborn child.
***

The other side of the curtain.

The other side of the curtain.

(Thoughts from the seminar)
One is so easily susceptible to believing and accepting someone else’s beliefs and ideologies in such a short time, how much ever you used to oppose them. It is so difficult to not believe when they convincingly state the facts while drawing a curtain over the other side of their argument, often narrowing the visions of those who have not gone to the other side of the curtain. It is the easiest to fall prey to such one sided arguments when there is no one else to bring up the other end of it, which often appears sugar coated and goes down easily, unlike truth which tastes like bitter medicine.
***

You and your neighbours.

In my sixth grade, came a new guy. His name was unusually long for any person from our community (which is notorious for giving weird names to their new born children. Eg: Flubbeesh). Mr. Moncy (There! I told you), our class teacher, who was a strict but funny man, asked him his name during the introduction at the beginning of the academic year.
"Jerrin Antony Joseph Thottaan".
"I didn't ask all your neighbours names, just say yours", said the 'strictly funny' man.
The class laughed away.

11 years later, I came across a person who taught in a famous college in the Pub city. Name?
'Jesus Milton Rousseau S.'
My best buddy asked me, on telling her, about him:
" Does the 'S' stand for Shakespeare?"

With little children after a long day.

After the long wait and the sweet victory at a fest which was everything but "KALA" (hey...perhaps, it was 'kaala'), I asked BHL if he'd join me for a programme where I thought I'd have to be alone. The programme was to be with kids and entertain them with songs stories, games and all that, while their daddies and mummies sat next door in a garden saying "I still do" (It's the Valentine's thing coming up). BHL, to my suprsie agreed and as usual we had a great time talking about a wide variety of things, from salt to camphor, to use a local term. The journey to Indira's Nagar was great, though we ended up paying the Autoguy through our nose!

The children sat on the turning thing and swings and slowly we got close to them and it went on for an hour, effortlessly, by God's grace. We played Follow the Leader (his idea), then an instant improvised game: What-occupation-am-I-acting-out? which wasn't all that heavy as it sounds. then we taught them, the songs "Telephone to Jesus", and then when we went indoors- "I want to be your friend a litle bit more". This last song was awesome with all the uncles who were there to helP JOINING IN THE SUPER KIDS ACTION. wAS FUN, MAN..

The dinner was great and we all had to our necks fill. Yeah, uptil our necks. Afterall, the dinner was the main attraction of the programme. At least that's what Vinay and Tom said.
We walked through silent Indiranagar, which is noisy by day, in search of a bus. But BHL's idea was to take a cab to Koramangala. He was the rights. We got one all the way to my bus stop and then we parted ways. Good night. It was great fun and filling.

migration and settlement- the prototype of humanity in a class room

In the beginning of first year, nobody wanted a fixed place in the class room. All were free birds and any teacher who even dared to impose a particular place for the students of a noisy class were met with threatening glares and mumbles of strong dissentment.

I'll sit where I want. This isn't primary school. We're grown ups.

Months passed. Today I look around the class. Everyone's on the same seat as yesterday. Looks like their behinds have been stuck to those 38 year old benches. There is a fear to move to another seat,beside a class mate whom one hasn't talked to much. Fear of alienation, fear of talking to a class mate outside one's own group. Nobody wants to befriend another who's been in class but seems like a stranger, just before going out of the college (it's the last year).

Some months ago, a gang of friends "reasoned" with another group of friends why that place belonged to them and how they'd got used to it. The latter group were so cross that they mumbled and walked off.

People migrate for a while. Then they setlle down. It's been the same with life, the same with humanity. Communities of people migrated thousands of years ago and settled somewhere, at a point of time. When other migrants came along after a while, initial settlers flinched their eye brows. Sometimes, it led to wore. thank God, that can't happen here. But it's all the same. Even in life Passionate lovers settle down for one specific lover at some point of time. Most people stick to a particular job at some stage, after shifting many jobs.

And, I realised, the human community, shows the same characteristics wherever they are- be it a class, or in life, or anywhere. Migration stops at some point of time. But it need not be pleasant to all.

OE - Beginning with the Seventeenth century.

Find them:

There's a lot in a NIL pint-oh not again, it'll scatter all over! So ban a teacher who can wear saddam's shoes and walk beside Paddy fields along with King Sol who's against Edward-the Last, of the neighbouring country, besides being a buye(r).

If you've found them, congratulations, you can keep quiet now!

Smokey.

It is just funny when your lecturer smells of cigarette when you greet him in the college corridor during the break.

Journalism Class Script II

Recently, the bunny came and told me an inccident which would qualify to be presented under Journalism Class Script II:

A very active student from the Bachelors classcomes running into the staff room and asks Beloved Mr. NR, "Sir, Sir, I want to go to the UK and study when should I write the IELTS exam?"

"Uh.. when they hold it."

Hope she writes the exam.

* * *

Sir talking about Sports Reporting in Class:

"Anyone knows the National Sport of Pakistan? Anyone?"

"Cricket Sir!!", attempts a backbencher, which carried a a typical immature teenage american phrase "Duh...!" as the subtext.

"It's Hockey , ok? It's hockey", he revealed and added, " Atleast one thing they both agree on."

3rd year English textbook on google books

Did anybody ever know that you get to read third Year Optional English text books on google books? Sign in with your google account and study fortheexams online. Why buy the books, anyway?
Instructions:
Go to the google site. Press the 'more' button and then the books tab and go ahead searching for your book.
I got it while searching 'Sashi Deshpande' for an assignment. Try a person from the EuropeanLit book and I'msure you'llfind the other book there too.

Here's where you get Text and the Worlds.
Indian Lit:
http://books.google.com/books?q=Shashi+Deshpande&as_brr=0

European lit:
http://books.google.com/books?lr=&q=The+handsomest+man+in+the+world&btnG=Search+Books&as_brr=0

Enjoy Fellas. Print me a page when you print one.

Et tu, digest?

Everytime I visited my Mom's place, especially, her eldest borther's, Readers Digest used tobe my favourite past time. When there was nothing else to do, I'd read every single article. Otherwise the routine used to be flippin across the jokes. Once I started reading the articles, I got hooked to RD. Once, at my Mom's mom's bro's place, I sat up till 2 in the moring reading the different issues I'd gathered from the lonely house. Surely, it was a reliable companion. I loved the classy look, the style of articles, the paintings which came on the back-cover, etc.

We never subscribed RD at home.

But the excitement when I saw one at somebody's house was special. Later, I saw the changes in the digest. The lay out changed.

Forgivable.

But when the front cover's format had to come out with headings with numbers on it: 5 ways to reduce your flab, 7 techniques for better memory, 6 ways to eat food and stuff like that and the lates: 14 ways to find love on the Indian edition, it was all boring. RD became more of an elite health magazine, which advised drinking fruit juice for breakfast

14 ways to find love???? WHAT?

Are Indians so deprived of love that RD has to suggest methods for them to find love? Heights of commercialisation and regionalisation has turned RD to a way that 'suits' India. Nonsense. RD toohas joined the band wagon of commercial bundits, whose aim is to exploit while putting up a superficial image. All fluff.
Et tu, digest?

Et tu, digest?

Everytime I visited my Mom's place, especially, her eldest borther's, Readers Digest used tobe my favourite past time. When there was nothing else to do, I'd read every single article. Otherwise the routine used to be flippin across the jokes. Once I started reading the articles, I got hooked to RD. Once, at my Mom's mom's bro's place, I sat up till 2 in the moring reading the different issues I'd gathered from the lonely house. Surely, it was a reliable companion. I loved the classy look, the style of articles, the paintings which came on the back-cover, etc.

We never subscribed RD at home.

But the excitement when I saw one at somebody's house was special. Later, I saw the changes in the digest. The lay out changed.

Forgivable.

But when the front cover's format had to come out with headings with numbers on it: 5 ways to reduce your flab, 7 techniques for better memory, 6 ways to eat food and stuff like that and the lates: 14 ways to find love on the Indian edition, it was all boring. RD became more of an elite health magazine, which advised drinking fruit juice for breakfast

14 ways to find love???? WHAT?

Are Indians so deprived of love that RD has to suggest methods for them to find love? Heights of commercialisation and regionalisation has turned RD to a way that 'suits' India. Nonsense. RD toohas joined the band wagon of commercial bundits, whose aim is to exploit while putting up a superficial image. All fluff.
Et tu, digest?

Steppin into a puddle of Indian music competitions.

Indian music. Something which i thought I knew nothing of. Finally I got to it and realised. It's music. The passion I shared. To add on, the instumentation of todays music(popular music, shared a lot to what I generally play. Gave it a shot.

First out of compulsion in first year.
Second year, out of competition spirit.
Everytime the bunny came and told me about the new team we could form, I was unsure. Was still thinking... BHL added to the confusion by logically telling about the chances we had and the fun we'd have in playing as a team.
Rob just ordered - You're coming.
"But I'm in the C for SA, Acoutics, Electric...don't think I'll be able to manage time..."
No, it's alright,shut up ande just come. See you in the evening (for practice)

That's when I decided. Guess Bunny wasn't happy with me just giving up doubts on Robs compulsion. He had tried a lot before that.

We fought took it like a battle. We loved ' the winner and his teams music. But we believed we were as good. We fought I loved the preparation. the strategies. Everyone knew in a music competition,it wasn't just the music: Strategies, comparisons, research, surveys, planning, assessment. Like a corporate Company. Like a business. It was fun. It was like playing a game. A simulation of our future lives. Excitement. Hard work. The balancing act, with Studies and the CS of A, church, mp, friends...Man! I look up to the mountains, where will my help come from, My help comes from the Lord who created heaven and earth!

And that's exactly where it came from.

What's in a Pondy?

What's in a Pondy?

Frankly speaking, most Christites who put their hearts into Darpan, dream about going to Pondy. What's at Pondy? Factually, a mega fest named 'Spandan' (meaning: beat/ heart beat) in a mega College called GYPMER in Pondicherry , where many other colleges take part and the competition is tough. The programmes go on till late night and the feeling of being on the bus to Pondy along with your 'Cul' team mates and representing your college elsewhere is something that is supposed to be memorable. I haven't gone there, so I don't know. There's much excitement in the air. Perhaps, more than our team and the fellow Cul team members, it's our friends and class mates who seem to be in seventh heaven about us going to Pondy. I wonder what the previleged Cul team members of the previous years felt when they won the compettions and found themselves destined to go to Pondy. "Man!!! Gonna rock in Pondy, eh?", "What macha..All set for Pondy-a?", "Lucky buggers!/ (sigh)/", are just some of the describable reactions. I don't want to sound all previleged and proud. But the reaction of the other guys, who haven't been to Pondy but still are mesmerised under the magic of a place and event, which they have only heard of puts me in a thinking mood. So what's in a Pondy, where I've never been, but gives the other fellows who're going to stay back, when we're away, the jitters? I see people dying to go to Pondy this year. Various tactics, strategies and exertion of influence is going on just to get oon that bus. All that's going to be over. I know who's going and who is not. This list is going to be up today.

I'm happy to be a potential Pondy goer this year. To be part of the College folktale ("We did this in Pondy", "we won that in Pondy", "We lost but we had fun in Pondy", "What a feeling to get the cup in Pondy", etc.), which would be told further down the generation. To be a part of the contingent which represented the famous college of Mission and Vision. I look forward to it. To be part of the team, make new friends, experience something new together, to share and laugh and cry and travel together, to form new bonds and add in something in the album called life. Thank God for the opportunity. Really thank God. Don't think I deserve it.

And to end on a queer, but joyful note. My friend is happy and all excited about going to Pondy this year. He's been working out a lot off late and I ask him why. With that trademark smile he says "I'm getting ready for Pondy". Well, well.

The Journalism class script - 1

This post is dedicated to Mr. Naresh Rao, JPEng students' ever favourite teacher.

Some of his quips and quotes and a couple of incidents, from our class in June 2006.

• 
  Journalism class- One Morning:"Uh....So who can tell me a definition of NEWS? You know what a definition is , right?" (And we go: Sir we're 21, 22 and this is college)And then he goes again... "I mean when I say a definition, it should be one, told by somebody or something like that. Don't just make it up sitting there.."
• 
  Sir calls out the rolls. Suddenly a huge THUD noise is heard wihich signified someone almost broke his back at the whack of another student. All laugh when they find out it was Ms.Jols' Thunderous whack on Bar's back. Hearing the commotion that followed, he stops the roll call and goes: " I don't know whether he deserved it but... lets try to keep such activities outside the class...0k? ...ya".
• 
  Yet another day. High volume talking in the class during roll call- "Uh... you should learn to curb your natural instincts for communication with each other during the class...especially the ones that involve a lot of noise..."
• 
  Another roll call story. People busy talking as usual. Some forget to answer their numbers and Sir continues. Realising what she had done a girl calls out, "Sir!Sir! Number 23 Sir! ". Visibly a bit irritated, he says, " Uh... You need to react....".
  Usually his power point presentations end with an out of topic line which goes either "All the best", "Thank you", or if its exam time, "Wish you all good luck" or something relevant to the times , accompanied by a "...ya". IT was very funny one day whenhis PPT on the News Paper Organisation ended with something else. As he clicked the slide quickly to the last one, it flashed for a moment before closing , reading " Made any sense??!"
• 
  Bunny, had just got back from his internship as an Asst. Director for a movie. He talked to the class on Sir's instructions and shared his experiences: How he was able to get to that post through an Uncle who was a film producer, how he was respected there, interactions with Nandita Das, film techniques, etc. After he finished, Sir, took the stage and said, " I think what we need to learn out of this.... ", (everyone waited for the valuable lesson we had to learn from Funny's talk) "...is that we should all go back home...go back home and search your family tree..." (July 1)

More to come...

The People who got paid for making me, me.

Some teachers teach. Some teachers just give a speech. And the real teachers reach your heart and stay there forever.
And as you reach college, there are hardly few of them who can reach. Some who did( in college):

1. Mr.Patrick
He knew it. He taught it. He played, so did we. He couldn't keep respect away from him. He talked to a student like a student. To a teacher like a man and to a Principal , like a friend. Hats off, Sir!

2. Mr. NR
You know him and I needn't tell. He knew exactly what he talked. Never talked more than that was needed. Has the wit to find humour in the place you thought you couldn't find it. Moreover, wherever he goes, an aura of respect surrounds him. Respect, for which he never asked, but always got, unfailingly. Salute!

They're all Real flesh and Blood. Hard to believe.

Sailing with arms open wide.

Sailing with arms open wide.

The afternoon was just amazing. The cliched shady tree, cool breeze and children playing in front of you, is an awesome mood setter in real life, if not on paper.
The stories of a twisted and wrenched heart poured out. The background, how people never understood, prejudices, hopes and dreams, the shouldering of familial responsibility... it all just flowed. And in between, the love of the life.
It was never obvious. At least between them. Or, to them. But like I would explain to my super liberal modern brother and sister-in-law, the piture was drwn in front of me, giving dtailed reasons of why it would only remain a dream and nothing more. The words reflected maturity, sensibility and pragmatism. But the very words spelt backwords betrayed a wish, a longing- " If ever you come to me, my arms would be wide open, and I would receive you."
Though a sailor on another boat myself, I'm still not able to see the other coast or the tiny rays from the light house, though I felt it was time to have seen it. Perhaps, I might have to miss that spectacle and leave my fellow sailor to find his way across the sea. One thing I know fellow sailor man, though you don't see the shore, it's definitely worth the wait.

Sankara Mankranthi (Ask BHL)

Telling off people isn't easy. Especially when they are in a group where they're not supposed to be. IF you're able to sense that you don't belong there at that moment, and slightly strain your brains, you could avoid much humiliation, maintain self esteem, mind your very own important business, etc.

So my brothers (Cool quote:"You're my brother of another mother" - Courtesy: Daffy) and this low profile guy walk to the kiosk at college, planning to go through the second round of discussions regarding songs and their selection, for the Music competition. Suddenly, i hear a row of "Uh-oh"s and "Faster, faster"s, being mumbled.
Too late.
"Hi................................................!!!!"
Wonder what those frogs think when they gulp down 5 feet snakes with much difficulty. Surely they must think in between, "Man this is more than a mouthful; but there's now way out now". So they carry on. So did we.

The further walk made me feel that I was doing the green mile, or even worse was being sent out of the library for talking. She stuck around. We wondered how to tell her off. Politely. But assertively. She wasn't meant to be there. She should have realised that! Acting like Willy Lowman (from the play 'Death of a Salesman'), she thought that she was meant to be there and was an integral part of what was happening.
At the kiosk table, I signalled the brother and Frankfinn. They signalled me.

4:15 pm.

The meeting was supposed to start at 4:05.
No more waiting. "Shall I?" I asked in code language Mal. They sang back their enthusiastic approval in the the same universal code.
"Uh..Sankranthi, do you mind? We're having a band meeting. See you on Tuesday, yeah?"
Seemed like she'd heard the loudest thunder bolt in all her life. Didn't mean it to be that way. But it was important and had to be done.
"Ok........................!!!!!!See ya!!! bye!!!"
There she goes, there she goes again.

We celebrated as if it were Holi. My hand was shaken and the boldness appreciated, by the bros and the finn.
Sorry Sankranthi, we just had to.

We spend. So what's wrong?

Our neighbours, next door...what a life! Made me think.

Imagine you're all so grown up with a family and all. You aren't too well off, financially. You've got a kid whose school fees reaches somewhere near half your salary. What will you do when something like a school trip or a requirement examination fees come up? Waht do you feel then? Would you like to go ask your friendfor money or would you think, thoug I'm so old, I can't even run my family's expenses! What's my wife going to think about all this? Will she wonder whther she made a mistake by marring you? What 'll your kids think? Will you think of yourself as incapable of running a family?

Today we spend lavishly on our parents money. We believe they are earning it all for us, and spend as if we earned up all that money. New clothes every month, compulsive shopping, eating out many times, 3-4 movies a month. We spend without shame.

When we are our parents age, would we want our children to live that way? Think for a moment.

*****

Now. What do we know about not having any money in hand?

Nothing.

Because, there was never a time we couldn't find less than 10 bucks in our wallets for more than 24 hours. Do we know what it is like, when on the 10th of the month, you'll have to live on 100 Rupees for the rest? The 'Computer Fundamentals' book for IVth sem costs over 100 rupees.

Lilly Aunty is crying. She doesn't know what to do. Her daughter scores well in her exams. She wants to go for science in College. But where is she going to get Rs. 15,000 from? Her husband is in uwait, but doesn;t earn enough money to send home (And people go: He's in Kuwait and I'm not gonna help 'em). The youngest daughter needs to but a new uniform, as she's entering the 5th std. in June and needs to replace her 2 year old uniform. Where is all the money coming from?

Lilly Aunty, our neighbour, is crying.

She isn't all that poor or below poverty line (BPL). But htey have expenses to meet their requirements for a life in a place like this. she came from a family which had just the basic things.Where is she going to go for money. She runs a mess just outside her house where IT and BPO employees who stay near by come and eat from. The income goes, as it is for the house rent which is Rs.2500 for such a dingy place.

Will she have to tell her daughter, heart broken, that they don't have enough oney to send her for further studies, so sit at home? Even if she borrows money, how will she pay back? the girl (daughter) can't even imagine buying new clothes from commercial street once in a year, let alone the half price sale once a year. 30 rupees for a coffee seems insane to her mother- no question of going out with friends. TV. What TV? No money to pay the cable network.

Is it possible to live like that? Of course it is.

But in a society where you look around and see everyone showing off one thing or the other; the same 3-4 years old dresses which your friends make fun of you about?...It's difficult. You're the only one out. It's tough.

Perhaps friends, we need to be more considerate.Everyone is not as fortunate as us. When we spend money, let's just give it a thought. Do I really need what I'm buying? Does it give me any satisfaction? Are these these the things that make me happy? Is my happiness based on what I possess?

***

(Lilly -name changed- stays next door to us)

***

Harshly critical and straight-from-the-heart comment/ difference of opinions solicitted from all. Please respond with your thoughts on spending.

I'd Specially like to hear from Antares on the web, Blueplush and Romali Roti.

Have I?

Tired. Very tired.

Today...how many 'todays' have gone by! Is there any development happening?
Have I made anyone happy today?
Have I smiled at someone today?
Did I keep my word today?
Did I come on time today?
Were I able to carry out all my responsibilities today?
Phew!

I'm tired again.

We know what you did when you didn't have a platform ticket - Part 2

If you haven't read Part 1, please read that and if you haven't slept by then, come back and read this.

* * * * * * * *

In amazement, we saw the train on the adjacent platform moving.

Railway full joking joking in the night also.

We continued. Now you are bored, I am bored.

We had a exchanged our byes, best of lucks, happy journeys, half an hour before. Still, we persisted to stay on till the train left.

* * * * * * * * * * *

11:50 pm. After sirens on every platform but ours, thhe train slowly started moving. another round of byes and all the pleasantries, to our dear friend accompanied by his students, one by one, Ragu, Bhupati, the Russian and I jumped in cinematic style to the platform, as the train gathered pace. A grandma sitting on the platform gave a look with her a jaws parting to either side, seemingly saying "Freakin' Devil! What on all earth were those?"

We didn't pay attention.

Up the Sabarimalai style stairs and on the way to 'Destination: Outside the station'. I just casually mentioned that we hadn't taken platform tickets and slipped into conversations of societal development, economic policy, a better India, misgivings in the education system, philosophy, globalisation, ticket examiners,......Did I say ticket examiners?? Even before we could say that, a white shirt and a black suit, with a man in them appeared before us with hands wide open saying the words 'platform ticket'.

Now.

The platform number written in red.

Not being able send messages from the 3310.

The train getting late.

It was midnight.

To Thomas Hardy, it would have been a perfect setting for a targedy to happen and so it was for me too. The tragedy already happened, as the "external forces" had indicated. "Tess of the D'urbervilles" (Hardy's character in th book of the same name), was alone to suffer everything. I had company.

We stood there.

* * * * * * * * *

Ten minutes later, we were still standing there.

* * * * * * * * *

FINALLY, twenty minutes later............................., we still stood there.

(continued in Part 3)

We know what you did when you didn't have a platform ticket - Part 1

A lovely night. Beautiful beyond cliches. It was time to say bye to our dear teacher and friend, Mr. Andy Neck, one of the people because of which our exchange programme rocked.

The train's at 11:30.

We were there at 10:15

Hundreds of people were already there at..... God knows what time.

Anders and I checked the capricious electronic board for the right platform. It showed 4 against Guwahati express, in crimson red. The sign of danger. I should have realised that.

Platform ticket? Bhupati would come and buy it, I thought. Anyways its night time.

The fatal flaw.

********

Bhupati, with an appreciable build and the air of a builder (body) was standing with the other guys , guarding the luggage and engaging the peace loving Norwegian students. As soon as we got back- the luggage seemed to have got heavier- we picked up the bags and began climbing the stairs of 'Majestic' railway station, which was obviously in a drastic condition and reminded me of a friend's description of the "18 steps" in Sabarimalai. These steps, really, are not meant for young men above 60 carrying heavy bags.

********

It was nice to sit an talk in the train for an hour. Laughter in English and Norwegian echoed in our little compartment. "The Russian", kept blinking like an alien hearing Malayalam on planet Zonga. Suddenly,the train began moving!

And then it stopped.

Perhaps, they were checking the disc brakes.

(Do they have them, anyway?)

We fell on our backs into conversation. Ragu stood there looking into oblivion as if seeing something, which only he could. There wasn't anything there. I checked, twice.

A siren whined, gradually reaching 1-60km in just 2.5 seconds. The Russian stared at me and I stared back. We were in the middle of the crowded carriage. "This is it", we chorused and turned to jump out of the carriage when , to our amazement......!

(Continued in part II)

The 3310 (end of story)

Took it because , there were the needs. It's fine so far. I miss telling people "No, I don't have a mobile". Surprisingly, there have been a lot of plus points! Friends whom I thought that I wouldn't keep in touch often because i had a to keep calling them, are now just a few buttons away. Literally on my finger tip. Cool. In the beginning, you expect a call every minute, just because the phone is yours. Slowly, you begin to realise that call's are almost just as much as it would be on the landline, only that you know its for you. Honestly, I feel uncomfortable telling people "I have a phone" or even being caught talking on the phone somewhere. Don't know. May be because I'm not used to it. Personally, it feels very childish to talk about all this. Sometimes I re-read the previous entry and realise, perhaps I aren't all that mature as I thought to be. But change comes with life, doesn't it? Something that Mr. Pinto said in the English Literature class today struck me : "It's beaurocrats who desist change". Questions regarding whether I should care two hoods about his opinion is another totally different discussion. Let's see. I'm experimenting with life. It'll go on till the validity of this recharge gets over.

mobile: y/n?

A free phone.
(Thanks to Cherry's faithful ol' 3310)
A free sim card.
(Thanks to Sanjay switching over to Hutch)
Turning into the zillionth mobile phone user in India: y/n?
Do I need one? Friends say yes. Parents say think. I say no.
It's useful when you're in-charge of something, or organising something.

Do I need one at the moment?
No, the phone in the PG's enough. I love it when they call out "____, phone for you". When you have a mobile, you know the call is always for you; there's no suspense.

Am I anti-mobile?
How can I be! Even I'm dependent on it. Don't know where the Acappella team would have landed withouth Phani's 9886621480; the journalism Dept. fest organised by our class - In Print
- without Sawadees take- the-phone-for-the-day- and -you-better-pay-me-later offer, and various such instances.

So am I going mobile in Jan?
(Think, man, think...Use the yorr caamon senses)

It's amazing what we can accomplish
when you don't care who gets the
credit.

Blessed Eve.

What a blessed evening it was! God used the Life4orce band to minister all the glory and praise due to the almighty. Unlike last time, I was able to involve myself and worship.

This is how the arrangement was :
Vinay (Worship leader & Bass)
Binny (Acoustic Guitar)
Cherian (Guitar)
George (Drums).

The songs were around 12 starting from Life4orce original " Jesus and me" to ending with a bash with "You have turned...". the sounds system was a amazing. Good supervising Vinay!

Cherry spoke from the word of God too, based on John chapter 15:4,5 - "Bearing Fruit". It was a nice way of informally, at same time maintaining the seriousness, preaching. The sermon was loaded with stories and real life experiences. He played some amazing solos in between the songs along with singing parts. His face brightened up when the fast songs came.

Vinay once again led a blessed praise and worship, and this time, he spent a considerable amount of time getting the crowd to feel part of the whole thing and to keep them on their feet. He made them turn around and wave hands , especially in "You have turned my mourning into Dancing". He was able to bring them back to the solemness of worshipping God in the later part of the worship as well.

Binny, stood as a true "Band Architect" (his post in the band!) and I felt he had stepped back a little , which balanced the whole team . Though a great worship leader himself, he humbly stood by managing the the guitar and singing important parts, you need lots of humility for that . 'Praise and worship's led by him couple of years ago were my first experiences in being part of it and played a part in bringing me closer to the almighty.

Vinay had a surprise for me on Saturday evening when we met for practice : An electronic rhythm pad instead of the Acoustic Drum kit we had planned for. He said that the the guy at the rentals said that his wife had lent it to someone without his knowledge ! Sounded like a hilarious reason. Trusted in God and gave it a try. Haven't used it on a stage before. It sounded good (they say, except or the missing beats due to a "beaten up " Roland SPD11 ). The other one would've been better but looked like God wanted us to try this one out. We tried the next afternoon to get hold of one but His plans were different. Anyways, it was a blessed pleasant evening. Praise to the heavens,yeah?

Guys (my life4orce bandmates and good friends), it was wonderful. I enjoyed it and hope to do many more. When do we start working on our songs? I'd like to start learning the Life4orce songs and their instrumentation. An album in 2005 is a desire, Insha Allah. Pray and WORK HARD towards it , yeah?
JESUS INSPIRES.

On the other side of the encourager.

It's a different story when you go through an experience which you saw you friend going through. It's altogether a life changing moment.
When your friend is in trouble, surely,you feel the pain. Not the way, they feel it, but just a part of it. It's important to feel it, if you are a true friend. What do we do then? We offer all the encouragement and support we can. Shower them with promising words and great quotes. When you finally see them smiling, you feel great - you could bring a smile on their face.

But when you go through it? Yikes! All hell has broken loose, there's no redemption anymore, it's the end of the world, or even my life... how do I move on?.....etc, etc. Isn't it? That's when you find your friends going, "O come on, things will go away, don't be sad (What????), we all go through this (thanks a lot!), We are there (where ?).... " (Just the thing you'd been doing). Now, you wish they weren't showering all those positive thoughts on you. All you would want to, is sit by your friend. Pour your heart out, and expect the friend (that true friend), to listen. Just listen. It might be boring. But listen. Well, aren't I being selfish here? That's my point. I am. Being on the side of problems, is a different story. It's easy to sit and just make yourself feel good by encouraging that person. But that need not be exactly what your friend wants, though you might feel good doing so.

So when we go through a problem ourselves, we get to understand how the other person feels, deep inside. We learn how to react, how to sit quiet and how to just be there. It is a very humbling experience. Very humbling. You come face to face with the 'you' which you didn't know about might get surprised and feel ashamed. But it changes you . And changes you for the better.

Life's troubles are welcome learning experiences, minus the tuition fees. How am I taking it?

What's been happening in my room...

Well, it couldn't been anything boring as this.

It's never worth to wait for the exams. I learnt that we should move on with life and do the things that you have to do and sit and study. Friendsin class think I've been studying. I wish I was. It didn't take more than 2 seconds for mind to wander off to _______ while I had fat notes on "Infancy" (Psy) in front of me.

By the way, it feels good to sit there with all those notes in front of you even if you aren't actually even turnin' a page. Thank God for the power cuts. That's when I realise that TV's dont work without electricity and a book would land in my hand. I'd discover chapters which we never came across and read them and discover how interesting they would be when taught perhaps in the next semester.

I've also discovered the medicinal and Psychological positive effects of an afternoon nap after having a simple lunch watching TV. Hats off to you guys, who've been staying in hostels and Peejees and still scored above seventy percent and stuff. Wonder how you did that. From today on, I'll become a new person - punctual, responsible, respectable, up to the mark. Now I wonder how many times I took this decision this week.....Was it 6 or 7?

Serving means thinking about others' needs
and serving at their level.

Nearing.

Nearing the end of today...

Nearing the dark night - not tired. The next day is not awaited , but that may be the only way to sooth the sores: sores which were caused by the end of today. Today was great; almost every minute of it. Few minutes were boring, many minutes were of learning.The time past has opened my eyes, I should say. Tomorrow will be a new day, a day which will go a different way. the reason is that today, I started thinking, realising, breaking the mold and wiped the blurred glass and looked through the clean one. The glass isn't clear yet: it will be soon, I'm still at it. The end of the day is always the most enjoyable and unforgettable part. Thinking about tomorrow at that time will be depressive.

Bad Surprise

Told couple of my friends that I've been revamping the blog. True, that's what's been happening. But never got to fill it with anything interesting. Well, it doesn't quite matter.

A' like it without them Disclaimers.

Things are slowly coming up. The first one I had is still there and it's a lot of fun with it. Xanga is smashing. Lots more facilities over there. If any of you guys don't want links to your blogs from here, just say a word and it shalt be removed (no hard feelings).

Peace.
(That signing out style remind me of a clever chap who signed off a letter saying "In Harmonium". When the enquiries reached the bloke he asked, it seems, " Then what's the noun form of harmony, mate?")

Yo peoples,
Have a look at the chatterbox thing at the left bottom corner.

"Why doncha say somethin' ba-ffor ya leave?"

Savner dae

Miss you. I know I shouldn't, for the sake of tomorrow, for your good and mi good ; but can't help it. For everything you've done, for all the patience, for understanding.Tussen takk.

Du e min lille sol strolle

Elsker deg.

Ja-ki-Jaan?

You can't be from this universe. How do you do that?

Mr. Chan smiles even when his arms are broken after jump from a ten story building. Guess what he's upto?

Preparing for a re-take of that shot.

Paul McCartney
Former Beatles member.

Yo, he's the bassist,man.













www.paulmccartney.com

the image that shocked yo

Boy, that was an awesome festival . Bass, managing two groups, other commitments, relationships. Mapa were extra cool about it. God's blessed yo. It passed by, just like any other time in life. So life needs some tidying up, planning and execution. Let's see. Socks all pulled up alright.

Thanks,Norway.

Norway, you were good. Keep up the standards and get a bit organised, when it comes to students and their rooms. Had a great time here. SAd to say good bye. But the world's round Isn't it, mate?

Takk for alt Kjare venner. Daakker var superkult ogsaa! See da!
God Bless.

Lenny LeBlanc - Bringing us closer to the Lord.

Lenny's songs have touched millions. God Bless ya, buddy. He must be happy.

http://www.lennyleblanc.com/bio/index.htm