Within the curtains of the room, lies my mind.

Rain? Where? Yet to reach here. After the afternoon nap feeling weird. I'm
emotional. Switched off the cell for some time and went for a walk to the
main road. Deviated mind for some time. Trying yet again, reading
'Fly away Peter'. It made me forget the dry heat of my room and pulled me
into another set of emotions which kept changing with the chapters. Finally,the pages ran outof letters. And I sit still. Slowly fading into the real world, but into a different mindset, the meanng of which I am still trying to understand.

AUTOMONEY

a u t o m o n e y

for those who did not say much

Welcome to the the e - magazine which failed being pulished as a magazine-in-print, in one of the Colleges in this world. An attempt at raising concerns, in a strong but light hearted manner.

If you have anything to say, do comment or mail in the address given below. If we see that there's a little 'less' embarrassing response, then, we would love to continue its publication online. Don't embarrass me! Send 'em in. Good luck and happy reading. Do comment on the posts and spread the word around.

Warm regards,
Editor.

READ DOWNWARDS.

All entries with the label 'automoney: the e-magazine' are part of the same. The easiest way to find all the articles together is to press on the label link below, instead of searching around.

All the best.

Editorially challenged

Editorially challenged

We all need autonomy- sorry- automoney. This is because we need to depend on autos at some point of time in life. By paying money for the auto-ride(i.e. automoney), we achieve mobility in life and are able to reach our destination, quite quickly.
Automoney is an ordinary man’s life-saver. When one wants to reach somewhere and is already late, this money comes in handy to get you to the place you want to, on time. It is the common man’s refuge when the distance is short.

Although the money you pay for your travel is fixed, often they vary from auto to auto and driver to driver. Automoney is different things to different people. What it can symbolise or mean to a diverse student population like ours is beyond imagination.
For example, enough autonomy automoney can help the driver add sophisticated devices to his vehicle so that his vehicle is looked up to by other auto-drivers as The auto having achieved a particular standard, so to speak. With automoney, he can install a flat screen TV for entertainment, hidden cameras in all corners for security reasons and even special speakers to listen to Radio Rag-Thug broadcasts. A patient wait can enable him to buy yet another auto and expand his services.
Automoney also signifies power. Because of it we find, at times, auto-drivers more powerful and dominating than we expect. In times as those, when we have no other go but succumb to take an auto instead of public transport, they demand more money, leaving only the identity cards in our wallets and purses. After 9:30 pm, they demand higher rates, without the least compassion towards our money bags. Poor layman is forced to pay, as he would have to get somewhere, urgently. What a pity!
All auto-drivers are not that greedy and fierce. Some are kind. For this kind, it is not just the auto money that matters, but whether he/she was able to get the passenger safely to his/her destination, without inconveniences. At times, he might even begin a jolly little chat ending up cementing a friendship with the passenger. Such drivers are unforgettable.
Finally, we should always remember that the power is not always with the auto-driver alone. The passenger has a voice. The more the passengers, the louder the voice. Automoney is meant to amplify the voices of the students and help each other reach their destinations through co-operation and giving each other company, as the journey could be rough. It is about using the automoney you have and making the best use of it. It is certainly not an easy task, but definitely possible. Join us for an autoride.

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.”

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* 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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Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative vehicles.
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.

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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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