Pedestrian Pondering

Fuzzy days

2012-02-10T12:11:00.007+05:30

I thought this blog was as good as dead. But then something came up. Something which was at the back of my mind for a while.

How we have strong notions about certain things?
How these whims diminish/transform over time?
Why is the cliche "Change is the only constant", one of the best truisms?
Here goes:

My naïve obsession with that cup of 'chai',
Let me reveal today, it’s just about to die.
I know for sure that this admission is risky,
The chai cup has been replaced by Scotch whisky.

That simplistic joy of a 'local train' ride,
Is not enough anymore, I have to confide.
Happiness has a new dimension my man,
As I breeze on the freeway in my sleek sedan.

Those mountain treks & that sweet earthy song,
All that is passé, fun is in night clubs and beer pong.
The roadside 'vada pavs' & chilies that make you cry.
Not for me these days, I just stick to bland 'stir-fry'.

The Hindu and The Express now fade away,
CNN/FOX are the ones that make my day.
Do I care a hoot if it is the UPA or the NDA?
What matters to me is the Romney-Obama fray.

Test match whitewash, cricket down the rabbit hole,
As me what I feel, I just tune in to the Superbowl.
I smile sometimes, when I look back upon the past,
How was I back then, what an amazing contrast!

Time where art thou?

2009-07-24T19:18:00.009+05:30

I did not plan this as a blogpost (But I decided to turn it into one). Recently, I had a discussion with a few friends as to how each one of us plans his/ her blogposts. I was convinced by what one of them said. Sometimes spontaneity should win over planned perfection. Hence no formatting (well minimal formatting - to be honest!!). No write ups prior to posting. My first attempt at an impulsive post.

The pace at which the last few days went by - I'll have to say, "Time where art thou?" But in spite of all this haste, I spent some quality TIME with friends. (Names listed in a random order !!!)

Sunil: My original ‘chaddi buddy’. Came from Baroda for 4-5 days. Had ‘chicken dinner’ at his place as usual (the guy does not even touch chicken but he knows my love for the thing!!). Bartered some books with him (something we have been doing since 5 years now). Saw him off on a train to Baroda at Pune station. Had no time for our usual outings. Tried to pack as much conversation as possible in the 2 meets we had. Was the first in the list of close friends whom I bid adieu.

Sourabh: The second ‘chaddi buddy’. Yet to meet him. Just back from the South Korean odyssey. Has promised he’ll come over this weekend.

Sanju: Stayed back in Pune for one more day (23rd May to be precise) in order to meet me. (He left on 12:15 am 24th May !!!). But we enjoyed a lot.

Minakshi: Was in Pune for very short duration and had to do lots of things in the small time span. Yet we managed to squeeze in a 4 hour talk session at the BC.

Sayali: This busy, busy girl is always BUSY. Dunno when I should meet her. She has promised that we will meet once. From what I know of her, she will keep her promise. (Plz don’t disappoint me !!!)

Suyog: Could not come with us for the trek. But met me the next day. Went to the temple with him. Did not have enough time to engage in some serious talk – like we usually do.

My friends at Hyd (especially Shriek and Naidu): Came all the way from Hyd for a trek to Lonavala. Met them at the station – for about an hour (Each one of them was happy that I got away from Schhyd ;)). Shriek got emotional as always (Naidu was uber cool as always!!).

My friends at the Debating Club:

Shaizeen: Met her once at the BC. Got to know that she’ll be apping soon. Told her to aim for the Ivy League.

Swati: Perhaps the only person to whom I’ll say, “Sorry I will not be able to meet you.” Really sorry.

Mak: We already met thrice (Pune , Nashik and Purandar). Every single time we resumed our senseless (to others !!) discussions with the same enthu. Visited his room at the hallowed IIT, Bombay campus. Let me tell u the guy is an epitome of perfection and orderliness (I am dead serious out here). Survived the ‘honeymania’ along with me and Saurabh.

AJ: Met me twice in Mumbai. Went to his place. Took me to some place where ‘the bade log’ watch films. Saw the super crap "Kambakht Ishq". Cursed ourselves for spending 200 bucks for such bull. Camped in his house for the night. Talked for 3 hours nonstop. (12:30 to 3:30 am). Slept at 4 in the morning. Woke up at 6. He made some amazing chai as always. The day was screwed (especially for him) due to sleep deficiency. But who the hell cares.

Ballu: Met him at AJ's place. Conversed for about 45 minutes. Long talk by his standards.

Big B: Met him about 5-6 times after coming to Pune. Hosted the amazing Nashik trip . Was here this weekend as well. Had a cutting chai with him as always. Had one last run to Shivajinagar station together. Caught the local just in time. 3 year track record intact (of catching every local we've ever run for). Will see him again on the coming weekend. His way of making amends for not being able to see me off on 2nd Aug.

Rujuta: Met her twice in Mumbai (with AJ of course). Brought a box of sheera once. Well made - pan AJ chya hatachi chav nahi. Thanks a lot for it though. Took me and AJ to CCD. Ordered something exotic (Still don’t know what it was – some strange fusion of chocolate, ice cream, cake and God knows what else – tasted out of this world though – lady the last sentence is a complement. Trust me.) Came to Pune specially to meet me.

and finally.............

Saurabh: Met him countless times. Every single time I called out, he was there. Showed what he can do for his friends when he came all the way from Parvati to my place (just a day b4 he was going to Powai). Took me to Powai along with him. Played 'big brother' really well after my mom asked him to 'take care' of me. Was the first person who said he’ll come to see me off.

The morale: If you desire to meet your friends (and the desire is strong both ways) you'll make the most of all the TIME you have.

What do I do?

2009-05-29T14:58:00.018+05:30

I have a number of grouses.
People with scant respect for the rules.
People who drive as if they own the road.
People spitting shamelessly on roads.
These and many other things drive me mad.
But what do I do about it?

I know for sure, that I can never lead.
Yes I belong to this strange breed.
Who think a lot, never show their might.
I don’t have it me to stand up and fight.

I scorn at the idiots, who break the queue.
I heap silent curses on such arrogant few.
I can’t bring myself to say, “How dare you?”
I look the other way, that’s all I do.

I detest them the most, those filthy spit-men.
Needless to say, I never try and stop them.
They go on with their business merrily
I just evade the next missile warily.

A big shot somebody almost rams his Hummer.
I happen to be lucky and escape by a whisker.
I wish I could smash the windshield of this sucker.
He abuses me instead, for slowing him down.
Ask me what I do, I just frown.

I see people around me, deprived of education.
Whoever said knowledge is the backbone of the nation.
Will I teach a hapless child, to assuage the plight?
Why should I? That’s not my job, right?

I decide for once, tired of crib and complain.
Staying in this place, I have nothing to gain.
The country is just not up to the mark.
Plagued by a million problems, grappling in the dark.

Everything out here is in a murky state.
I want to be away from this ominous fate.
Someone asks me, do I ever vote?
"I am flying overseas." I say and gloat.

Future perfect?

2008-03-15T22:24:00.004+05:30

I hopped onto a time machine and met myself some years down the line.
Having finished with my college, I was working with a multinational company.
These are the thoughts of the ‘future me’:

I was ecstatic, when an MNC chose me.
‘Life is so wonderful’, I thought with glee.
Fast cash and foreign tours now abound.
Such a utopia, I would have seldom found.
After a few days at work, I had to acknowledge
That I sorely missed my exciting days at college.

My superiors prefer me with a clean shaven face.
They say it equips me with the right amount of grace.
In college, I used to shave once in a week.
The unkempt stubble, was the mark of this geek.
Now I shave everyday, to suit the boss’s eye.
Through soap and lather, the nerdy look bids goodbye.

In formal clothes, I handle the workload.
The attire is dull, but this is the dress code.
Full shirts, full pants and the boring neck tie.
This obsession with 'the look', I don’t know why.
Business etiquette must be followed, they say.
So my ‘Tantra’ tees never see light of the day.

My funky sportswatch, I hardly wear it now.
The leather strapped ‘Titan’, is supposed to be wow.
I don black leather shoes with polish and glitter.
Sportshoes are so flashy, wearing them evokes a titter.
College was different, I wore whatever I used to like.
Those who detested my style, I told them to take a hike.

A complete foodie, spicy vada pavs I used to munch.
God spare me the agony of bland executive lunch.
I cannot befriend champagne, no matter how hard I try.
What suits me the best, is a cup of hot cutting chai.
I recount my days at the boat club and the café house.
I am now perpetually stuck, in life’s game of cat and mouse.

I cannot go back to my college days, though I wish I could.
Instead I must brace myself for the challenges of adulthood.

Lohagad - Yet another time

2007-12-25T20:25:00.000+05:30

Yes I was going to Lohagad yet another time. The plan was made at the eleventh hour as usual. When I informed my parents, they refused to show any expression. I looked upon this as their way of agreeing passively. As such they had given up all hope that I would ever heed their advice. So the situation was not so bad at the domestic front.

It was going to be my sixth trip to the immensely beautiful place in the year 2007. However this time it was not the same. We were a group of eleven people (seven boys and four girls), some of whom were on their first trekking expedition. I was going to go out with some of these people for the first time. Will I be able to get along with these people? The question was bogging me. So I did look forward to the trip, but with a subdued excitement.

Before I begin my travelogue (if you are gracious enough to call it one!), let me acquaint the readers with some facts about Lohagad. This fort lies close to the famous hill station Lonavla in Maharashtra. It essentially separates the basins of rivers Pavana and Indrayani. Almost every important dynasty in this region has had this fort under its control at some point in time. Shivaji Maharaj assimilated Lohagad in the Hindavi Swarajya in the year 1647 AD. It is believed that Lohagad was used as the treasury of the Swarajya and a good chunk of the treasure has been concealed somewhere in the premises of the fort. This fort is usually the first expedition for unfledged trekkers, because of the ease with which it can be scaled.

21st of December was the date we had decided for the conquest of Lohagad. Nine out of eleven people were supposed to board the local train at Shivajinagar railway station. Two of us would be getting in at Chinchwad. I got up early in the morning. The train was scheduled to arrive at 8.27 am at Chinchwad. I reached the station at 8.00 am sharp. “Before time – as usual!”, I thought to myself. I got into the ever overcrowded local and with the help of all my expertise of traveling in a local train for four years, soon found a place to sit. To my surprise my friends who were supposed to get in at Shivajinagar, were in the same compartment. However due to the heavy rush in the train, I was not able to reach out to them. All in all, the journey till Malavli station was uneventful.

As we alighted at Malavli station and got together on the platform, I happened to notice something. We had the most interesting gang. There was Abhijit – the Big B, our bulwark in case of any accident or untoward incident. Then there was I, the eternal troublemaker. With me I had Ajay. We were like soul brothers as both of us liked to laugh at anything which came our way. With the two of us around, there was contagious energy. There would never be an idle moment. Of course we had Saurabh, the HOD. He had the knack of cracking the funniest jokes and getting away with them. No one would ever doubt him with mischief mongers like me and Aju around. How could I forget Makarand and Suyog, the relatively decent guys amongst us thugs. Then there was Anand, fondly called the Rajnikanth of COEP. Amongst the girls we had Rujuta, a certified tomboy and my nemesis. With her there were Minakshi, Sayali and Puja, three novice trekkers with lots of apprehensions about the arduous trek and almost no hope in their hearts.

Our Gang:

Our crew began the journey towards Lohagad around 9.30am. There are three stages in which this trek is completed. The first of the three is a walk along a tar road to Bhaje village which is situated at the foothills of Lohagad. We needed to cross the Western Express Highway during this walk. We trudged along, admiring the engineering marvel, which the expressway was. As we neared Bhaje village, we could see that all the heavy traffic and the usual din of city life were conspicuous by their absence. We did have a fair share of giggles and laughs as we walked. We managed to reach Bhaje village at about 10.15am without much of a hassle.

The second stage of our trek was the climb from Bhaje village till the stairs of Lohagad. It was an uphill task (yes literally as well as actually!). There were two ways to reach the top. One was the conventional, safe and sound but long way. The other way (if I can call it one!) was a series of serpentine tracks which cut across the bushes and rocks and helped you reach faster. Of course, a minor bruise (or even a broken bone!) would be your retribution if you were not sure footed. Seasoned trekkers in our gang were adamant upon taking the difficult track. The novices were helpless and had to agree.

We took on the crooked tracks with full excitement. Ajay and I started singing a few songs just to liven up the mood. The girls complained about our super hoarse voices. We continued, as we cared a hoot anyways. Gradually everyone got on singing. It was a classic case of ‘if you can’t stop them, then join them’. The newbies started falling behind. They were not used this kind of excessive physical strain. I had a sense of déjà vu as I recollected how six years ago I was a plump kid and could not keep up with the sturdier lot. Big B was leading the way as usual. Some of us were helping Sayali and Puja. Anand was helping Minakshi (hmmm!). But the surprise package was Rujuta. We were amazed by her agility and the way she kept up with us.

Somewhere in between we lost the way. Now this was for the umpteenth time, that I was visiting Lohagad. But then that was the beauty of the place. You could visit it everyday and yet get lost in its pristine grandeur. Big B, Saurabh and Suyog tried to look for some alternate paths. In the meanwhile our lot clicked pictures. Eventually due to the efforts of the aforementioned trio, we did find a way.

Finally, braving all the dense trees, rocks and thorny shrubs, we were on our way to the stairs. It was then that someone suggested (either Anand or Rujuta – I don’t remember exactly), that we were victorious in our conquest of the meandering tracks and this called for some celebration. And celebrate we did! An Adivasi style dance, to the tunes of an amazing song sung by Sayali and a tall glass of sherbet was our idea of revelry.

We reached the stairs and began scaling them. They did prove exhausting and the scorching heat of the sun did not make our ascent easier. But somehow we survived. While climbing up the stairs, we did have a sneak peak at the surrounding beauty. An occasional cold gust of wind surely soothed us. We reached the top but there was hardly any jubilation. Each one of us was hungry.

At the top, there was a natural reservoir of water. The water was icy cool and it felt great to wash your hands and face with it. Less hygiene conscious people amongst us had no qualms in drinking the water as well. We found a place where we could eat. And boy did we have a feast!

Kachoris, idlis, sandwiches and of course poli bhaji satiated our appetite. We gave a round of applause to Ajay for making some sumptuous batata bhaji all by himself. People tend to get lazy after such lavish lunches. We had no time for such things. The most important part was yet to come.

The extreme end of Lohagad is shaped like a scorpion sting. For this reason it is called as ‘Vinchu Kata’. To reach this end we needed to traverse some rough terrain. Big B led the novices through an easy way. I, the Lohagad veteran, lead the more adventurous group through the difficult way.

The newbies reached first and watched with disgust as we put our bones and muscles to peril. But all of us managed to get through and fortunately everything went fine.

We were at the extreme end, totally cut off from civilization (and any probable source of help!). The view was breathtaking. The mountains shone in their pristine glory. The sun decided to play truant. We had cold winds blowing. The tranquility was something to be cherished. We could actually hear the voices of people shouting far away in the village. All of us decided to shut up for a while and enjoy the serenity which we would never experience back home.

After basking for an hour in this beautiful atmosphere, we began the return journey. The descent was easier compared to the ascent. We hopped down the stairs, only to be stopped by monkeys. They wanted something to eat. We hadn’t got any food with us. Who would make these creatures understand? We decided to run for it and soon those less brainy ancestors of us were left far behind. We explained the newbies, that it was easier to run down a slope with crooked legs. By doing so they would be able to control themselves better (our engineering knowledge did serve some purpose after all!). Anand was busy explaining the same thing to Minakshi (another hmmm!).

We were able to reach Malavli station at about 6 pm. We had a round of chai and biscuits to overcome the physical fatigue (mentally we were as fresh as ever!). I think it was Sayali who suggested that we play 'dumb charades'. Everyone agreed and we surely had a blast. Rest of the people at the station gave us queer looks. We were oblivious to all of that. Finally the local arrived, a good fifteen minutes late. Our round of DC continued in the local and within no time, the train was at Chinchwad.

I got down. As I gathered my thoughts, I remembered something I had read. ‘Try to hang out with people whom you don’t know properly for at least one day. Prejudices are broken and firm friendships are fostered by doing so.’ I hope this happens in our case. As I neared home, I promised myself something. I would be back to Lohagad. The time would be different. The crew would or would not be the same.
But I would be back – YET ANOTHER TIME.

Something about my favorite teacher

2007-11-15T21:50:00.000+05:30

Traditionally Indians have reserved a place of highest respect for ‘Gurus’ or teachers. Reverence for one’s Guru was supposed to exceed the respect for one’s parents. Our great epics talk about pupils willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of their teacher.

Alas, today all of us are blissfully unaware of this great tradition. Visit any of the popular hangouts of students in college. You will see a few people making a mockery of their teachers and the rest of the lot will be rolling with laughter. I was not different from the rest of the students. I never really thought about the role our teachers are supposed to play in our lives. But all of this changed when sir came to teach us. I realized that teachers are not brainless creatures who are meant to be scoffed at. Rather they are supposed to be our mentors in this journey called life.

I remember sir’s first lecture very well. He walked into the class a good ten minutes late. This was quite different from the usual paragons of punctuality who were always there before time. We did not have those boring introductory sessions in which the teacher asks each student his or her name but never really remembers it for the next four years. Sir got straight to the point. What did he expect from us? His only concern was that we must be able to display an adequate level of knowledge in the exam. This he believed was the duty of every student. As long as we did this, nothing else mattered to him. Our attendance, our earlier academic records, our ‘impression’ upon him – he cared a hoot about all of this. This was a refreshing change for people like me who are always apprehensive about getting on the wrong side of the teacher. Also I heard the death knell ringing for all those sycophants who could no nothing else but butter the prof.

The best part was yet to come. But before going into the details of that let me give you a sneak peek into the life of an engineering student. When an engineer studies (Yes every engineer makes that attempt occasionally!), he has the option to read two kinds of books. There are reference books (read foreign author books) and text books (read local author books). The reference books are prescribed by the college for coursework. But any normal engineer worth his salt would never touch a foreign author book (swadeshi rules here too!). We prefer local author books replete with lots of solved problems to minimize the strain on our brain.

I was quite happy using the local author books and frankly I found nothing wrong in doing so. Once sir brought up this issue in class. He explained how the approach followed by the local author books was fallacious. “You know the question. You know the answer.” he said. “You follow a specific path to get to the answer. Why do you follow this path only? Because someone told you that it is correct. When your brain comes out of this self imposed stupor you will realize that you have gained nothing.” His words got me thinking. Why should we saunter on a path shown by somebody else when we are capable of making our own way? Also as engineers we may come across problems which do not have a single correct answer. In such situations our ‘cram for glory approach’ would definitely take a beating. In the subsequent days I tried to read the foreign author books. They were not really esoteric. You needed immense concentration while reading such books. Once you could muster this concentration the rest of it was fairly easy.

Sir’s style of correction of answer papers deserves a special mention. Each step in a particular problem and every single word in a definition were given weightage proportional to their importance. ‘When you deserve marks, you will get them from me. When you don’t, try getting them from me.’ This was his mantra. Again quite unconventional. I had seen teachers deduct marks because they were not in a good mood or because they did not like the ‘presentation’ of the answer (a downright terrible excuse I would say). Sir’s diligence during the assessment of papers was unparalleled.

An old saying goes like this, “If you want to judge a man’s character don’t look at how he treats his superiors or his equals. Just look at the way he treats his inferiors.” The best possible way to judge a teacher’s character would be to look at how he treats his students. Since my school days, I had seen teachers who looked upon students as though they were insects meant to be trampled upon. Sir was again markedly different. None of the students ever got a sarcastic remark from him regarding his or her academic abilities. You got the same treatment from him – regardless of whether you were a ‘class topper’ or a ‘lucky if I pass’ kind.

When you discussed something with him, it always seemed like a casual chat with an old friend. When you asked him a particularly difficult question, you did not hear the usual cliché, “I don’t know the answer now. I need to read it up.” Sir always made it a point to come up with a good answer. In case a student was not satisfied, he continually improvised the answer. Sir never really had to ‘read it up in the books’. This is what I believe, distinguishes a good teacher from a mere pedant.

In case the readers are baffled as to why my favorite teacher does not have a name? Let me tell you this. Since I know sir so well, I know he would not like me mentioning his name here. People like him have outgrown the need for any accolades or glorifications.

I will always be grateful to sir because he changed my attitude towards education. I realized that education was not just about getting good grades. You may excel in your college exams but then you have succeeded in framework established by someone else (the college authorities in this particular case). You have succeeded because you came with an intelligent answer. But in real life there may be a complete lack of any kind of established framework. Here it might be important to come up with intelligent questions first. The problems you face may be limitless. As an engineer it is your duty to come up with ingenious solutions. You must study with such an attitude. If you taste academic success in the process, it is just incidental.