“ Accha anita aap kitni satisfied hain ab “ , “ agar aapke paas kuch aise hee mazedaar pranks hoon toh hamein bhejein”, “ no rules, only masti”. I was told the advent of international players would raise the quality of content of television, instead I got a slew of operators fighting on the best A/V format, trying to explain the intricacies to people who consider VLC player to be a video format, or worse call an ‘engineer’ to install it. I was told our ‘culture’ would remain intact as the biggies would have to generate content tailored to our sensibilities, and then came the biggest bolt of them of all, as if the saas-bahu verbatim wasn’t enough for a generation that saw channel after channel disgorging extra-marital, super natural melodrama, here was the latest avatar, now a travesty could be made our of our lives and become a national spectacle. Nobody seems to mind, apparently schadenfreude is a money spinner, we now have a new genre of celebrities, their claim to fame is gloating about anything under the sun, their antics, their talent and their shelf life, well who cares.
The prime time ramblings of our “ news channels” was the limit of how abysmal the standards were, but this was a new low, the subterfuge was brilliant, expose the moral debauchery, purported at expunging any vices, they have only helped strengthen the misgivings in the already frayed relationships. And hence the question “what is wrong in showing, what is already commonplace?” Amen, so the next time a public figure is caught pants down, it wouldn’t hurt to inundate every inch of our imagination, the concomitant drama is then lambasted for being insensitive and invading, the average joe is not privileged, for he can be trampled over by this juggernaut, and complain is akin to being cloistered or worse being bulimic, I do not wish to harangue about the threat to Indian culture or anything. This is a question of simple question of value creation. The legacy waiting to be passed on, and which is sadly nothing more than mortification, senility, I remember how my grandparents would reminisce about their days, wonder what stories would I tell, ( I was ‘friend’with 200 people I never knew, I came on TV once my ex ensured our breakup was as loud as possible, I was the champion of the online game “ war of wizards” ) some legacy I guess, while the intellectual capital has ensured that we are counted, our social legacy is largely bankrupt, our scruples are fiddled with everyday, our principles are at best accommodating, our identity is defined by the tags on our appurtenances, our company by the places we frequent.
The larger question at hand is what are we making of ourselves. Are we mere puppets dancing to tunes played by agencies we so innocuously made a part of our lives, or worse, are we dim-wits who are plodding upon whatever is thrown at them? The domain of such agencies may not be limited just to the mass media, but mass media by default is the staple diet, so themes that explore how easy is to manipulate this media ( how so ever cliché they may sound) are still frightening, a nation that feeds on mindless crap, shall beget the same, the cornucopia of information, options is merely an eyewash, this may seem rhetoric, yet this remains the single biggest scourge of our times. While activists are dismissed as sore pessimists, it is largely true that our propensity to change is the reason why we have done well in the race to stay
Epitaph like, almost a part of my comatose existence. I wonder whether the position chose me or was it a convenient marriage of my dislike for this institution coupled with sleeping perks. But this veritable part of my existence, has had a profound impact on me, a front bencher all my school years, it was almost like an underworld, insidious, enchanting, waiting to be discovered, my naive, gullible and yet rebellious mind stated.
I was suddenly the elite, in this part of world, the back benchers were treated with Hendrix like obsequiousness , the place was a woodstock of LAN gamers, guys who wrapped up( or even continued) a mobile marathon, me. And yet sitting at the end, it is only predictable to sound wise, pass judgement, announce verdicts, and as a oil trader once swaggered " if i knew the prices of oil only a second before hand i'd be a billionaire". If only you knew where you were going. Steve Jobs at a speech talked at length about life, how the dots connect, but he was humble enough not to point out what went into making those dots connect, the toil that went in, and the bourgeois( ah! i finally used this degenerate word) awed at how Jobs fought death, gained fame. END OF STORY.
And there i lay, rooted at a place that bid goodbye to everything( including its goodness, and let us not even get started on senility).
It is so easy to be cynical, almost sadist pleasure one can derive by quelling hope, painting gloomy pictures, what is even more easier is to be a chicken hearted cynic wearing ideolofy on sleeve, but change, ah! change does not come through cynics, it comes from the corner of hearts of people who believe.....( and cynics dont believe)
The corner aint a goddamn heaven, it teaches you nothing, nor it is a shelter, it can only prepare you, prepare you for the destination you chose, the destination you discovered here.
And yes at the end, after making a ghost of myself and nothing clear in front of me, i look at my corner most seat, and it smiles and sings..." You'll Never Walk Alone".... Life I am coming......
PS: the above was taken from lecture notes of Distributed Systems 801, corner seat, class of CS 2010.....
And we keep driving into the night its a late goodbye
Cobain wafting in my room as it flows into my veins, killing me softly, wondering what it felt to die, to break away into some veritable abyss, how would it be to sit by wait to be consumed by the streams of venom inside, a part of my dystopian existence. How do i feel about it ? Ah! there aren't any crescendos here after which the truth sets in, nor are the nymphs reciting paeans about me, i wish i weren't a travesty but a slice of some thing tangible, not a mere glimmer merely a streak, so as i sit with the ashen myself, i still think of what i thought i would be my whole life.
No, i wish i were a pain in the ass, lachrymose, sullen, sick wierdo, or the incomprehensible, never getting to know the milieu, figuring out conformity in a swarm, looking for straight lines in circles, shapes in a void,i wish i was that odd book, i wish i was…… but it wasn’t meant to be, i was the trumpet on a funeral party, sax in rap, the glaring oddity, the one thing that made you jump, stop for second to figure out, or just mumble “even this was possible”, and for person who went at length to do this, i guess that was who i am or surely who i was……
Ah! i just begin to loose control, wonder how similar is life outside and venom inside, its a high in the beginning, a new rush within, rocking the shores inside, almost like the unforgiving waves crashing on the beach, and i make a spectacle of myself, people wait for blames when they read such loser tales, they wait for the sorry pathetic loser to fix responsibilities, they fear, they wonder, ………….they laugh, i wish i could blame someone or even myself, i heard tales every night from my grandmother, who thought she would never wake up the next morning, holding me close to her heart, as i slept, i just have this one last Monk, its almost funny when i think how the monk would meet the poison in my veins, and say, hey just let the jerk finish this one last bottle.
Now my legs are down and eyes puffy, and me figuring what went wrong, or i was i not prepared to take it, did this have to go down this way, its easy to quit life, yeah all it took were few google searches to find the right mix, but now i recall the last days, they were the same, the same old me, tumbling over, laughing my heads off at corner, jumping with the kids at the pavement, pinching my eyes at the sight of the girl at the coffee counter, yeah it was the same, friends, people, me,…. life. And yet i sit at the very end of it, what do i feel guilty about, wish it were some list of sorry tales but as non plussed as i am, i have none to offer, and to honest just sorry mom i didn’t see it coming, coz even i hadn't thought of it.
These are my last words and just as i read back what i wrote, i know now why i am going, what i am sorry for at this moment, i am sorry because it isn’t glitzy, or glossy as they show it when heroes go down, its not dramatic, despite my effort to make it, its not something i wanted it to end up like, its again what i ended up making out of my life, trying to be someone else, a piece of story for others to tell, a joke for someone else, a good boy for the neighbour hood aunty, a shit-bag for drink buddies, a figure for some to follow, and when they find me that's what they will talk again…. now that’s some way to die………….
……even as i go as a whimper……and i take my last try( to quote a memorable last words) Catch ya later
--DUNNO WHO I AM
( SORRY FOR RUINING YOUR " DUDE ITS A NEW YEAR" MOOD, IF I DID, ITS JUST THAT SOMEONE CLOSE TO ME WANTED TO WRITE THIS ONE)
What is the first thing you are told when you are set to register yourself on the rolls of that engineering college ,medical college or the dreaded Defence Academy, the parents wince and educators mince. The R word Hydra monster, its various manifestations, all the verbal rhetoric doing rounds, I thought few simple questions to ask the seers of law, logic, the luminaries who chose to chasten ( after having “fun” in their years ) the campuses.
The following shall remain sacrosanct :
1. The right to life
The term life not only includes upholding one’s right to live, sustain his dignity, integrity.
Also i must point out here we need to examine the spirit behind Ragging and not look at it incident wise.
To the honourable court i put forth the following points
A. The verdict handed out was a result of a criminal act, the honourable courts observed that the a felony had been committed with the a person imposing his whims on other based on a hierarchal arrangement and thus the status acquired. The courts rightly pointed out that this premise is skewed, and hence if students have the temerity to violate someone’s integrity then it needs to be addressed, so we go for a blanket ban, phew so if bureaucracy gives me powers to decide the fate of people in my district, i wonder whether supreme court would take cognizance of the fact that bureaucracy is causing suicides in Vidharbha, ban it as well my lord!
But its inefficiency at someone’s part!!!
Hell yes!! you don’t ban cars when someone mows down people on footpaths, or worse you dont even ban alchohol, when a drunk driver crushes urchins on roads. We dont ban arms when murders take place in our “civil” society. So if people choose to misuse powers invested ( say a bureaucrat) you don’t pull down the system.
B So does that means that Ragging as a institution is right, and some powers can be invested into college seniors, merely because they have an advantage of position and time.
This is a tough one( i spent most of my time on this, feedback needed on this point) The time invested in under graduate study varies from 3-5 yrs. After this individuals labeled as doctors, managers, engineers work in diverse fields where even human life may be entrusted upon them. Now considering by your point B: does the 4-5 semester exams give imbue in a person a sense of duty, responsibility?? gosh! why didn't they get this in schools they cleared 12 exams. Colleges were not meant to provide merely rote learning of another set of books, they are an institution that make an individual out of you, an individual ready to face all challenges of life, understand the vicissitudes of life, (yeah! this was before we allowed anyone with 10 crores in belly to open a college ) we have opened schools again, so when you are opening the wrong kinds of institutes, wrong things are bound to happen.
You are deviating from the point
Fine! People who are entrusted with lives of people are assumed to have certain conscience of their own which was certainly not in a high school product, this transformation needs more than upgradation of academic faculties of an individual, ragging is a mere abrasive meant to point out to a high school weirdo, that hey! college is not a fairly tale fella, come real joining college does not mean you have won the world or something, time to come real!
C: So its a moral duty! Bah! Humbug
I wish it were a moral duty, its a ritual sir, i admit with alas an intention to uphold what the education stands for.
D. and all this calling of lowering of eyes, what about that! making them wear formals what is that?
Sir with all due regards, i hope the shimmering black waistcoat, with the V shaped wing collar, the elaborate wig, and the statemtment of “My Lord!” is enough to soothe your appetite at your age, please allow your grandsons to have some fun as well. Why this clinging my lord!( i love it) or is your super sized stature immune to such vervbal rhetoric. Alas what gave you this stature, the society my lord! the same society that is still fraught with hierarchies, we just brought it in our colleges my lord, is that too much to ask for??
E: So what is the way out of the predicament?
Please leave it on the individual, let him experience it, tell him, that he has the right not to become a part of it, but only based on visceral observations, but deduce himself, the mark of a true individual and not a spoon fed kid! There is a need to of a regulation not a blanket ban, which mocks at the efficacy of our institutions to produce nation builders!!
I SUPPORT RAGGING IN INSTITUTIONS please sign below if you agree. Comments from both sides are invited.
I had to be succinct here! your are free to chat at length at my gmail id: mailcooltarang@gmail.com
Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.
- Andy Dufresne in Shawshank Redemption
November 9,1989-Somewhere In Palestine
The warden darted into the cell, bows knitted, beads of perspiration clearly visible, it was rather unusual for him to be there yet the onus of responsibility of this task the deportation of this inmate was no ordinary moment, for the watershed moment of the career sat there in a tattered camisole, offering prayer in cell number 18. The frail, pale looking prisoner, with sunken eyes was no ordinary catch, the Fuhrer of Germany had hailed this as the single most important moment since the victory of Third Reich in the Second World War. The Americans acquiesced to this development as an important step to “universal purging”. Sanguine crowds from Japan to Italy were gathering to mark this moment. what was supposed to a mere pilferage, snow balled into into the discovery of the last echelon of Jewish resistance. The rabid Jews were to be eliminated in what would become a towering edifice of Fuhrer’s determination. Sources close to the Fuhrer described how Fuhrer felt an infusion of life hearing the news, The Vatican hailed it as a miracle, and yet the whole world seemed to be limited to the four walls for Jehovah. The “Great Extermination” was to have a fitting end. After decades of weeding, and several years of guerilla war, all seemed to come to an end. The warden shrugged as he entered the cells. This was his destiny; his limelight moment. The warden had handpicked the guards and had chosen to personally escort to the scaffold. as the crowds sat baying for blood, few chose to ponder on the futility of the exercise(promptly arrested next day), most harangued on how elders of Zion plotted to poison wells. some choose to meekly point out the loss of a provenance of fine music, literature, academia(promptly executed) most chose to vilify how Jews were insidiously controlling business, outlets of public opinion, and so did people in confabs( what is history, alas! a fable agreed upon) wondering how how treacherous would have had existence become had Jews survived, sniggered at the Allied suicide at Normandy, count merits of eliminating invalids, advocating the merit of eliminating debauchery practiced under the veil of homosexuality. and as they sat glued to their TV sets waiting for the swastika encrusted vehicle to arrive at what was once believed to be a Wailing Wall. The SS had made elaborate plans to lend the moment historical credulity. and yet warden shivered for what lay in store, one night, one night had changed it all, he reflected at his over zealously guarded secret, his act of sacrilege, marrying a Jew, and then abandoning her. And today, his son stood in front of him, as the warden tried to conceal his tears. It had to done today, he concluded, the planning was right, the men were trust worthy handpicked having impeccable credentials and owing allegiance to him. The point had to be the bridge over the creek, the warden would free the Jehovah and the vehicle would skid over the bridge to fall into creek, the warden thought as he gazed into hopeless eyes of Jehovah.
The convoy left for the SS outpost where Jehovah was to be handed over to SS, things had to move fast, everything had to fall in place, for the SS would leave no stone unturned. the warden had to devise a perfect alibi, give his own life to give Jehovah life .the creek was now a mile away, when the helicopter hovering above noticed a glitch, and before they could make out or even jehovah could construe the tumultuous developments, the van plunged into the creek. Jehovah without handcuffs froze for a moment,almost dumbfounded,suddenly the warden’s cry rang into his ears,” Run son,................. RUN” the warden gave out a vehement cry, as Jehovah found himself running into forest with no idea what lay ahead, and the last words almost made him stop “tell your mother.... ....i loved her, ......so much that i never married any one else”............................. and then a loud bang silenced it all…………..
Hitler died that night.
PS: The story is set in a world where Nazis won the second world war, Holocaust is called the Great extermination, the Date november 9 marks the fall of berlin wall in our world..... just in case u missed the context... as many did....
Congratulations, our apathy just turned 63, how about bringing a homage wreath to commemorate this! so what did you do on this "holiday", had an independence cocktail?, watched the independence day "special" movie ?, enjoy the extended hours of shopping bliss at the neighbourhood mall offering 80+20% discount on inflated prices ?, or just woke @ 11 rubbing eyes basking under the glory of the "independence" of not having to work on a weekday and prospects of an extended weekend, or enjoy the near customary 15th august rains....... ( why do you have to sit and kvetch the whole day crackatdawn). it is easy for people to cite the vicissitude of life as alibi, some take the easy route, denounce the country talk about political demagoguery and feel exonerated. To begin with the succinct argument for all this is " cut the crap! get real"
This is what people say
Excuse 1: Its about having it in hearts, "i dont believe in showing of! it so kitsch!"
Hell yes! the best subterfuge for all the lassitude associated with this day, it's dil ka maamla afterall, scores of our flicks have justified lame plots on this ground. ( "I don't have to watch the independence day parade to prove my "patriotism", it's in my heart....uh! it hurts") and so right are these people, they are doing their bit! they are part of our burgeoning IT industry, service industry or whatever, and they are bringing greenbacks for "us" oh! i missed that, YOU are building the nation and not doing a JOB!, silly me, its always "others" who are flouting traffic norms, paying bribes when caught without license, rigging electric meters to run 3 ACs 24 hours, enchroaching public land, embezzling money meant for the destitute. Our Indian-ness is worth a kick in ass, as plain as it can be, and the earlier we learn it the better.
Excuse-2: "Yaar! no one is doing anything around me! what difference would it make"
Bingo! no one is doing anything, and one will ever do anything, such narcissists we have become that the only thing that matters to us is " i don't wanna make of fool of myself" by hoisting flag in my backyard, and "embarrass" myself by singing the anthem "alone" while "others" watch..... yeah that's for the octogenarians, they did whatever they wanted, no point in staying rooted to the past anyways,isn't it? and about the difference, we have never made any, all we can do is traduce about everything around us, shrugging off in the end, and walking way satiated! Patriotism has become a night stand for us,or better its like the latest tad of fuck-friend, enjoyment without strings attached... we screw the mistress called "liberty" everyday and the irony is prostitution is illegal.........
Excuse -3: I cannot stand the crap they show on TV or those silly Independence day Dance competitions, karaoke nights
That should have had been good, but turned out to be worse. The mavericks of our generation who lambast procedures and traditions as stifling ,take refuge in something 'liberating' and carry the "hip" tag. while the good thing is that they want to change things, yeah we need it, but what do they do, well......um.......um........um....... nothing...... runaway from reality....... i agree everyone has its own set of preferences choices, but the fact is that we celebrate diwali, holi for whatever reasons we have to, we do it year after year, and when it comes to our identity( yeah we remember our dark blue passports when we are racially abused, profiled at airports)what are we doing? its about doing things, and not just being hypocrite, yeah that's what we are, plain truth!
Excuse-4: There is nothing that will do to change anything lets move on!
and you read through all this! enjoy your slumber, amen for the decadent nation.......
However pessimist i may sound, this is the truth, the everything of our banal existence..... change is however plainly a matter of discretion for those who wish to be caught unnerved when the juggernaut of change rolls in.............
Turned 21.... big story.... on the rolls of eligible bachelors.... applications being considered...lolz....
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