Friday, August 28, 2009

Vengeance: Concluding Chapter

2 months ago, Sri remembered, it was Chitrangada's turn to publish the weekly journal, but the key of the main notice board lied with Vir.
Vir had told Sri that he was leaving for the town to buy some important things, and the things were not very important, so she need not come along with him. Somehow, the day had been quite hectic, keeping Sri busy all the way. Thankfully, Enya too had some work in lab, some register she had to make for the lab tomorrow. She wanted to relax today, and the whole room was for her, she was all in luck!
She remembered quite late that it was Chitra's turn, and she had to deliver her the key. She called Chitra from her room, and she sounded worried about tomorrow's issue. Chitra was cool as usual, she said- "Dun worry kid! I got the key from Vir 5 minutes ago! He came and gave it to me."
It was surprising that Vir didn't go to town. Well, he too might have been busy.

Sri would often help Vir to do his assignments, and she would take care for him, thinking twice so as not to do anything which might hurt him. She was a bit more sensitive than him, so she would often try to understand him. Vir would seem to be a bit worried about something, that's why he would often remain reserved, and for few months, he wasn't able to focus on his studies, so Sri made it a point to be of his help.

Yesterday, Vir had come to her, and asked her if she could draw the final of his plans, elevations and sections? It was very necessary for him to visit the town, as his aunt lived there who was serious and it was urgent for him to go. The assignment was also necessary to be submitted, as it was final assignment, and he feared it would be impossible for him to submit it tomorrow.
Sri smiled and said "She'd be all right, don't worry. I'd do the needful".
Next day morning, Chitra came running to Sri, she was pretty excited. "Hey Sri, Did you know, Vir got expelled!" Sri was struck by a bolt! "What? how?"
"come to the HOD's chamber. He's waiting for you. He asked me to locate you and send you there".
With weak knees, she went in the chamber, laden with grim air around her. The whole batch, class of '09 was present there. Vir was standing in the corner, red faced. Perhaps, he had cried. She could see him sweat in the air conditioned chamber.
The Head of the Department asked her in a calm, but serious tone, "Are you aware that Vir had copied your Design assignment? apart from the previous few assignments of detailings and Building Construction Techniques?"
"huh? No Sir! Was he?", she replied, wide eyed.
"Yes, I had already got the reports that he had been copying details from Chitrangada's sheets. Since he has failed in more than 2 subjects in a semester, he is not eligible to carry his studies in this premier institute. It is imperative for you all now to keep your sheets in locks from now onwards. You all may go."
She was the last to leave, and as she closed the door, she could hear Vir pleading the HOD to give him another chance, but she knew it was impossible, HOD was too strict to budge.
She calmed her sudden excitement, and came back to her room, at the end of the day.
Her room mate Enya was sad, apparently her day too had been bad. Sri held her by shoulders. Enya turned and looked at her. She was crying.
Sri asked, "What happened?"
"You sure, baby?"
"Yeah, I'm. Just one bad day won't hurt, right? It's some experiment gone bad..."

Later that night, Chitra came to Sri's room.
"Everything okay Chitra?"
"Yep. Is Enya asleep?"
"yes, she just slept, can you ask me whatever it is, on a stroll?"
On their way on a big 2.2 km long circuit, Chitra initiated the talk.
"Just wanted to ask you something- you orchestrated this whole scandal, didn't you?"
"What leads you to think of this?"
"My locker has number lock. The key to that lock is known to you and Vir only. Vir is not that a fool to copy it blatantly. You know, he always introduces a twist in something original."
Sri recalled the day about a month ago, when she was crying in the room, and there was no one to support her.
Chitra had told her that she had seen Enya and Vir strolling late night in the institute, when she had been to the department to change the Wall magazine in the noticeboard. They hadn't seen her.
Sri had been thinking of an adage "When faith becomes blind it dies". How was it, that she couldn't get the point of Enya asking her about trust and faith? Wasn't it the same day Vir told her that he was going to the town? Sri first didn't believe this whole thing. Seeing is believing. She started digging into the emails, and saw only one email of Enya to Vir, appreciating how smart and intelligent he was, with a reply of thanks from Vir. She cried the whole day.
She realised then that faith in a relation is like a principal sum in bank. It accumulates slowly, and steadily. It can not be given to someone in a lumpsum. It is more related to actions in the past, not the feelings.
She composed herself, and came back to her room, still undecided whether to let them go, or to avenge. She was convinced that she was cheated, and her right was denied. So Vir deserved an apt return gift .
Why did Enya hint her about her feelings then? May be it's completely human to hint their own actions in advance, which might satisfy their emotions. Anyways, it was foolish of her.

Next day, when Enya opened her eyes, she saw Sri smiling, "Good morning baby! How was your sleep?"
"Ummmmm... It was quite good, thanks!" Enya replied, stretching her hands.
"Water, in stagnation, rots. So should we move?" concluded Sri. Enya couldn't agree more.

Vengeance: part 1 of 2

"Water, in stagnation, rots." concluded Sri. Enya couldn't agree more.

6 months ago, Sri and Enya were sitting in a theatre, watching movie, when she said, "Enya, how do you like Vir?". Enya giggled, and said "Assure me I would live after I said I liked him!". Both of them had to be shooed into silence by the audience who were more interested in the movie, than in their heart to heart banter. They made faces, and started watching the movie.

Vir studied in the same section as Sri, and Sri, being the "master architect" was the pet of all the professors. It looked as if she just was revising the whole architecture course. Sciography, drawings, illumination engineering, waste water management, all the courses were at her tips. Often one would see her laughing and giggling around with Enya, her room mate, who was from electronics.
Because Sri also was good in mathematics, so Enya started to harness her ability into understanding the equations which required high degree of knowledge of calculus. Analog Circuits was her nightmare, and it suddenly became easy when Sri started dissecting the formulas. There was now no need to mug up. Soon their friendship grew beyond buck converters and Universal Serial Bus protocols and they started to share their small worlds with each other.
Enya often wondered how was it that Sri always had some time at her disposal, when all her batchmates would slog for hours and hours on the very same assignment. Sri preferred to keep the suspence with her smile. Often she would fill her cigarette with weed, as she would sit with the A0 sized sheet on her drawing board, and she would design everything with a single stroke. No need to draw the rough. She knew her hands, and her hands knew what she was upto. Six hours flat and she'd be done with it.

The second semester from January demanded she should do more courses from architecture than the common curriculum, so she started to take note of people who were in her department. And as the second sem started, the seniors started their regular drama of orientation periods, and extra- curricular activities. It was there, she had first noticed Vir. He would often be present in the Thursday's evening club (organised by the budding architects of the department).

Often, she'd find him in the library too, or in the canteen near the main gate of institute. Three months later, she was competing for the post of Journal secretary, when she found her team (for the doing the ground work) of the post also comprised of Vir, Rekha and Chitrangada.
Working for the post- printing arrangements, the 4 would often go for a night- out, and there would be long sessions of tea, which would be often taken care by Vir. The ideas were mainly of Sri, but Vir would often give a twist in them, making them even more interesting. The sheer brilliance versus the creativity would often make an interesting competition, and whence, they started to have an inclination towards each other.

They even exchanged their passwords of email IDs. Sri's self would never allow her to accept it in front of Vir that she often read his mails, for curiosity's sake. But soon she gave up checking into his account, as her own self would not permit it.

Vir was tall, fair, and his gait was free. Nothing bounded him, ever smiling. Sri often mentioned him with Enya, How the discussions on the ideology of Meis Van der Rohe went, and how charming but difficult was the life of Frank Lloyd Wright, and Enya was no fool to let it go unnoticed.

So, it was after the theatre, Sri decided that she, Vir and Enya would have a small get together. As Enya too wanted to meet him. He sounded interesting to her.

Next day, Vir, Sri, and Enya sat in the coffee bar, and were discussing things, Vir was sitting almost straight, Sri, leaning on his support, with her head on his shoulder and Enya in front of them. They chatted for some 2-3 hours, and thanks to Vir's smooth talking the time warped, and it never felt that long, had not the position of sun been a measure of time too. Vir wanted to become a good architect, and how he had been struggling for the rank in this institute, and some funny stories of his tuitions were quite funny to pay heed to.

That night, as Sri came back at eleven, switched off the light and fell on bed. The creaking bed announced her presence, and Enya asked her "Are you still awake?". Sri said "Yeah" with a sigh. "how did you like him?", Sri asked.
"How much do you trust him?" Enya questioned her in response.
"I love him a lot! Isn't it sufficient?" Sri fell asleep, getting oblivious to the next question of Enya.
... next part concludes

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


In the jungle of Institute of Indian Technologies, there existed two crazy students, with particularly varying interests. The Monkey was a detailed thinker, mostly residing in his own theme, and rarely peeking out to see what the world was doing. He'd get a screenshot of the current state of world, and will quickly recreate in his brains what must have happened, and then he would quietly get absorbed in his thinking. The Donkey was the one who was always on the roll when it came to foreign policies, polity, politics, and bureaucracy. He would always have a conclusion ready on the weirdest of the patterns and he would often extrapolate them to predict what the future held.

Two years later, both of them passed and joined the beautiful world outside. Their job description was the same. Only that satisfaction level was different. They would often meet and The Donkey would often narrate interesting affairs surrounding, or may be they would discuss the ideas of various people.
One day, while roaming, The Donkey mentioned a famous quote, "The god is a performer, performing before an audience too afraid to laugh". "Don't we remember something about an audi, performance, stage, and we all being characters?" The Monkey thought. Strolling in the great market place, the two friends were discussing this. The Donkey continued, "The Penguins at a far-away-land Antarctica often feel hungry at a time when there are too many fish in the sea. They dive to dine, and before doing that, wish each other bon appetit. The sharks too feel hungry at the same time, and they too wish each other bon appetit, and then hunt the penguins! Look at the comedy- they both feel hungry at the same time!!". Seeing the facial expressions of the Monkey, Donkey suggested another example- "The newly born birds which live near ponds often take their first flight after a few days of hatching. The comedy is that if they crash during their first flight, they often fall in the open mouths of crocs and other animals waiting for them. They become the feast of these animals in the first flight itself!", continued Donkey, " If you call it a comedy, it's a grim one".
"Take a third example- In Sundarbans, the jungle is so dense that humans often prefer to live near the shore of delta. The water level often varies markedly during the whole day, and there live piscivorous tigers, who drink that saline water. These tigers, often known as Royal Bengal Tigers are the smart and aggressive cousins of other indian tigers. They are big, and they are bad, they know their footsteps, and they will hunt humans, whenever they can. It is virtually possible to go deep inside the forest." Having laid a proper foundation, the Donkey took a deep breath, and continued "Now, the fun part is that honey bees also make their combs in the deep forest. The combs often are huge. Now, humans have to go inside to harvest honey from the bees, where their predator awaits!".
The examples started a train of thoughts in Monkey. So far, he believed world is an auditorium, and the god is the only audience. Now there is an opposite theory, the god is a performer, and we all, observers. How can it be? It seems like the trees are moving in a direction anti parallel, when we move.
To interconnect both the perspectives, we can shift our own. Imagine the world is a circus, with everyone being a performer, and god being the ring master. May be he's more than a ring master, he may be an organiser, who has put a constraint, a starting condition, continuing conditions for the act, and a terminating condition. The performers in circus are all acrobats, so they can not see their own moves, but can witness how the tight rope walker is performing, and how good the tigers are doing ball with the humans, etcetera. Now, we can safely say the god is performing, we too are performers, and yet, we don't dare laugh, because we are walking on tight rope ourselves. We laugh, we fall. Only if we are too busy to watch others than noticing our own steps on the tight rope.
Special Mentions: Chaitanya Vardhan for his inputs, Voltaire and Shakespeare for sharing their piece of perspectives, God- his circus is interesting.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Singing on a Lower Pitch

The Dog was lurking in the dark alleys of internet, and by chance, he ended up sniffing few write ups in a blog filed under the title "rant". The article writer definitely wanted to be heard, and she was being heard, with comments on her blog being double of The Dog's own. What caught again The Dog's sniffer nose was the unusual intensity of the word "rant". Technically barking- rant would mean too much of violence or extravagant, as would be the context when the word was used when it shouldn't have been. Everything was perfectly under control, with no emotion being out of control, as the label would claim, observed the beast. He had encountered a similar observation not so long ago, may be half a decade ago.

The Dog wanted to go for higher studies, for which he wanted to write a cover letter, shamelessly mentioning why he fitted that university, in a land far far away. He was genuinely interested in the subject and wanted to make it his career, and hence, to show his keen curiousity, he chose words he deemed fit to design the application. A wise and kind man lived next to him, who would often help him diagnose his inner self. The wise man perused through his application, looked up to the animal, and said "Everything you wrote is the truth, but your know, there is a problem. I call that problem overexpressing an emotion, for example- instead of "highly interested" may be you could have suggested some of your acts which depicted the same."

The Dog was gifted, actually, compensated to understand the human languages, for; he was unable to comprehend much of human emotions. He would never understand the rising or the falling graph of emotions, or understand the unsaid, so he would often tilt his head to one side, and stare wide- eyed, with a bewildered expression at men and women, who would often dramatise and romanticise the events.

Why did people often do that? His own kinds knew only a few notes to sing the famous lyrics of Baha men song "who let the dogs out". They were never dramatic, in fact, most of the animals, unless it was the mating season.

The only reason, The Dog, understood was that people often had a sense of awareness, which allowed them to realise they existed. The self also had an extension, which The Dog felt was vestige, known as ego. This part of self (illogically, but successfully) tried to convince the self that the being was a unique individual, with no one as special as him. This would often make him feel cherished, and would make him want more. The more meant even more, when it came to fame.

The fame rhymes with the word name, observed The Dog. That too wasn't without a reason (though that very same reason, however, didn't follow with shame, dame, game, blame, etc). The ego or the sense of self, allowed the humans to associate themselves with words which they thought were unique for them. If someone uttered that word, they would respond, as if someone had nudged them.

[Agreed, my family didn't have names, and we used to understand how to hunt a mouse or a poor small animal in packs, and everyone developed his own sense of responsibility in the team, by the games we often played in our childhood. But humans named everything, even their homes, cars, and pets, including me. I responded to them, because everytime i responded, I was given my favourite bone to suck, or a juicy piece of mutton. The reward is a big motivator.]

So, when humans name is called, they feel elated a bit, and this gives them a sense of being wanted by the person calling the word, that is, what they call name. If a lot many people would call their name, it would be a transaction in which the input is too overwhelming. To make people call your name, you need to be different, you needed to be dramatic, guesses The Dog. May be, you needed to be special, hence the usage of the word "rant" in the title of the article, when it wasn't necessary, to dramatise a simple event.

Humans, are the descendents of the great Ape family, and hence, they believe in copying what they find attractive. As a result, now The Dog finds all the world being dramatic in a way or the other. May be, for a change, letting the actions communicate would keep things simple, and clean. It may sound boring at first, but the closer look would reveal that since the things are easily understood, so it would greatly increase the pace of the work, and speed is more fun, The Dog guesses that's what the wise and kind man meant.