Friday, April 10, 2009
priceless moments..
There are some moments in your life that you want to cherish throughout; that you think upon at times of all times of absurdity ,laugh out loud and earn crazy stares from the ppl around u. Tonite I made one such awesome memory . College life is the time when you can make a vast collection of such "experieces of your life". How much ever we crib, cry and bitch about the unfairness of our slaved labour, just a night with some special friends make up for it all. I can recollect the times when I have done unimaginably funny antics and just a photo, a phrase or most times a song pulls me right into the time travel and I am lost in some moments of pure magic. As the times get harder and tougher, and the unfriendly future beckons us to an eternal dryland of work, I wonder if I could ever meet such ppl who 'll get me in splits with one short comment, who can understand a joke in just the tone of my voice, who can fight like monsters of the likes of which the world has rarely seen. Its amazing..how these small pockets of time can amount to a treasure so great and priceless that we safely store in our hearts. Just an hour starting with a totally absurd idea and the following drama has urged me to bookmark this particular date with something that I can afford to reveal in public, maybe this vague post is all i can think of; but which i will forever treasure. hope some of the others do too ;)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Is older==wiser?
I never get on well with most of the elderly elite. No, that would be wrong, actually I never get on with them at all.Not that I dont like to, never , but I always end up in the wrong side of those convos and bearing the brunt of a scolding.Even a slightly loose comment can result in a lecture long enough to make me sit through a history class. A lot of people in age>50 are super obnoxious and judgemental and opinionated that they love to drown the listeners in their wordly views of wisdom. especially the youngsters. If you are in school, the topic is "college admissions, board exams, future prospects etc etc" and voila, i 'll be given a lenghty talk abt the achievements of their prodigal kids.even worse the advice that follows "you see, CBSE is useless, no marks guaranteed, do not take **** engineering, there is no market.." and so goes on the list of ridiculous statemetns whose knowledge they obtained from their neighours brothers grandchildren or worse,Sun TV news . They never tire until you obey them point blank.One of my aunts was so adamant that I should take up State board in class 11.She was such a pestering nuisance that she managed to block me even when I go to the bathroom and give me another of her carreer talks . Why the hell do these people have to pound us repeatedly with their views if saying them once is enough for all? I understand the concern and caring part but come on, its MY life, my decisions to make.
Surprisingly, its not even the parents in most cases who give such constant headaches but the next relatives circle. Unknown uncles and aunts sprout up from nowhere and literally queue up to talk to u. Opinions are welcome if the source is any worthy of delivering it. Usually grandmothers are easiest to manage. They are happy enough if you oblige them with a prompt attendence and eat a jumbo lunch at their place. I have been winning my grandmom's favour just for banging her door once a day and demanding tea/tiffin. Just hang around fr a while, murmur "ahan".."oho"..at frequent intervals during their monologues of God knows what, and just take off exactly half hour later. Thats it, I am always her favourite grandchild.I become too perfect to have the need of her advice at all.
Even the advice problem can be tolerated, but some impertinent comments cannot. I respect some elders just for their age if not anything else. But my good manners were tested a bit too much by a 70 year old thatha .Due to my mom's ill health last December, I was given the thooku and entrusted with the task of getting food at a godforsaken time of 6.30 am on every morning of my "vacation" from a entrepreneur- maami supplying sambar,rasam etc. to office goers . She had the most annoying father who sits on the pillion every morning and loves to vambu alathufy with the customers. I, unfortunately was his frequent target. With a superior attitude which can be justified for his age, he drills me with a quiet ferocity. Once it went out of hand.
thatha: Which school are you studying in?
me: school illa college.
thatha (raised brows) : oh, is it? which college?
This was a tricky question.I can either tell the truth and hear another tirade of "oh, y Singapore? there are so many good colleges here, why did u leave ur parents? bla bla" or lie. I chose to lie.
me : Cresent Engineering college.
thatha:( seemed satisfied for a moment, but only for a moment) now a days, everyone is doing engineering. its overflowing. no market for IT , u know? ......(on&on&on &on for next 10 min. used to this reply, I almost fell asleep . then suddenly asks) why have you come to buy food? pommanaati ponnu, nee yen samaika matengara? idha kaalathla yarukum samaika therila....
damn it, just when i was congradulating myself of avoiding the college controversy, i landed in this mess. It was in the tip of my tongue to ask him to mind his own bizness. Since the thatha was coughing while speaking, I restrained, not wanting him to argue longer with me. and then the punch question arrives.
thatha : do u have any brothers?
me: no. just a sister.
thatha: paavam un appa amma. payyan irundha kadasi varaikum kaapathuvan, rendum ponna pochu.
That was THE last straw.I was stunned. This old useless guy was judging me, torturing me with advice,insulting me and now pitying my parents.Maybe in ancient years, one can understand that sentiment. But now? Did he even remember that he was living in his daughter's charity and not his son's? I am dismissed as useless just bacause m a girl? I still dont know how I managed to get back home without causing him any harm.But even I couldnt resist "paavam unga kozhanthel" before walking out.They say Old is Gold, but sometimes, its just irritating rusted crumbs.
i am not stereotyping here. My point is that people cannot expect to be worshipped and obeyed just because of the age factor. Though in our culture, anyone elder is to be respected, they should know better than to misuse the treatment.
Surprisingly, its not even the parents in most cases who give such constant headaches but the next relatives circle. Unknown uncles and aunts sprout up from nowhere and literally queue up to talk to u. Opinions are welcome if the source is any worthy of delivering it. Usually grandmothers are easiest to manage. They are happy enough if you oblige them with a prompt attendence and eat a jumbo lunch at their place. I have been winning my grandmom's favour just for banging her door once a day and demanding tea/tiffin. Just hang around fr a while, murmur "ahan".."oho"..at frequent intervals during their monologues of God knows what, and just take off exactly half hour later. Thats it, I am always her favourite grandchild.I become too perfect to have the need of her advice at all.
Even the advice problem can be tolerated, but some impertinent comments cannot. I respect some elders just for their age if not anything else. But my good manners were tested a bit too much by a 70 year old thatha .Due to my mom's ill health last December, I was given the thooku and entrusted with the task of getting food at a godforsaken time of 6.30 am on every morning of my "vacation" from a entrepreneur- maami supplying sambar,rasam etc. to office goers . She had the most annoying father who sits on the pillion every morning and loves to vambu alathufy with the customers. I, unfortunately was his frequent target. With a superior attitude which can be justified for his age, he drills me with a quiet ferocity. Once it went out of hand.
thatha: Which school are you studying in?
me: school illa college.
thatha (raised brows) : oh, is it? which college?
This was a tricky question.I can either tell the truth and hear another tirade of "oh, y Singapore? there are so many good colleges here, why did u leave ur parents? bla bla" or lie. I chose to lie.
me : Cresent Engineering college.
thatha:( seemed satisfied for a moment, but only for a moment) now a days, everyone is doing engineering. its overflowing. no market for IT , u know? ......(on&on&on &on for next 10 min. used to this reply, I almost fell asleep . then suddenly asks) why have you come to buy food? pommanaati ponnu, nee yen samaika matengara? idha kaalathla yarukum samaika therila....
damn it, just when i was congradulating myself of avoiding the college controversy, i landed in this mess. It was in the tip of my tongue to ask him to mind his own bizness. Since the thatha was coughing while speaking, I restrained, not wanting him to argue longer with me. and then the punch question arrives.
thatha : do u have any brothers?
me: no. just a sister.
thatha: paavam un appa amma. payyan irundha kadasi varaikum kaapathuvan, rendum ponna pochu.
That was THE last straw.I was stunned. This old useless guy was judging me, torturing me with advice,insulting me and now pitying my parents.Maybe in ancient years, one can understand that sentiment. But now? Did he even remember that he was living in his daughter's charity and not his son's? I am dismissed as useless just bacause m a girl? I still dont know how I managed to get back home without causing him any harm.But even I couldnt resist "paavam unga kozhanthel" before walking out.They say Old is Gold, but sometimes, its just irritating rusted crumbs.
i am not stereotyping here. My point is that people cannot expect to be worshipped and obeyed just because of the age factor. Though in our culture, anyone elder is to be respected, they should know better than to misuse the treatment.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
College pressures
Recently there were 2 suicide cases in NTU that occured within days apart from each other. Both were from the dept of EE . Obviously, it was a field day for the media. Infact, they got so excited over the item that they fabricated fantastic stories form the scraps of info the university cudnt manage to supress. Nevertheless, the underlying fact that alarmed the people was the killer stress level among the university students today. Though the situation may seem quite exagerrated to warrant suicide, the pressure can seriously cripple the students to some extent. My own college is a champion in supplying such treatment.
One such method of unjustifiable torture today is the threat of accomodation. You see, there are about 33000+ students studying here. OF which over 12000+ are international students. THe hostels in the campus can accomodate around 8000 students only. No one knows why the management doesnt take any measure to construct more hostels or what they do with our exorbitant fee. So, in their typical problem solving way, how do they manage the situation ?its simple. each undergraduate student has to do some CCAs where the are given points. SO, at the year end, all the students bid for the available hostels with these points and the ones having more than the cut off points are kept in , the rest are booted out.
this mock contest nicely places the fault on the students for not securing enouf points to win their hostel instead of the management having to look bad for not having enough accomodation. And so, every year this intense fight to have a roof over our head begins and the students flock to do any stupid activity in the name of cca to scrap the points. THe story of these CCAs are more interesting. Though some of them are quite useful and meaningful, the amount of work extracted from each club through the entire year can rival the study schedule put out by the university.
One can call the situation a healthy one, exposing the students to academics as well as extra curricular giving an overall balence blah blah blah crap. It would have been so,if this game isnt dirty; if the university could resist bullying the students a little more. Last year the so called cut off was increased dramatically without any clue. NOTE 1 : the cut off points are released only after all the cca points are finalised at the year end and so, if u are unfortunate to fall below the mark, its just bad luck.Note 2: some clubs emulate indian politics very well-promise great amt of points, get all the work done,forget abt the deal. note 3: The situation gets worse each year, with the hostel fee hike and the competition evn more maddening.
This mad scramble takes the joy out of the entire scheme of ccas. People are forced to perform the most stupidest,atrocious activities and some arts clubs go far enough to bully the members to buy tickets for their mediocre shows. At the end of the day, it just sucks.
With this added pressure of doing time-consuming work after a tiring day,cope up with academics and when finally booted out without a second thought of one's financial situation by the management into the SG streets,not many poeple 'd be sane enough to avoid the depression black hole . How can the university expect the students to ace the exams when they cannot even guarantee them the basic facilities of life? Well, we are taught one true lesson well form an early age.. "when the going gets tough, the tough get going".
One such method of unjustifiable torture today is the threat of accomodation. You see, there are about 33000+ students studying here. OF which over 12000+ are international students. THe hostels in the campus can accomodate around 8000 students only. No one knows why the management doesnt take any measure to construct more hostels or what they do with our exorbitant fee. So, in their typical problem solving way, how do they manage the situation ?its simple. each undergraduate student has to do some CCAs where the are given points. SO, at the year end, all the students bid for the available hostels with these points and the ones having more than the cut off points are kept in , the rest are booted out.
this mock contest nicely places the fault on the students for not securing enouf points to win their hostel instead of the management having to look bad for not having enough accomodation. And so, every year this intense fight to have a roof over our head begins and the students flock to do any stupid activity in the name of cca to scrap the points. THe story of these CCAs are more interesting. Though some of them are quite useful and meaningful, the amount of work extracted from each club through the entire year can rival the study schedule put out by the university.
One can call the situation a healthy one, exposing the students to academics as well as extra curricular giving an overall balence blah blah blah crap. It would have been so,if this game isnt dirty; if the university could resist bullying the students a little more. Last year the so called cut off was increased dramatically without any clue. NOTE 1 : the cut off points are released only after all the cca points are finalised at the year end and so, if u are unfortunate to fall below the mark, its just bad luck.Note 2: some clubs emulate indian politics very well-promise great amt of points, get all the work done,forget abt the deal. note 3: The situation gets worse each year, with the hostel fee hike and the competition evn more maddening.
This mad scramble takes the joy out of the entire scheme of ccas. People are forced to perform the most stupidest,atrocious activities and some arts clubs go far enough to bully the members to buy tickets for their mediocre shows. At the end of the day, it just sucks.
With this added pressure of doing time-consuming work after a tiring day,cope up with academics and when finally booted out without a second thought of one's financial situation by the management into the SG streets,not many poeple 'd be sane enough to avoid the depression black hole . How can the university expect the students to ace the exams when they cannot even guarantee them the basic facilities of life? Well, we are taught one true lesson well form an early age.. "when the going gets tough, the tough get going".
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
the culinary crisis
One of the most irritating type of blog posts according to me, are the culinary corner types, where the writer goes on and on about the sooper dooper dish they have had for the day or they come up with a good for nothing reminiscence about the perfect meal of their lives.(inc. miniscule details of the recipies and pictures in various stage of the preparation) Well, to me it just sucks. you can flaunt your wealth, your relationship, even yourself in pubic but never your food. FOOD is a very very sensitive topic to many. It is indispensable to live and the task of preparation is highly complicated than solving iit problems. The flavour has to be right, the aroma has to be enticing and the sight- delicious.ok, the reason why i m sitting up at 2.30 am, dishing out this seemingly irrelevent adoration for the art of cooking is due to the lesson i learnt for the day :- This seemingly easy task where our pattis put out a meal fr 50 ppl without batting an eyelash is actually a most difficult challenge, sumtimes unbeatable even by the smartest geniuses with extrordinary IQ such as this author.
Well, this is one of the curious cases of those exceptional people fighting their constant battle against the formidable kitchen.Since rice is too less worthy of an opponent to them, many go after the mother of all troubles- vegetable. One of the most common choices of the gang is -Lady's finger. It seemed pretty ok to win over, with its gentle name and can be weakened further with soft tomatoes.but the game changes when you open the little green boxes to find dirty black seeds inside. That signifies the sound of the conk before this battle. In the next 1 hr, the heat rises rapidly when you unsuccessfully try to juggle between boiling the veggies and cooking the pulses , trying your best to prevent the stove/oven from betraying you with a burning smell. Right then, you start wondering if all the mess is worth the kick. wait, did i say kick? it would have deserted you after the first 10 min of the preps. SO,when you wait out the rest of the time, fighting to create a treasure out of a sticky tar, the memories of unsuccessful highschool chemistry experiments come back to plague you(Atleast there were enough partners present to copy the results from). The familiar sense of foreboding arising as the aroma becomes a smell is then quashed out by turning on the ipod to the highest volume. After singing endless songs in a v.bad voice amidst the piling mess, your grumbling stomach finally wins over the debate against the struggling stew. A compromise is then reached to draw the match.
Well, all is well that ends well. but this does not. The freshly prepared dish when set in the table is met with numerous accidents as the clock/coke tin/ even yourself fall into the plate, feedin most of it to the ground. Swear-curse-swear. clean up the mess. Finally, the table is set and feast is about to begin. the first taste is pretty good. you jump in ecstacy, bringing the roof down, call up your parents to share the amazing accomplishment, take pics. THe next spoon is surprisingly not that good..and the third goes down with a frown.." maybe its not boiled properly, maybe less salt.." all sorts of maybes spring up. somehow, the plate gets empty after a long difficult time, with the help of a few episodes from a good sitcom. Now kicks in the jury that decides who the winner is. THe result is mostly likely the same - quesy stomach, nausea , discomfort in the lower belly - you lose, the thrashed up kitchen has the last laugh.
Imagine after undergoing all this torture and while compromising with a humiliating defeat, the first blog you open is filled with junk like "my super sambar" or " my sweet special kichadi mix" , the best punishment possible is to fill their mouths with your recipies and keep them shut once for all.
Well, this is one of the curious cases of those exceptional people fighting their constant battle against the formidable kitchen.Since rice is too less worthy of an opponent to them, many go after the mother of all troubles- vegetable. One of the most common choices of the gang is -Lady's finger. It seemed pretty ok to win over, with its gentle name and can be weakened further with soft tomatoes.but the game changes when you open the little green boxes to find dirty black seeds inside. That signifies the sound of the conk before this battle. In the next 1 hr, the heat rises rapidly when you unsuccessfully try to juggle between boiling the veggies and cooking the pulses , trying your best to prevent the stove/oven from betraying you with a burning smell. Right then, you start wondering if all the mess is worth the kick. wait, did i say kick? it would have deserted you after the first 10 min of the preps. SO,when you wait out the rest of the time, fighting to create a treasure out of a sticky tar, the memories of unsuccessful highschool chemistry experiments come back to plague you(Atleast there were enough partners present to copy the results from). The familiar sense of foreboding arising as the aroma becomes a smell is then quashed out by turning on the ipod to the highest volume. After singing endless songs in a v.bad voice amidst the piling mess, your grumbling stomach finally wins over the debate against the struggling stew. A compromise is then reached to draw the match.
Well, all is well that ends well. but this does not. The freshly prepared dish when set in the table is met with numerous accidents as the clock/coke tin/ even yourself fall into the plate, feedin most of it to the ground. Swear-curse-swear. clean up the mess. Finally, the table is set and feast is about to begin. the first taste is pretty good. you jump in ecstacy, bringing the roof down, call up your parents to share the amazing accomplishment, take pics. THe next spoon is surprisingly not that good..and the third goes down with a frown.." maybe its not boiled properly, maybe less salt.." all sorts of maybes spring up. somehow, the plate gets empty after a long difficult time, with the help of a few episodes from a good sitcom. Now kicks in the jury that decides who the winner is. THe result is mostly likely the same - quesy stomach, nausea , discomfort in the lower belly - you lose, the thrashed up kitchen has the last laugh.
Imagine after undergoing all this torture and while compromising with a humiliating defeat, the first blog you open is filled with junk like "my super sambar" or " my sweet special kichadi mix" , the best punishment possible is to fill their mouths with your recipies and keep them shut once for all.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Travel blabs 02
Its always harder to begin writing after a prolonged break plagued by procastination and simple laziness.In the rare times when we finaaly get the "mood" to break the ice, the occasional yet everpresent tab of youtube or facebook lures us in and within a few minutes, the precious mood gets lost again in a jumble of vetti videos and sitcoms. And SO, continues the cycle whenever you get the inspiration to blog again, thanks to our monkey minds. Well, I am determined to open the account today and the seemingly easiest shortcut that comes to me is to blog about my wonderful , amazing, New year 09. I know, its a pain in the neck for those suffering frm an extreme static ,mokai period of life to read through fluanting,romanticized,incredible experiences of the momentary fortunate souls and to this, I beg excuse.
My "big" trip of the year was basically a Christmas and NewYear with my family at SG with a short detour in KL. So, from a tourist point of view, SG seemed pretty good. This is actually the best time to visit , given the fact that the entire island city would be shimmering in bright lights and Christmas trees. The setting itself was out-of-a -story-book sort, esp after an interlude of dull indoor hours with muddy cyclones for Chennai folks. My mom and sis were literally stunned , and I should say the worldly yours truly, was also more than a little surprised.
Given the fact that SG can be covered in 3 days max, the decorations of X mas alone would pester you to take unimaginable Giga bytes of pics at every turn of the streets..making the 3 day visit into a week long one. Sentosa, Clark Quay are must see sights. The change of theme for the Musical Fountain show at the artificial island of Sentosa (created for the sole purpose of looting money in a "tourist-site starved" city) , and the sheer amt of people milling its so called beaches( which is actually backwaters) added with the infectious merry spirit of the season makes it a not-to-be missed spot for the first and second timers. The island's night life is a compulsary experience without which the sole purpose of your visit will be utterly lost. Eventhough, a mere walk along the Boat Quay and a ride in the Singapore river can only be counted as "Night life" for family tourists, it still provides a feeling of exclusive freedom and a lightness in the heart to stroll around the skyscrapers of marina bay in all its splendour under the glimmering moonlight.
The KL trip ,however,turned put to be a stick in the mud type, especially after travelling from Singapore. Blame it on the merciless heat, or the poorer economy or the absence of any festive spirit, the place was an eye sore. I personally think its due to the over stuffing of islamic tastes in all the buildings of the city. Its just vast storeys of concrete structures that are tall yet plain, indistinguishable frm each other.Coming to terms with my disappointment was tough, while standing on Sky Bridge connecting the 42nd storeys of the Petronas twin towers,where i had always dreamt of visiting; only that in my dreams, I 'd feel amazed, reckless and thoroughly captivated. THe food is another turn down for vegetarians. I appreciated SG food for the first time then and realised how lucky i was. There is simply nothing excepting the saravana bavan or the sangeetha hidden among the slum streets of Masjid India. The much hyped about Night Market was unberable with its (ranganathan street) ^2 crowds amidst the smells of burning beef and hanging chicken from the umpteen hawker stalls lining up the narrow walkways. Not to frame my opinions on any future visitors, but KL is worth 1 day - for visiting Batu Caves(you get to see monkeys there) and the rest of the day for shopping chocolates and sweets (its cheaper than Singapore).
Before my over-ethusiastic memories compel me to write another Lonely Planet guidebook, I'll just buzz off by declaring that the sights of the great city immersed in the glitters of some mind blowing new Year's eve fireworks above the water front cannot be described in words, so I'm put up the following sample. You get the drift..
My "big" trip of the year was basically a Christmas and NewYear with my family at SG with a short detour in KL. So, from a tourist point of view, SG seemed pretty good. This is actually the best time to visit , given the fact that the entire island city would be shimmering in bright lights and Christmas trees. The setting itself was out-of-a -story-book sort, esp after an interlude of dull indoor hours with muddy cyclones for Chennai folks. My mom and sis were literally stunned , and I should say the worldly yours truly, was also more than a little surprised.
Given the fact that SG can be covered in 3 days max, the decorations of X mas alone would pester you to take unimaginable Giga bytes of pics at every turn of the streets..making the 3 day visit into a week long one. Sentosa, Clark Quay are must see sights. The change of theme for the Musical Fountain show at the artificial island of Sentosa (created for the sole purpose of looting money in a "tourist-site starved" city) , and the sheer amt of people milling its so called beaches( which is actually backwaters) added with the infectious merry spirit of the season makes it a not-to-be missed spot for the first and second timers. The island's night life is a compulsary experience without which the sole purpose of your visit will be utterly lost. Eventhough, a mere walk along the Boat Quay and a ride in the Singapore river can only be counted as "Night life" for family tourists, it still provides a feeling of exclusive freedom and a lightness in the heart to stroll around the skyscrapers of marina bay in all its splendour under the glimmering moonlight.
The KL trip ,however,turned put to be a stick in the mud type, especially after travelling from Singapore. Blame it on the merciless heat, or the poorer economy or the absence of any festive spirit, the place was an eye sore. I personally think its due to the over stuffing of islamic tastes in all the buildings of the city. Its just vast storeys of concrete structures that are tall yet plain, indistinguishable frm each other.Coming to terms with my disappointment was tough, while standing on Sky Bridge connecting the 42nd storeys of the Petronas twin towers,where i had always dreamt of visiting; only that in my dreams, I 'd feel amazed, reckless and thoroughly captivated. THe food is another turn down for vegetarians. I appreciated SG food for the first time then and realised how lucky i was. There is simply nothing excepting the saravana bavan or the sangeetha hidden among the slum streets of Masjid India. The much hyped about Night Market was unberable with its (ranganathan street) ^2 crowds amidst the smells of burning beef and hanging chicken from the umpteen hawker stalls lining up the narrow walkways. Not to frame my opinions on any future visitors, but KL is worth 1 day - for visiting Batu Caves(you get to see monkeys there) and the rest of the day for shopping chocolates and sweets (its cheaper than Singapore).
Before my over-ethusiastic memories compel me to write another Lonely Planet guidebook, I'll just buzz off by declaring that the sights of the great city immersed in the glitters of some mind blowing new Year's eve fireworks above the water front cannot be described in words, so I'm put up the following sample. You get the drift..
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Ingrediants of an extracting sem
"Just 2 more years of hard work till you get a good seat, then life will be totally easy. Come on.." The encouraging words of my aunt 4 years ago, reminds me now of the best ironies in life.I pity every secondary schooler working his ass off due to blind faith in the above statement. Especially, when it so happens that with every year ahead, the going gets tougher. Thanks to my faculty, I cant expect a greater torture in my course after this sem. WHy? EE2001. THe terror of every electrical adn computer engin student of NUS. the subject that is designed with the whole purpose of killing the students by exhaustion, sheer mental and physical exhaustion.
A toolbox, 200$ , a topic( an intelligent health device), 4 months time - recipe for torture.
Its effects:
- being woken up every saturday and SUNDAY morning at 8 am sharp by an over enthusiastic project partner, who unfortunately happened to stay in my hostel.
- 12 hour tete a tete with my tool box every weekend, screwing up wires into dumb processors, writing endless pages of asm codes, grtting ur teeth to make the stupid machine follow a simple algorithm.
- scrounging on the same instant noodles and nescafe mud coffee till my tongue became dead and i lost my ability to taste any food.
- spending every instant of my free time in lab, staring at the dumb machine i am supposed to create, cursing myself for taking up engineering.
- Night outs at engin, com hall, turning myself into a sleep deprived machine, capable of working for 30 hrs straight, napping on chairs, benches on the faculty corridors,mid night talks abt unimaginable things with terrible aquaintances just to keep the eye open..
- Waking up every single day with the worry of the system failures, the problems in codes and circuit designs, desparation to find the solutions atleast on that day.
- Being holed with one of my team mates(whom I happened to like before), for weeks together, till we drove each other crazy.I came to know how dreadful the effects of clash of personalities could be when put in close quarters for a prolonged period.Anyone who claims "opposites attracts" must be deaf and dumb.
- Periodic upheavels of out-of - the -world happiness and ectasy the minute our integration finally worked only to be replaced by ground-hitting-gloom and devastation when it would automatically crash in the next minute.
- afraid to death on THE day, we were supposed to present our "working" machine. Praying till the God himself couldn't have borne it any longer. And the blessed relief., soaking my entire body in bliss, when our half impaired system decided to put up a decent show..
The prize of succes :
A PASS. and A "PHD" - Personal Health Detector,the solution to a perfect home health care.
But Above all, a feeling of winning a huge battle, surpassing a herculean challenge, great relief of never having to repeat this mess, a tolerence and endurance for all sorts of people and Of course, a happy confidence that even I can become a passable engineer.
A toolbox, 200$ , a topic( an intelligent health device), 4 months time - recipe for torture.
Its effects:
- being woken up every saturday and SUNDAY morning at 8 am sharp by an over enthusiastic project partner, who unfortunately happened to stay in my hostel.
- 12 hour tete a tete with my tool box every weekend, screwing up wires into dumb processors, writing endless pages of asm codes, grtting ur teeth to make the stupid machine follow a simple algorithm.
- scrounging on the same instant noodles and nescafe mud coffee till my tongue became dead and i lost my ability to taste any food.
- spending every instant of my free time in lab, staring at the dumb machine i am supposed to create, cursing myself for taking up engineering.
- Night outs at engin, com hall, turning myself into a sleep deprived machine, capable of working for 30 hrs straight, napping on chairs, benches on the faculty corridors,mid night talks abt unimaginable things with terrible aquaintances just to keep the eye open..
- Waking up every single day with the worry of the system failures, the problems in codes and circuit designs, desparation to find the solutions atleast on that day.
- Being holed with one of my team mates(whom I happened to like before), for weeks together, till we drove each other crazy.I came to know how dreadful the effects of clash of personalities could be when put in close quarters for a prolonged period.Anyone who claims "opposites attracts" must be deaf and dumb.
- Periodic upheavels of out-of - the -world happiness and ectasy the minute our integration finally worked only to be replaced by ground-hitting-gloom and devastation when it would automatically crash in the next minute.
- afraid to death on THE day, we were supposed to present our "working" machine. Praying till the God himself couldn't have borne it any longer. And the blessed relief., soaking my entire body in bliss, when our half impaired system decided to put up a decent show..
The prize of succes :
A PASS. and A "PHD" - Personal Health Detector,the solution to a perfect home health care.
But Above all, a feeling of winning a huge battle, surpassing a herculean challenge, great relief of never having to repeat this mess, a tolerence and endurance for all sorts of people and Of course, a happy confidence that even I can become a passable engineer.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Puppets in Strings.
Thursday evening, post gruelling exam bliss, McD burger + coke dinner, engaging the mind in an enjoyable vettiness, I enter the YIH TV room and meet my freinds after 1 week of intense cramming.Amidst the vetti talk, snide comments, xam cribbings,the topic suddenly turned to Mumbai. Caught unawares, my bewildered, ignorant, just out of a cave look was the instantaneous response. "Yea right", i laughed. Stunned looks, a chilling silence followed. THe thrashing began.
Somehow,when i managed to get hold of a comp, the astonishing, out of hollywood, action thriller headlines greeted me. It was like getting sucked into a dream. a ridiculous dream. my ususal type. Half hour later, the news flash still kept coming , more deaths, more tortures. THe dream got more ridiculous, fanatical, evil. A look of a gunman, in black clothes, resembling a hateful aqaintance . the witness statements screeching along..“My brother, Manish, died in the firing at Colaba’s Hamaal Galli.” ..THe shock, the idocy hooked me to the comp for the rest for the night. Worried chats with Anxious friends from Mumbai, unable to contact their families at home...Why, How, Who, What next??. Thousand questions pounding , yet the most terrifying of all, the sick feeling, the frustrating regret "What can I do!" As discussions turned to heated debates,as speculations and predictions were thrown in 'bout the involvement of Govt, as calm voices analysed the issue like a talk during tea time,the paralytic realisation struck - to be hung helpless as puppets on strings of some power, helpless to do nothing but yap about the misery, attacked by rage and guilt. Still in shock, I remembered I still got an exam the next day.
Somehow,when i managed to get hold of a comp, the astonishing, out of hollywood, action thriller headlines greeted me. It was like getting sucked into a dream. a ridiculous dream. my ususal type. Half hour later, the news flash still kept coming , more deaths, more tortures. THe dream got more ridiculous, fanatical, evil. A look of a gunman, in black clothes, resembling a hateful aqaintance . the witness statements screeching along..“My brother, Manish, died in the firing at Colaba’s Hamaal Galli.” ..THe shock, the idocy hooked me to the comp for the rest for the night. Worried chats with Anxious friends from Mumbai, unable to contact their families at home...Why, How, Who, What next??. Thousand questions pounding , yet the most terrifying of all, the sick feeling, the frustrating regret "What can I do!" As discussions turned to heated debates,as speculations and predictions were thrown in 'bout the involvement of Govt, as calm voices analysed the issue like a talk during tea time,the paralytic realisation struck - to be hung helpless as puppets on strings of some power, helpless to do nothing but yap about the misery, attacked by rage and guilt. Still in shock, I remembered I still got an exam the next day.
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