100% pure pseudo-intellectualism

A review of the past 969 days!

2011-09-25T03:36:00.001-07:00

Folks, I realize it’s been quite a while since my last post on my blog (24^th Jan 2009 to be precise). Hence thought of taking a moment to reflect on what has changed since then. And this is the subject of mylatest post:

· Demographics:

o ~68million babies were born in India (~70,000 babies per day * 969 days). Many of these kids now scream inflights.

· Economics/Finance:

o Sensex had crashed temporarily, trading at Rs. ~8,500in Jan 2009. It soared to 21,000 thereafter and now is back to 16,000-17,000levels. That means, if I invested Rs. 1,000 back then, I would be sitting on Rs.2,000 today (and about Rs. 2,500 at the peak). No, I did not invest.

o The world was just stepping out of recession and theeconomic outlook was turning positive. The world is staring at “double dip”recession today and potentially a fully-blown out global macroeconomic crisis.

· Politics:

o 2G scam, CWGscam, Hasan Ali money laundering scam,Bellary mines scam, Adarsh Housing Society scam, Lavasa scam, IPL scam, UP foodgrain scam, PF scam and many such big-ticket corruption cases one after theother greatly angered the people and India found a new hero in Anna Hazare (Anna Hazare sangharsh karo, hum tumhaaresaath hai!)

o Middle Eastern political landscape resembled the 90s(or perhaps the 80s): Osama bin Laden was alive, Egypt was run by HosniMobarak, Tunisia by Ben Ali, Syria by Bashar al-Assad and Libya by Col Gaddafi.Who would’ve thought these gentlemen would be powerless today (and running fortheir lives!)

· Sports:

o India won the World Cup with a six!

o Sachin hit another purple patch in his career, scoring200* in an ODI against South Africa. The God just got greater!

o Manchester United won two Premier Leagues and werefinalists in two Champions Leagues

· Tech:

o Facebook’s user base grew from 175 million to 850million!

o Groupon was a 2 month old company with 5 employeesthen. Today, some analysts peg its valuation at $25 billion!

o The world did not hear of iPads in Jan 2009 (not evenin Jan 2010)!

· Personal:

o In Jan 2009, I lived off my parents but was thePresident of my college and had people working “under” me. After graduating, Istarted earning. But I was “under” everyone in both the companies I have hadthe good fortune of working with.

o I took over 100 international flights between May 2010and May 2011 (and now pretend to be a seasoned traveler)

o I was single

I welcome yourfeedback/comments. I can also be reached at utsavmitra@hotmail.com

A mini-dossier on Elections '08

2009-01-24T02:31:00.000-08:00

Election date: 5^th September

Votes Polled: 324-370 (Aabhas - Utsav)

MOV: 46 (could easily have been a single digit margin tilted towards either side)

Election defining issues:

Internship Cell, Travellers, Crossroads screw-ups of previous years, hostel domination, canteen renovation, allegations of corruption etc

[Inset - Aabhas Khanna & Utsav Mitra, the two principal opposing forces]

_________________________________

7^th September:

As you already know, I’ve officially gained the bragging rights and I hereby announce that I have been elected the President of the Students’ Union after a rather keenly contested, closely followed, ultra-passionate election campaign. I would not get into a post-electoral analysis as to why we won and why they lost for two reasons –

1. It is always easy to dissect after the results are announced. As they say, everyone’s wise in posterity

2. A huge element of luck is always involved, which is conveniently ignored by seasoned psephologists of all hues and colors for all practical purposes

I fully understand that the chair brings enormous responsibility and would test my mettle at every turn in this journey. The feeling of victory was absolutely overwhelming, personally satisfying and professionally rewarding. Clearly, I would remember this electoral journey of mine for the rest of my life – being rewarded with a prestigious post for campaigning for my room-mate, elevating myself to the #1 presidential contender’s position, plotting a series of moves in advance, second-guessing the opponent (s), designing the electoral strategy at a macro and micro level, employing covert and overt campaigning tactics and finally the emotional rollercoaster that I underwent during the process. I fully owe my victory to a few people who I do not have any words to thank. A few friends went out of their way to render unconditional support to my team and certainly deserve immense gratitude from our end – Arvind Shankar, Ritesh Daga, Manish Sachdeva, Sushant Joshi and Kuldeep Kaushik among several others.

[Inset - My post-victory salute, this had almost become a trademark of our campaign]

Our campaign theme was largely centered on the demonstrated leadership track record and proven expertise in running college affairs that I, personally and my team possessed. The opposition had some passionate orators with them and well-dressed pom-pom girls to attract attention, but alas, no prior experience in managing events of such scale and magnitude. Their campaign was an Obamaesque pitch for change, which unfortunately for us, was gathering tremendous momentum and giving us more than just sleepless nights. We were ultra-paranoid about the prospect of losing, since we just had SO much to lose, while the opposition really had nothing much to lose. I would be lying if I said that it wasn’t a definite goal to lead the Students’ Union as its President in my 3^rd year, very early as a freshman. I had been gathering credentials, expertise and knowledge in both election management and running the affairs successfully post-victory, right since my first year. I would’ve seen my three year long aspiration annihilate and lost tonnes of self-confidence, if I lost.

[Inset - People from both camps catching every syllable of the election results while they are being announced]

Elections have excited me for many reasons and I thank everyone (including God) for handing me this opportunity. I admit, not everyone is fortunate enough to be seriously considered for even contesting, let alone winning. Handling pressure, negotiating, deal-making, coercion and taking tough calls are just some of the traits that I’ve acquired or got better at, all thanks to the electoral process. Democracy, if for nothing else, is important because it allows quite a few people in every batch to receive these lessons. Anyway, nothing much to add really in this piece, except that I shall remember the electoral process for as long as I live, for the right and the wrong reasons, and I thank each and every person who made our victory possible with due sincerity.

[Inset - People from our camp going nuts post victory]

(In)Finite Dilemmas

2007-03-10T11:35:00.000-08:00

(In)Finite Dilemmas…

Call them dilemmas, call them anxieties or coin your own term. The last few months have put me into deep thinking mode, every thought that pinches my mind every step I take, makes me think - the same thing. What will I be doing 5 years from now, 10 years from now and 20 years from now. And more importantly what I ACTUALLY want to do with my life. The Runaway Bride OST sung by U2 goes – “But I still haven’t find, what I’m looking for”. My predicament is, and that indeed is the big question - What do I really want?

All these years, I was supposed to be an IIT-ian Engineer, but as I found out, I wanted to be an IIT-ian first but had no option but be an Engineer (c’mon don’t tell me that they offer pure sciences and that they are worth doing) When I now look back at my coursework for IITJEE preparations, I laugh at myself, sometimes aloud. Was I studying fluid dynamics? Was I reading how nucleic acids and proteins interact? Was that exciting me by any sense of the term? Was I happy doing that? Would I have liked that as a career? I have very strong doubts. Throughout my life however I have been stronger (both in terms of aptitude and attitude) at Mathematics, English and Social Sciences (till class X). So come to think of it this way, Economics was much better for me as a career option, and now this is what I am doing. So screwing up IITJEE was might actually have been a blessing in disguise. Bloodlines alone don’t and shouldn’t dictate anyone’s future (Dad’s an IITian and hence that naturally meant I HAD to be one, no other option granted)

This whole year I’ve spent my time doing what I liked (wholly and fully). I’ve tried my hand at quizzing (good beginning, but a long treacherous road ahead), dramatics (sound tracks, but no real acting, I hope to continue) and devoted almost all the time organizing events for – Placement Cell, Debating Society, Commerce Society, Mathematics and Computers Society et al. I swear by God, that each and every non-academic thing that I did this year was AMAZING, and I must admit, three years of extensive IIT Prep killed many of my so-called-creative-talents, and some of them (thankfully) have suddenly found a new lease of life, like writing, and reading magazines, journals, books and blogs. My violin got me a Mr. Talented tag during the Freshers for the record, and positive events around me have kept me both busy and happy.

Now of course, there’s a problem of another kind. I just haven’t studied for the entire year – a couple of weeks during Home Examinations notwithstanding. Now suddenly I wake up, it is a couple of weeks into March and the exams begin early April. A hydra-headed monster called Final Examination suddenly stares down upon me in the most bloodthirsty manner, and I don’t have any weapons to fight it. I stand completely unarmed. But then, is assuming the Final Exams a hydra-headed monster an overestimation? Is it really worth all the hype? Does anyone care how much you’ve scored in the first year of your graduation? Does anyone say – “Mr. X pursued his under-graduation from SRCC and he scored a 72.4% in his first year!”? Well, not that I’ve heard of. So the question is, “In the long run do the first year scores really matter”? And my answer is definitely NO! Should you pass and try scoring a ‘decently’? Yes, but decently shouldn’t mean obscenely. What’s the point sacrificing the much-touted-for ‘college-life’ for a few extra percents in your final exams? How many people have I not seen crib as they “Didn’t make most of their college life” as they “Only Studied!” and that the “Time has all gone” What’s important is living life to the fullest, making the most of what comes our way. College life is the stage when boys turn to men, when leaders emerge out of ordinary folks, when your creative talents are put to the limits, when you compete with the very best in the country in sports, debating, drama etc, when the idealism of youth is actually put to practice, where dreams are dreamt and act as springboards for future. If all this is to be put on hold, just because someone wants slog his way up to the topper’s charts, at the expense of all this, may God give him some sense!

I’m not saying – “Don’t give a damn and fail!” Absolutely not! But the message should be taken in the right spirit. This is the age to dream, and ask yourself what you want. This is the age to know what your passions are, so that you can later turn it into your profession. Wouldn’t turning your passion into your profession be an absolute delight? Every successful person you meet or hear of had it all planned in his or her early years. Jamsetji Tata always had an entrepreneurial zeal in him, Shahrukh Khan always wanted to be a movie star, Sachin Tendulkar always wanted to play for India, Ronaldinho always wanted to win the World Cup. The word to note is ‘always’. Think of something that you ‘always’ wanted to do or would want to do it for a career. Think of how you want to be remembered when you leave the world. And your answers will emerge. Remember, it is just that much necessary to study so as to enable you entry to the biggest and best institutions in the world, where you would meet the brightest people and know how they plan, what they think and how they act. If that requires effort, put that in. For example: Studying for your GMAT for the much-coveted HBS seat would matter in the long run; studying for IITJEE for the entry into the IITs would matter in the long run so on and so forth… The only thing to probe is what you want to do and how you see yourself achieving that goal of yours.

Taking a very personal example: Do I like Economics? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt. Do I see myself as a Member of the Planning Commission 35 years later, spending my life researching about an obscure topic and earning a pittance? Impossible, NEVER! Do I want to see myself as a person with amazing leadership capacity, excellent organizational ability, good awareness of the world around, great communication and interpersonal skills wanting to pursue an MBA from an Ivy League University with a good base in Economics? Oh hell yeah. So would my first year percentage during under-graduation matter? (Provided I don’t screw it up very badly that is) Not at all! But will all the non-academic yet exceedingly important skills naturally come to me if I just kept slogging for five extra percents? I don’t think so!

So there you are and there I am! Yes, I need to study; yes I need to score ‘decently’ (the word again!) But should that be at the expense of something I care, at the expense of something I cherish? I don’t think so!

Anyway, is the DU Economics degree exceptionally good by any standard? Any? No. It is an average course. There are a lot of things that we should know of, that are covered, but yes, just covered. And then there are a plethora of things that are just not touched upon. Nothing that makes you think, and this is what lacks. Is there any incentive for a student to study the MIT Courseware to know what he’s missing? Or to read The Economist or the WSJ to keep himself abreast with what’s actually going on in the world, and how the economics we study is actually working there in the real world? No. This violates even the first principle of economics that we studied – “Human beings respond to incentives” Sometimes a student who writes that tad bit extra is penalized. The reason? “That wasn’t mentioned in the book. You first write what’s given in the book. Then write other things.” But what if his example is better? Sorry, you can’t write that… this is DU. What if your paper is corrected by some teacher in the Ramlal Anand college, who hasn’t even heard of the Wall Street? So, come to think of it, even reading economics might not help. You just have to read the prescribed books and give those very examples when asked. No other information is warranted. Is it how we want tomorrow’s Indians to be? Well, I’m not asking any more questions.

But then, am I enjoying whatever I’m being taught here? The ‘important’ subjects (and I include English among them)…YES! So should I be studying a bit more than I presently am? Yes, considering that I don’t have any other ‘constructive’ thing to do, and that a few extra percents wouldn’t obviously hurt me in anyway, and can only help me, maybe I should actually give studying a try. So was all this exercise futile? No, no… It made me think. The infinite dilemmas certainly seem finite now.

I just figured out, as I went along writing this down and as I rambled along, I guess I found a few answers hidden somewhere beneath these lines. I atleast am able to fix a few pieces up the jigsaw puzzle of my life. Now, I see hope and I see light. The cerebral masturbation might just have helped!

PS: Though I meandered around points and ideas, and vagabondize the entire piece, it categorically put a lot of things in perspective. I am no one to advice other people, after all what credentials do I have? However, I felt that, there might be others facing a similar predicament, and might be groping for excuses. Here were mine, but I somehow reached a few answers (inadvertently albeit)

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part VI

2007-01-20T01:16:00.000-08:00

Part VI: Hostel Freshers (A Day of Cruel Kindness...)

So the day arrived… the 24th of September 2006 – the day of our Hostel Freshers’ Party. This was the day the 1st Year hostellers (fuchchas) were eagerly, anxiously and desperately awaiting. On this very day was supposed to be ‘the worst one hour’ of our lives and following the – the best two and a half years – hence the apprehension. We heard a lot of these so-called ‘horror’ stories, but I for one, took them lightly. So what exactly happened that day…to know that, read on!

After lunch on that day, three of us were called into the hostel cultural secretary’s room, to blow a hundred odd balloons. I never had the idea that I could actually blow about 70 balloons single-handedly, well, that’s a different story. After some silly stuff (putting balloons inside your T-shirt and asking someone to fondle etc….), we were all sent to our block to take bath and dress up ‘formally’ as the Principal and the Warden were supposed to address us. After the surprisingly informal speech thoroughly punctuated by cheeky comments and feel-good one-liners, we had delicious food in the mess (for once!!!).The normal food in the mess equips you to face any sort of food in life, so that’s not all that bad too (isn’t it?) The reason was – caterers had come from outside (lol). The ceremony ‘formally’ concluded when we gave away the Best Senior Awards – one from the 2nd year and one from the 3rd. But as I said, the ceremony ‘formally’ ended, now the ‘real’ thing started. The seniors gave Mr. And Miss Fuchcha (yes! Miss Fuchcha in a boys’ hostel) titles. The Miss Fuchcha is by the way supposed to strip off, wear pink lingerie and also do disgusting stuff like blow condoms and pose for photographs (being that awfully clad). It sounds nauseating…but believe me, it’s awesome fun. Thereafter we were informed of the ‘dress-code’ in which we were supposed to be attired in, for the movie that we’d planned to go.
So the ‘dress-code’…what exactly is it? Here it goes – Formal full-sleeve shirt with one sleeve rolled up, Bermudas (or shorts) with a belt worn over, the shirt tucked in from one side and not from the other, a shoe-polish ‘teeka’, well-oiled (not gelled) hair with a pony-tail and footwear – formal shoe on the right and a hawai chappal on the left. We were all excited and embarrassed to the same measure and took loads of photos as well.

The ‘worst one-hour’ was just about to begin – the dreaded ‘kicking session’. We queued up, one by one, boldly. The tradition is that, after you receive the kick from a particular senior, you needn’t address him as ‘sir’, not just that you can even call him by his nickname (assigned either by us or by his batch mates). But wait…all this was supposed to happen after each one of us got sixty (yes, sixty!!!) bone-jarring kicks on our posterior. Seniors basically compete on who’s kick was the hardest – they take long run-ups, all of them wear shoes and give one power kick…the immediate expression is ‘Ahhhhhh….’ Or a profanity (can’t type them here) and then the senior hugs you, introduces himself and then welcomes you to the hostel. The same thing repeats for the next 59 times, and if you just happen to be the ‘favourite fuchcha’ of some senior, he can give you any number of kicks he wants to. I fortunately (or unfortunately in this case), happened to be a favourite of quite a few seniors and thereby received many more than my batch-mates. After the kicks none was able to move, let alone walk or sit and travel in the bus for the movie which we’d planned to see. Taking baby-steps, crawling and limping, we somehow got in to the bus at a snail’s pace and started teasing the seniors (for the first time by the way). The seniors (obviously feeling helpless) had this to say – ‘Uchlo beta! Ab tumhara hi mauka hai’ (Jump, my boy, it’s your turn now). We called the seniors by their nicknames and raised slogans like – ‘Sabse bada haraami aaja, Raja Raja’ or ‘Hawas ka pujari kaun, Aman Aman’ or simply ‘Kedia loves Tina, Kedia loves Tina’ (let me not reveal anything more for now…. lol)

For once, we forgot that our buttocks were all sore and red and we weren’t actually being able to sit…. until a monstrous speed breaker arrived and we were thrown out of our seats, we screamed and yelled at the driver for that – poor guy, he had no idea what we were going through. We had to be carried out of the bus into the theatre (literally almost) and the on-lookers were dumbstruck looking at our ensemble. Obviously understanding that we were being ragged, they asked us what we study and from where…. The answer, in unison was “STEPHEN’S”. The irony was that, it wasn’t planned. The movie was a drab bore and I slept through. Again, as per tradition, we were taken to India Gate to have ice creams and we returned by about 3 AM.
Just if you thought that all ends here…you’re absolutely wrong! Now was the time for the ‘Cosmetic Surgery’ – toothpaste, gum, oil, talcum powder, deodorant, pickle, creams etc were all poured and applied generously to our hair (and pubes), and man…does it burn! We took bath in chilly cold water at 4 in the morning and most caught cold. Very few actually attended classes the next day (I was one of the few who did…) and I limped for the next 4 days.
So this was our Hostel Freshers’ – sleazy, messy, outrageous, sometimes even inhuman…. yet fun.
Don’t you think so?

PS: I'd love to give you a few pictures, but would I be allowed to?

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part V

2007-01-20T00:25:00.000-08:00

Part V: Dance Til Ya Drop Dead!

As earlier mentioned, we the fuchchas were desperately awaiting the Freshers Parties. It is a three-day affair. The theme for the first day is traditional Indian ensemble and the day is referred to in common parlance as ‘Ethnic Freshers’.
A day prior to the gaiety, we (hostellers) slogged it out in the auditorium. We moved all those super-heavy, sordid benches to make place for us to dance the next day… that job was seriously excruciating. And to top it all, we actually mopped (jhadoo-pocha) the floors of the entire auditorium. What an ordeal! This being the first day of our festivities, all of us were geared up. Most girls had innumerable trips to the beauty parlour (thereby giving the industry a boost) and just looked gorgeous. The elegance was there to be seen; I for one was certainly floored (and bowled over) by quite a few of them (no, no names please!!!). Not wanting to be overshadowed, we (guys) too took the best out of our wardrobes, and did whatever little to augment a few shades of our skin tone and tried to appear much better than we normally do. Our ‘normal’ look is very well known however. Most of us being aesthetically challenged, the best we could do was asking for suggestions and follow them. We ended up picking up those sherwanis or jodhpuris or kurta-pyjamas. Luckily the colour combinations aren’t left for us to decide!!!
The bridegroom look suited most of us though. The party as usual started ‘fashionably late’. The moment we entered the auditorium, we were shocked…literally! The look we’re used to in the auditorium is your idea of a complete disaster. But to see all disco lights flashing, and that loud, blaring music from the speakers…it was like, where have I come? There were several circles that people formed. One was a DramSoc circle, there were about two hostel circles, and most other circles were those comprising say ten common friends. Those belonging to more than one circle hopped and danced like wild animals or criminals just let loose. The wilder, the better! The fact I have two left feet was the last of my concerns for that day. After two hours of non-stop dancing, and playing mock-dandiya, they announced a ‘Talent Hunt’ round. The fuchchas were supposed to perform anything that they consider themselves good at. Yours truly won it after he played his violin.
We were back to dancing yet again. Hostellers as usual, start most of the uncanny activities. This time, it was formation of a hostel-train that culminated at the stage, and all the hostellers assembled on the stage, exhibiting their rowdiness like there’s no tomorrow. The pasticcio that we left the place in needs no description I suppose. There was a ‘Best-Couple’ title as well. Pairing up was the rule (Pauli’s exclusion principle notwithstanding). I got one too! The title however was decided only on the dancing skills. And as already mentioned, people will two left feet shouldn’t expect prizes (atleast in dancing!!!). The Freshers’ party was an opportunity to make loads your friend's friends your own friends. I got introduced to so many people, and I’m now closer to some of the introduced more than the introducer was to the introduced itself. I made most of the occasion, and welcomed many more people into my world of friends. There was also ample scope for transforming some of your acquaintances into your friends. The overwhelming applause and support I got from the crowd after my performance was truly humbling, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. So for everyone in general, and me in particular, this was a day to remember. Second day was the fresher party organized by the ‘Students Union’. So this was the ‘bigger’ party. The theme for the afternoon was Summer Wear. Today, people didn’t go the extra mile doing make-up or trying to save the beauty parlour industry from bankruptcy. I had my first tryst with dudity (a word coined by me!). Gelled my hair, spiked it up, and looked weird (the picture should give you an idea of the bout of temporary insanity I was suffering from). I was quite a head-turner though (albeit in a different sense). Again the same routine followed, dancing till you drop, (and for me, that meant, as audaciously as I possibly could). The Mr. And Miss Fresher titles were decided too. These two were basically the Fresher parties organized by the college for all students. To know what happens to hostellers, read on…

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part IV

2007-01-20T00:10:00.000-08:00

Part IV: A Tryst with Elections and Politics...

One afternoon in the last week of August, the ENTIRE hostel was called to the field; we wondered what was wrong, as till then such an exercise was never conducted. We were asked to bunk classes (if at all), bunk DramSoc, bunk anything that we would otherwise do at that moment on a normal day, and assemble at the field, and then were made to switch off our cell phones as well. So all this only added to the apprehension. But things emerged pretty soon. The seniors briefed us up about the College Elections that are conducted every year, and then they told us whom they nominated as candidates for the posts of President and Secretary of the respective societies, the students union etc. The highest one is the President of the College Students Union. The societies are: ComSoc (Commerce Society), EcoSoc (Economics Society), ELS (English Literary Society), HSS (Hindi Sahitya Sabha), HPS (History and Political Science Society)…there are other ones too – Fine Arts, Mathematics and Computer Science Society etc.

The DramSoc and DebSoc however don’t hold elections; they simply nominate their heads. We had a good look of who was presenting his candidature…not that we cared, but it’s just that everything was so new then. We never faced ‘serious’ elections like these before; the ones at school were nowhere this intense. Everything seemed planned and coordinated and hence, every decision of theirs was put out to us as unanimous. We being the inexperienced fuchchas that we are, took everything on face value. Until, two of my friends and me were called to a restaurant, fed well, and given a glimpse of the ‘other side’ of the story. We were told how the ‘internals’ (a typical election jargon – it’s the process of deciding on who stands up for which post) were all ‘stage-managed’ and that these guys (the ones who treated us) got a raw deal. The three of us were perplexed for quite sometime, and we decided to call an ‘internal meeting’ of our own. This however would involve only our batch mates. The initial buzz around the elections being very high, everyone turned up. We discussed whom we felt should stand up, and tried understanding the intricacies of this political maze. We are however given no right to choose (as per hostel tradition). We are supposed to support whom the seniors ask us to, irrespective of his eligibility, capability etc. And considering that in all the years earlier, there was always a single panel from the hostel, there was never a doubt of our allegiance. This year, unfortunately, there were two panels from the hostel. Both of them were right in their own ways, and we were supposed to vote and campaign united. This was however the tough part. We love our seniors, and asking us to choose was a thing unacceptable to us. We spoke to both camps, at a micro level and the macro level as well, to somehow bridge gaps between them. But things couldn’t fall in place. The instructions were loud and clear: 1. Choose one panel and support it unanimously 2. Make sure that ultimately a hosteller alone wins (for he has worked the hardest and will continue to do so) But choosing which panel to support was THE task on hand. Both camps would come to our block, brainwash us for hours to the point of making us all agreeing to their stand. The pendulum swings of opinion were just there to be seen. After a particular session by say Camp A, the entire junior block would be with them. Then immediately, after the Camp B’s address, the entire block would be with them. There was no consistency of opinion. Every time new points would be raised, more questions to be answered, and more skeletons out of the cupboards. This just went on and on…every night, till 2 AM or 3 AM even at times. When we realized that it was time to give our opinions, as a batch, to preserve ‘batch-unity’ (an oxymoron actually) and to ensure that there are no further flip-flops and that the actual election strategy can be engineered. I just sent out an sms, asking my batch mates’ opinion on an open debate, between the candidates…it was just a crazy idea, but I never for once thought that it would actually turn out to be the case. Surprisingly, ALL those I messaged agreed, and one by one, we had these debates. After each debate, we (the juniors) were supposed to vote (secretly) and then the majority verdict would be followed. This was done to ensure that our respective allegiances weren’t known to our seniors and so that some unanimity in the decision is brought. Let me now bug you with all the details…but quite a few uncomfortable details came out during these debates. Horrible allegations, and counter-allegations, points and counter-points…. we’ve seen them all now, and verified them as well. In spite of our calls for unanimity, the batch ultimately got divided for a few days…into these two camps. I won’t comment on whom our batch chose for which post, after all the majority rules (isn’t it?). I’ll spare you all the details lest you feel like pressing Alt+F4. We campaigned - which meant introducing the candidates to our peer-groups, smsing them, calling them up, buttering them, writing the names of the candidates on the black-boards, speaking highly of them - in full force, and were somehow supposed to ensure that we bring in their votes. The equations were simple…700 votes are polled normally. There are 120 hostellers. All hostellers will vote together…and assuming each hosteller brings in atleast two more dayski (slang for day-scholar) votes, which accounts for 120+120*2=360…. majority!!! The hosteller has won. Simple enough, isn’t it? That’s precisely the reason, why a hosteller always wins. The 7th of September was the Speech Day, on this day, all the candidates were supposed to make their last ditch effort at capturing the neutral votes. The actual voting was supposed to be on the 8th of September. Each of us sent 50 odd text messages to our friends…somehow trying to influence them to vote for those whom we were supporting. After the rather easy voting process (we used EVMs), all we had to do was to wait…and this wait turned out to be one of the longest, yet most interesting waits of our lives. The DramSoc crowd too was waiting for the result, and so was the hostel crowd… that meant two huge, noisy, fun-loving groups together. Five of us were common to both the groups, and we had the MAX fun. We sang lallas, cheered, carried out mock-processions…it was just full on BC (sorry, can’t expand!). One of the lallas for a girl from my class (Eco) and my roomie in the hostel (B.Com)…both of them were so terribly embarrassed…that it’s to be seen to be believed. And there’s also a spicy term for a B.Com guy falling for an Eco girl (or vice versa)…. It’s called an ‘intercourse’ relation… pun (un) intended!!! After the results were declared, we embraced each other and just ran back to our rooms, to change clothes for the first of our election parties. It was in the canteen…we were made to stand topless (we’re guys, don’t worry!) on the tables and cheer, howl, shriek and shout out slogans. While we do all that, litres of cold drinks are poured on us…we actually took bath in cold drinks (last heard – over 150 litres of cold drinks were used). The slogans were all rhythmic (with foot tapping and all) – ‘Arre College Presi kaisa ho, Pratyush Kumar jaisa ho’ Our voices actually cracked after all the vociferous screaming and sloganeering. Every single thing was photographed, for us to cherish. Immediately after that, we were asked to put on our shirts and go for the ‘Victory Lap’ (see the adjoining picture) That party however was arguably the most enjoyable one of life (and the most tiring too). Oh, I just missed out on the DUSU (Delhi University Students’ Union) elections, may be because it seriously didn’t matter to us, who won … ABVP or NSUI. The others (SFI, INSO, USF and the like) stood no chance, and that was pretty obvious. Both the student bodies heavily bribed us though. Don’t get surprised… no cash was offered. It’s just that any food we ordered would come at our doorsteps, any amount of soft drinks, and any amount of hard drinks too. We shamelessly hogged like gluttons. We actually had a two-dinner regime for a few days…the ‘normal’ dinner at 8 and the ‘bribe’ at 11.30. We waited for the second one (obviously!!!). One evening, there was no water in the hostel cooler, and we just called the NSUI guy up, and we just had enormous amounts of soft drinks ready at our disposal!!! But really, no one actually cared about who won the DUSU elections, we were more bothered about the free treats (and they were always welcome!) The second election party was on the Sunday evening. It was not a teetotaler party however though. Liquor flowed like water on that evening. And so many of my friends went ‘talli’ and started uttering non compos mentis (leading to ridiculous situations). We were astounded to find some guys drink inconceivable quantities and with élan…guys whom no one thought would even mouth alcohol. So that was one day to remember…it doubtlessly was.

PS: You are not allowed to magnify the first image, or ask for more of that sort!

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part III

2007-01-20T00:07:00.000-08:00

Part III: Ragging? Naa... say PDP

I already spoke about the fear-factor that haunted us…the ever-beguiling (and over-hyped) term…RAGGING. We started getting a feel of it at its premature stages itself…right from the second day of college. We were taught (or should I say - trained) everything though…what to say, how to say, what to do and how to do. The ‘lessons’ were never direct; they’d only give a subtle hint… that would enable us to get the answer. The first ‘lesson’ to be learnt was – Hostel Rules. We were supposed to enquire and find out. The catch was – no hostel senior would spell them out and no day-scholar would know. So the right way was to assume and grope for answers…and if the seniors were convinced that we made an effort, they’d tell us the rules, and ask someone to teach everyone. Thereafter, if anyone doesn’t answer, he’ll be put on the rack. We were made to perform some other activities also (parental advisory…read at your own peril)…like abusing each other as harshly as possible, seducing a tree with ‘emotions’, performing gay-scenes (luckily with clothes on), and had to play many other gross games. One of them is KBC, another is Colgate, and they’re more nameless games too. Can’t describe KBC (hint…we’re supposed to answer questions)…. too obscene to be put up on a family-blog like mine. Colgate is atleast describable – one guy is supposed to apply toothpaste on his teeth, and the other guy is supposed to suck it out (yuckkkkk, yes!!!). There’re rules and tricks for all games (which I won’t give away…waiting for fuchchas next year!!!)

Trust me, after the initial disgust (and cringing), we realized that all these games were actually entertaining…may be our standards took nose-dives or whatever, but towards the later part, we actually used to laugh them off, and do everything sportingly (that’s the key to everything here…. a very important lesson for life).
There’s another facet of ragging (it shouldn’t be called so here atleast, and luckily it’s not)…it is called PDP (Personality Development Programme). We were made to bring forms (for CA, CAT, IIFT etc) and movie tickets and withdraw money from ATMs, and get railway reservations done (note the ands…it isn’t a typographical error), from far-flung places in Delhi. The good part about it is that you’re reimbursed all costs (transport, calling etc), and are given ‘refreshment’ too (we called it ‘pagaar’ or ‘tips’ however). We learnt quite a few things in the process (and some the hard-way). I for one, never withdrew money from an ATM, almost never traveled alone (let alone in an alien city like Delhi), never haggled for prices, never stood in railway queues etc, before coming here…and it’s all been an experience. The goof-ups notwithstanding (there were few…not denying that), the PDP thing really gave us a lot. We now know no fear (want proofs?)… Singing the hostel pledge (can’t write it here - ask the hostellers how holy the lyrics are…) standing in the middle of the road requires guts, walking up to unknown girls in college and proposing also requires intrepidity. So all in all, we gained, and this ‘ragging-period’ will supposedly ‘equip us for life’ (to quote a senior). There were certain unwritten (obviously…) rules that were imposed. Wishing the seniors whenever we see them, addressing them as ‘sir’; wearing formals to class, not being allowed to carry a bag, not being allowed to sit in the first bench etc. There were a few practical concessions though (and we thank them for these) – we needn’t wish them, if we are with our girlfriends or classmates (lest we feel embarrassed).
The one thing bugging was these ‘where are you? Come to room no. 28 immediately’ sort of messages. The best thing was to ignore them, and if at all reprimanded, claim that you’re phone was on silent mode and that you didn’t see (ha ha ha). The innumerable amounts of water we had to fill was another pain. The moment a senior spotted one of us in their block, he would hand over his bottle, and then others their bottles, vessels, or containers (or whatever) …and ask us to fill them up. I on a certain day, filled as many as 21 bottles at once!!! (And this for someone, who never even had to even take water himself from the fridge).
All this was supposed to terminate after the Hostel Freshers’ Party, which always seemed an eternity away.

PS: Ragging is officially banned, hence can't put pictures up....

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part II

2007-01-19T23:45:00.000-08:00

Part II: Feeling College Life...

A few days into the college, quite a few mental barriers had already been crushed…we now openly discussed our crushes (among other things…both in class as well as the hostel), and as expected, most crushes clashed! We were getting used to Rajiv Jha (I wish I had his pic!)…our impressive-from-the-first-instant Eco teacher, his accent, his mannerisms, his way of teaching…his everything. Speaking of crushes, quite a few girls actually had a crush on him (and serious ones, you should’ve seen the intensity with which they confessed, it showed on their faces. Of course, they laughed it off later…) The other teachers, Priyanka Bhatia…our statistics teacher, looks straight out of a magazine cover(how I wish I had her picture!)…my eyes would light up every time she’d come to class…and my classmates would sms me – See Utsav, she’s wearing pink today or look, she’s looking gorgeous…and I’d blush. (Ok, I’m no exception…it’s only that I’m a bit public about it…lots

of girls are after Amit Sachdeva and Rajiv Jha as well, as mentioned…) Other teachers were alright, if only they made the classes a bit more fun. Our organizational skills got a shot-in-the-arm after we organized…mass-bunks (yes! What did you think I’d say?) Things like these were COMPLETELY unimaginable in our good-old school days. Now we started gelling well with our classmates, 6 of us formed a ‘Sing-Soc’ (a now redundant, singing society…it was fully-functional for 3 days)…more than enhancement of our singing abilities (which was never an intention anyway), I made good buddies with the other five…and I found out that I was seriously pathetic in remembering lines. The name was a rip-off of the other ‘functioning’ societies…DramSoc (Dramatics Society), DebSoc (Debating society) etc. Oh…speaking about DramSoc…on the first day of classes, 5 odd guys came to our class speaking about what the DramSoc does, what it doesn’t…how much fun it’ll be etc…and the way they spoke…most of us were drawn towards it…it was a different story that most of us hadn’t even acted or done anything close to theatre or drama in school. There were two days of auditions(see the pic, how jam-packed it was)…all of us performed what we were asked to…some funnily, some boldly, some seriously, some dumbly, some horribly and some exceptionally well. The topics were quite interesting actually…we were given to read a short passage first in English and then in Hindi…and after that given a character…whom we had to portray in a matter of ten minutes…quite a few characters were out-of-the-box…and that only made things juicy…someone was asked to play a lesbian, another was made to play a guy who was caught watching porn by his dad, another girl had to play a rape-victim…there were some ‘stereotypical performances’ too (much to the dislike of ________)…but nonetheless, I’m sure the performances made the judges a lot to think about…and made their job tougher…the sheer number of applications to process itself must’ve been an arduous task. The short listed candidates’ names were put up on the notice board…and after a few days of auditions…we were called for a ‘workshop’. We were made to do what we called ‘military drills’ under the scorching sun…walking, running, sprinting…and some other physical drills. This apart, we were taught many things like eye-contact, saying clichéd dialogues like ‘I love you’, ‘I hate you’ etc to everyone you see around…with emotions! The first three days of that ‘workshop’ left me tanned…thereafter (thanks to the Rain Gods)…it was conducted in the auditorium…we were practicing eye-contact, facial expressions, co-ordination and a lot of other things…. in no time, we could ourselves feel the difference. To ensure that everything isn’t monotonic, we regularly had these little things, where everyone’s creativity was put to the razor’s edge…ad-mad, 5-word dramatization, machine-construction, prop-up etc. Ad-mad is a concept where we’ll have to sell a product (no matter how outlandish… black-toothpaste for example)…the most talked about one was…selling Aproop (a stud senior), it was fun however, all the way. The 5-word dramatization was a concept which basically is…we were divided into groups of six, and we were randomly told to choose 5 words…and construct a play in 5 minutes…with those 5 words as the core-theme. Our group (it turned out Sing-Soc members…) chose 5 emotions…and we pulled it off well…there was a much-talked about lesbian scene in our play…that still lingers on people’s minds (kudos to Anisha and Girija…you looked REAL), the machine-construction was an innovative concept…someone’s name would be randomly called, he’d have to come on stage and pretend to do something…then another name will be called, and he’d have to build on to that, without however communicating, everything’s supposed to be impromptu, and the process continues…the final machine (gadget) should be identifiable . This was I guess the toughest thing in the entire workshop. Some light-hearted discussion or a song or a lalla (a typical DramSoc phrase…it’s sung by everyone about someone, who’s perceived to have been bowled over in love) always offset the serious stuff that we were put through. Finally, we were given three days of time and were asked to prepare a 5 minute solo play…and on any subject of our choice. This was supposedly the D-Day, after which we’d be categorized into English Stage Play, Hindi Stage Play and Street Play teams. All of us prepared our parts, and hoped for the best. The main reason why I pushed myself harder was I wanted to get into the English Stage Play team…primary reason being – no practicing in the sun. I played a jehadi terrorist who’s being interrogated…after my performance; the response garnered was truly overwhelming…I found myself on cloud 9…there were many great performances that day but one word from the judges made my day (So much so for modesty!)… The ‘results’ were announced in an hour or so…and yippee! I got into the English Stage Play team (they say, my tone of my epidermis has lightened ever since…what compliments!) Our ‘informal’ interactions gained momentum and slowly, all DramSocers (members of DramSoc) bonded so well (some ionic, some covalent, some lattice, some valence and some Van der Waal’s…ah, another sick PJ)…that it now seems that we know each other for years together. A typical DramSoc day starts at 1.30 (post-lunch)…we sit at the Xerox lawns on those steps, share tiffins, listen to music, chat, sing, howl, dance, pull each others’ legs and just have a ball…the lingo is ‘Vellapanti’. Ask any DramSocer and he’ll testify. And there’s Babulal on her (yes, her!, see the pic) royal seat, ever ready to give company. It’s a she by the way; don’t get into the trappings of a name (and gender). Then we go to our respective camps and ‘serious’ practice starts. That was DramSoc for you.

PS:
Babulal and DramSoc auditions pics are courtesy Shanky

Mission Admission and Beyond - Part I

2007-01-19T23:20:00.000-08:00

Part I: Genesis of College Life

The earlier blog (Haridwar one…have you read it??) was at the focal point of all the hustle-bustle of the admission process. (For your information, I got into Shri Ram College of Commerce, Delhi in the Economics Hons. Stream, see the picture, that's my college!). This was the assuage that my parents needed…they didn’t want any more of the uncertainty (I’ll tell you why, read on). My near and dear ones were gladdened as I got into “a great college like SRCC”. Hailing from Hyderabad, the accommodation was always a sticky-issue; most suggested me to take the hostel. We were told that there were only 3 berths from the entire Economics stream in the first year in the General Category…so that only added to my mom’s jitteriness. We had to clear an interview (ugh...another one), which I luckily did (else would I mention it here???) After clearing the hostel interview, we were given the luxury of choosing our roommates and the rooms too (this supposedly wasn’t there earlier). After lots of permutations and combinations, I chose a triple seater room with two other guys from Calcutta. The room incidentally (or otherwise) is easily the best one in the block, and yes, Lady Luck smiled, and we got it!!
Both guys (commercies, by the way) are toppers of their respective schools and have got these obscene marks in their Class XII, so I was constantly thanking Lady Luck (I love you…. are you single???) After all these (college, accommodation etc) were set, we flew back to Hyderabad and as expected had “royal treatment” for a few days (you know why…son’s going far away to study, so lots of pampering and all…) We spent a few days shopping for essentials (some of which turned out to be luxuries…) and then the day of my departure arrived. Mom (expectedly) didn’t want to leave me alone, and she came all the way to Delhi to ensure that I do things rightly and settle down smoothly (mom na…understand!). But mind you, she left three days before college began…she sort of dumped me at Delhi and returned to Hyderabad… which in effect meant, that I had to do EVERYTHING on my own (and I did that…)

The much longed “college life” was nearer than I ever thought. The first day (15th of July) was an “Orientation Programme” for us (fuchchas…freshmen in SRCC lingo). All of us reported well in-time, and I (atleast) was scanning through the crowd looking for known faces…found my room-mates there…and some other people whom I met during admissions…being the extrovert I am, I initiated the talks…asked them from where they were, what they liked etc. The programme, however, was languid. Classes were supposed to begin on the 17th. We noted down the timetables on the 15th and reported accordingly on the 17th. The first class was an introduction class basically, our HoD (Dr. AJC Bose) came to our class taught us a few college rules (never to wish teachers when they come to class, never to stand etc…the startling contrast with school was apparent in the first hour itself) and asked us to answer precisely three questions crisply
1. Your name and where you’ve come from (not percentages!!!)
2. Which book you’re reading at the moment or which incident of late has stirred you up
3. What you want to do in life
We got interesting (and a few amusing) replies from everyone…someone considered researching (on game-theory) as a career trajectory, someone desired to get into the UN or the WB, someone else said he ‘learns from films’, someone emphatically announced that she ‘hates’ reading books, another funny proclamation was someone who wanted to be the ‘King of the Universe’…responses varied from the wacky to the weird to the super-serious to the super-dumb…I immediately got a rough idea of my class…that it’s fun, and that it has the potential to have a plethora of intriguing conversations (which can soon go out of hand as most of us seemed to suffer from insanity, or just that our ideas seem to bizarre and obscure).
Remembering names however, was a problem initially. There were many goof-ups and screw-ups…but it took three odd days for the names to register.
To my astonishment, most of my classmates turned out to be the IIT-reject, Stephen’s-reject material…just like me, so I had company, and solace… and obviously acted as though the grapes were ACTUALLY sour. (Ok, no more reminding that we didn’t make it through to the IITs…it’s a bad dream for us at SRCC)

The first three odd afternoons were spent exploring the campus with my hostel mates(this is the pic of the hostel, our new home), we went in groups actually, we dreaded the R-word (Ragging)…we heard lots of spine-chilling stories in the TV and read them in the newspapers…so obviously the fear-factor was immense. So our logic was that if we move around in flocks, the perceived damage done would be minimized. You’ll know what exactly we faced as you read along…it’s interesting, delighting, disgusting, nauseating, yet fun…and all to the same magnitude…you’ll also read what we “gained” from ragging (yes, we gained a lot…trust me!)

The author can be reached at utsavmitra@hotmail.com

To 'Holy' Places and back

2006-07-09T09:59:00.000-07:00

Amidst my turn of Mission Admission, in Delhi, there was a two-day free slot. It wasn’t exactly planned, but then it wasn’t totally unexpected too. My father and I, then quickly thought of ‘visitable’ places in and around Delhi. The one and only factor in mind was heat, nothing else. Delhi was almost like a furnace, we somehow wanted to get out of it, as soon as possible. We first thought of places in Uttar Pradesh - Agra, Mathura etc., immediately, I was reminded that it was even hotter there, added to that were dust, pollution and overpopulation. We promptly chucked the UP plan. The picture of UP in our minds wasn’t exactly inviting. So Amar Singh and Mulayam Singh, you’ve got work to do! Then I suggested Shimla. That too for some reason, still unknown to me, didn’t find an endorsement from my father.

We finally agreed upon Haridwar and Hrishikesh. These places were supposedly very beautiful, peaceful etc. Lots of positive, a few bombastic, adjectives were used to get my approbation. I just wanted, somehow, to exit Delhi. So even Arctic Circle would find my sanction. There was no need of cajoling me.
So, on the 23^rd of June, we set off to the bus-station in Delhi. It is called ISBT. After we somehow reached there, in an auto and then a rickety rickshaw, we assumed that it would be like the bus-stations we have here, in the South. How preposterous was that assumption! It was (and still is, I’m sure) a sordid, messy place, with people running helter-skelter, shouting all sorts of slogans. The ‘Inquiry’ room was locked. Someone said, almost philosophically, “Sahib! Yahaan, aisa hi hota hai” We were lost in that chaos. If I were to coin a phrase for it, it would be this - cacophonic and slatternly. It was nothing less, nothing more. We somehow figured out, which bus to board, where to get the tickets etc. from the vendors, paan-wallahs etc. The distance, we were told was nearly 170 kilometers. We assumed, again wrongly, that it could be completed in 4 hours at most. We are used to the highways in the south, so giving 4 hours was liberal enough. The bus left at 1.30 PM and reached at 7.45 PM, which means, more than 6 hours! Why it was so, and why that was supposedly usual, let me elaborate.

The bus looked like a big, wobbly box, somehow put together, with an engine. Add to that, the roads. The roads in Delhi really impressed me - clean, broad and beautiful. I expected the same from the highways. But, as was the case, it was the exact reverse. It was a mucky, thin and an awful ‘highway’. Even taking a Mercedes, wouldn’t help. The top speed you could gain was may be, 50 kmph. Our bus waded through the narrow highway, at such a pace, that you’d feel that walking was a better option. It is not that the roads are actually narrow. The problem is that half of it is either broken or encroached upon. To make matters worse, was the heat. It was 40° C and the sun was blazing like never before. And the conditions were further hostile especially to me, because the seat I got, faced the sun continuously, and I wasn’t allowed to close the window. So the sun was lashing down on my cheeks, to the point of baking it. The ordeal continued because, the sun just wouldn’t set, even at 7.30 PM! I kept cursing my luck, the weather, the roads, the government, the authorities, and everything continually during the entire journey, or should I say, tribulation. The one exception was when the bus stopped for food. It was expensive yes, but was a relief. I drank water from the tube-well. The surprisingly cold water came as a welcome reprieve, for me atleast. Finally, the journey culminated at 7.45 PM.

The moment we got down from the bus, scores of rickshaw pullers started nearly hounding us to board their rickshaws, which would take us to the hotels of our choice, depending on the budget. And don’t ask the condition of those rickshaws…. they were all there, half broken, some without foot rests, rickety, tottering, and extremely painful on the rear. Something was protruding which tore part of my new t-shirt. It was horrible. But the fare, a meager Rs. 5. Why? The hotel wallahs foot the remaining Rs. 10, so it would seem a win-win situation for all - the customer pays less, the rickshaw puller gets his share and the hotel owners, a customer. The rate system of the hotels has their own story to tell. On weekdays, a non-AC room costing Rs. 500 can easily shoot to Rs. 1500 on weekends. And about the AC rooms, the less said the better. And this phenomenon is universal, in Haridwar. No fixed rates there. Economists would love the game of demand-supply. And if the weekend is some Ekadasi, then it is party time for the hotel owners. The same non-AC room can go up for bidding upto Rs. 2200. And the AC rooms? Rs. 3000, flat! The condition of the rooms however, remains the same. No extra services for paying five times the actual. Getting to terms with this mechanism, we somehow got a room, because we came on the last weekday, and had to shell out, a supposedly throwaway price of Rs. 1100 a day, because our booking extended till the weekend.

We had bath, watched the television for sometime and then, it was dinnertime. We were told that non-vegetarian food was “not available”. It wasn’t totally unexpected. There are numerous “Vaishnav Bhojanalays”. I was given the impression by my father that Dehradun rice is served, hot desi ghee is poured on top, added to that are delicious chutney and overall a great experience. Yet, again, we were proved wrong. Those Vaishnav Bhojanalays serve Alu 65, Vegetable Manchuria, noodles, and yes, even rice. I wonder what the Gods must be thinking! We preferred an Indian sort of food, and we ordered rice, dal and a curry. The rice was not Dehradunian, no desi ghee was poured, and the dal and chutney were anything but delicious. The scene inside the bhojanalay was equally chaotic. Waiters shouting, customers howling, children running, someone puking etc. we managed to steer clear of everything and concentrate on the ‘lovely’ food served. After clearing the bills, we thought of loitering around for sometime. Here I was impressed, for once, with the quality of sweets available. I had rabri, jalebi, basundi and petha. I was extremely gladdened with the sweet eating experience, partly because I rarely get to taste these delicious wonders and partly because I was tormented for the whole day. So pleasant events delighted me even more. We waded through the narrow by-lanes of the historic city and reached our hotel. After that, I fell flat on the bed and dozed off. I deserved a good night’s sleep.

It was the 24^th of June, Saturday. We were supposed to take bath in the Ganga. The ghats of the river extend miles. The main ghat is called “Har Ki Paudi”(see picture). We took quite sometime reaching there, as we were constantly told that it was just five minutes away from where we were. That five minutes ultimately became forty five minutes. We walked and walked and walked. We somehow reached the ghats. Har Ki Paudi was further away. That made for a very colourful picture. Scores of people, taking bath in the holy river, the sadhus chanting Lord’s name, there was an element of euphoria there. Somehow I forgot what I had to face before. The scene is very captivating. I chatted with a few fakir like sadhus. They have no fears, no complexes, speak straight from the heart. They look scruffy and crazy from outside, but believe me; some can really shock you with the depth and breadth of their intellect and knowledge of scriptures. Common folk, however, were just indulging in merriment. It is a marvelous sight. There are all these prachin (ancient) temples, which have mentions in our scriptures. The erstwhile Maharajas have constantly renovated them. We then decided that it was time for us to take the dip. I was a bit jittery, and the rest shy. I didn’t risk exposing my well rounded, pot-like midriff. But I was coaxed out of my inhibition. The water was ice-cold nearly and the currents were immense. Added to that, the ghats were extremely slippery. We luckily faced no such problems and after three dips, we emerged, rejuvenated and invigorated. It certainly was a great feeling to take a plunge in Ganga, that too at Haridwar.

Empowered and with a feeling of holiness, my father, wanted to do Pinda daan, a ceremony where one invokes the blessings of the ancestors. He consulted a nearby policeman. He guided us to a priest. There are hundreds of them - all willing to perform any ceremony you want. After the ceremony, which supposedly went off well, was the time for dakshina, a fee for the priest. There are no fixed rates, unlike in the South. These priests are masters in accounting and commerce. Suppose you have Rs. 500 in your purse, they’ll make a list of expenses and charities, which will definitely sum upto Rs. 500. They can do this to any sum, even something like Rs. 759. So, my advice is, take as little money as possible to the bathing ghat. The priests will politely pillage your wallet and you’ll be left standing without even affording a rickshaw ride back to the hotel. It happened to us, and many others. The alternative is to carry some cash in another secret wallet. You can reach your hotel eating along the way in all these stalls and vendors. Food is really economical here in Haridwar and luscious too! All types of vegetarian food, in all varieties are available. So if you are a Bengali, you can find many Bengali restaurants, same is the case if you are from Maharashtra, or Tamil Nadu, or Gujarat, or Kerala. The people here are very accommodative and helpful, unlike quite a few of our ‘modern’ cities. They are willing to go out of their way to help you with the directions, bargain with rickshaw pullers and yes, absolute strangers smile back!

You’ll have to quickly reach your hotel and plan for the day. The ideal thing is to take a packaged tour of Hrishikesh. You’ll be given a time, say 10.00 AM, and the bus will leave earliest by 11.00 AM, you’ll be considered lucky even. It is not that there aren’t enough passengers or buses; it is just an example of gross mismanagement – of operators, middlemen, bus drivers, agents, touts etc. Sometimes it is fascinating, how so many things can actually work simultaneously, albeit with a time lag. We got into one, by fluke, which was supposed to leave at 9.30 AM and it started at 10.15 AM, voila! Two passengers supposedly hadn’t arrived, and we pounced. We were shown various temples, all ancient and historically significant. One of them was where Goddess Sati was born, another where Lord Shiva disrupted Raja Daksheshwar’s grand ceremony, lots of them are there on the way. We also got a glimpse of Swami Ramdev’s Patanjali Yoga Peeth from the outside. Swami Ramdev is the top-most yoga guru in India, and people of Haridwar feel proud everytime his reference is given. They consider him one of their own. This bus was imminently better than the one in which we reached Haridwar. Hrishikesh isn’t all that far from Haridwar. It is barely 35 kilometres or so. We stopped estimating the time it would take. C’mon, nothing was working! There are so many temples that the guides want you to see, and add to that the chaotic traffic situation. We reached Hrishikesh by noon. We were first made to walk in scorching sun to Lakshman jhoola. Legend has it that, Lord Lakshmana, made a bridge like structure as a connect between two hills, underneath which River Ganga is flowing. We cheerfully crossed it, and had a feeling of doing something very holy. We visited a few temples here and there, took a few photos, and we were told we’d have to go to a place called ‘Swarg Ashram’, which means Heaven Abode. We were stuffed into a jeep, in a manner worse than poultry chicken, along with nearly ten others, and were transported to the ‘Swarg Ashram’. This is a two-kilometer ordeal and the condition of the jeep – the less said the better. Didn’t someone say, the road to heaven is through hell?

After reaching there, and praying for sometime, we were shown the way for lunch. There are quite a few restaurants in the alley. One of them is called Chotiwallah; literally, a man with a ponytail (see picture). People say, the head-cook here, had a ponytail and cooked very well. Hence the name. The Chotiwallah brand is so famous now that in Haridwar too there are a few restaurants by the same name! There is no record of any pony-tailed cooks there! The restaurant was a bit messy, but hygienic, and the food was just about average. There is a showpiece Chotiwallah there now, and he poses for photographs happily. After lunch, we idled around for sometime and then boarded the bus. It was about 3 PM then.

We were then taken to many temple-cum-amusement parks. Sounds astounding? How can a temple be an amusement park? Well, it is. There is one that has Vaishnodevi style caves, replicas of all famous Shivlingas, a few optical illusions with strategically set mirrors et al. These seem pretty interesting, but the catch is that you’ll have to perform a small puja, so in the name of dakshina, the priests extort some more money, and want you to ‘donate’ to the ‘ashram’. This is the principle difference between say an Essel World and these sorts of ‘temples’. While the Essel Worlds of the world, don’t ask you for dakshina or a ‘donation’, these do! But ultimately both are amusement parks. Talk of commercialization of religion! Well, that’s the way things work here. And what does one get in return of the gross moneymaking schemes? Excellent services? You must have guessed the answer. There are many of these ‘temples’ on the way. These ‘temples’ look extremely good from outside. Gigantic sculptures, Brobdingnagian paintings etc.; so if you call this a place of recreation and not a ‘temple’, I think it is fine enough.

After heading to other similar temples, we went back to the Ganga ghat, where a few people (see pictures) congregated. Everyone was deeply immersed, quite literally in devotion. One thing I’ve seen is that the people, no matter from which background they are from, are ever so cheerful and chirpy. They are buoyant, again literally, when they take dips in the holy river. Such is the milieu there. The ghats have some points that are worth mentioning.. There is an engraved notice board, which has about six rules. One of them says, ‘photography is ‘strictly prohibited’’, another rule says ‘non-Hindus are not allowed’, another one reads ‘use of soap and washing clothes is forbidden’, the one below it tells us ‘no tax is to be paid in this premises’. But it shouldn’t be astonishing that all, and I mean, all rules are flouted. If photography were ‘strictly prohibited’, from where do you get to see these photos? And yes, I wasn’t the only one with a camera. There were thousands of them. If ‘non-Hindus are not allowed’, how come so many foreigners come here, take dips, photos and then move about? Surely the authorities can identify ‘non-Hindus’. And then this, ‘use of soap is forbidden’. Just on the isles, a lot of women, were busy washing their children, clothes and the like. Tell them that a rule exists specifically forbidding what they are doing and they’ll retort, “Aur kahaan kapde dhoye? Delhi mein?(Where else should be wash our clothes? In Delhi?”) Such is the condition. And yes, accounting for the ‘no tax’ rule is equally interesting. Surely, I wouldn’t mind paying a small tax, if the fees of these priests’ were regulated. Each one charges dubious amounts and psychologically coaxes you to pay up, and you have no other option. After our bath in the Ganga, we headed for the hotel.

Oh, I’ve forgotten to tell you about the roads of Haridwar. The biggest road is as clattery and chaotic as the Secunderabad station road, albeit with half its width. All other ‘roads’, if that tag can be given, resemble the hustling and bustling by-lanes of General Bazaar or Sultan Bazaar. They have to be seen to be believed. They just go on and on, amidst all the frenzy and madness. You can’t use any system of transport. After all, even a cycle can’t pass through them! Thousands of people march through these, bargaining, heckling, haggling and negotiating with the ecstatic shopkeepers, who clearly were on cloud nine. Their eyes were popping out and their heads were constantly pendulating, they know that Saturday evenings can make many a rags-to-riches story, so they were making hay while the Sun (in this case arc-lights and bulbs) was shining. They are smart people, they invite you in with great accord, and then quote exorbitantly, as they know, you’ll get it to half, and hence, they’ll get the privilege of acting as though they’ve incurred a tremendous loss, but gave you the deal, just because you were so special. Such is life here. The only thing, as I mentioned earlier, really worth having here is the food. It is palatable, tasty and inexpensive. What else does one need? You can keep eating in these roadside stalls, carts, vendors et al, everyone serves you with a gentle smile. This is a big difference with the big cities, one of which was recently awarded the tag of ‘rudest’ (rightly or wrongly) by foreign publications. The planning for the next day was done after we reached the hotel, and then as usual, like everyone else in the world, I went to sleep.

We made up our mind to go to the Mansa Devi temple, which is on top of a hill and after that come down to take bath. We reached there on time. But as things go, we were ‘before time’. Incidentally, there is a ropeway service here that opens an hour after we reached the place. So we resolved to go to the hilltop on foot. It was a 45-minute task. We executed it scientifically – slow-deep breaths, back straight, chest out, chin up and no conversations. There are many benches to rest, and we used them. The ascend is interesting in the sense that everyone encounters a plethora of monkeys. Some carry food packets along with them too. The trick is that you shouldn’t eat in front of the monkeys. If you do, numerous monkeys will jump out of nowhere and snatch away your packet. So, be careful! After reaching the pinnacle and praying, we decided to take the ropeway for the descend. I never had boarded a ropeway carrier before, so it was all the more fun. Wonder why Tirupati doesn’t allow it. Thence we proceeded towards the bathing ghat once again; the water currents this time were not only fiercer, but also the water was chilly ice-cold. So I wasn’t left open-mouthed when I slipped - and slipped big time. But for those chains and rods, which I firmly clung on to, I’d have to negotiate these vicious currents all by myself. After thanking the Gods, and packing up from the ghat, we sped towards the eateries in the market. After the trek to reach the apex of the hill, and taking bath for quite sometime at the Ganges, to say that we were hungry would be an understatement. As it was a Sunday morning, my day wanted ‘homely Bengali food’. And voila, we spotted one. It was traditional luchi-torkari, a typical Bengali household’s Sunday breakfast. My dad felt elated. After eating some sweets from a nearby shop and lassi, which was oh-so-wonderful, we sat on a rickshaw and luckily reached the hotel. ‘Luckily’ because I never expected we’d reach the hotel, I was almost sure that the rickshaw would collapse. Two factors were instrumental for that thought – the rickshaw itself and its unwieldy passengers. We packed our baggage and idled around in the hotel room, surfing channels. We checked out of the hotel at 10.30 AM as it was time for us to board a bus back to Delhi. As usual, the bus and time we were allotted – the one at 11 AM, wouldn’t just leave. Even after 12.30 PM, after the operators, conductors, touts and people of their ilk, who control this business tested our nerves, some passengers, visibly exasperated, nearly came to blows with the authorities concerned. And as always, it worked! The bus left immediately.

Looking back at the ‘holy’ city and its approach roads, there is an immense scope for infrastructure development. In fact, so colossal is the task, that our unemployment problem can be solved! It is not that things have gone out of control or are beyond repair. It doesn’t need any Herculean effort from anyone. The city only deserves better treatment and some objective thinking on part of the concerned authorities. What we need is a collective effort. Mark my words; this place can be transformed again into a heavenly place, as it was even twenty years ago. What the authorities should do is – have broader (and cleaner) approach roads to this holy city, regulate these hotel owner-tout-middleman-operator-policeman mafia (yes!), and make it a value-for-money service for the devotees. They can model Haridwar on the lines of Tirupati, which is an epitome of cleanliness and good management. But everything can’t be left for the authorities too. Some actions by people who call themselves ‘devotees’, clearly beat my reasoning faculties. They litter the river, throw all sorts of junk, plastic bags, and have left the place in shambles. Ironically, these are the very rivers that they worship! Clearly some soul-searching should go on from the side of the devotees too. Will Goddess Ganga be pleased and forgive you if you dirty her and pollute her, just because a two-line prayer has been said without understanding the meaning and sans any devotion? Another point, which comes to my mind, is the food served in these so-called ‘Vaishnav Bhojanalays’ – can’t there be original Indian food? Why Vegetable Manchuria? Why Ruffles Lays? Why Coke and Pepsi? Twenty-five years ago, apparently it was the most exquisite place to come over and spend sometime. How the situation now is, you’ve got a fair description of it. We are supposed to be a race that thinks about the future glory, but if things continue like this, I doubt if there will be any future to think of.

Well, there are so many lovely memories too. One of them is my little interaction with the ubiquitous Sadhus. They are vivacious to the core, and have a great sense of humour. Their comments, often sarcastic, a few philosophical and the rest informative, can have you in splits. Another wonderful experience was crossing the Lakshman jhoola, it somehow gave an uplifting and highly emotive feeling. Here was a place, where those whom we worship, lived, built etc. But by all means the best moments were those while taking bath in the holy Ganga, along with thousands of others - the staggering number of people who take bath simultaneously is only second to the Mahakumbh Mela. The water is cold, the currents are furious, the ghats are slippery, yes. Those who are depressed for some reason or are not feeling well will immediately be rejuvenated, and those who are perfectly fine and want to have a good time, like us, will feel even more beaming with energy - the reason, the expression on the faces of the devotees, those emotions of bliss, of almost eternal peace, satisfaction and felicity. May be it so because they have their relatives all together, in a far-off place, or maybe no one will trouble them with their daily chores but I believe it stems from deep consecration for the divine. The holy places are there to help you forget what you are and give you these feelings – saintliness, piousness, and ultimately, happiness!

The author would appreciate if you posted your honest opinions here.

Three Days of Bliss

2006-06-17T02:14:00.000-07:00

This summer I completed writing my entrance exams for getting into under-graduate level. Suddenly I found a lot of time at my disposal because I didn't have to study throughout the day anymore right now. My family being interested in spiritual matters, one Sunday evening, I accompanied my parents to Ramakrishna Mission to listen to discourses on Bhagavad Gita by Pujya Swami Srikantanandaji, the Director of the Institute, a Swami with a highly mesmeric and captivating personality. I was totally overwhelmed by the experience and started thinking how I can be like Swamiji. After that, we were taking a round of the campus, and as if God sent, we saw a notice calling students in the age group 18-25 for a Residential Youth Camp to be held at the Vivekananda Institute of Human Excellence, in the Ramakrishna Mutt itself. I immediately expressed my willingness to join the same. I really wanted to do this course from the core of my heart because I thought if one hour of Gita discourse can have such profound effect on me, what a change a residential camp might bring about in me! I started dreaming about my life in close contact with the Swamijis. Gauging my enthusiasm, my parents readily agreed and we enquired about the same. The decisive day was 5th June when Swamiji himself would interview the applicants.

Finally, it was the 5^th of June and we were called for an interview for the much-coveted 3-Day Residential Youth Camp. As the final hours (for the interview) were drawing close, we were increasingly becoming jittery as we were told that there were “limited” seats. Then the actual interview took place with Swamiji. He seemed rather excited at the prospect of selecting some youngsters whom (I presumed with vanity) Swami Vivekananda called, “The brightest, the strongest and the most patriotic youth of today”. I was, by his and God’s grace, selected. A few formalities were to be completed after that and we were asked to report on the evening of the 8^th of June in white.

The opportunity of spending 3 days with Swamijis in such a holy atmosphere and meeting like-minded people of my age, was mouth-watering, to put it simply. So meticulous planning started on that very day.

Then the much awaited day - 8^th June - arrived. We reported in time. And then we were clustered into small groups and sent to different rooms. Then we were given an hour-by-hour schedule for the 3 days to come. We started off with a tour of the entire campus. Initially, we were all ultra-formal in our approach, uttering words we never normally do easily: please, sorry, thank you, excuse me et al.

We went to various blocks, starting with Gita Darshan, where the most famous shlokas from the Bhagavad Gita are affixed on the wall, with their meanings explained, one can also listen to the shlokas on headphones provided there;
Sant Darshan, where there are pictures and short biographies of great sages like Adi Shankaracharya, Ramana Maharishi, Paramahamsa Yogananda, Swami Shivananda, Annamacharya, Mira bai, Sant Tyagaraj etc.;
Vivekananda Institute of Languages, where English, Sanskrit, German, Spanish, François etc are taught;
The Vivekananda Library, which is a store house of voluminous information with around 50000 books, magazines and encyclopedias on a wide spectrum of topics. I couldn’t have enough of it. I thought that the 10 minutes allotted to the library was too paltry. I could’ve spent years together in this place. Unwilling to leave, we were taken to the temple of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa and the auditorium, where a discourse was going on. We were then escorted back to our respective rooms and told to report in 5 minutes at the meditation hall, an ultra-modern air conditioned hall with a serene and tranquil atmosphere. The grand hall can silence even the most argumentative and hotheaded souls. The hall was very inviting, what with lots of lovely red asans! We were allowed to sit on these very asans, and just as the digital clock in the room touched 20.00, Swami Srikantanandaji emerged. The first impression was that he was a very strict disciplinarian who led by example. After a brief introduction of what to do and what not to do in the campus, what they expected from us etc., we were asked to chant Omkara three times. Scores of students chanting the divine Omkara in the room, and the walls reverberating in resonance, was not only spiritually intoxicating but also a moment of tremendous bliss. Mere words can’t translate that feeling. We then were given a lot of “food for thought” regarding religion, spirituality, life, death etc. We chanted a few prayers and proceeded to have “food for the body”. The dinner was both tasty and nutritious and helped to ease things up among us.

We were taken to a monstrously large hall where mattresses were laid and we were required to sleep after an “informal” introduction. This was an opportunity to make friends, as we were asked to speak about who we are, what we do and the reason for joining the course. The volunteers, Dhananjaya Deshpande sir, Santosh sir and Vijay sir were extremely altruistic, good humoured and sweet tempered. They did their very best to bring the students closer to each other and augment the comfort levels. After that, three Swamijis - Swami Anupamanandaji, Swami Srikantanandaji and Swami Deshikatmanandaji held a satsang to dispel our doubts regarding spirituality, religion, life, modern challenges etc. They responded to our questions with sagacity, clairvoyance and had shlokas from The Bhagavad Gita, The Upanishads, The Puranas etc on their fingertips to drive home the points they were making. Their responses cleared many a cloud of doubt regarding the issues mentioned and were illuminating to say the least. Then at 22.30, sharp, we were put to sleep.

The next morning (9^th June), we were awakened by the plethora of alarms at around 4.15 AM and after the ablutions we left for the temple for Mangala Aarti. The prayer hall was illuminated with pradeepas and we prayed in silence. The milieu was quiescent. Subsequently, we advanced to the meditation hall by 5.00 AM, for meditating. The ambience, as mentioned earlier, was sacred. Swami Srikantanandaji arrived on time, as usual. After greetings, we chanted Omkara thrice and a short prayer to begin with, followed by mild indoctrination, a “moral” story, and we were initiated to the concepts of meditation. The sense of humour of Swamiji was slowly beginning to unveil. He explained how people in the name of meditation doze off. For them, Yoga Nidra becomes Nidra. He gave us some examples of hypocritical behaviour of “religious” people and had us in splits. Then the “real” lessons on meditation started. He raised and answered questions on why to do meditation, what we stand to gain, how to do it, when to do it et al. After that, was our first session in yoga, conducted by Deshpande sir, a reassuring and emboldening soul, and a proficient master, who was ever ready to dispel doubts from our minds. After the loosening exercises and basic asanas itself, most of us were feeling exceedingly tired, as earlier we never did asanas. Then we did our favourite asana, called Shavasana, where one is required to lay like a dead body, loosening all organs and limbs from toe to the head mentally. Most, including me, never did any of the “mental loosening”, we just went to sleep - Nidra. Then we were made to do the easier part, though higher in the hierarchy (of Maharshi Patanjali), breathing exercises called Pranayams. After words of hope and encouraging pep talk from Deshpande sir, we proceeded to our rooms, forming queues for bath. The waiting part of it was not boring at all. Actually it was quite interesting and broke a lot of mental walls, as absolute strangers were queuing for bath. We exchanged pleasantries there and discussed who did what, where and why and our experiences at the Ramakrishna Mutt so far. Thereafter, we proceeded to the meditation hall again. Personally speaking, the meditation hall was the place to be for me. I wouldn’t mind spending a lifetime there. We chanted Omkara thrice, and again I was reminded of my earlier experiences of blessedness, and then learnt a bit more about meditation. We chanted a few Shanti Mantras, and then it was time for breakfast. We were served idlis with sambar and also beverages like tea and coffee. The sambar was yummy! We were given the privilege of carrying a cell phone and we had the opportunity to speak to our parents about what happened in the last 15 hours. The cellphone sessions followed during every breakfast and dinner from then on.

From 10.00 to 13.00 and 14.00 to 17.00, each day, we had academic and interaction sessions, conducted by renowned academicians, career guidance experts, management gurus and Swamijis.
At 10.00 sharp, Swami Jnanadanandaji, the President of the Ramakrishna Mutt, Swami Srikantanandaji and Swami Anupamanandaji formally welcomed us. The topics for the session were mainly related to human values in life. We had enlightening and illuminating lecture on Education for Human Excellence by Swami Anupamanandaji. He spoke on what was wrong with the present education system, how to correct it and how to shine in these turbulent times.
Values for Peaceful Living by Swami Deshikatmanandaji followed. He threw light upon how to live graciously, affably, and congenially with others for the betterment of all of us.
Thereafter, we had a presentation on Effective Leadership Skills by Shri M.C. Das, a master orator and an acclaimed management guru. He elucidated the differences between a boss and a leader, for example : how a boss drives, depends on authority, instills fear, says “I” etc. whereas how a leader coaches, depends on goodwill, instills confidence, says “we” etc. He spoke at length on how a leader should be, what qualities, habits and traits he should possess etc. His voice was extremely well-sounding on the microphone and the session was highly interactive. We all listened in rapt attention. He received a roaring applause after his lecture ended.

Then lunch followed. It was a scrumptious meal, yet very Indian and very healthy (why “yet”? because we thought good food meant western snacks like pizzas and burgers – how preposterous our ideas were!)
At exactly 14.00, the second session began. This session had lectures mainly on Personality Development. Swami Vireshanandaji spoke on Education for Personality Development. He was very cheerful and direct. Shri M.C. Das lectured on Inter Personal Relations. In this session too, he was so interactive that you’d feel that he was speaking to you alone.
The third speaker was Dr. Sasi Kumar, a research scholar at ADRIN. He discoursed on the Role of Science and Religion for Total Human Development. He spoke marvelously connecting religion and science. We always wanted to hear something like that. We noted down almost every word that he said and he gave detailed explanations on perceived contradictions regarding “unscientific” rituals and disentangled many a complex maze concerning religion and science. He received a standing ovation, which is practically reserved only for Swamijis. We bugged him till late after his session was over, falling over each other to collect his e-mail ID and asked him questions. We initially thought that the post-lunch session might be boring, but how wrong we were!
After a short recess, we did what is called the Shramadan, for example: plucking out weeds, picking dead leaves, and clearing up mess at the numerous gardens in the campus. Subsequently, after cleaning up ourselves, we went to the temple again for Aarti, and then my favourite place, the meditation hall. After a brief spell of meditation, we were shown a documentary on the history and propagation of the Ramakrishna Mutt and Mission and another one regarding value orientation. Later, we proceeded for dinner. By now, members of each group knew each other to a certain degree and interacted during supper. Post dinner, we went to our super large “bedroom”, if you like it. There was again the satsanga - “informal” discussion and questionnaire session with the Swamijis. Man! They know just too much. Any question on any topic, phew! You have the answer, with a shloka from our scriptures most of the times. They even answered several uncomfortable questions, things that go against their philosophy and were able to hit the nail on the head, time and again. We were awestruck, obviously! Were the answers practical and to the point? Absolutely. But not all of them can be implemented in today’s (un)modern context, atleast according to me. The Swamijis at 22.30 wanted to wind up the session. They did it technically. But some of us asked questions even while they were leaving. They were benevolent enough to answer almost all our queries till they reached their quarters. We felt sorry for throwing their schedule off gear, but then they wouldn’t have minded, we’re sure. After the deluge of information exchange and high-end spiritual talk, we went to sleep. Others might have slept, but I was constantly thinking of what they told. Trying to put things into perspective, unable to tell my subconscious mind that all values must be followed not just in letter but also in spirit. After some soul searching, I closed my eyes.

The next morning (10^th June) too, it was the same schedule, till 10.00. I had the same feelings of contentedness, though the perceptibility definitely increased in those meditation sessions. And yes, I was able to stretch a bit more in the yoga session. After bath, I took a few photos, 13 to be precise, of the campus, the multitudinous number of trees there, and a whole lot of other things. After breakfast, we reached the Academic Hall. This day was more about Swami Vivekananda’s ideal of “Universal Religion”, of the concept of “Harmony of Religions”. There were lectures on Swami Vivekananda’s Views on Religion by Swami Vireshanandaji, The Concept of Harmony of Religions by Dr. Kamala Jaya Rao and Similarity between Islam and Sanatana Dharma by Shri Mohammed Ghouse. I was really waiting for this session. The reason was that I was looking forward to rip apart Islam and Christianity, as I didn’t agree with the concept of Harmony of Religions. This was a personal feeling. The picture in my mind regarding Islam is that of a persecutory cult, with its followers indulging in terrorism under the guise of Jehad, treating their Allah (and no one else) as the sole creator of the cosmos and historically insolent, disrespecting and ever ready to plunder (and terrorize) nations and people belonging to other faiths (kafirs). This applies to a moderate level to Christianity as well. Don’t they want to show “light” to us pagans?

Hence, even now, I can’t accept the concept of Harmony of Religions whole-heartedly. For me, it always appears to be one sided, Hindus speaking of universalism and not getting any response from the other side. Doesn’t it take two to tango?
Apart from this one teaching of Swami Vivekananda, I agree with every thing else. Wherever He is, He will definitely not curse me. Didn’t He give me the right to question and put reason and logic while placing arguments? Well, I’m waiting for a convincing response on this front from enlightened souls. Even during the lunch (which was as delicious as ever) hours, we were intensely speaking on these topics and I felt; quite a few weren’t satisfied with the concepts of Universalism and Harmony of Religions, especially in today’s time. Thus unexpectedly, I found some kindred souls.

The post lunch session began at 14.00 sharp, as usual. Prof. Siva Ramakrishna, former HOD of English at Osmania University, spoke of Swami Vivekananda’s contribution to World Culture. The lecture was exceptional both in terms of content and on a literary scale. He was very witty, jovial and extremely entertaining.
At 15.00 there was a Group Discussion. Students were divided into three groups, with each group having a Swamiji and an academician as moderators. Two students from each group were supposed to make the final presentation. After the stipulated 45 minutes of discussion, members of our group (the second one) proposed my name for taking up the job of presentation along with another girl. Our topic was “Contribution of Swami Vivekananda to the World Religion.” Each group followed the concept of “Ladies First”. So, I was the 4^th speaker. The first two spoke on Education for Character. I found that my presentation partner had already covered all my points. She spoke well, albeit a bit too formally and seriously. Then came my turn. I had to immediately change my proposed speech (presentation) and make it sound apt and spontaneous. And this is what I said, “Pujya Swamijis, respected academicians and my dear friends, a very good afternoon to you all. As you know, my topic is Contribution of Swami Vivekananda to the World Religion and also that my friend has covered all the points, my job now is to hammer and to drill the points into your brain. Let me start by asking you a few questions…. Who was the first religious leader, you can take any person from any religion that is, who first elucidated the concept of Universalism of Religion? Of Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam? Of Universal Brotherhood? The answer as you all know is…our very own Swami Vivekananda. See, in 1893, at the World Parliament of Religions, when every other religious leader was busy self-aggrandizing about why his religion was better than the others, Swamiji caught everyone’s attention by speaking words of wisdom which bowled everyone over. He didn’t go there to preach that Hinduism is the greatest religion and everyone should embrace it. He spoke of the concept of One Divine Religion. For him, religion was above narrow differences, of putting down people of other faiths etc. He spoke of that religion, which benefits everyone, which helps people to manifest the divinity already in them. Just imagine, if I’m to debate with say Muslims, I’ll say something, they’ll retort, after sometime we’ll come to blows, leading to social tensions and communal problems. Do we want that? Our first aim is to bring people together, of all religions, of making a common cause with them. Where will all this debating and fighting lead to? I’m all for lectures and seminars on similarities between religions, today you heard one of them, regarding Islam and Sanatana Dharma. I’d be glad if we had one regarding Christianity and Sanatana Dharma too. Don’t you think so Mr. Murthy [the compere]? As far as his contribution to India’s image, he explained to the Western world that India wasn’t the land of superstitions, snake charmers and incoherent mumbo-jumbo. He spoke very highly of India, its value systems, its vibrant culture, its scriptures etc. There was a standing ovation just when he began and after he concluded. No one, and I mean no one, has done so much good to India’s image in the West. It is Swamiji whom we need to thank. After his lectures, the world looked up to India. We know Albert Einstein, Erwin Schrodinger, Oppenheimer, Nobel laureates all, and pioneers in their fields, were highly inspired by him and made the Vedas and Indian scriptures, as Einstein once exclaimed, “Base for all scientific research”. Isn’t that a tremendous contribution? Of course, he spoke in a much better way than I did. [cheers and claps] As I’m running out of time, let me read to you a few lines that are there in my book, hmm. He said essence of every religion is ultimately to realize God, he said religion is about being good and doing good and that religion is that concept that lifts animal to man and man to God. You can find more of these quotes if you just walk across the campus! So with these lines, and apologizing for overshooting the time, I conclude.”

After me two others spoke on Swamiji’s Philosophy of Work. During the tea break, many students, whose face I saw for the first time, apart from so many I’d become close to, came over to me and congratulated me for “speaking well”. I was floored and the response was truly overwhelming. In the very hall where I spoke, there is a board with a quote approximately reading, “Truth, Purity, Unselfishness: where these are there, no force above or below the Sun can crush such people” I immediately reflected upon it. Truth – As we didn’t speak much in the campus, we were never given the opportunity actually to lie – the atmosphere didn’t permit us to! Purity – We were leading lives like sages, already. Unselfishness – Picture this, in my group, there was a guy from IIM-Bangalore, one from IISc, so many students with M.Techs, MBAs, yet they trusted an untested junior, who just passed out his 12^th, to speak on their behalf,. Isn’t that a remarkable testimony to the quality of unselfishness?

I was very high on confidence after the group discussion and the feeling of being congratulated was slowly sinking in. I was charged up nonetheless. But here is a confession : I spoke a lot of things that I didn’t believe in, those very concepts of Universalism and Harmony of Religions. Yet speaking what I actually felt would be totally inappropriate, in fact uncongenial and inconsonant to the topic. I was the like a lawyer who was defending a given case. A lawyer fights the case for his client; he doesn’t necessarily have to subscribe to everything his client has done or said. Isn’t it?
After all that, the usual Shramadan took place, followed by Mangala Aarti and meditation. We were shown a documentary called “Who am I?” It was extremely intriguing and highly thought provoking and confused us thoroughly. After the documentary, every one (including me) was wondering who he actually was! We completed our dinner in this bewildered state of mind. Luckily, satsang with Swamijis followed. We again grilled them and they were ready with answers to every question. How stupendously they quote from the scriptures! - leaving everyone unilaterally amazed.

The “last day” (11^th June) arrived. After the morning routine of the Mangala Aarti at the temple, we went to the meditation hall. We were taking baby steps in spirituality now. We just started understanding things slightly better. We were asked not to expect fruits of meditation overnight. It was supposedly a seed, which we all have. The onus is on us to sow it, water it, nurture it, wait for the stems, buds, flowers and finally fruits. It is after that, that we could relish the fruits of meditation, according to them. Then again we chanted the Omkara thrice and had those exhilarating feelings of ecstasy. Those resounding reverberations from the walls gave us all that divine kick. The yoga session followed. Deshpande sir, our crackerjack yoga teacher was at his facetious best. He however wasn’t taking things easy himself, nor making it easy for us, at least physically. He made us stretch to the extreme, then smiled (as usual) and was generous enough to sanction the permission to do our favourite asana, the Shavasana. We asked him a few general doubts regarding what to eat, when to eat, when to practice yoga, when not to do certain asanas etc. As he is highly proficient in his field, his answering without batting an eyelid didn’t come as a surprise at all to us. We then proceeded for bath to our respective rooms. Here we decided that we (people whom we were closest to) would congregate in front of Swami Vivekananda’s statue, just after breakfast, and I was bestowed the opportunity of photographing. We then, unanimously approved the proposed idea of starting an Orkut group so that we can remain in touch, atleast online. After bath, meditation, and breakfast, it was now time for the photo-session. We assembled at the designated place and had a jolly good time. I had a great time clicking those group photos. Then, a few of them, very shyly approached me for individual photos. They were quite embarrassed to ask me. I couldn’t figure out why. The answer flashed in my mind, almost immediately. They didn’t know that digital photos were for free! When I told them that, they shed their inhibitions and asked me to take their photos at places of their choice and gave me their e-mail addresses for me to forward them their photos. I was delighted - after all, photography is one of my cherished hobbies.

We then proceeded for the academic session.. It started with a discourse on “Art of Living” by Prof. I.V. Chalapathi Rao. He has been the principal and vice-chancellor of many universities, director, registrar, honourary chairman, honourary president etc. for numerous Govt. appointed commissions, committees, several prestigious institutions etc. He is a voracious reader and has penned 22 books, yes! Some top gun eminent members of the society released his books, wrote forewords etc. And Prof. Chalapathi Rao is 84 now. His language, diction, phraseology etc. were second to none. He quoted at length from Dr. Samuel Johnson, Thomas Hardy, Francis Bacon, Winston Churchill, and Swami Vivekananda. There were several high points in his lecture, especially his tongue-in-cheek comments on a myriad of issues, like this one on politicians: “Politicians are Niagaras of words, Saharas of action and Himalayas of corruption”. He gave a practical, implicit and a highly specific guideline of things to do and not to do. That was the Art of Living according to him. Incidentally, there is also a book by him called “The Art of Living”, released by Dr. P.V. Narasimha Rao and its foreword is written by Swami Pravarthananda ji. He deserved an applause and received a thundering one at that.

Swami Anupamanandaji spoke at length about the Power of Positive Thinking, giving edifying examples from The Mahabharata and how to deal with life especially when the chips are down. Then Dr. Sumita Roy, an associate professor at the Nizam College, articulated how to train one’s mind in an analytical and logical fashion in 8 steps. The steps obviously were easy to read, but hard to follow. But then, who said life is easy?

Special lunch was organized for us, as it was the last day. Rasna and payasam were the specials, apart from the usual gratifying meal. During the lunch session, we were busy exchanging e-mail IDs, and phone numbers.

The topics in the post lunch session were mainly on self-improvement: Time Management by Shri V. Venkataramana, Director of VIST and Management Skills by Sri Sudhakar, a renowned management consultant. As most of us are constantly caught in a dilemma of prioritizing our activities, planning for future, both in short and long terms, Mr. Venkataramana’s talk was a grim reminder of the harsh realities we’re going to face in the future. He made uncomplicated tables contrasting the time management skills of successful people and that of the ordinary junta. He also taught us a lot of tricks that we might require in life, like saying “No” when we have to, instead of feeling guilty about refusing an invitation etc. when we have a lot work to do. He gave a realistic set of rules for setting deadlines, planning activities, and how not to procrastinate things etc. He received a standing ovation for his extraordinary efforts.

Now it was teatime, things were getting gloomy. Everyone was getting jaded. Time passed too soon and we didn’t want to leave the premises. Unfortunately, we would have to pack our bags and depart, as only the concluding speeches were left. Then, at 16.00 sharp, Swami Srikantanandaji, Swami Jnanadanandaji and Swami Anupamanandaji spoke, patted us on our backs for attending the course. They also gave their future plans, and were certainly looking forward to having us with them in the future. They called 5 people, to give their feedback. I was one of the lucky ones, again! But I realized my mistake as soon as I took the stage because now I was not in a proper mind to make a jolly speech. I was too pre-occupied with the thought of having to leave the Swamijis and Ramakrishna Mutt to concentrate on a coherent speech. Hence, this time I became nervous. I was scared of loss of words and started trembling. I somehow said what I wanted to, but the effect wasn’t there, atleast according to me. I’m sure some (or most) in the audience must have felt the same thing. And this is what I said (albeit with a highly palpitating heart and quivering fingers), “My pranams to the Pujya Swamijis, honourable academicians and my dear friends. What is your mental picture of heaven? Ask yourselves. For me atleast, it is: Lots of trees, tranquil atmosphere, learned Swamijis, meditation, brotherly attitude among inhabitants, peace, purity, truthfulness, unselfishness, and a sense of immense joy in every one’s hearts and souls. Can heaven be much better than what it is here in Ramakrishna Mutt? My friends, if there is heaven anywhere in this world, it is right here, right now! We have gained in every aspect of life immensely and I’m very sure that the majority of my brothers present here would seize every opportunity to get involved and would be yearning to be associated with the Ramakrishna Mutt. Speaking from a personal point of view, previously whenever I prayed, anywhere, I would always ask for entry to certain university, marks in a particular exam, money etc. but here, I found out, I didn’t even think of them even once! When we went to pray at the temple, I would only think of three things: Om, Om and Om. Nothing else! Such was the change that you brought in me. I have no doubt in my mind that others would also have had wonderful experiences here. What we’ve been receiving here is value-oriented indoctrination, and the onus is on us to follow and implement it in our lives. Leaving this campus is like being born into the Earth again. How we enforce what we’ve learnt here is the question we need to ask ourselves. We would like to continue our association with the Ramakrishna Mutt whenever and wherever possible. Thanking Swamijis and the staff from the bottom of our hearts, I hereby conclude my speech.”
Others also spoke the same thing more or less. Swami Jnanadanandaji then distributed certificates and we dispersed from the Academic Hall. We then bid adieu with a heavy heart and bleary eyes to our newly found like-minded, patriotic and spiritually oriented brothers.

Before joining the camp, I expected a change in my psyche. A “change”! And how! The Swamijis have totally weaned a soccer crazy, news-hungry, mother’s pet teenager from his staple diet of newspaper, TV and computer. It is my heart-felt realization that these three days in Ramakrishna Mutt have been the most enlightening, rejuvenating, and immensely enjoyable time of my life. I believe I can spend an entire lifetime here and yet be insatiate. I promise to myself that I will definitely try to live up to the ideals taught by the loving Swamijis here.

This blogger can be contacted at utsavmitra@hotmail.com