Reflections

This and that, Just like that

2009-03-29T20:09:00.000-07:00

I am amazed. I really have no clue as to how time flies. Even before I figure out how the day seamlessly vanishes into the night and night into day, weeks have gone by already. It's maddening - to race against time to meet deadlines. And life has its own way of springing surprises - new deadlines adding half-way through while meeting the original ones. Phew!

The mind can get crazy at times. You know you've got very little time on hand yet you choose to time-out - cook an elaborate lunch instead of a quick one or watch Rajiv Gandhi's biography online leisurely or even go for a 3D animation flick at ten in the night after a long day in the lab. But it works. You're mind is off all kinds of pressures for sometime and it's super fun having those 3D goggles on. For one, you've never seen objects flying out of movie screens before and hitting you straight on your face. And the other, you haven't ever worn go-go glasses all your life, leave alone 3D ones.

It's miraculous though. - how these guys come up with such marvellous graphics. Especially considering that Computer Graphics wasn't my cup of tea at undergrad - I barely managed to scrape through the course. Sometimes it takes a significant genius in one to do anything innovative. I was listening to instrumental renditions of Hindi songs on YouTube the other day. Songs as distinct as Kajra Re on the piano. Brilliant stuff! Amazing talent in folks who probably deserve more than an Oscar. Or at least some opportunity to cash in on their talent. For Oscar is too big a thing and Jagjit Singh doesn't think that even Rahman deserves one!

I've always liked Jagjit Singh's mellifuous voice though. Its richness is unique - makes you feel an instant connection to it. Sometimes such connections are instinctive and deep. And strangely at times, they can be negative too. Like the way I have a certain repulsion towards the South Indian actor Prakash Raj or his Bollywood equivalent - Irrfan Khan. Both are great actors and literally live the roles they play. But somehow I can never sit through any of their movies till the end. Odd. But true. Was planning to watch Billubarber for dinner. No prizes for guessing if I 'll be able to take in at least the first ten scenes. Damn! It's back to work then!

Moving On..

2009-02-28T21:44:00.000-08:00

Been a quarter of a year since I last wrote. The last four months have been mixed - mad rush for grades at the semester end and a long holiday to India. All that seems to be ages ago already. For the past one month here back in Boulder, things have been uninteresting. Strong winds blowing at 50 mph can torment you even on a ten-minute walk to school. You have fallen ill and so has everyone around you - at work or home or school or even on the telephone. The influenza outbreak is across the States. And most importantly, it's not so good to be close to your graduation date- especially now. I was warned of home sickness the first time I came to the US nearly a year and a half back. I have come to understand that only the second time I am here. Strange. Whatever.

My next two months are very tight - I barely get the time to marvel at the Rockies. The farthest ones are snow-capped now. The rows in front are mostly gray and green. I managed to watch the Oscars live nonetheless. Rahman is now more than a living legend. Resul Pookutty and Gulzar are two others making India proud. Nice. I choose not to talk about the ultimate winner of the Academy Awards though. Have watched Slumdog - liked it for some elements in it. But no more hype about it - either positive or negative. Period.

My roomie was watching a Japanese musical the other day. A western-classical-music- based plot. Ended up listening to Schubert, Mozart and Beethoven after eons but while capturing IP packets on Ethereal software for my lab report. I wonder if I would have been an engineer if I were given a chance to relive the last fifteen years of my life. Probably not. But may be chances of becoming a future music major are not that bleak. I know not. For now, I will go back to my Capstone work and play Schumann in the background.

Seasons

2008-10-12T00:17:00.000-07:00

The Fall in Boulder is only for a short while. The trees are not the usual green. There are reds, yellows, mauves, oranges and lilacs all around. There are lustrous bunches of table roses and marigolds on the streets. The campus makes a pretty sight of striking contrasts - the sloping, multileved roofs with red tiles/sandstone bricks and the vast stretches of lush greenery of the lawns.

The weather is unimaginably welcoming for anything. You can enjoy your walk to school or by your apartment pool or on the US-36 on your way to work. It's a blessing to have the warmth of the sun's rays. You don't need to stuff yourself with too much clothing. A casual pair of trousers or shorts or a lovely skirt is just fine to suit the weather. You would love to be outdoors. You would love to see the squirrels trot around and indulge in a bit of hide-and-seek with them. The Creek nearby that has water flowing right from the mountain top is a brilliant place to sit by and have interesting tete-a-tetes with folks.

Such pleasures and privileges aren't forever though. It was dark and foggy today. The thick, dark clouds obstructed the mountain view. It was actually snowing on the mountains. Snow, for us, on the foothills has been predicted within the next two days. The ground was wet because of dew. And suddenly, there was something missing. Something different. The trees. Their colorful leaves had gone. Their barren trunks stood stark against a hazy sky. But the stiffening cold outside ain't that bad when you cuddle up in your couch with a book in hand and indulge in a lot of garam chai. The Kashmiri one with a lot of cardamom is more soothing. And did I say you would love to stay indoors. B'cause it's winter here.

Long Weekend! Go! Go!

2008-07-13T22:25:00.003-07:00

Train to Silverton

Silverton - Crossing the river: Preetha and I

Cliff Dwelling

Maroon Bells

Black Canyon

The long weekend last week was much awaited. A road trip to the south of Colorado - for some scenic views, wild-forest camping and a couple of hikes. After much dilly-dallying, we decided to just go. All of us - a group of seven.

Thursday did not exactly turn out to be a short day at work. I worked as usual and hurried back home to catch up on my sleep. We were going to start the same night. Some haphazard packing of clothes, water and food, and we were already on our way past the Great Sand Dunes in the South. It was a new-moon night: the sky looked blurry and everything outside was dark and lonely. I frequently imagined a UFO shooting through the sky followed by an alien abduction of our seven-seater Dodge Grand Caravan. It wouldn't be difficult to spot a minivan inching its way through the long roads amidst vast stretches of deserted land.

Dawn broke soon and we almost reached Durango, a large town in south-west Colorado, surrounded by the San Juan Mountains in the north, arid deserts of Utah in the west and the San Juan National Forest in the south. The plan was to take a ride on a coal-fired, steam-powered train to the coal-mining town of Silverton through the picturesque parts of the San Juan National Forest. The train journey turned out to be a bit of a drag - took seven long hours two-and-fro. Silverton was a poky, little town that wore a contrived, historic look of the late nineteenth century. We chose to have lunch along the riverside - a saving grace for the painstaking travel to Silverton.

Evening was much more fun with our stop at the Mesa Verde National Forest for camping. A cozy, little tent put up with bonfire closeby, it was an amazing camping experience for us. While part of the group cuddled up in the tent to sleep, I chose to sleep under the gaze of the starry sky, along with some others. The forest was, however, scarily quiet and strikingly dark. We were warned of black bears that were abundant in the wild forest. So even a slight rustling of the leaves would startle us out of our sleep. Then we could hear the haunting wail of the foxes high up the mountains. The next day was spent in hiking up to the ancient cliff dwellings of the native Anasazi civilisation at the Mesa Verde National Park. The archaeological sites were a mysterious collection of the kivas or the ceremonial houses, one-room berths and herds of villages of the Puebloan society around 600 AD.

Ouray was our next destination for the night. It was an idyllic mountain town with cascading waterfalls and natural hot springs. Lying at the narrow mouth of a valley and towered by the snow-capped Rockies on three sides, Ouray has been nicknamed as the "Switzerland of America". The town did seem to live up to its title, although I haven't an idea about what the real Switzerland or Swiss Alps are like. We camped that night in Ouray.

The next morning was spent at the Box Canon Falls Park. A nature's marvel, the fall was formed when the gushing waters of the Canyon Creek cut through a deep , narrow boxed canyon of eroding limestone slabs. Canyons are formed when river waters cut through soft sedimentary rocks. One such rugged and steep canyon formed by the erosion of the Gunnison river in the south was the Black Canyon. We stopped at several view-points to click the mighty dark canyon walls. The gorges reached a depth of more than 2,000 feet and were less than 1,500 ft. in breadth, blocking most part of the sunlight. Hence, the name 'Black Canyon'.

Our final destination was the Maroon Bells. Surrounded by the pristine National Forest lands, these were supposedly the most picturesque peaks of all in North America. The glacial valleys are splendid with fourteen-ers (14,000-foot peaks) widely spread across. The highlight of the view is that the Maroon Lake mirrors spectacular images of the mountains in its waters.

The feeling was indescribable. We could not just stop marvelling at nature's bounty. And did we hear that there was heaven on earth?!

On Top of the World

2008-06-05T18:27:00.000-07:00

Bear Peak Mountain

The last section of the trek

Almost there

The past few days have seen some outrageous events: work overtime through the week at office, slog it out to get inside the enclosed Engineering building for labwork on a Saturday afternoon, move routers from one end of the lab to another and to top it all, trek to the Bear Peak mountain.

It's a lazy Sunday morning. My cell phone blares into my ears disturbing my sleep. My pal on the other end asks if I'm up and ready to go. Even before I completely wake up from my sleep, he quickly adds that there is a bus that we need to catch in just ten minutes.

Grabbing two large bananas and skipping my daily breakfast of a bowl full of cereals, I rush to the stop with my pals. We are a group of five, of which only one is a professional trekker. Situated along the foothills of the Front Range of the Rockies, Bear Peak is one of the most difficult mountains to hike. The total length of the hike is seven miles with an altitude gain of 2500 ft. (Boulder being at an elevation of 6000 ft. above sea-level).

The hike begins along the Mesa trail, located above the Table Mesa Drive, close to the NCAR(National Centre for Atmospheric Research). The hike along the Mesa Trail is short. The ground is even and the mountains look more gigantic and exotic than ever. At the end of the Mesa trail, lies a large fresh-water mountain stream. Boulder locals usually take their pets on hikes and the stream is a great source of respite for the panting animals.

The actual hike starts at the Bear Canyon cut-off, which follows the Mesa trail. It is a long trail that meanders back and forth between large sandstone slabs, and high up through grassy meadows with small groves of Aspens. There is gentle breeze along the way and higher up the trail, the adjacent and smaller Green Mountain appears through the groves.

The final section of the trek up to Bear Peak is extremely steep. It consists of hiking up a pile of huge boulders, magically balanced one on top of another. It is a battle for us to reach the top: figuring out and jumping across the hard rocks that can give us a firm foothold. The whole effort is worth the 360 degree view of the region at the top. Truly, a visual delight. We spot our University campus - a red patch lying beyond the Broadway. The Engineering building is the tallest on campus and the most noticeable from the mountain top.

Probably this is what is "being on top of the world".

Back on track

2008-05-09T23:21:00.000-07:00

It's just plain co-incidence that I get back to writing now-exactly three years since my last post in 2005. It surprises me largely as to how time has rolled by. Life has moved on swiftly and significantly. And I realize I owe a lot to my writing, this blog and the Internet - they opened up new avenues of expression/escape/contacts.

I have never liked my own writing style or any of my previous posts for that matter. However, the overwhelming joy in being complimented (both online and offline) for my posts hastens me to blog again. No, I still do not like my posts. But I choose to write.

It probably runs in the family-to push oneself too hard to do things with a sense of perfection. But then, life has so much to offer that it is tough to capture moments perfectly. It would probably take me a thousand lifetimes to write as brilliantly as some of the moments of my life in the last three years-moments of Yahoo/post-engineeering/ Boulder/Rochester/Cingular.

I attempt at one-my daily early-morning ritual of having cereals on the couch in the hall. The street outside is dark and quiet. The forecast has promised sunshine for the day. I patiently wait for my favorite view through the sliding window in the hall. The sun's rays get brighter by the minute silhouetting the gigantic Rockies against the rising sun. I take a deep breath as the enormity of the mountains startle me as they do every time I look at them. The view is almost like the standard setting for drawing I would stick to in my childhood: long chain of inverted Vs meant to resemble valleys and mountains with a circle in between that was meant to appear like the sun in the backdrop.

The moment is ecstatic! I count my blessings again as I am reminded of Mani's words, "You're lucky to be able to afford studying in a holiday resort! ". It really cannot get better than this.

The Ironies Of Life

2005-05-17T16:32:00.000-07:00

Now finding text books lying scattered all over the place even during holidays, doesn't make a very pleasant sight. So just as I'm about to pile them up and jettison them to an inconspicuous place, I feel this sudden urge to flip through the pages of one of them. The hi-fi gizmo gadgets drawn on the cover have no direct connections to the contents inside.As I quickly glance through the bizzare convolutions of some arbit theories related to motors, generators,transistors and what not, the subject strangely seems to be more than just interesting. Now if only this could happen before my exam!

My mind flashes back to the day I was going to write the exam. I stand waiting patiently at the bus stop,only to realize that the frequency of buses is strangely low, just the day when I am desperate to reach college on time.And nothing can be more annoying than to find plenty of them going in the opposite direction on the other side of the road, when I'm looking for just one that can transfer me to my destination. Eventually after a long, nail-biting wait, an absolutely over-crowded bus comes to my rescue and without a second thought, I rush into it pell-mell. An old lady sitting with a 2 year old in the front seat, is kind enough to make place and allow me to sit next to her,only to blissfully rest her head on my shoulder and to doze off open-mouthed.

Now I ain't complaining.On the contrary, I'm only too happy to be able to do a quick, much-needed brush up on the derivations.But soon it seems to be only next to impossible with the stereo blaring out raunchy regional numbers(Aaah ante amalapuram??!!).So I politely ask the conductor to turn it off and naively point out to the book in my lap.My request is met with no more than just plain indifference with the conductor not just smirking in her seat, but also tapping her feet to the blaring numbers (Whoever said that lady conductors are considerate!!).I can't help but smack my face when the 2 year old gets amused and tries to slavishly imitate me.Not that I dislike kids or anything,but at the same time I just can't help disliking those with running noses.

Just a few moments before the exam, I earnestly pray that out of the 4 sets of question papers,I get the one that I can answer well. But as always I end up getting the set that would have been an absolute sitter for some of my friends and they get ones that I would have been able to crack easily.Resolving not to cry over spilt milk but be happy that it's at least over, I'm in a mad rush to go home, when this time I find more buses going in the direction that's away from home.So I rush into the first one that stops by, not minding that I have to stand throughout the journey. Now that the gruelling three-hour exam's over, I'm all set to listen to any goddamn thing that can play on the stereo to pep up my mood, only to be told that the one in the bus isn't working.Now if only this was the case when I was on my way to college!!And just then I notice two empty buses pass by..

The irony isn't just with the outside world-My fingers keep itching terribly to play the piano when I'm bang in the middle of my exams.And the few pieces that I play come out so flawlessly that I promise myself to work hard on my limited repertoire after my exams.But ironically now, when I have all the time to do it, I make so many slip ups , that they keep jarring on my ears and my brain seems to lose its connection with my hands as my fingers refuse to move even a wee bit.Wondering how performers tackle their mood swings, I keep scouring the net for some excerpts from Vikram Seth's An Equal Music and get relieved to read the narration of the violinist's : "..I stumbled, my mind jammed, I felt the pressure of every breath. For two months I could do nothing.." I click the link featuring the interview with Vikram Seth.It reads: "..After A Suitable Boy, I didn't write anything, not even a short story.I thought to myself: I ought to start writing. But I can never force myself to write.." I suddenly remember my own blog that I haven't visited for ages.The last post's entry date flabbergasts me and I tell myself that I just can't force myself to write and soon after, I end up doing just that.

Word Game

2005-03-05T08:22:00.000-08:00

A spur-of-the-moment scrapping by Prashanth and me(with the accent on rhyming), not only gave us immense delight, but also left us amazed at our penchant for extemporization.

Prashanth:

Since you seem to be so good at spinning rhymes,
here's a little game for you :

If you're not averse
To writing another verse,
Here's a challenge to test your mind,
The idea is to reply in kind.

So lets play a little game,
The first round is, "What's in a name?"
Mine's simple, no need for alarm,
It symbolizes peace and calm.

But tell me, o lass of nineteen,
What in the world does Niyati mean??

Niyati:

Absolutely overwhelming to know,
That you too enjoy rhyming,
Which I earnestly adore,
So in the first round of this game,
Which is all about the name,
I shall rhyme,and try to explain,
The various meanings of my name.

The cosmic force,the very fulcrum,
-Of law n order in this world,
Known by the word-Destiny,
Has its Sanskrit equivalent-Niyati.

"Energy"-another form of this driving force,
Is the second meaning of which I could boast;
Niyati also means Discipline,Determination n Self-control,
And when put succinctly,it means life on the whole.

Prashanth:

(applause for our ace poet)

Since I know you enjoy music,
I want to ask about other things basic;
Can you dance and can you sing?
And what books do you love reading?

I read any book that can liberate
My mind from this world sedate,
Such as fantasy and science fiction -
Elves and dragons are my addiction.
Bows and swords and spells of power;
Spaceships and robots on the book cover!

Philosophy and adventure and mystery
Hell, I'll read anything but history!
I'll forget my watch when I read a book
Night or day, I don't look!

Oh, and by the way,
I must hasten to say
That I can't sing a song for nuts
And I have two left feet and no guts!!

P.S: I love this game;) Keep it going!!

Niyati:

Oh yes,why not?In this round two,
My other interests I shall tell you,
Are Astrology,Astronomy,Eating,Sleeping,
Reading,Writing and Punning too!

Humour's what I enjoy a lot,
That of Wodehouse,plus anything else of the sort;
Segal's heart-rending novels are what I like,
Also Vikram Seth's novels n sonnets alike.

Though not much into fantasy n science-fiction,
I simply love Rowling for her diction;
General reading is also what I indulge in,
Shashi Tharoor,Shobha De et al make my mind spin.

Theatre,Singing,Dancing,Art,in general,
Is what I love to be into,
Will soon give it all a try,
And hoping to succeed,
I end this round two.

Prashanth:

Oh, an allrounder I didn't expect,
But your enthusiasm I respect.
Stil, in rhyming, as good as you may be,
You've met your match in me!

The final round, dear girl,
Will truly make your hair curl!
For I mean to ask not about a book
But in guys what you look.

In a girl I look for certain things
The morals and principles to which she clings,
Honesty, integrity and compassion;
And for reading and writing a passion.
She must be idealistic yet realistic,
Pragmatic but optimistic.

She must be systematic but creative
Asks for little but always willing to give.
Head in the clouds but feet on the ground,
One who hears music in every sound.

Not exactly a short list, I know,
But now it is your turn to go!

P.S:I also love astronomy and theater

Niyati:

Oh! well,well well,
Playing this round three,
Should do nothin,but just make me,
Continue with my scrapping spree;

And prod me on to think about,
What I look for in a guy,
A fair combination of everythin,
-I conclude, and anythin but shy;

All about him that I can tell,is that,
He should be able to relate to me very well;
Someone who shares similar interests,
And believes in livin every moment,
To the fullest

Good looks are certainly welcome,
Without which I'd feel terribly numb;
Loyalty,Intelligence,Simplicity,
Humour n Creativity,
Are all what I look for,
A glint of mischief,
And oodles of unconditional love,for sure.

So having played this final round,
I'm afraid I haven't anythin more to say,
But let me tell you this,
That I enjoyed playing it anyway!

Change Forever

2005-01-14T06:07:00.000-08:00

Having wondered for long,
About what to write in my post,
'Cause there's nothing happening in my life,
Of which I could boast;

I cannot help but conclude,
That change is the only thing
happening in my life,
As Heraclitus puts it,
Nothing but only change,
Is what is constant in life.

Sometimes change for the better,
And still sometimes change for the worse,
At times I'm up and about,
And at times I'm downhearted and feeling low.

Sometimes,my mind is teeming with ideas,
Ideas that seem brilliant, bright and nice,
And the very next minute,they all vanish;
There'd been something better here otherwise.

Sometimes I'm glued to my books,
Religiously mugging up for my tests,
And soon,I'm gleefully doing nothing,
Merely idling away time is what seems to be the best.

And just when everything around,
Seems to be dull and drab,
It's only change coming to my rescue,
To put some pep into my life.

Change,Change is what we need,
For life to go on; to break the monotony.
Change,another change is what I need,
To set my mind to writing a better post,
For everyone to read.

Immortality Of Art

2004-12-16T23:23:00.000-08:00

Born exactly on today's date, more than two centuries ago, was one of history's greatest composers-Ludwig Van Beethoven. Born as the second child to a coarse, drunken Court Singer and musician, Beethoven's talent for music was soon realized.But perhaps it is his early rebellion against the arbitrary strictness of a ruthlessly overambitious father that formed Beethoven's strong and difficult personality.In a relentlessly mad pursuit of promoting his son as a child prodigy,after Mozart, Beethoven's father went to the extent of compelling him to practise for several hours every day and even box his ears as punishment for his imperfection in his playing.This could have been the reason for Beethoven's hearing disability,which he developed later while in his prime,even before composing his first symphony.However the genius in him made him overcome the untold miseries in his life and prod him on to rise much above his untenable circumstances.
A staunch revolutionary in spirit, Beethoven radically transformed every music form in which he worked.He boldly emancipated and democratized the art of music,composing out of the inner spirituality embedded within him rather than a virtuoso display material.It is to Beethoven that we owe the full emergence of the symphony as a repository for a composer's most important ideas.He expanded the coda form from a mere formal conclusion to a climactic splendour.In his slow movements,his music expressed a mystical exaltation,that can be seen in the first movement of Moonlight Sonata(one of my personal favourites).It is to Beethoven that the onset of the Romantic era in the western classical music is credited.He was instrumental in introducing the emotional elements into music,and giving those more weightage than to the formal or structural considerations.His dedication of Fur Elise to his ladylove, the mysterious Immortal Beloved, and that of Sonata No 8.Op 13(Pathetique) to his patron and friend,Prince Lichnowsky showed his softer side.
A true composer to the very end, Beethoven kept working at his tenth symphony, even on his deathbed.His death was a major event in Vienna, with large multitudes of grief-stricken crowds gathering to attend his funeral to pay their last tributes to the musical legend.
History seemed to have repeated itself just five days back in our very own country with the death of yet another doyen of classical music-Madurai Shanmukhavadivu Subbulakshmi. Renowned for her devotional songs and idiolised by millions for her mesmerising and soulful voice, M S became the most popular icon of Carnatic music.Born into a musical but impoverished family, M S came up the hard way in life, perhaps much the same way as Beethoven.The loss of her elder daughter,Radha-her vocal accompanist, emotional support and sympathetic companion, and later in 1998,her husband's death, were a major blow to her career.Like all other humble, unassuming artists,she was a lifelong learner who believed in the infinity of art.Until her last concert she continued to acquire compositions in several languages from a host of many a practitioner like Musiri Subramania Iyer, G.N. Balasubramanian, Sandhyavandanam Srinivasa Rao et al.The nation now mourns the death of this colossus of classical music.Chennai's December Season,the world's best showcase for Carnatic music,has been called off as a mark of respect to her.

But whether for Beethoven's musical exaltation or for M S' vocal magic, it can all be felt through the art performed by them 'cause it is art that is permanent;artists are impermanent.In W.H.Auden's elegy to Yeats, he writes:
"You were silly like us,
Your gift survived it all"

Beethoven's contribution to music is immensely large and he shall always be revered, honoured and remembered, everytime any of his compositions is played.And not a day shall go without me remembering M S,as I will continue performing my daily ritual of playing her CD of Adi Shankaracharya's Bhajagovindam and VishnuSahasranamam and chanting along with her in the mornings..

Simple Pleasures

2004-11-25T08:14:00.000-08:00

Holidays are always welcomed by me , especially after the tedious , perennial routine of writing exams. While mostly the concept of vacations is seen as a conscious activity to get away from the stress and strain of life , through weekend outings and holidays , to me , it isn't necessarily the same.
Time Out , for me , is when the clock does not dictate the frenzied regimen of life. Time Out , for me , is not something to be planned months ahead. In fact , it is when I can savour the simple , unconditional delights in life. The sun rising in awesome splendour on the horizon , and that too , uniquely different each day, leaves me marvelling at its creative blend of light and colour, that gradually spreads across the sky. This genuine joy is doubled , when nature all around and evernourishing , provides a feeling of sense and freedom.
Another aspect of my ways of deriving pleasures is by playing the piano , not just for myself , but for all those who enjoy listening to it. Apart from neighbours , visitors , when everything else that has life(plants, in particular)give signs of satisfaction; and when the tiny, colourful birds , that generally cluster round the exotic lake closeby, sit perched on the window-sill , seeming to have great and tranquil thoughts , in tandem with the music I play , it is all blessedly rejuvenating.
Vacations are also a time when I can cuddle up in the warmthof a sofa , with a novel in hand that I can keep reading for hours together , uninterrupted , till I eventually finish it. No nervous glances at the clock to keep track of time and no painful distractionsof some worthless assignments.This is when leisure and recreation getnaturally interwoven into the serene tempo of my life.
Enjoying high days and holidays is also a nice and easy way of unwinding oneself , where the spirit of worship is combined with the joyous activity of song, dance and music.Quite contrary to what
they are made out to be , these traditions and rituals are indeed a welcome-change to the otherwise mundane life of mine.Besides bringing family members together , they bring in an atmosphere of celestial joy and celebration.
Time Out , for me , is also going for long walks at nights, when people mostly stay indoors , tied up to their cosy , little homes.The long , deserted lanes set a calm and peaceful mood and I am all by myself, sitting at the pinnacle of the slippy-slide in the children's playground of my colony , that overlooks the lovely lake closeby. It being the winter season, there's a distinct nip in the air and the gentle breeze rippling the lake, sets its waters into a steadily rhythmic movement , in parallel with my thoughts.
All this makes for a very easy and convenient holiday and how these pleasures of mine are multiplied , when each day , I keep looking for even simpler ways of enjoying myself thoroughly on my own terms..

A Sequel to the Great Escape

2004-11-06T10:10:00.000-08:00

After having made good my escape(the Great Escape of my previous post), I was eagerly looking forward to yet another escape from the tedium of routine. Fortunately this time, I didn't have to resort to any kind of stunts. Instead, I just had to catch a train to XLRI , Jamshedpur by way of Kharagpur. This was an all-expense paid trip sponsored by XLRI to the 15 winners of Xpress-04(an exclusive online event that was conducted for the undergraduate students) from across the country.

"Ain't any one of you coming along?", was what I asked my family after I'd broken the news about Xpress-04. Raised eyebrows and "Why-me?" kind of expressions were all that I got as a reply. "Oh! Come on! Would you ever think of going there again in your lifetime?", was how I coaxed atleast my mother and sister into accompanying my teammates and me. Father, dear father preferred not to budge. The announcement of the winners of Xpress-04 was made at such a short notice, that it was only after inching through for mile-long hours at the booking-counter(it being the Dassera season as well),that I could finally make the railway-reservations.

It took us exactly 24 hours to reach Kharagpur.Another 2-hour journey by a connecting train from there, landed us safely in the Steel city of Tatanagar.Our destination ,we were told , was a twenty-minute drive from the station. Curiously enough, the auto-fares in Jamshedpur are fixed by the auto-drivers.This concept of autos without metres , reminded me of houses without doors in Shani-Singnapur , the neighbouring town of Shirdi. In Singnapur , there is no threat of a theft or robbery whatsoever, as the wrongdoers are miraculously believed to be punished by Shani-Bhagwan Himself.

Coming back to Jamshedpur , the twenty-minute drive in the unmetred auto-richshaw,helped me get a few glimpses of the city that I was in. Jamshedpur seemed a sleepy, little town with absolutely bumpy roads and dim street-lights. But these gradually gave way to old , palatial houses and as we approached our destination , the pinpoints of light that lay ahead of us, seemingly grew larger and larger and lo! Even before I could pause to think, we were already at the elite Xavier Labour Relations Institute.

The ambience of the place was something refreshingly different and new to me-though well past midnight, the campus was brimming with students everywhere.My mother and sister were taken to the MDP(Management Developement Programme) guest-house, my teammates to their dormitories and I to mine.As I was ushered into the large room, that was to house the female-participants, I was told that the only 2 other participants(from IIMB) hadn't arrived yet.The only company I had in the room then was a fat , ugly lizard...I was told that I could spend the night at the guest-house as well..

The fest Ensemble-04 was to start in the afternoon at 2.00 pm the next day(that it actually commenced at 4.00 pm is something beside the point..) So the morning was spent in exploring the place.The campus was a picturesque stretch of lush greenery , that ran into a few acres. It was undoubtedly a pretty place , that was conducive to concentrated study and even long , pleasant walks at anytime of the day.

Sir Jehangir Ghandy Library, overlooking the Administrative block, was my first place of discovery. A very compact place with a tranquil atmosphere-it became a spot I would visit every morning during the rest of my stay. I then walked over to the residential-section of the campus-this was where the institute's faculty members put up.After taking a glance at the lecture-halls , computer-labs and all , my laststop was at the students' mess for breakfast.The hard , rock-like idlis I had there , prodded me into swearing never again to refuse the ones made at home.

The rest of the day was spent in either barging into the students' room to interact with them or getting to know fellow-undergraduate teams(BITS-Ranchi ,CEC-Chennai , IITK and NIT-Rourkela) and attending Xquizzite, a quizzing event that kickstarted Ensemble-04. But the major controversy as far as we were concerned, was whether to allow us to come face to face with the participants of the B-schools , in the events, which we ended up watching as audience members, only to be told later that we too were eligible to participate!

Jamshedpur is not touristy by any stretch of imagination. But on the second day, we managed to indulge in the little shopping that we could afford to do.The market-place, Bistupur , lying in the heart of Jamshedpur , was a juxtapostion of contemporary buildings on one side of the road , and mediocre shops on the other side. While my mother and sister were busy in pursuit of the colourful stoles , I was madly on the lookout for Mishti-Dhoi , a Bengal sweet-dish of sweet curd and kesar , served in neat , little earthen-pots , somewhat similar to the Maharashtrian Shrikhand.This I learnt , was exclusively available in the adjoining locality , Sakchi. However Jamshedpur's major attraction , I was told , was the exotic Dimna-lake , located at a distance of 10 km from the city limits , at the foot of Dalma Hills. Tata Steel had constructed this lake as a water reservoir for its power-plant and the city. Unfortunately , I couldn't visit this salubrious location as I had to rush back to the venue to attend the rest of the events.

The final day was however , the most eventful with the informal events like the Treasure-Hunt taking place. The evening was made special by arranging a small prize-distribution ceremony for us , followed by a lavish dinner with the director of XLRI at the guest-house. My halcyon stay came to an end that night, when I had to catch a train back home.After 2 days, it was once again back to the daily grind of assignments, records and labs..

And when friends and people , in general , (lecturers in particular) asked me about my trip in 3 different versions , "How was your trip toJaipur?" , better still , "How was Jodhpur?" and finally , "How was your trip to Jamshedpur" , all that I could think of saying was that it was another Great Escape..

The Great Escape

2004-10-21T13:50:00.000-07:00

I could never relish the idea of being held down for hours together in classrooms under the stern gaze of the teachers. Having always been something of a rebel, I would perpetually ask my mother about the whole necessity of sending me to school."Why can't I learn at home?", I would ask her naively when I was in my nursery-school. She would answer me with another question-"Who can teach you at home?", to which I would immediately reply with gusto.. "You!!".
Honestly, I could never figure out my mother's logic of teaching strangers elsewhere , when I felt she could be doing very much the same with me at home. Nothing could be more enticing than to study at home and in general, live life on my own terms.This , it gradually transpired , was palpably not possible.
Today the picture is no different. I don't really fancy going to college , in that it's like the quicksand-once inside the premises , you are ruthlessly trapped. The prison-gates ceremoniously open again only after the ringing of the home-bell.
But this isn't a predicament at all for some-the boys always successfully manage to find their way out.If at one moment they are attending the IC class , the next moment they are at the food-joint outside the campus , joyfully hogging away to glory.And lo and behold ! After lunch, they are back with a bang and attending the Java(OOPs) lab with the rest of us. Only recently the information about the secret-passage to the outside world was cajoled out of them by me. The only way out I learnt , is to do a high-jump across the wall , adjacent to the principal's office , for the reason that it is the lowest , and reachable as well..
On the final day of my last internals , boredom took over.Moreover, no interesting classes in the afternoon-session..and this did nothing but make me feel more homesick.I don't believe in quietism , so that afternoon , I resolved to try my luck at the high jump.
Jumping across the six-feet high wall wasn't all that easy. Looking back ,
at the whole incident , I do not exactly remember as to how I managed it all..but finally I did it!!!...despite knowing that while doing so , I'd called the attention of some office-bearers , the watch-men and a couple of lecturers , and could probably become a part of a scandal in college( for having been the first girl to do such a daredevil act) and for which , I could even be flunked in my labs...
But all this seemed insignificant when compared to the moment of alacrity , triumph and exuberance that I experienced when I was in the sub-urban bus , on my way back home , after my Great Escape...

A Wild Goose Chase

2004-10-03T05:29:00.000-07:00

My fingers moved unsteadily over the badly chipped, once-upon-a-time-white keys of the century-old piano, causing an umpteen number of inconsistencies in the music of the old instrument.....
The antique pendulum clock on the wall struck four just then..when it occurred to me that it had been more than 6 hours of my rigorous practice and I hadn't got the hang of Robert Schumann's Fantaseistucken Op.111 yet...
As I kept sight-reading this group B exam piece , dawdling along the tricky bars 31-40 , my gaze shifted from the semi-quaver notes to the huge, awesomely life-like portraits of the colossi of the world of the western classical music-Mozart , Chopin , Beethoven , Handel , Liszt , Tchaikovsky , Elgar , Haydn and Schumann.
The last one mentioned was quite a bit hallucinatory...I could see Schumann literally glaring back at me , utterly disgusted with an amateur's unskilled attempts at his composition..Schumann was supposed to have composed Fantaseistucken during his last days, between unsuccessful suicidal attempts..And my attempt at the piece was no different..And to imagine that I would be performing the same piece for a Trinity (for the uninitiated, The Trinity College of Music, London.) examiner 4 days later...
Music undoubtedly has always been the heart of my life..but what started off as a mere hobby and nothing but a joyous activity at the tender age of ten , has turned out to be a nightmarish experience over the years...With absolutely no proper guidance with regard to either the selection or the technicalities of the pieces , Trinity exams are no child's play.
Adding fuel to fire, is the racist attitude of the Brit examiners and their stinginess in marks..the colonial hangover is still very much palpable...the white man still rules the roost......
But do marks make a student???...
Not in terms of musicianship atleast for me.....

The Final Beginning...

2004-10-02T02:03:00.000-07:00

Eventually it has dawned on me that it is only our mind that sets all kinds of limitations.For instance,I've been taking ages to start a blog..Reason??(Or rather,Excuse??)..
Perhaps I'll "have more time" after these long-drawn internals..or maybe after compiling these lengthy Java programs..or hang on..why not after my Grade 7(Solo Piano)exam??..perhaps it'll be a nice way to pour my heart out after I wouldn't even manage to scrape through??..period.
Better late than never..it has taken me 16 mile-long years(I suppose my thought-process had commenced at the age of 3) to realize the universal truth that 24 hours make a day..so where does the question of whether I "have time" or "have no time" arise??..all psychological..isn't it??

Hopefully a better blog next time...