You are currently browsing the monthly archive for November 2005.

Got these tips from this website … Its very true in my case.Thanks to the stumble upon extension for firefox.
1. Sit in a straight, comfortable chair in a well lit place in front of your computer.
2. Log onto MSN and ICQ (be sure to go on away!). Check your email.
3. Read over the assignment carefully, to make certain you understand it.
4. Walk down to the vending machines and buy some chocolate to help you concentrate.
5. Check your email.
6. Call up a friend and ask if he/she wants to go to grab a coffee. Just to get settled down and ready to work.
7. When you get back to your room, sit in a straight, comfortable chair in a clean, well lit place.
8. Read over the assignment again to make absolutely certain you understand it.
9. Check your email.
10. You know, you haven’t written to that kid you met at camp since fourth grade. You’d better write that letter now and get it out of the way so you can concentrate.
11. Look at your teeth in the bathroom mirror.
12. Grab some mp3z off of kazaa.
13. Check your email. ANY OF THIS SOUND FAMILIAR YET?!
14. MSN chat with one of your friends about the future. (ie summer plans).
15. Check your email.
16. Listen to your new mp3z and download some more.
17. Phone your friend on the other floor and ask if she’s started writing yet. Exchange derogatory emarks about your prof, the course, the college, the world at large.
18. Walk to the store and buy a pack of gum. You’ve probably run out.
19. While you’ve got the gum you may as well buy a magazine and read it.
20. Check your email.
21. Check the newspaper listings to make sure you aren’t missing something truly worthwhile on TV.
22. Play some solitare (or age of legends!).
23. Check out
24. Wash your hands.
25. Call up a friend to see how much they have done, probably haven’t started either.
26. Look through your housemate’s book of pictures from home. Ask who everyone is.
27. Sit down and do some serious thinking about your plans for the future.
28. Check to see if has been updated yet.
29. Check your email and listen to your new mp3z.
30. You should be rebooting by now, assuming that windows is crashing on schedule.
31. Read over the assignment one more time, just for heck of it.
32. Scoot your chair across the room to the window and watch the sunrise.
33. Lie face down on the floor and moan.
34. Punch the wall and break something.
35. Check your email.
36. Mumble obscenities.
37. 5am – start hacking on the paper without stopping. 6am -paper is finished.
38. Complain to everyone that you didn’t get any sleep because you had to write that stupid paper.
39. Go to class, hand in paper, and leave right away so you can take a nap.


Finally the cat is over. Seriously speaking, I never wanted to go for MBA. But the reason why I gave cat was I believe in destiny rather than me dictating my future, and it had worked so far.

Looking back to my school days, I never wanted to be in the sciences field. I used to love geography at that time. I always thought I will do my higher studies in geography. Then a horrible thing happened. I came out as the school topper. I was not bad in school, but never thought I will top, especially considering that I never studied Hindi, and I used to score low in that. In high schools, one can always get away mugging the previous year question papers (In fact it is true even in engineering colleges, with IIT being no exception). And fortunately or unfortunately they repeated the question paper and I cracked the paper. I still regret for the fact that I never learned Hindi, I believe it was a grave error committed by me. After my results, everyone advised me to go for engineering or medicine. And one person wisely advised me that I can always come back to geography anytime I want, and most of the people take it only as a hobby than a career. Oh boy! I believed him.

Then I thought, ok, let me try for medicine. I liked (still like!) human physiology a lot. So I opted for the stream Bio Maths (the plus two system didn’t have the exclusive bio stream). After a few days, Biochemistry and Botany started pulling me down. I started hating those subjects. At this time, I was faring very well in maths, and hence I made a prompt decision, and switched to the engineering stream.

In my 12th, my aim was clear the Kerala entrance exam and get into REC. Somehow I pulled off a miracle; I cleared JEE and reached IIT.  And that’s where I am right now.

In my third year as I was still searching around for my areas of interest, this crazy idea of belling the cat came to my mind. Instantaneously I joined the cat coaching classes. I attended the classes till the vacations, during which I went to GE Bangalore for my summer interns. This time, I accidentally found out my ‘area of interest’! Blimey! I realized I have the perseverance and dedication to go for research and development in materials science. Instantaneously I decided I am going to go for higher studies!

My cat preparations went off the rails this year. I started working for my higher studies applications. In between, came the auspicious occasion to “bell” the cat. The only thing which was driving me to go for belling the cat was my belief in destiny. I gave the exam. As expected, I screwed it up. I did what I can, but I believe, it needed more preparation from my part.

No regrets. I am happy that I am able to clear up and work harder to shatter my prejudices about destiny, and dictate my future. The oblivion regarding my future is no more! Yes! I am awake…. I am back to reality.

Wondering if it is the same destiny, which has made me what I am, that has helped me to break the shackles of  my blind belief in destiny! Shit, I am confused!

Here the power of positive thinking sees me through! I started believing in reality. Speaking about it, reality has a price to pay… Nothing comes off free. I know I need to work my way up, and I am confident about it.

Lessons I learnt after my attempt to bell the cat:

  1. I choose my destiny.
  2. Nothing comes for free.
  3. To be what I am and to achieve what I want to should be my aim.
  4. Finally don’t over plan myself. It’s not the path which I take matters, it’s my vision, my take on things and finally what I achieve, i.e. believe in long term goals than short term ones. Take things as it comes, keeping in mind my ultimate goal.

Now I have to mug for tomorrow’s test. I don’t want to goof it up. (See, I am already on track!!)

I am plagiarizing this idea from a blog which I happen to stumble upon recently.

Last week, I tried to read “The Unbearable Lightness of Being” by Milan Kundera. It started off well, in fact very well, and I immediately fell for it. It became unbearable as I proceeded further, and right now I am not in a position to continue it any further.An excerpt from the first chapter of the book:

“The idea of eternal return implies a perspective from which things appear other than as we know them: they appear as without mitigating the circumstance of their transitory nature. The mitigating circumstance prevents us from making a verdict. For how can we condemn something that is ephemeral, in transit? In the sunset of dissolution, everything is illuminated by the aura of nostalgia, even the guillotine.
Not long ago, I caught myself experiencing a most incredible sensation. Leafing through a book on Hitler, I was touched by some of his portraits: they reminded me of his childhood. I grew up during the war, several members of my family perished in Hitler’s concentration camps; but what were their deaths compared with the memories of a lost period of my life, a period that would never return?
This reconciliation with Hitler reveals the profound moral perversity of a world that rests essentially on the non existence of return, for in this world everything is pardoned in advance and therefore everything is cynically permitted.”

My take:
Leave out the pardoning part. I, so far always felt that the priceless moments are the ones which will never eternally return. I can only fantasize those moments. True, these memories are invaluable. The fact that I can never physically experience or accomplish them makes it precious. But there are moments that are equally enjoyable that happen very often.Most of the times we tend to trivialize these priceless moments that recur, many a times we never tend to notice those moments. If I think about myself, curd is something that can drive me into a frenzy. I have curd daily. But if I happen to be deprived of it, those golden moments of me relishing the curd in my home will come to my mind. We never tend to associate any value to such issues anymore. True, a thing becomes valuable only when the demand is less than the supply. But aren’t we neglecting such moments??

My favorites (in no particular order) include:

  1. Curd Rice
  2. Tender Mango Pickle
  3. Getting drenched in the rain
  4. Standing on the seashore, with my trousers folded up so as not to get it wet. However, I have never managed to get away without bedraggling my trousers
  5. Going to a small temple in a village on a fine evening, and sitting under the banyan tree, enjoying the gentle breeze.
  6. The whiff of soil damped with the first rain of the season.
  7. Going to places alone, in an unreserved compartment, observing the people around me
  8. November Rain (Song by Guns n Roses)
  9. To laugh until it hurts my stomach
  10. To wake up and realize it is possible to sleep for 10 more minutes
  11. Unexpected guests
  12. To see an old friend again, and talk about our friends with him/her
  13. To see that someone younger to me, asking the same questions which I used to ask at his/her age.
  14. To go for a midnight stroll on a deserted foggy night.
  15. The last exam before vacations!
  16. The first day back home!
  17. The fact that I am not able to conclude the list!

Dasan’s Tag… Wondering if the train is reaching a dead end
He thought it would be an ordinary journey. Standing behind the pillar he watched the train snort arrogantly into the station. With each snort he was reminded of his grandfather’s words “You will fail in the city and return penniless”; with every heavenward whistle, he heard his cousin, “Don’t worry. Come here and I will get you a job at the construction site.” Now he had a 34-hour journey to prove one of them wrong, and he expected the excitement at the end of the journey. He looked at his ticket once again: compartment S9 berth 23.

Pushing his luggage under the seat, he sat close to the window. “Papa, when will you be back?” – his four year old daughter Munni asked innocently.He stared into those soft brown eyes of the motherless kid. He held her frail palms in his, through the window. “Munni, Papa will get you a nice gudiya from the city..Say tata,” his sister spoke to the kid, to avoid an emotional outburst. In a minute, the train pulled forward, and Munni’s little fingers parted from between his. “I need to go..”, he thought, “I have to, at least for Munni’s sake..”

The humid summer breeze and the rattling train coaxed him into an uncomfortable state of drowsy consciousness. He dreamt that Munni ran away, the closer he ran to her, the farther she was, like a mirage. He woke up with a start and squinted at his watch.”What is the time please?”A smallish woman, a meek voice as if she was scared that her existence would annoy someone. Her only noticeable feature was her rather large, expressive eyes.”4.30″Something made him look at the woman again. He had stopped noticing women long back. Ever since Meenakshi passed away…

But this woman was different. She reminded him of someone he knew. In an instant he realized who and the painful memories came flooding back. She looked exactly like his childhood sweetheart Madhu. As teenage lovers in a conservative society, they had often met secretly and had declared undying love for each other.

Then someone had found out and all hell had broken loose. The elders in the village Panchayat had ostracized Madhu’s family as she was from a lower caste. Unable to bear the humiliation, she had committed suicide by drowning. That was twelve years back…

Could it be? Could it really be him? He seems different, weary and downcast.
Oh no will he recognise me? No, I am dead to the
world. Still she cautiously wrapped her saree end around her head and across her face.
Behind the cotton screen, her mind drifted to happier
times, languid strolls in the corn fields, games at the riverbed, his gentle caress, whispered sweet nothings, stolen glances at the temple fair.

Tempted to take one last look, she consoled herself that he wouldn’t notice.

Slowly she lifted her eyes only to find Rupak staring back at her.

She quickly glanced the other way.

No, this girl looks too close to be any other person. She is infact Madhu!! “Hey, Madhu!” he called.

She struggled hard not to respond to that call. And successfully managed it too.

Hey Madhu, you forgot me?” he inquired her and came closer.

The old lady sitting opposite to him was looking at this unapprovingly.

“No, you are mistaken, My name is not Madhu.. I am Supriya”, she lied.

Hey Ram! a young girl cannot travel safely in this country without being stalked!” the old lady muttered angrily.

The girl walked briskly away from him, trying to escape his glances, as though she was hiding something, not wanting to be discovered. He stood confused, she had said her name wasn’t Madhu, and should he run after her? Or should he let it pass, after all he still had a train to catch.

His heart told him it was Madhu, followed her, all thoughts about going to the city vanished; he was on delighted to have met Madhu after such a long time. He was filled with memories of their time together. He finally caught up
with her. Looking into her eyes he said, ‘Why Madhu? Why this to me?’

“Please dont lie to me anymore”; sounding more like the Mani he used to be ten years back when he had first met her at the Village temple, rather than the arrogant side that seemed to rule his life now. “I know it is you, nobody else but you Madhu”. Tears roll down her cheecks as she tries to remember why they ended up this way. Was it destiny or fate that they had to meet now?

As she speaks up, the train which for a while had be at a halt, slowly starts to move.

“I was asked by the Panchayat to leave the village. They said they’d manage by saying I’d drowned. Everyone was led into believing I was drowned. I went to the towns, so no one would recognise me. My family disowned me. I struggled to live. Anyway, it’s all made me too immune.
Life being a struggle is passé to me! I’ve learnt it t
he hard, cold and sharp way.”

“But Madhu, you could have written to me…”

“It’s all over between us Mani. You are now Rupak. I am now Mita. We couldn’t possibly….”

Train no where in sight.

  • He was jolted into consciousness.

    Somebody had yanked the chain.
    Some talked of escape. Some, of someone jumping the train.
    Others of how this someone had failed.

    Alarms rang in his head. Madhu!

    Breathe! He commanded his senses.
    She wouldn’t. Perhaps she went to the toilet, he reasoned.

    He took out a checkered handkerchief from his breast pocket, delicately took off his glasses, and wiped his forehead.

    Down, he saw the book lying on the floor.
    He shook his head in disbelief.

    He got off his seat, onto his haunches and looked for his pen.

  • He could not find his pen and neither could he find peace.

    A reassuring yes is all he was looking for…..Alas! ’twas still coming.

    Then he turned his attention towards the book and what he read was not immensely satisfying. This made him think of what he had seen….how can this happen? Perhaps I am overreacting or maybe not…

    He saw the old lady sleeping in peace and thoughts of Munni comforted him, only for a while though. All the chit chatter made no difference to him and hence he decided that he needed to do something.

    He rushed towards the door and saw a crowd which made him fear the worst. Delightfully, the outlook of the gathering was not serious enough to make him feel jittery, but he still needed to find someone, he lit up a cigarette and started gazing at the moon

    He paused for a moment. Closed his eyes and blew out a stream of smoke.
    He had start smoking when Meenakshi had passed away. Anything to ease the pain he had thought. The melancholic tale of the lonely heart is one
    which repeats itself much too often. He still wondered how he made it through those days. Those terrible days that had sequestered him, from
    which no one thought he would never recover. But he did.

    “Papa…” He heard Munni’s voice in his head. That one word was perhaps the only reason he was still alive.

    There was something about the vision that continued to torment his lost soul. Fate had landed many a misery on him in the past and he was so sadly bereft of hope, that sanity often took a step backwards in his disoriented psyche.The image of the woman he saw danced about his mind, mocking his helplessness, and conquering him with the pain. And at the wretched moment when the omen finally won him over, he threw his cigarette and ran to the door. He looked outside at the landscape roaring past, and the bridge approaching him from the distance, and let loose the grip on the steel rod that was holding him.

  • He felt the strong current blowing on his face. ‘This is the end of a wasted life’. He thought. Suddenly his past rushed into his vacant mind. It has been a solitary journey since his parents waved him goodbye forever from the very train in which he is travelling. Many faces he met, most of them left, before he could realize it. ‘I am a free bird now’… he thought. Suddenly, a lightning struck his mind. Instantaneously darkness faded away from his eyes. He felt someone is holding his other hand. He turned around. “Madhu!


    Everything below the dashed line above should be copied and pasted with every accepted tag

    This is a Story Tree and is best nurtured as follows: 1. A blogger can add only 90-100 words (not more or less) at a time 2. All previous snippets of 90-100 words need to be copied before the new set of 90-100 words are appended. 3. Each entire snippet should be linked to the respective author (and not just the first sentence or so) 4. Characters, scenes, etc. can be introduced by an author 5. Bizarre twists, sci-fi, fantasy sequences are best avoided. 6. A tag must be accepted within 7 days else the branch is a dead branch 7. After appending 90-100, the Story Tree can be passed on to at most 3 bloggers. 8.
    If more than 1 branch leads to a blogger, s/he is free to cho
    ose any one of them but cannot mix the snippets of the individual branches. 9. The Story Tree is best left to grow than concluded 10. Please attach the image of the Story Tree below with each accepted tag (the link address can be copied and used).

    I tag Raghu, Chintu and LC.

    Hope they won’t break the branch, while trying to bell the ‘cat’ sitting on the tree..

    I wept today also. There is something in the rain that makes me lugubrious. Still I never hated the rain. In fact I have always been in love with the rain. A relationship with someone whom I always loved, someone who always made me cry. For the past one month, I have been nostalgic for some or the other reason. I still am nostalgic. In the beginning I was blissfully nostalgic, with the sweet cherished memories of my childhood coming back to me quite often. Now it has become melancholic.

    Looking back, the first incident connected with rain that I remember is meandering with my childhood friend in the courtyard in front of our house. We were actually sailing through the water, with the designer umbrella in one hand, and a paper boat in the other. Then suddenly a wind blows, and the umbrella flies away from my hand. We both start chasing the umbrella, and I can hear my mom’s loud voice asking us to get back.

    The next thing I remember is, I am sitting alone in the balcony of my house. I have grown much older. It is raining heavily outside, and I am relishing the sensation created by the water sprinkles which come with the breeze on to my face. I am trying to capture the whiff of the soil which came along with the cold breeze.

    Till this, I am perfectly happy. Now the sad part comes. I am sitting on my bed, gazing through the window. I can see a person who is totally drenched hurrying towards our house. Looks like I need to welcome that person. Sadly he never reaches our house… I realize this person is non existent. I am feeling very lonely. Suddenly my mind goes into doldrums. All the bad moments of my life so far comes in, frame by frame. The opportunities I missed, the people I am missing, suddenly the solitude that I was enjoying, makes me weep. The worst part (or good part rather!) is, I don’t want to get away from this solitude. I always love this moment. These are the priceless moments of my life. These moments keep reminding me about who I am and where I stand. And I would like to be reminded always…

    I always loved the rain… and will always be my first love.

    “It rained in Macondo for four years, eleven months, and two days. There were periods of drizzle through which everyone put on his dress and a convalescent look to celebrate the clearing, but people soon grew accustomed to interpret the pauses as a sign of redoubled rain. The sky crumbled into a set of destructive storms and out of the north came hurricanes that scattered roofs about and knocked down walls and uprooted every last plant of the banana groves.” — From One Hundred Years of Solitude.

    I wish I were in Macondo.

    (I have been having this feeling since my fifth class. Though the incidents are different, the basic underlying feelings remain the same)

    Age 3: The first day I remember about my LKG, is a fine sunny day and I am crying and following my mother out of my class room. The KG teacher is trying to put me on hold. My first movie in theatre, a Malayalam movie named Vaishali. I remember this because I swallowed my ring on that day, which led to a lot of complications.

    Age 4: I started to write with my right hand. (I used to write with left hand till then, and that too the mirror image of all alphabets!)

    1st Standard: Started playing and watching cricket.I lost my first teeth, I removed it myself, and kept it inside a small purse.

    2nd Standard: kabbadi and beach. Started reading Balarama, Poompatta, unnikkuttan, Ambili Ammavan, Tinkle etc.

    3rd Standard: started freaking out with friends. Started eating chewing gums, pickles, ice and all the food stuff you could think about in a small village shop. I had more than 5 teeth in my collection, my mom found out, threw them away.

    4th Standard: My first excursion from school. It was to Alappuzha, a place famous for backwaters in Kerala. My first English movie: Bruce Lee’s “Enter the Dragon.”My first Crush.

    5th Standard: Learned how to ride a cycle.

    6th Standard: My first year with spectacles. (I packed it when I was in 8th, but got once more in 12th). The first English Novel that I read, The hound of Baskervilles by A C Doyle

    7th Standard: Badminton. My second Crush. My first Mallu Novel: Ummaachu by Uroob. My first movie with friends.

    8th Standard: I became my class representative. Started Watching Star Movies.

    9th Standard: The first day I used a telephone (I mean our own telephone).

    10th Standard: Learned to ride a scooter, started eating non veg. Learned How to use a computer

    11th Standard: My first days in a hostel, started traveling alone (now I enjoy it!). Also I lost count of my crushes.

    12th Standard: I learned to use internet, Pornography.

    Engg. 1st year: Table Tennis, Started talking in English, also started traveling alone to madras. Playing Holi, Night outs, last day Xeroxing and mugging!

    2nd Year: Coordships, Secretary Posts. Started putting effort to learn Tamil (I can manage it now) Rock Music, Yahoo Messenger and all comp related stuff like removing hard discs, RAM, installing OS/ Softwares etc. Also learnt German (remember nothing now!)

    3rd Year: Orkutting, Blogging, got my driving license and passport. Had an exposure to the corporate world.

    4th Year: Bunking classes, realized the importance of networking, and still learning…