I know a dog, a black Labrador, owned by a friend of mine. He is huge and fat, being very well cared for, and also lazy, except when it comes to visitors to my friend's home. If you love dogs, you'll probably fall in love with him the moment you see him, like I did, and you'll never have a peaceful moment during your visit, since the dog will simply try to jump on you and tear you up in his excitement. If you show the slightest sign of being scared, God bless you. This is a dog that likes to scare people for fun, and will capitalize handsomely on the slightest sign of fear that you show.
But there are other animals in our lives too, besides the pets of our friends. Most of us do not bother to think about them, simply because they don't really have a ground shattering effect on our lives.
This junior in college recently brought to me a little box, containing three little baby rats. They were almost newly born, not more than a week old, and could sniff around, though not one could open its eyes. The mother may have abandoned them, but my juniors didn't have the heart to. They even inquired at a vet's if there was any sort of protective vaccination available. Sadly there was none, but last I heard, they have been trying to devise effective ways of feeding the little babies.
Then there's this mother cat in my hostel, who moves around with two beautiful kittens that bear the same colouring that she does. Kittens are such tiny delicate creatures. Cats are known to be rather aloof: they don't like being petted the way dogs do. They don't trust humans too much either. I managed to touch the cat, but she was averse to it and showed it too. The kittens moved away entirely from my range of touch.
The kitten tale reminds me of the kitten on Borivali Station in Mumbai. Another little baby probably abandoned by its mother, or perhaps orphaned. Feeble and cold, it tried to warm itself by sitting between my legs. My friend and I realized that we could not possibly take the kitten back with us, since neither he nor I would be able to take care of it properly. We tried to feed it, and it responded by climbing up into my lap on its own.
On a jog one cold morning in October, another friend and I found a litter of five pups lying bang in the middle of the road with no mother. It's common enough for the mother to give birth just about anywhere, though she does try to find a warm place which could be safe too. Stray dogs die easily, because if they aren't poisoned by unscrupulous householders or crushed by speeding vehicles, they are killed in fights with other dogs. These pups weren't newborn, but they didn't land up in the middle of the road by accident and were shivering badly. We thought to shift them to the bushes by the side of the road, and perhaps get some kind of cloth to serve as a blanket. The puppies didn't object to being touched, but the wail set up by them on being picked up brought the mother out of the nearby bushes where she had been resting onto the road, barking angrily. That was unnerving, but still reassuring. All mothers are indeed fiercely protective of their young.
Another jogging trip brought us to another puppy, this time alone, with no mother or siblings in sight. Pups are never born alone, but always in a litter, and while growing they rarely move far from each other. This little one had strayed away quite a bit, and though shivering in the cold, was not weak. It was sniffing quietly, looking lost and sad. My friend and I were wiser this time, and only remained with it till it wandered off on its own. It didn't object outright to being touched, but I don't think it liked it either. Stray dogs seem to be born with a sort of instinctive fear of being touched by humans. They need to be taught to like the touch, as pet dogs do.
I am reminded of the time when a young neighbour of mine brought to me a baby squirrel that he had found. That one had fallen out of its hole or nest wherever that was, and the mother hadn't retrieved it yet. If left on the ground without protection, the baby was likely to be eaten by a larger animal such as a cat or dog, which was why my friend picked it up. Squirrels hate to be touched even more than cats do, and this one had to be held cunningly so that it couldn't escape. It did manage to free its head for a few seconds though, and neatly sank its front teeth into my hand. They have really sharp teeth, needed for cutting and breaking through the seeds, nuts and pods that they eat. I am a creature large enough to be able to bear the pain of a squirrel bite, but that was a moment to be treasured, being bitten by a squirrel.
This other time, a squirrel got lost in my house. It found its way in and couldn't get out. For three days my mother and I chased it all through the house from room to room, and finally managed to corner it behind a door. I would have liked to tame it and keep it as a pet, but my folks won't abide animals, so I received the honour of releasing it back into the domestic wild from whence it came.
There was also once a toad that jumped into the kitchen, and this one we trapped under a bucket and led out of the house. And there was also the occasion when a young sparrow found its way into our house. At night too, so it took an hour of chasing and constantly light switching to enable it to find its way to the open air outside. That didn't help completely either, because the best we were able to do was guide it to the room with the largest window. We had to trap it and then release it. It wasn't a full grown adult; it could be held easily with two fingers and a thumb. The beating of its heart was faster and harder than I'd ever felt in my own pulse.
There is this lady who sells roasted corn stalks in the evenings right outside the college gate. There is a dog that frequents her stall, though keeping a distance, hoping to salvage a few grains from discarded stalks once people finish eating. My friend and I fed it a few grains at first one evening, feeling sorry for it. It wouldn't come any closer than five feet to us, so we left the grains on the sidewalk a little bit away. It lapped up the grains hungrily, not leaving a single one. We couldn't help it. We tore out and gave the remaining grains from the stalk as well. Even the gift of food wouldn't encourage enough trust in the animal to come closer to us. We had to leave everything at a safe distance from ourselves to encourage him to eat it. The slightest extension of a hand would drive him away.
There are a few dogs that frequent the tea stalls outside college in the mornings. These dogs are often fed biscuits by the people who come to jog on the college grounds. I once expressed a desire to my friend, the owner of the black Labrador, to feed them too. "Do it," he said. "I assure you, you won't ever regret it."
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
The Bad Credit Hotel
The biggest news at the moment is how the United States market has crashed, how millions of people have been left homeless due to foreclosures, how so many investors have lost their life savings due to bad loans and bad debts, and how many companies have been taken over or filed for bankruptcy. Not just in the US of A, but the whole world as well.
Meanwhile, the blame for this comes down not just to head honchos for making irresponsible decisions, but to every individual on his own for fueling an existence based on virtual money that doesn't exist, including bad financial behaviour such as taking loans you can't possibly pay back, and paying using credit that you can't possibly fulfill.
No comments from me on the matter: I've been trying to read and understand the matter but I am not a financial expert of any kind. I don't understand all these complicated investment matters and new schemes that keep floating around; I'm of the old school. But I do understand a few basic things: Buy now, pay later is a scheme that leads inevitably towards ruin, one must never spend more than what one has in one's wallet, and there is absolutely no excuse for spending needlessly.
People will still indulge in credit schemes though: the temptation to be able to own something right now and pay for it leisurely is too difficult to resist for most humans. The United States Treasury Department brought out this little idea to teach people to respect the institution of credit and use it properly, to avoid ruin. I've played the game. It's a little boring, since I don't have the patience to read through all those pieces of advice, and besides the rules don't apply exactly to me, since I do not reside in the United States. But the idea is likable indeed.
Have a go. You've got nothing to lose.
Meanwhile, the blame for this comes down not just to head honchos for making irresponsible decisions, but to every individual on his own for fueling an existence based on virtual money that doesn't exist, including bad financial behaviour such as taking loans you can't possibly pay back, and paying using credit that you can't possibly fulfill.
No comments from me on the matter: I've been trying to read and understand the matter but I am not a financial expert of any kind. I don't understand all these complicated investment matters and new schemes that keep floating around; I'm of the old school. But I do understand a few basic things: Buy now, pay later is a scheme that leads inevitably towards ruin, one must never spend more than what one has in one's wallet, and there is absolutely no excuse for spending needlessly.
People will still indulge in credit schemes though: the temptation to be able to own something right now and pay for it leisurely is too difficult to resist for most humans. The United States Treasury Department brought out this little idea to teach people to respect the institution of credit and use it properly, to avoid ruin. I've played the game. It's a little boring, since I don't have the patience to read through all those pieces of advice, and besides the rules don't apply exactly to me, since I do not reside in the United States. But the idea is likable indeed.
Have a go. You've got nothing to lose.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Marble Dreams
When the high Creator decided to bestow stone on the planet, in its myriad shapes, textures, colours and forms, little did the Mighty One, or anyone else for that matter (if they existed) realize that one of the most fascinating stones would be that with the perfect shape, the smoothest texture, the purest white colour, the most dazzling form. A stone so highly prized people dreamt of having it as their floor, because nothing speaks of affluence so much as the ability to have the whitest stone below the feet, used for the basic purpose of a living surface, when so many people could not afford even cheap stone for it, and lived on a surface of mud.
Marble. A stone that fascinates. A stone that is fascinating, because though it is abundant, it is highly prized and highly sought after. Especially pure, white, blemish-free marble, of the variety that was used to create the Taj Mahal, is very highly desired. At least it is, by a older generation of people who defined class by the ability to walk on marble floors. People nowadays prefer tiles of various kinds; those are much easier to clean, and don't really get very dirty in the first place.
Marble is not a precious stone. Indeed, it is not so precious that humans would give it the kind of importance that rubies or diamonds have: the honour of being worn upon the human body has not been granted to marble. But marble is an expensive and beautiful stone for construction, and is in that field, treated like diamond. Temples, community halls and other places of public use and worship are created using marble, the outer facades and porches of huge mansions are made with marble. The average middle class houseowner doesn't use marble for his floor; there are cheaper and more convenient floors available. Thus comes the idea that anyone who uses marble for his floor must be rather affluent indeed, and must be enjoying the greatest of joys and comforts.
My left foot and my right eyeball. This very same marble is a pain in the neck for me, because my mother, subscribing to the same old school of thought, installed marble floors in her house, making it impossible for me to move about the house, whether it be my body or the furniture I work upon, for fear of damaging the beautiful white floor. I am under strict orders to never even contemplate shifting any furniture, which would inevitably involve running the risk of scratching the floor. I'm sick of this. I wish I could move normally. I wish I could move my table the way I like without having to worry about scratching the floor. I wish I didn't have to worry about spilling anything onto the floor (because if the marble gets stained there's no way to remove the stain). I wish I didn't have to deal with the extraordinary amount of fine dust that creeps into the marble and eats it away, if the marble is not cleaned everyday. I wish I didn't have to worry about accidentally using acidic cleaners to clean the floor (because if you mix acid with CaCO3, which is what marble is, you're going to get a salty residue that would be the permanent ruin of your expensive marble).
But all the same, you have to admit it: the marble is magnificent. There's nothing to match the feeling of beautiful, sparkling, cold white stone that feels like butter when you sit upon it, after you've given it a thorough scrubbing. You feel royal, you feel like the queen sitting upon her throne, only the throne is not just a chair that you sit on, but has extended to become the very floor you live on. And this is why the old school, brought up to live life at just the right pace - neither unbearably slow nor excruciatingly fast - who didn't need to worry about spilling stuff or dragging furniture, harboured visions of pure cold white stone - marble dreams.
Marble. A stone that fascinates. A stone that is fascinating, because though it is abundant, it is highly prized and highly sought after. Especially pure, white, blemish-free marble, of the variety that was used to create the Taj Mahal, is very highly desired. At least it is, by a older generation of people who defined class by the ability to walk on marble floors. People nowadays prefer tiles of various kinds; those are much easier to clean, and don't really get very dirty in the first place.
Marble is not a precious stone. Indeed, it is not so precious that humans would give it the kind of importance that rubies or diamonds have: the honour of being worn upon the human body has not been granted to marble. But marble is an expensive and beautiful stone for construction, and is in that field, treated like diamond. Temples, community halls and other places of public use and worship are created using marble, the outer facades and porches of huge mansions are made with marble. The average middle class houseowner doesn't use marble for his floor; there are cheaper and more convenient floors available. Thus comes the idea that anyone who uses marble for his floor must be rather affluent indeed, and must be enjoying the greatest of joys and comforts.
My left foot and my right eyeball. This very same marble is a pain in the neck for me, because my mother, subscribing to the same old school of thought, installed marble floors in her house, making it impossible for me to move about the house, whether it be my body or the furniture I work upon, for fear of damaging the beautiful white floor. I am under strict orders to never even contemplate shifting any furniture, which would inevitably involve running the risk of scratching the floor. I'm sick of this. I wish I could move normally. I wish I could move my table the way I like without having to worry about scratching the floor. I wish I didn't have to worry about spilling anything onto the floor (because if the marble gets stained there's no way to remove the stain). I wish I didn't have to deal with the extraordinary amount of fine dust that creeps into the marble and eats it away, if the marble is not cleaned everyday. I wish I didn't have to worry about accidentally using acidic cleaners to clean the floor (because if you mix acid with CaCO3, which is what marble is, you're going to get a salty residue that would be the permanent ruin of your expensive marble).
But all the same, you have to admit it: the marble is magnificent. There's nothing to match the feeling of beautiful, sparkling, cold white stone that feels like butter when you sit upon it, after you've given it a thorough scrubbing. You feel royal, you feel like the queen sitting upon her throne, only the throne is not just a chair that you sit on, but has extended to become the very floor you live on. And this is why the old school, brought up to live life at just the right pace - neither unbearably slow nor excruciatingly fast - who didn't need to worry about spilling stuff or dragging furniture, harboured visions of pure cold white stone - marble dreams.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
The Tortoise and the Hare - Extended Version
One day the hare was getting bored. He decided to challenge the tortoise to a race, thinking it would be fun to tease the tortoise about how slow he was. The tortoise accepted the challenge, and on the day of the race, things happened according to the old fable. The hare slept off in his arrogance, and by the time he awoke and reached the finish line, the tortoise had already won.
The hare was extremely unhappy. He knew he was the faster animal, so the next day he challenged the tortoise again. The tortoise couldn't refuse, of course. As expected, the hare, having learnt his lesson, stuck to the race and won it.
Now the tortoise was the unhappy one, feeling that his hard work had come to nought. He challenged the hare to a third race the next day, which the hare couldn't refuse. The hare started running, thinking that the tortoise was stupid as well as slow, since he couldn't possibly win. But suddenly he was brought to a standstill, and could go no further. He had reached a deep river, and there was no bridge to cross it. He remained stumped at the riverside, while along came the tortoise, who swam across the river, reached the finish line and won the race again.
What was the outcome of this? The hare and the tortoise became friends. On land, one was the powerful one; in the water, it was the other. There wasn't any point in striving against each other.
Life's like that, too.
Story related by my favourite teacher in college.
The hare was extremely unhappy. He knew he was the faster animal, so the next day he challenged the tortoise again. The tortoise couldn't refuse, of course. As expected, the hare, having learnt his lesson, stuck to the race and won it.
Now the tortoise was the unhappy one, feeling that his hard work had come to nought. He challenged the hare to a third race the next day, which the hare couldn't refuse. The hare started running, thinking that the tortoise was stupid as well as slow, since he couldn't possibly win. But suddenly he was brought to a standstill, and could go no further. He had reached a deep river, and there was no bridge to cross it. He remained stumped at the riverside, while along came the tortoise, who swam across the river, reached the finish line and won the race again.
What was the outcome of this? The hare and the tortoise became friends. On land, one was the powerful one; in the water, it was the other. There wasn't any point in striving against each other.
Life's like that, too.
Story related by my favourite teacher in college.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Life Without a Camera
I'm depressed. Well, not really. I'm just unhappy about my camera. Its power supply circuit seems to have some problem, so it ain't working, and I'm sad coz of that.
May be weird, but it's justified. I love my camera. It's a very simple old model, and there are much better ones available on the market today. But I am attached to this one, because of the simple awesome pix I have taken with it. It has come with me wherever I have gone, and I have gone so snap-happy all over the place, it's hard to imagine life without it.
Sure, there's a lot of trash floating around about how the best pictures and the best memories are always in the mind, and can never be captured on a cam, and so on and so forth. Get real. We live in a material world, and I like to have something solid and real to look at, when I'm remembering an old friend or a nice trip. Taking a trip down Memory Lane is a lot simpler and a lot more lively when you have the photo to look at, of each turn and twist of the lane. Besides, it always feels good to look at th3e reminder of what you've done - the photograph taken by your camera.
My cam needs repair. Hopefully I'll be able to find a place that will repair it well enough that it stays repaired. You can't trust anyone these days.
May be weird, but it's justified. I love my camera. It's a very simple old model, and there are much better ones available on the market today. But I am attached to this one, because of the simple awesome pix I have taken with it. It has come with me wherever I have gone, and I have gone so snap-happy all over the place, it's hard to imagine life without it.
Sure, there's a lot of trash floating around about how the best pictures and the best memories are always in the mind, and can never be captured on a cam, and so on and so forth. Get real. We live in a material world, and I like to have something solid and real to look at, when I'm remembering an old friend or a nice trip. Taking a trip down Memory Lane is a lot simpler and a lot more lively when you have the photo to look at, of each turn and twist of the lane. Besides, it always feels good to look at th3e reminder of what you've done - the photograph taken by your camera.
My cam needs repair. Hopefully I'll be able to find a place that will repair it well enough that it stays repaired. You can't trust anyone these days.
Monday, August 25, 2008
DRDO (Disaster Reaches out and Destroys Opportunity)
I am usually lucky, but I have the worst of bad luck if it ever happens to me. I sat for a job interview with DRDO (Defence Research and Development Organization), the Indian defence technology unit, which is supposed to be a research based job, and which will take only the best, though it pays the same as any ordinary software company. I was eligible so I sat for it, and it happened to be the worst thing in terms of an interview that ever happened to me.
I had a splitting headache in the morning as soon as I woke up. Yet I couldn't cancel out on the interview, because that would be the worst thing to do in the face of the Don, the head of our Training and Placement Department. I called him and asked him if I could cancel, but he snappily asked me to get dressed, take whatever medicine I wanted and get to the interview room asap. He offered to send his car if I wanted. So with my head spinning, not having bathed, and my portfolio in pieces, I landed up for the interview.
I was not prepared for a core based interview. I hadn't sat for one before, and I had no clue of the sort of questions they liked to ask. As a result I made a fool of myself there. I couldn't answer simple basic questions that I'm supposed to know as an electrical engineer, and now I wonder whether I should be given the degree of an engineer at all. The panelists actually commented, that I was giving answers that were too generic, and I seemed more interested in electronics based subjects rather than electrical.
My Head of Department was on the panel too. That was a shock, because then it felt like a viva session, and I am bad at viva sessions. To top it all I was staring at him for the first few minutes, and I was wondering whether it was really him, or just a guy that looked like him. It was only after he spoke that I was sure, because I recognized the voice. It was embarrassing, because I gave all those horrible, generic answers and made a fool of myself right in front of my HOD. The icing on the cake came when one panelist asked me to name the subjects we were studying this semester. I flubbed even on that question, pathetic as it was. I named four of five subjects. The one I forgot was the subject that my HOD teaches.
How does one recover from a shock of this kind? I have never had such a disaster before. I have been assiduously avoiding my HOD since then, though I couldn't escape him in the classroom the next lecture after this, when he commented that he hadn't expected this from me. The story of forgetting his subject though, seems to be a hit amongst all my batchmates.
I had a splitting headache in the morning as soon as I woke up. Yet I couldn't cancel out on the interview, because that would be the worst thing to do in the face of the Don, the head of our Training and Placement Department. I called him and asked him if I could cancel, but he snappily asked me to get dressed, take whatever medicine I wanted and get to the interview room asap. He offered to send his car if I wanted. So with my head spinning, not having bathed, and my portfolio in pieces, I landed up for the interview.
I was not prepared for a core based interview. I hadn't sat for one before, and I had no clue of the sort of questions they liked to ask. As a result I made a fool of myself there. I couldn't answer simple basic questions that I'm supposed to know as an electrical engineer, and now I wonder whether I should be given the degree of an engineer at all. The panelists actually commented, that I was giving answers that were too generic, and I seemed more interested in electronics based subjects rather than electrical.
My Head of Department was on the panel too. That was a shock, because then it felt like a viva session, and I am bad at viva sessions. To top it all I was staring at him for the first few minutes, and I was wondering whether it was really him, or just a guy that looked like him. It was only after he spoke that I was sure, because I recognized the voice. It was embarrassing, because I gave all those horrible, generic answers and made a fool of myself right in front of my HOD. The icing on the cake came when one panelist asked me to name the subjects we were studying this semester. I flubbed even on that question, pathetic as it was. I named four of five subjects. The one I forgot was the subject that my HOD teaches.
How does one recover from a shock of this kind? I have never had such a disaster before. I have been assiduously avoiding my HOD since then, though I couldn't escape him in the classroom the next lecture after this, when he commented that he hadn't expected this from me. The story of forgetting his subject though, seems to be a hit amongst all my batchmates.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Five Smells on a Train
Train journeys in India (especially those involving a ride for over five hours, standing in a crowded, dirty stinky compartment with no place to sit, grateful for a place to stand and highly obliged for having been able to climb into the coach in the first place) are an experience that should be had at least once in a lifetime.
I travel around twice a month or so, between college and home, by train, and I have a plethora of experiences to relate. The most striking one was the latest one that I had, which was in fact, yesterday. Travelling in the rainy season can be hectic, but in the monsoon season, it is madness.
The first job is getting into the train. It ain't as simple as step inside, haul luggage, move inside. It means yell, rush forward like mad, yell, push through and clamber into the coach, yell, pull luggage inside after you (sometimes along with a friend who is unfortunately stuck somewhere behind you), yell, move inside, yell, find a place to stand (which is more likely to happen than finding a place to sit) and yell again until the train starts. In this process, you are pressed against a dozen other bodies, all of you sweating and struggling to find a foothold, hitting and being hit by luggage flying all over the place, and if you're a woman, may you be blessed. That's the first smell that will strike you as a woman, if you're entering the general compartment (the general general compartment, not the ladies special coach). The overpowering smell of masculine sweat.
The next job is finding the most comfortable position to stand in, for whatever period of time you need to stand, be it one hour or five. The best place to be is at the door of the compartment, since you can enjoy some fresh breeze, and actually sit on the footboard, if you feel like it. People often do that, sometimes for journeys as long as sixteen hours. But bless you again if you're stuck anywhere on the inside corridor between the two facing doors. Over there, the stench of the lavatory is inescapable, especially since it is overused and never flushed. The stink is often so powerful that it hits the senses almost immediately upon entering the train.
Another smell, which I have never understood, is that of fish. For some mystical reason, the general compartments always carry an overwhelming smell of fish with them. I suppose it is due to the proximity to the goods carriages, which are close by, but nevertheless, the degree of penetration of the smell is marvellous.
The fourth smell is one that is probably not noticeable to the masses of labourers and rural working force who mostly tend to use the train and it's general compartment, but if you're like me, a student who has mostly lived a smell-free life, you're likely to notice it. It's the thick and extremely heavy hair oil that is used by the rural women, for its cheapness and its ability to keep the hair straight and manageable without too much effort. It's called jameli ka tel in local dialect. There's nothing like the smell of it. All I could think of before I was able to place it was what the hell is anyone doing with rotting flowers in here. Does Rafflesia smell like this?
The fifth smell is occasional, depending on your luck. It's that of alcohol. Alcohol consumption is banned by law in this state, but in a few territories it's allowed, and of course bootlegging is one of the biggest black industries in the state. The poorer folk in particular tend to consume the locally made liquor, which is very strong, often freely adulterated with spirits that don't exclude methanol and the like, and which stinks to low hell, the odour bearing uncanny similarity with fresh puke. You need to watch out with this drink. It can work like nothing else in corroding your inner tissues, bringing on early blindness, poisoning and death. How anyone survives it is beyond me. It's called crimpy in college argot. Also called, tharra, pauaa, or just simple desi daru.
If after all this you still find any pleasure in travelling in the train, congratulations. You've just attained a higher level of tolerance for worldly evils.
I travel around twice a month or so, between college and home, by train, and I have a plethora of experiences to relate. The most striking one was the latest one that I had, which was in fact, yesterday. Travelling in the rainy season can be hectic, but in the monsoon season, it is madness.
The first job is getting into the train. It ain't as simple as step inside, haul luggage, move inside. It means yell, rush forward like mad, yell, push through and clamber into the coach, yell, pull luggage inside after you (sometimes along with a friend who is unfortunately stuck somewhere behind you), yell, move inside, yell, find a place to stand (which is more likely to happen than finding a place to sit) and yell again until the train starts. In this process, you are pressed against a dozen other bodies, all of you sweating and struggling to find a foothold, hitting and being hit by luggage flying all over the place, and if you're a woman, may you be blessed. That's the first smell that will strike you as a woman, if you're entering the general compartment (the general general compartment, not the ladies special coach). The overpowering smell of masculine sweat.
The next job is finding the most comfortable position to stand in, for whatever period of time you need to stand, be it one hour or five. The best place to be is at the door of the compartment, since you can enjoy some fresh breeze, and actually sit on the footboard, if you feel like it. People often do that, sometimes for journeys as long as sixteen hours. But bless you again if you're stuck anywhere on the inside corridor between the two facing doors. Over there, the stench of the lavatory is inescapable, especially since it is overused and never flushed. The stink is often so powerful that it hits the senses almost immediately upon entering the train.
Another smell, which I have never understood, is that of fish. For some mystical reason, the general compartments always carry an overwhelming smell of fish with them. I suppose it is due to the proximity to the goods carriages, which are close by, but nevertheless, the degree of penetration of the smell is marvellous.
The fourth smell is one that is probably not noticeable to the masses of labourers and rural working force who mostly tend to use the train and it's general compartment, but if you're like me, a student who has mostly lived a smell-free life, you're likely to notice it. It's the thick and extremely heavy hair oil that is used by the rural women, for its cheapness and its ability to keep the hair straight and manageable without too much effort. It's called jameli ka tel in local dialect. There's nothing like the smell of it. All I could think of before I was able to place it was what the hell is anyone doing with rotting flowers in here. Does Rafflesia smell like this?
The fifth smell is occasional, depending on your luck. It's that of alcohol. Alcohol consumption is banned by law in this state, but in a few territories it's allowed, and of course bootlegging is one of the biggest black industries in the state. The poorer folk in particular tend to consume the locally made liquor, which is very strong, often freely adulterated with spirits that don't exclude methanol and the like, and which stinks to low hell, the odour bearing uncanny similarity with fresh puke. You need to watch out with this drink. It can work like nothing else in corroding your inner tissues, bringing on early blindness, poisoning and death. How anyone survives it is beyond me. It's called crimpy in college argot. Also called, tharra, pauaa, or just simple desi daru.
If after all this you still find any pleasure in travelling in the train, congratulations. You've just attained a higher level of tolerance for worldly evils.
Sunday, July 06, 2008
My Political Stand
I took a test recently to determine my political views. For those who are interested, here is the link:
http://www.politicalcompass.org/test
I have never been too political minded. Current affairs I find boring, except for the main headlines, because some nation is always warring against another nation, or with its own people. The country's heads are always doing a salsa at top speed, while attempting to perform juggler's tricks at the same time, what with international treaties and policies to make, and the snivelling tricks of the opposition at home to deal with. I do not understand the subtle talk and cues that countries have with each other, or the underlying messages and currents of the acts and deeds that happen to or are made to happen by the leaders of the world. I need somebody to explain these things to me.
Economics I don't understand, except that the rich people are trying to get richer by making more profits, and the poorer people trying to get richer by squeezing out as much as they can using any power that they hold (for example, pay the sarkari naukar small bribes every time you want him to do something for you so that he won't make you do garba between all the various departments).
Social problems are a mixed bag of fruit. You have the rich mangoes, who genuinely try to help out the underprivileged; the sour grapes, who keep their position by trodding over the poor; the squashy bananas, who are trying to avoid being squashed and move towards a decent living; and the rotten apples, who want to feed off all the legal privileges they have, without lifting a finger. Somewhere in between you have the firm pears, who have no idea what caste or class mean, and simply want to earn enough to keep happy and comfortable.
But regardless of how much or how little I know, I have an opinion, because I have a brain that can judge the content that enters it. And whatever be your colour in this tapestry and your take on the picture as a whole, there are words to define what you believe, and categories to sort you into, so that you realize you aren't alone in what you believe. This test attempts to give you a broad generalization of what you believe, by asking some 60 odd questions and sorting you into one of four general categories depending on the answers you give: libertarian or authoritarian, leftist or rightist.
There is an economic axis, simply labelled Left to Right, or rather, Communism to Neo-Liberalism. At one extreme, you have the belief that everything to do with the market must be controlled by the state, while the other belief holds that extreme regulation is good. Everybody, depending on their belief of how the economic market should exist, ie to what extent should it be state-controlled and to what extent free, is somewhere along this scale. The other axis is the social axis, which from top to bottom is labelled Authoritarian to Libertarian (or if you like, Fascism to Anarchism). Everyone knows about Fascism, the absolute authority of the government on all social ideas. The extreme opposite is Anarchism, absolute non-interference of all policies relating to society on the part of the government.
And why do these two axes put together determine your political stand? Because, in the end, economy and society are the two single most important factors that influence a person's public life: his ability to live according to his needs and wants. And hence when you choose your government, or as a government official formulate your policy, you will do it according to whether your requirements in these spheres are met. For a more complete explanation/analysis, refer the site. This is simply how I understood the basis of the test.
I turned out to be Libertarian Leftist. What are you?
http://www.politicalcompass.org/test
I have never been too political minded. Current affairs I find boring, except for the main headlines, because some nation is always warring against another nation, or with its own people. The country's heads are always doing a salsa at top speed, while attempting to perform juggler's tricks at the same time, what with international treaties and policies to make, and the snivelling tricks of the opposition at home to deal with. I do not understand the subtle talk and cues that countries have with each other, or the underlying messages and currents of the acts and deeds that happen to or are made to happen by the leaders of the world. I need somebody to explain these things to me.
Economics I don't understand, except that the rich people are trying to get richer by making more profits, and the poorer people trying to get richer by squeezing out as much as they can using any power that they hold (for example, pay the sarkari naukar small bribes every time you want him to do something for you so that he won't make you do garba between all the various departments).
Social problems are a mixed bag of fruit. You have the rich mangoes, who genuinely try to help out the underprivileged; the sour grapes, who keep their position by trodding over the poor; the squashy bananas, who are trying to avoid being squashed and move towards a decent living; and the rotten apples, who want to feed off all the legal privileges they have, without lifting a finger. Somewhere in between you have the firm pears, who have no idea what caste or class mean, and simply want to earn enough to keep happy and comfortable.
But regardless of how much or how little I know, I have an opinion, because I have a brain that can judge the content that enters it. And whatever be your colour in this tapestry and your take on the picture as a whole, there are words to define what you believe, and categories to sort you into, so that you realize you aren't alone in what you believe. This test attempts to give you a broad generalization of what you believe, by asking some 60 odd questions and sorting you into one of four general categories depending on the answers you give: libertarian or authoritarian, leftist or rightist.
There is an economic axis, simply labelled Left to Right, or rather, Communism to Neo-Liberalism. At one extreme, you have the belief that everything to do with the market must be controlled by the state, while the other belief holds that extreme regulation is good. Everybody, depending on their belief of how the economic market should exist, ie to what extent should it be state-controlled and to what extent free, is somewhere along this scale. The other axis is the social axis, which from top to bottom is labelled Authoritarian to Libertarian (or if you like, Fascism to Anarchism). Everyone knows about Fascism, the absolute authority of the government on all social ideas. The extreme opposite is Anarchism, absolute non-interference of all policies relating to society on the part of the government.
And why do these two axes put together determine your political stand? Because, in the end, economy and society are the two single most important factors that influence a person's public life: his ability to live according to his needs and wants. And hence when you choose your government, or as a government official formulate your policy, you will do it according to whether your requirements in these spheres are met. For a more complete explanation/analysis, refer the site. This is simply how I understood the basis of the test.
I turned out to be Libertarian Leftist. What are you?
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
NITs With Merit
Beginning 2008-09, the rules of admission to the prestigious NITs, second only to the IITs, will change. Instead of getting admission to an NIT outside your state on the basis of your state rank, you will now get it on the basis of national rank. Which means that there is no statewise quota distribution, and students will be admitted purely on the basis of merit, ensuring that students who are higher in merit get seats, or at least better branches, than those of lower merit.
How does it work out? You see, under the previous system, 50% of the seats of an NIT were given on state rank basis to students from the same state, while the rest were distributed to the remaining states, with seats allocated to each state proportional to the population. Thus consider for example, that NIT Surat offers two seats to Assam students and four to Bengal students for a particular branch. If only one student applies from Assam, he gets that seat no matter what his rank. But if Bengal has ten students applying, only the top four get the seats, and the remaining six won't get it even if their ranks are all higher than the Assam student. If the second Assam seat is not taken, it remains unfilled, and won't even be offered to those six Bengal students.
In the new system, the 50% seats for the same NIT will remain, but the system of state quota for the remaining seats will be removed, and instead students may apply to any institute on the basis of their national rank. This means that the higher you are in merit, the wider the choice offered to you. So, the higher merit students are more likely to get a preferred branch in a preferred institute, and will not be shunted to lower preference branches simply due to state quota restrictions. Which overall means that merit is accorded more importance than it was earlier.
So what effects will this have? I had a talk with a friend and senior of mine working in Bangalore, and he highlighted a few things that hadn't occurred to me. First of all, national ranking is not evenly spread across the country's states. The higher national rankers tend to come from the north and east, because those people are generally those who appear for engineering entrance exams after dropping one or two years after school, meaning they are extremely well prepared for the exams, and tend to score higher, having the benefit of both content practice and time management practice. The entrance exam for the NITs (All India Engineering Entrance Examination, AIEEE) is taken by over one lakh students every year; the combined strength of seats offered by the NITs is a little less than one tenth that number. So if ten thousand seats are offered, and five thousand seats are given to students of the same state, and the remaining five thousand on basis of national ranking, it's natural that the bulk of the seats will go to students of the north and east (the ones who tend to score higher). Even after allowing for factors like students not going for their own NIT first, students joining the IITs or other private engineering colleges, students taking up medical school or other fields rather than engineering and the like, the proportion of students from the north will be more than students from the south.
Next, students of the south actually get a better deal upon joining local colleges, or at least colleges in Chennai or Bangalore. Placements there are said to be equally good as the NITs, or at least on a comparable level. Plus, the college is much nearer home, and not much travelling is thus required. Also, they get to live within a culture that they have grown up with, and the local language is also one that they are more likely to familiar with (given the tremendous multi-linguistic tendencies). They would rather go to these private colleges, never mind the high fees and the extra donations required to be paid. These students wouldn't bother even appearing for the AIEEE. Some still would obviously, because if they do well, AIEEE allows them entry to the NITs of Surathkal, Warangal, Trichy and Calicut, which they would certainly love to join.
So what does this spell all in all for the NITs? For the near future at least, the proportion of southie students would be greatly reduced, except in the southern NITs. The northern NITs would be populated by northie students and pseudo-southies. Diversity of the campus crowd thus goes for a toss.
Nearer home, what does this spell for our own NIT Surat? Interesting college politics. With hardly any substantial southie population, the bulk of college power falls to the hands of the northies. Particularly Gujarat, UP and Bihar, and I suppose the north east as well, seeing as these people would constitute a major chunk of the crowd. In a democracy, majority always has the power (regardless of whether it is right or wrong!), and with these people playing college politics the way they have always done so far, the scene looks set for an interesting politics session. Of course, the rule will begin to be implemented only this year, so the effect will be quite moderate, but two or three years down the line, the party should be in full swing.
How does it work out? You see, under the previous system, 50% of the seats of an NIT were given on state rank basis to students from the same state, while the rest were distributed to the remaining states, with seats allocated to each state proportional to the population. Thus consider for example, that NIT Surat offers two seats to Assam students and four to Bengal students for a particular branch. If only one student applies from Assam, he gets that seat no matter what his rank. But if Bengal has ten students applying, only the top four get the seats, and the remaining six won't get it even if their ranks are all higher than the Assam student. If the second Assam seat is not taken, it remains unfilled, and won't even be offered to those six Bengal students.
In the new system, the 50% seats for the same NIT will remain, but the system of state quota for the remaining seats will be removed, and instead students may apply to any institute on the basis of their national rank. This means that the higher you are in merit, the wider the choice offered to you. So, the higher merit students are more likely to get a preferred branch in a preferred institute, and will not be shunted to lower preference branches simply due to state quota restrictions. Which overall means that merit is accorded more importance than it was earlier.
So what effects will this have? I had a talk with a friend and senior of mine working in Bangalore, and he highlighted a few things that hadn't occurred to me. First of all, national ranking is not evenly spread across the country's states. The higher national rankers tend to come from the north and east, because those people are generally those who appear for engineering entrance exams after dropping one or two years after school, meaning they are extremely well prepared for the exams, and tend to score higher, having the benefit of both content practice and time management practice. The entrance exam for the NITs (All India Engineering Entrance Examination, AIEEE) is taken by over one lakh students every year; the combined strength of seats offered by the NITs is a little less than one tenth that number. So if ten thousand seats are offered, and five thousand seats are given to students of the same state, and the remaining five thousand on basis of national ranking, it's natural that the bulk of the seats will go to students of the north and east (the ones who tend to score higher). Even after allowing for factors like students not going for their own NIT first, students joining the IITs or other private engineering colleges, students taking up medical school or other fields rather than engineering and the like, the proportion of students from the north will be more than students from the south.
Next, students of the south actually get a better deal upon joining local colleges, or at least colleges in Chennai or Bangalore. Placements there are said to be equally good as the NITs, or at least on a comparable level. Plus, the college is much nearer home, and not much travelling is thus required. Also, they get to live within a culture that they have grown up with, and the local language is also one that they are more likely to familiar with (given the tremendous multi-linguistic tendencies). They would rather go to these private colleges, never mind the high fees and the extra donations required to be paid. These students wouldn't bother even appearing for the AIEEE. Some still would obviously, because if they do well, AIEEE allows them entry to the NITs of Surathkal, Warangal, Trichy and Calicut, which they would certainly love to join.
So what does this spell all in all for the NITs? For the near future at least, the proportion of southie students would be greatly reduced, except in the southern NITs. The northern NITs would be populated by northie students and pseudo-southies. Diversity of the campus crowd thus goes for a toss.
Nearer home, what does this spell for our own NIT Surat? Interesting college politics. With hardly any substantial southie population, the bulk of college power falls to the hands of the northies. Particularly Gujarat, UP and Bihar, and I suppose the north east as well, seeing as these people would constitute a major chunk of the crowd. In a democracy, majority always has the power (regardless of whether it is right or wrong!), and with these people playing college politics the way they have always done so far, the scene looks set for an interesting politics session. Of course, the rule will begin to be implemented only this year, so the effect will be quite moderate, but two or three years down the line, the party should be in full swing.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Canteen Chronicle
Axe any course or department from the college, and you axe off a few students. Axe the canteen, and you axe the lifeline of the entire college, the thread holding it all together and providing survival to all its denizens. It is truly one of the few (arguably the only) parts of the college, which truly unites the college, having something of use for anyone (except the food of course) no matter what their taste.
The canteen is where celebrations begin, right from birthday treats all the way upto pre-graduation revelry (in the countdown to the day they leave college) including but not limited to India’s success in the latest cricket or football match. It is where news is passed on and gossip is spread, right from exam dates upto the juicier details of the faculty members’ profiles on Orkut and Facebook. It is where college traditions begin: introduction to freshers and farewell to final year seniors. It’s where students pick up a quick fix breakfast before running off to exams, and where they return for a restoring lunch, groaning after a disastrous paper.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Employment. And how it happened to me
Employment brings satisfaction. Everyone wants to be employed. Why wouldn't they? Humans are egoistic above all else, and each wants to be able to have and maintain dignity and self-respect. In a world driven by money, being employed and earning a wage means they are able to support themselves, that their brains and their hands are able to produce something that is considered of enough value that it brings in money. Even the poorest beggar on the street would earn his keep if he could. The begging brings in pity and a corresponding lowering in self respect along with the coins. People do it if they have no other choice, but nobody would want to have to live like that, dependent on someone's pity for their survival.
Heavy funda. It's due to the recent session of on-campus recruitment carried out in my college recently. Companies come every year, analyze and interview young twenty-somethings who have just completed their third year in college and decide if they are worth placing in their company. The software companies usually come first and recruit nearly eighty percent of the total batch. I too have been recruited by one of these companies.
A couple of people put up a drop-box in the canteen, inviting people to write in their feelings and their placement experience, and what was special about it. I saw that, and then it struck me. Do I understand the implications of this? This is the first job I have been offered. This is the first time I spoke face to face with officials of a company, telling them why I think I should be employed by them to work with them, what I can do for them, what they can do for me, the first time that I tell someone that I should work for them and they should pay me for it.
The way it took place was funny too. I was suffering from viral fever two days before this company turned up for the recruitment process. Viral fever means a constant headache, loss of appetite, recurrent high fever, and a general weakness that overpowers every effort you make. I took to my bed and stayed in it for two days, swallowing medicine, bread and cheese sandwiches, and glucose drinks until I felt confident of getting up again. The medicine did help, and I was just left with a heavy head and a complete lack of appetite the day of the recruitment. Oh, I forgot. I was also left with the remnants of a rather unfortunate accident as well. A guy on a motorcycle ramming into me in a big hurry left me with bruises all over, and a rather nasty wound on my right arm. The healing took long enough, thanks to the fact that viral fever had cut my blood count by half.
But life's exciting enough. And fate likes to keep people on their toes. Which means that apart from nursing my injuries and dealing with a heavy head and general tiredness, I swallowed the last dose of medicine and gave the written test with absolutely no preparation. The amazing part is I cleared it too. This in the morning. Happy thoughts of having some time to rest before the next stage were rudely interrupted by the declaration of having that next stage immediately, which means I go to participate in group discussion in the afternoon in the same state of no food, no rest, heavy head and injury. And I clear this stage too!
Okay, so much for one day. At least now I could rest. They'd do the interview thing the next day. But no! They are such energetic people... they declared their intention of starting it in an hour. That very evening. That should give students enough time to change to formal dressing, gather their portfolio, and fill up the employment application form, in preparation for the grilling. For me, it was just enough time to swallow some fruit and an analgesic for my headache, wash my face, dress in formals, pick up my certificates and marksheets and the file they were supposed to be in, and run to the spot where they were checking and verifying students' academic records before sending them to be interviewed.
I had to hurriedly cram all my papers together and fill the form, which I botched up in my fatigue. That meant an extra procedure of ducking around the guy distributing the forms (who happened to be, that day, the senior professor in charge of all training and placement activities in my college) and get a second form out of him. He would have been really mad if he'd directly gotten to know I'd botched up the form. Then the long wait before my turn, and then actually sitting for the first serious interview of my life.
It was an HR interview and it was fun. Okay the guy wasn't smiling or anything, and I don't think he was entirely pleased with the answers I gave him, but somehow I enjoyed the process. His questions came shot after shot like gunfire, and I responded in like fashion. Then he slowed down and asked the questions that required thinking for a few seconds before answering. I bluffed answers in a couple of questions, and got away with it too. All along, I was carefully monitoring my body language and vocal expressions, as well as my eyes, so devastatingly giveaway for me.
Careful to sit the right way, so that I appeared upright and confident and yet wasn't discomfited by my elbow injury, careful to look into my interviewer's eyes but not stare, careful to moderate my voice to contain and display respect as well as self-respect, careful to express softness and yet sharpness, intelligence and yet wonder with my eyes at the appropriate moments, careful to think on my feet but not let my thoughts show in my eyes. The best part was all this came naturally to me, sitting there. I wasn't stiff when trying to control myself. The control was spontaneous, natural. I certainly wasn't stellar, but I must have done well enough, because I cleared it through to the second interview. I hadn't even attended their pre-placement presentation.
The second interview was the next morning, and it was a technical abilities interview. It didn't really go too well. My interviewer was done with me in ten minutes, and I myself was not satisfied with my answers. The one simple question he'd asked me to solve, I botched the logic of it. I didn't think I'd make it, so after another futile attempt to rejuvenate my appetite (really, loss of appetite is dangerous. You won't feel like eating, so you won't eat, and you won't get the strength so necessary for you to actually recover from what you're suffering), I returned to my hostel to sleep. Strangely enough, I cleared the second interview too, because a couple of hours later I was roused by frantic phone calls and messages, telling me I had cleared it and been selected, placed, employed, and I should get there as soon as possible. Not that it really helped me to get there; it was nothing but a set of thank-you-for-your-nice-hospitality speeches and advice for the future with the company and so on and so forth. I returned after this to sleep peacefully again.
Employed. It feels great. Of course, the actual employment, and working and pay package and all comes after a year, when I actually graduate and join the company, but it still does feel good to think that I'm employed. That someone talked to me and actually thought me good enough to work for them and be paid by them. It ain't that easy to convince someone to do that, no matter how good you may be.
Heavy funda. It's due to the recent session of on-campus recruitment carried out in my college recently. Companies come every year, analyze and interview young twenty-somethings who have just completed their third year in college and decide if they are worth placing in their company. The software companies usually come first and recruit nearly eighty percent of the total batch. I too have been recruited by one of these companies.
A couple of people put up a drop-box in the canteen, inviting people to write in their feelings and their placement experience, and what was special about it. I saw that, and then it struck me. Do I understand the implications of this? This is the first job I have been offered. This is the first time I spoke face to face with officials of a company, telling them why I think I should be employed by them to work with them, what I can do for them, what they can do for me, the first time that I tell someone that I should work for them and they should pay me for it.
The way it took place was funny too. I was suffering from viral fever two days before this company turned up for the recruitment process. Viral fever means a constant headache, loss of appetite, recurrent high fever, and a general weakness that overpowers every effort you make. I took to my bed and stayed in it for two days, swallowing medicine, bread and cheese sandwiches, and glucose drinks until I felt confident of getting up again. The medicine did help, and I was just left with a heavy head and a complete lack of appetite the day of the recruitment. Oh, I forgot. I was also left with the remnants of a rather unfortunate accident as well. A guy on a motorcycle ramming into me in a big hurry left me with bruises all over, and a rather nasty wound on my right arm. The healing took long enough, thanks to the fact that viral fever had cut my blood count by half.
But life's exciting enough. And fate likes to keep people on their toes. Which means that apart from nursing my injuries and dealing with a heavy head and general tiredness, I swallowed the last dose of medicine and gave the written test with absolutely no preparation. The amazing part is I cleared it too. This in the morning. Happy thoughts of having some time to rest before the next stage were rudely interrupted by the declaration of having that next stage immediately, which means I go to participate in group discussion in the afternoon in the same state of no food, no rest, heavy head and injury. And I clear this stage too!
Okay, so much for one day. At least now I could rest. They'd do the interview thing the next day. But no! They are such energetic people... they declared their intention of starting it in an hour. That very evening. That should give students enough time to change to formal dressing, gather their portfolio, and fill up the employment application form, in preparation for the grilling. For me, it was just enough time to swallow some fruit and an analgesic for my headache, wash my face, dress in formals, pick up my certificates and marksheets and the file they were supposed to be in, and run to the spot where they were checking and verifying students' academic records before sending them to be interviewed.
I had to hurriedly cram all my papers together and fill the form, which I botched up in my fatigue. That meant an extra procedure of ducking around the guy distributing the forms (who happened to be, that day, the senior professor in charge of all training and placement activities in my college) and get a second form out of him. He would have been really mad if he'd directly gotten to know I'd botched up the form. Then the long wait before my turn, and then actually sitting for the first serious interview of my life.
It was an HR interview and it was fun. Okay the guy wasn't smiling or anything, and I don't think he was entirely pleased with the answers I gave him, but somehow I enjoyed the process. His questions came shot after shot like gunfire, and I responded in like fashion. Then he slowed down and asked the questions that required thinking for a few seconds before answering. I bluffed answers in a couple of questions, and got away with it too. All along, I was carefully monitoring my body language and vocal expressions, as well as my eyes, so devastatingly giveaway for me.
Careful to sit the right way, so that I appeared upright and confident and yet wasn't discomfited by my elbow injury, careful to look into my interviewer's eyes but not stare, careful to moderate my voice to contain and display respect as well as self-respect, careful to express softness and yet sharpness, intelligence and yet wonder with my eyes at the appropriate moments, careful to think on my feet but not let my thoughts show in my eyes. The best part was all this came naturally to me, sitting there. I wasn't stiff when trying to control myself. The control was spontaneous, natural. I certainly wasn't stellar, but I must have done well enough, because I cleared it through to the second interview. I hadn't even attended their pre-placement presentation.
The second interview was the next morning, and it was a technical abilities interview. It didn't really go too well. My interviewer was done with me in ten minutes, and I myself was not satisfied with my answers. The one simple question he'd asked me to solve, I botched the logic of it. I didn't think I'd make it, so after another futile attempt to rejuvenate my appetite (really, loss of appetite is dangerous. You won't feel like eating, so you won't eat, and you won't get the strength so necessary for you to actually recover from what you're suffering), I returned to my hostel to sleep. Strangely enough, I cleared the second interview too, because a couple of hours later I was roused by frantic phone calls and messages, telling me I had cleared it and been selected, placed, employed, and I should get there as soon as possible. Not that it really helped me to get there; it was nothing but a set of thank-you-for-your-nice-hospitality speeches and advice for the future with the company and so on and so forth. I returned after this to sleep peacefully again.
Employed. It feels great. Of course, the actual employment, and working and pay package and all comes after a year, when I actually graduate and join the company, but it still does feel good to think that I'm employed. That someone talked to me and actually thought me good enough to work for them and be paid by them. It ain't that easy to convince someone to do that, no matter how good you may be.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
An Equal Society
Someone recently gave an article for the college newsletter. It was a very basic article about how girls are not treated on par with guys on campus, and how irritating it is to be made to conform to restrictive policies with little or no sensible justification.
This got me thinking. Women have equal rights under the law and everything. But does anyone in this country really understand the concept of equality? As in equality between men and women? They think they do, and they feel we are really progressing in issues like women's liberation and so forth. The sad truth is that even in a college housing two thousand people on a campus of two and a half hundred acres, I have found hardly two people truly understand it, and practise it as well.
This can be analyzed by taking several little individual examples. Think about clothing and dressing. Men can roam about naked and women scream in embarrassment. Any sign of extra skin on a woman, forget being naked, and the men stare around, lewdly happy. In both cases, it's the woman whose 'chastity' 'stands at risk'.
Certain things are stereotyped as typically masculine or feminine. Very prominent in this list are clothes. Men's clothing with appropriate styling (I mean jeans and t-shirts) is now a part of the woman's wardrobe, but feminine styles of clothing are still common, and for some reason those are considered more 'appealing' than the masculine derived styles. No objection there, but that doesn't mean that a woman should be judged on the basis of her wardrobe. Worse than the judging is the discrimination a woman faces for being anything that's not typically feminine, be it clothes or anything else. I remember this movie that was extremely popular ten years back. I had liked it too at that time, but later I realized how it portrays what I'm talking about. The main female protagonist is a tomboy and like all humans, falls in love, but her love goes unrequited as long as she remains a tomboy. To put it in the words of a leading critic, her love is returned only when she resurfaces, "sarified and narified".
The ideology associated with this is also stereotyped, biased towards men. A statement I made today to a group of people and the response I received illustrates this perfectly. The topic under discussion was a recent beach trip we had taken, and one guy was describing somewhat merrily how I had stared at him and his abs when he had taken off his shirt to wash up. I retaliated saying that if it was okay for men to stare at women and their figures, there's no harm done if a woman looks at a man. Men will stare at women no matter what they wear or don't wear, so what's wrong if it happens vice versa? Everyone protested loudly at this, girls and guys both, and I only succeeded in furthering my reputation as being somewhat more forward in behaviour compared to the other girls who live on campus.
Next, take issues like boozing, fagging or doping. Some people associate a sort of morality (rather a lack of it) with these activities, and call them vice. I'm no stranger to the thought, since I myself once used to subscribe to it. And no issue with it; everyone is entitled to their own view. It's pretty normal for women to indulge in them the world over. Focus only on the two thousand people who live on my campus, since that's the model of the country I'm out to live in. Any woman in this college, who drinks alcohol and openly admits to it, is considered forward by any standards, in the eyes of the college public. Find out that she smokes or dopes, and she rises even 'higher' in estimation. For some strange reason, people consider it more of a vice when a woman indulges in any of these activities, than when a man does so. It's even more shocking to hear people say that it's okay or unavoidable in case of men, but that it's wrong for women.
Living in college broadens your horizons to infinite limits. You are exposed to a wider world, different ideas, different possibilities. You question this world and its rules and add your own opinion to it. And your morals and principles undergo the most drastic restructuring possible, because of such wide exposure. You get to meet so many different people, across the entire spectrum of mindset and mentality. Their company, their ideas add their influence. This being the case, it really shocks me to still know of people making statements like "Girls shouldn't compete with boys". And that came straight from one of the guys of my own college: a person who has studied in the same class as me right from my freshman year.
Consider security. Amongst crimes that are specifically targeted at women, rape is one of the nastiest and most serious. Sexual harassment is the more generic term for it, including with it everything from lewd comments and stares, upto rape. What is people's solution to this problem, apart from laws? "Don't wear provoking clothes."
Again, it's the woman who has to bear the brunt of it. Why did she get raped? Because she was wearing 'provoking' clothes and men are such beasts that they can't (and won't bother to) refrain from helping themselves to what seems a most delicious treat. So, rather than teach men that it's wrong for them to treat women like objects of pleasure, they want to teach women to be more submissive.
What does security mean? According to the chauvinists, a woman is well protected if she stays inside the house after dark, which is when she is most threatened. So to keep her safe, cage her up after dark! This is enforced by both spoken and unspoken rules everywhere. Why did she get raped? "Because she went out of the house after dark. She was asking for trouble. She deserved it."
A group of friends had a party recently. The majority were men, but there were a fair number of women as well. The party was on till late night but the women were required by rules to return strictly by a certain time. They did. The men were also required to do the same, but they didn't bother and returned well after curfew. Of course they received a yelling.
Note a few facts about this. First, the guys only got a yelling from their supervisor. Had it been the girls who were late, they'd have got a yelling, a fine imposed as punishment, and a good deal of character sludging. Next, the guys were found complaining the next day. "If it's ten-thirty for the girls, it can certainly be much later for the guys." Why should it? Why at all? I took issue with the guy who spoke the sentence, and who also happens to be a close acquaintance of mine. His defence was that girls should not stay out late, since safety could then become a problem.
That's my point exactly. Safety should not have to be a problem in the first place. It's a knotty issue, on the borderline of the realms of freedom and equality. For goodness' sake, the world is supposed to move towards equality. Not just equality of laws. I mean equality ingrained as a quality of behaviour. I mean absence of discrimination, and absence of this attitude of chauvinistic high-handedness. In all essential social terms, equality needs to become a mindset, a part of one's natural thinking. A woman should be free to walk the roads alone at night. Not just free under the law. But free from fear of being raped, from fear of being ostracized, from the persecution caused by social backbiting, from chauvinistic nastiness that's totally uncalled for. Free, and equal.
And apart from having this equality, a girl should assert her right to this equality. She needs to be strong enough to know and recognize injustice and fight it. Unfortunately, centuries of downtrodden existence have brought in a mentality of dogged submissiveness in women. Those few who fight, find themselves speaking in a land of deaf people. Like I do.
It's not an easy task. It's one thing to impose a set of rules that must be obeyed, but how do you change the mindset of an entire generation of people, let alone three generations coexisting together, who have all grown up thinking in the way of their forefathers? How do you get people to see and accept the rationality of those laws and rules? One person alone can't do anything against an army of people who together form society. But individual people waging on the war can set a precedent, which more people from coming generations can take up and follow. That is how slow and silent revolutions in social norms have come about. And that is my hope, that I too may learn, and thus teach, and play my part in this revolution.
This got me thinking. Women have equal rights under the law and everything. But does anyone in this country really understand the concept of equality? As in equality between men and women? They think they do, and they feel we are really progressing in issues like women's liberation and so forth. The sad truth is that even in a college housing two thousand people on a campus of two and a half hundred acres, I have found hardly two people truly understand it, and practise it as well.
This can be analyzed by taking several little individual examples. Think about clothing and dressing. Men can roam about naked and women scream in embarrassment. Any sign of extra skin on a woman, forget being naked, and the men stare around, lewdly happy. In both cases, it's the woman whose 'chastity' 'stands at risk'.
Certain things are stereotyped as typically masculine or feminine. Very prominent in this list are clothes. Men's clothing with appropriate styling (I mean jeans and t-shirts) is now a part of the woman's wardrobe, but feminine styles of clothing are still common, and for some reason those are considered more 'appealing' than the masculine derived styles. No objection there, but that doesn't mean that a woman should be judged on the basis of her wardrobe. Worse than the judging is the discrimination a woman faces for being anything that's not typically feminine, be it clothes or anything else. I remember this movie that was extremely popular ten years back. I had liked it too at that time, but later I realized how it portrays what I'm talking about. The main female protagonist is a tomboy and like all humans, falls in love, but her love goes unrequited as long as she remains a tomboy. To put it in the words of a leading critic, her love is returned only when she resurfaces, "sarified and narified".
The ideology associated with this is also stereotyped, biased towards men. A statement I made today to a group of people and the response I received illustrates this perfectly. The topic under discussion was a recent beach trip we had taken, and one guy was describing somewhat merrily how I had stared at him and his abs when he had taken off his shirt to wash up. I retaliated saying that if it was okay for men to stare at women and their figures, there's no harm done if a woman looks at a man. Men will stare at women no matter what they wear or don't wear, so what's wrong if it happens vice versa? Everyone protested loudly at this, girls and guys both, and I only succeeded in furthering my reputation as being somewhat more forward in behaviour compared to the other girls who live on campus.
Next, take issues like boozing, fagging or doping. Some people associate a sort of morality (rather a lack of it) with these activities, and call them vice. I'm no stranger to the thought, since I myself once used to subscribe to it. And no issue with it; everyone is entitled to their own view. It's pretty normal for women to indulge in them the world over. Focus only on the two thousand people who live on my campus, since that's the model of the country I'm out to live in. Any woman in this college, who drinks alcohol and openly admits to it, is considered forward by any standards, in the eyes of the college public. Find out that she smokes or dopes, and she rises even 'higher' in estimation. For some strange reason, people consider it more of a vice when a woman indulges in any of these activities, than when a man does so. It's even more shocking to hear people say that it's okay or unavoidable in case of men, but that it's wrong for women.
Living in college broadens your horizons to infinite limits. You are exposed to a wider world, different ideas, different possibilities. You question this world and its rules and add your own opinion to it. And your morals and principles undergo the most drastic restructuring possible, because of such wide exposure. You get to meet so many different people, across the entire spectrum of mindset and mentality. Their company, their ideas add their influence. This being the case, it really shocks me to still know of people making statements like "Girls shouldn't compete with boys". And that came straight from one of the guys of my own college: a person who has studied in the same class as me right from my freshman year.
Consider security. Amongst crimes that are specifically targeted at women, rape is one of the nastiest and most serious. Sexual harassment is the more generic term for it, including with it everything from lewd comments and stares, upto rape. What is people's solution to this problem, apart from laws? "Don't wear provoking clothes."
Again, it's the woman who has to bear the brunt of it. Why did she get raped? Because she was wearing 'provoking' clothes and men are such beasts that they can't (and won't bother to) refrain from helping themselves to what seems a most delicious treat. So, rather than teach men that it's wrong for them to treat women like objects of pleasure, they want to teach women to be more submissive.
What does security mean? According to the chauvinists, a woman is well protected if she stays inside the house after dark, which is when she is most threatened. So to keep her safe, cage her up after dark! This is enforced by both spoken and unspoken rules everywhere. Why did she get raped? "Because she went out of the house after dark. She was asking for trouble. She deserved it."
A group of friends had a party recently. The majority were men, but there were a fair number of women as well. The party was on till late night but the women were required by rules to return strictly by a certain time. They did. The men were also required to do the same, but they didn't bother and returned well after curfew. Of course they received a yelling.
Note a few facts about this. First, the guys only got a yelling from their supervisor. Had it been the girls who were late, they'd have got a yelling, a fine imposed as punishment, and a good deal of character sludging. Next, the guys were found complaining the next day. "If it's ten-thirty for the girls, it can certainly be much later for the guys." Why should it? Why at all? I took issue with the guy who spoke the sentence, and who also happens to be a close acquaintance of mine. His defence was that girls should not stay out late, since safety could then become a problem.
That's my point exactly. Safety should not have to be a problem in the first place. It's a knotty issue, on the borderline of the realms of freedom and equality. For goodness' sake, the world is supposed to move towards equality. Not just equality of laws. I mean equality ingrained as a quality of behaviour. I mean absence of discrimination, and absence of this attitude of chauvinistic high-handedness. In all essential social terms, equality needs to become a mindset, a part of one's natural thinking. A woman should be free to walk the roads alone at night. Not just free under the law. But free from fear of being raped, from fear of being ostracized, from the persecution caused by social backbiting, from chauvinistic nastiness that's totally uncalled for. Free, and equal.
And apart from having this equality, a girl should assert her right to this equality. She needs to be strong enough to know and recognize injustice and fight it. Unfortunately, centuries of downtrodden existence have brought in a mentality of dogged submissiveness in women. Those few who fight, find themselves speaking in a land of deaf people. Like I do.
It's not an easy task. It's one thing to impose a set of rules that must be obeyed, but how do you change the mindset of an entire generation of people, let alone three generations coexisting together, who have all grown up thinking in the way of their forefathers? How do you get people to see and accept the rationality of those laws and rules? One person alone can't do anything against an army of people who together form society. But individual people waging on the war can set a precedent, which more people from coming generations can take up and follow. That is how slow and silent revolutions in social norms have come about. And that is my hope, that I too may learn, and thus teach, and play my part in this revolution.
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