Monday, December 18, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Mr Yogi
Mr Yogi.
Ok. Here is one blurred recall of this hit serial which, perhaps, has some good semblances with our present status.
Y. I. P(ah)ATE(h)L.
Yogesh Indernath Patel from America(h).
A slim, tall, fair complexioned, dressed in ‘Raymonds’-cut suit, tie and black polished shoes, flavoured American accent and a NRI from the US of A, back here in India looking for his bride. He is something like ‘Mr Beans’ in his looks and his ways.
‘Y.I. Patel’ is played by a not-so-known actor, late Mr Mohan Gokhale. I am grim; he died prematurely at the age of 44 due to heart attack. This 13 episode teleserial was up in air around year 1992.
Patel returns from the US and goes around looking for girls one after other, from town to town, and ending up with some sting-in-the-tail end in each instance. His mentor and guide in India for bride hunt is played by versatile Om Puri in his classic inscrutable style. Astromatch is the main criterion for their search along with other factors like education, personal qualities etc etc. Thus Om Puri arranges for him all the twelve zodiac sign gals for the remaining 12 episodes.
In every episode, the zodiac character and the Manglik status is briefed to Patel, lovingly renamed as Mr Yogi. Then he lashes out to the girl, in his pet American style not known to the latter. They invariably react frantically to his very introduction—
Yogi: Hi, Y I Patel.
Girl: How do I know why you are Patel.
Yogi: No, I mean my name is Y.I. Patel, Yogesh …
Twelve episodes pass by, showcasing his humorous bride hunt and its event. Girls also seemed to struggle hard to win over the NRI. But it ends up in a fiasco every time. In the end, while the mentor and the disciple sit down contemplating their new strategy, the mentor’s daughter appears in the scene to end Yogi’s search. Role played my Mrs Savita Gokhale, Yogi’s real life wife, probably presents victory of love over all other criteria. The Mentor is initially shown getting angry at this alliance but love is the ultimate winner.
Ok. Here is one blurred recall of this hit serial which, perhaps, has some good semblances with our present status.
Y. I. P(ah)ATE(h)L.
Yogesh Indernath Patel from America(h).
A slim, tall, fair complexioned, dressed in ‘Raymonds’-cut suit, tie and black polished shoes, flavoured American accent and a NRI from the US of A, back here in India looking for his bride. He is something like ‘Mr Beans’ in his looks and his ways.
‘Y.I. Patel’ is played by a not-so-known actor, late Mr Mohan Gokhale. I am grim; he died prematurely at the age of 44 due to heart attack. This 13 episode teleserial was up in air around year 1992.
Patel returns from the US and goes around looking for girls one after other, from town to town, and ending up with some sting-in-the-tail end in each instance. His mentor and guide in India for bride hunt is played by versatile Om Puri in his classic inscrutable style. Astromatch is the main criterion for their search along with other factors like education, personal qualities etc etc. Thus Om Puri arranges for him all the twelve zodiac sign gals for the remaining 12 episodes.
In every episode, the zodiac character and the Manglik status is briefed to Patel, lovingly renamed as Mr Yogi. Then he lashes out to the girl, in his pet American style not known to the latter. They invariably react frantically to his very introduction—
Yogi: Hi, Y I Patel.
Girl: How do I know why you are Patel.
Yogi: No, I mean my name is Y.I. Patel, Yogesh …
Twelve episodes pass by, showcasing his humorous bride hunt and its event. Girls also seemed to struggle hard to win over the NRI. But it ends up in a fiasco every time. In the end, while the mentor and the disciple sit down contemplating their new strategy, the mentor’s daughter appears in the scene to end Yogi’s search. Role played my Mrs Savita Gokhale, Yogi’s real life wife, probably presents victory of love over all other criteria. The Mentor is initially shown getting angry at this alliance but love is the ultimate winner.
Why I do blogging
Blogging also holds some special significance to me as a mariner. On ships, we are suppose to be writing a ‘Mate’s Log book’ for every quaterly-day period. We grow up and reitre out doing this job each day without realizing the meaning of it—why is it required, how it came into practice, etc. Just recently, while listening to ‘Gyan Vani’ on radio, I heard a talk given by some renowned historian of India. He was discussing as to why it was difficult to unravel the history of India for a long period from ‘bla-bla’ B.C. to 10 or 12 century AD. He expounded that it was because Indian beliefs considered this world as Maya or an illusion; hence they never felt the need of recording any event or their own lives anywhere. In fact our system of learning was also ‘Oral’, requiring the Shishyas or the pupil to learn by heart every ‘shlok’ or the verse. Only around the time of Mughal’s did the people write books in praise of the ruler, which today become a source of uncovering the history.
I immediately felt that perhaps the remnants of the same principles reside in us even today. That is why we need to be trained on how to write the log and even then we continue to do practice of sweeping remarks— writing the ditto script of entry day by day, mechanically, without giving any heed to small events of any Watch hours. Log book, prima fascia, is a British System which we have adopted ditto without delving deeper into its purpose. Perhaps, British Naturalist Charles Darwin’s personal log books while sailing around on HMS Beagle became the draft work for ‘Ascent of Man’, ‘Origin of species’ and the theory of evolution.
Hey did I know that before!?
I felt a strong urge to take up the practice of Logging as early as I could even at personal level.
I immediately felt that perhaps the remnants of the same principles reside in us even today. That is why we need to be trained on how to write the log and even then we continue to do practice of sweeping remarks— writing the ditto script of entry day by day, mechanically, without giving any heed to small events of any Watch hours. Log book, prima fascia, is a British System which we have adopted ditto without delving deeper into its purpose. Perhaps, British Naturalist Charles Darwin’s personal log books while sailing around on HMS Beagle became the draft work for ‘Ascent of Man’, ‘Origin of species’ and the theory of evolution.
Hey did I know that before!?
I felt a strong urge to take up the practice of Logging as early as I could even at personal level.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Right to be wrong!
Opinions are like arse holes; every one has one!
We often take liberties with our freedom and choose to overlook our responsibilities. Free speech is one of our greatest assets. So, what do we do? Make free speech, deliver unwanted unexamined opinions and shout aloud ‘freedom!’?
In class 10th there happened this event where freedom’s abuse was so living. We had one story in Hindi Literature which dealt with the elderly family members’ attitude towards the faster changing newer generation. ‘Annde ke chilke’ was about a typical new middle class family which showed the all-pervasive fights between family cum religious ethos and newer generation’s openness to adapt to changes. Young sons and daughters-in-law of an old Hindu mother have just converted to non-vegetarian diets, ‘Egg-eaters’. But the pious and deeply religious mother’s sentiments towards egg eating could not have let them be compatible in the house. They choose the mischievous path of disposing the shell of the eggs consumed by them secretly in the pass-by sewer after collecting them in their socks.
The dutiful eldest son discovers this one day and advises them, in good humor, to dispose the shell comfortably and properly as mother was ‘understanding’ enough to ‘not to see it even after sighting it’. This story terrifically depicted the intelligence and sensibilities of an old mother to the changing times and her conscious effort to adjust to it.
During the class test, a question was asked to explain and elaborate on why the mother would ‘not see it even after sighting it’. Other class mate, Vixxx, who would keep little busy in extra curricular activities, arrived in the test quite unprepared. After all, the brain was still alive and working, to handle the odds, he thought, like all of us do. He wrote down the answer that mother would not see it even after sighting it because such garbage always makes a bad sight!! And now, what a flagrant abuse of one’s freedom— to think and to write and give an opinion!! (Even though we all do this in one way or the other)
As his answer was laughed out at for his prolonged absence from the class resulting in such a hilarious mistake, Vixxx made a quarrel about the obvious logic in the answer. He wasn’t wrong after all, he continued to maintain.
Just recently, my good friend Mani was arguing that the recent Supreme Court verdict to instate women judges for all of the rape cases is highly gender biased, or connoting that judges do get carried away. Did he know any ABC of law, I thought.
Movie ‘Shool’ also shows one MLA in Bihar state-assembly who makes a fight on letting electricity be ‘extracted’ from running stream of water as, as he uttered, it was akin to ‘taking out the soul from a body’.
Gross abuse of democracy and Freedom of speech in an environment of ill-education
We often take liberties with our freedom and choose to overlook our responsibilities. Free speech is one of our greatest assets. So, what do we do? Make free speech, deliver unwanted unexamined opinions and shout aloud ‘freedom!’?
In class 10th there happened this event where freedom’s abuse was so living. We had one story in Hindi Literature which dealt with the elderly family members’ attitude towards the faster changing newer generation. ‘Annde ke chilke’ was about a typical new middle class family which showed the all-pervasive fights between family cum religious ethos and newer generation’s openness to adapt to changes. Young sons and daughters-in-law of an old Hindu mother have just converted to non-vegetarian diets, ‘Egg-eaters’. But the pious and deeply religious mother’s sentiments towards egg eating could not have let them be compatible in the house. They choose the mischievous path of disposing the shell of the eggs consumed by them secretly in the pass-by sewer after collecting them in their socks.
The dutiful eldest son discovers this one day and advises them, in good humor, to dispose the shell comfortably and properly as mother was ‘understanding’ enough to ‘not to see it even after sighting it’. This story terrifically depicted the intelligence and sensibilities of an old mother to the changing times and her conscious effort to adjust to it.
During the class test, a question was asked to explain and elaborate on why the mother would ‘not see it even after sighting it’. Other class mate, Vixxx, who would keep little busy in extra curricular activities, arrived in the test quite unprepared. After all, the brain was still alive and working, to handle the odds, he thought, like all of us do. He wrote down the answer that mother would not see it even after sighting it because such garbage always makes a bad sight!! And now, what a flagrant abuse of one’s freedom— to think and to write and give an opinion!! (Even though we all do this in one way or the other)
As his answer was laughed out at for his prolonged absence from the class resulting in such a hilarious mistake, Vixxx made a quarrel about the obvious logic in the answer. He wasn’t wrong after all, he continued to maintain.
Just recently, my good friend Mani was arguing that the recent Supreme Court verdict to instate women judges for all of the rape cases is highly gender biased, or connoting that judges do get carried away. Did he know any ABC of law, I thought.
Movie ‘Shool’ also shows one MLA in Bihar state-assembly who makes a fight on letting electricity be ‘extracted’ from running stream of water as, as he uttered, it was akin to ‘taking out the soul from a body’.
Gross abuse of democracy and Freedom of speech in an environment of ill-education
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Why I do Blogging?
Why I do blogging?
Blogging consist of word ‘weB + LOGging’. Thus it is a kind of dairy maintained over the internet. Many people maintain it like a daily log, recording their day to day activity, while others maintain it like a journal, recording their most intimate thoughts. Based on ‘settings’, Blogs can be made either private, or personal, or available to specific people only. Blogs help in giving a more elaborate description of our behaviour and thoughts to those who can access it. Blogs also help in enhancing communication with other people. In addition, they help us to vent out what ever strong feeling we have inside ourselves on any issue that we think about. Being more technocratic in nature, Blogs have numerous advantages over the conventional notebook kind of logs and journals.
I have often felt a dire need of preserving my thoughts and opinion on certain issue right at the time they were conceived and were still-fresh; and then record them as they change overtime. Sometimes I wonder how I would feel when I return to the infancy of my ideas and gauge how they changed or refined in due course. Hence, blogging.
Blogging consist of word ‘weB + LOGging’. Thus it is a kind of dairy maintained over the internet. Many people maintain it like a daily log, recording their day to day activity, while others maintain it like a journal, recording their most intimate thoughts. Based on ‘settings’, Blogs can be made either private, or personal, or available to specific people only. Blogs help in giving a more elaborate description of our behaviour and thoughts to those who can access it. Blogs also help in enhancing communication with other people. In addition, they help us to vent out what ever strong feeling we have inside ourselves on any issue that we think about. Being more technocratic in nature, Blogs have numerous advantages over the conventional notebook kind of logs and journals.
I have often felt a dire need of preserving my thoughts and opinion on certain issue right at the time they were conceived and were still-fresh; and then record them as they change overtime. Sometimes I wonder how I would feel when I return to the infancy of my ideas and gauge how they changed or refined in due course. Hence, blogging.
Friday, September 01, 2006
the Coaching Years.
‘Heuristics – study of how people use their experiences to find answer to questions and to improve performance.’
The Coaching Years
Summers, post class 12th, year 1997. Results were still awaited, of the Board exams. The year had been kind to me so far. After a down phase of about 2 years continuously, I had started becoming little conscious of my position. Failures had marred away my report card in a spate. But for the current year when I had put in myself some amount to cover up the loss. Consciousness now called for better recourse to engg entrances. IIT paper leak had given fresh zeal to take up solid preparation! But then I knew, there never was enough time...one could just bear some zeal. The new dates were barely a month hence; preparation was zero. MNR prelims were cleared in reserved quota, but hopes for finals were nil. Roorkee –forget it! I have been doing ‘n’ number of coaching, apparently, desperately. But the bitter truth was intimately known. Now I thought to give a fresh start with all the new zing and mindset.
May’97, board results out. New plans were to leave for delhi for further education. Dad on the other hand was thinking to send me to Allahabad for CS preparations. Humm, dad and his outdated thoughts. God saved me! But the delhi plans were also foiled in the blaze. Bhanu and Amit soon left for delhi. Rahul sinha was left but far away to give a company. Moreover I had realized the role of intense friendship in life as to how it ruined future.
I think friendship, like any other virtue, also need to be ‘bracketed’ into some limits.
I have been doing HC Joshi coaching, Bhootnath coaching, and what not. I realized they hardly had any substance. But with the IIT paper leak scandal TRIVAG’s name had sky-rocketed. People around were still keeping faith in them all the more for their knowledge and skills. So now I also decided to go to them even when they had got scandalous. Later one friend, Ankur, suggested me to go to Mr Ashok Gutpa for mathematics. I was alone in my close friend circle. Then I thought to utilize this loneliness to carve out new pals…people more suited to aid in such hours of hard concentration and wonting to be aloof. I don’t know how, but Aukur came into picture. Though I must state that he is not aloof at all. He is quite warm and outgoing person. I guess it’s because he also had same set of coaching classes and that my house laid enroute his way to coaching that we two came together. Four years together in our school and incidentally in the same section, but we hardly had known each other. Now suddenly there was an emergence of a new friendship.
Ankur, aka Taaight, would pick me up every day in the morning driving down his scooter. We would alternate between his scooter and mine everyday, further from my place. Trivag classroom were over-crowded and stuffy. Humid, after-rain cloudy day would just be unbearable. Power cut would make the matter worse. Similar was the situation with Ashok Gupta classes. Daily early morning schedule would mean bathing only by evening. As is our wont, a couple of days from start we agreed to decide play truant purportedly to breathe in some fresh air. Streets of older Lucknow soon threw open it’s mysteries to us to begin amazing and unravel the town. Together we explored Buddha park, Imambara, dilapidated talkies of historical Lucknow. In our search, we both even acquired membership of the British Counsel Library to be in air-conditioned place. Going to cinema was another good attraction. ‘Tomorrow never dies’, ‘Foxy Lady’ are a few from the list I can remember. Eating-out would mostly be at the Rovers, with ‘Makke di rotti, sarson da sag’ with a Pepsi our most savoured dish. The tree canopied joint was a big hit with the collegesters. Every penny had to be miserly saved from our petrol-expenses to make this.
By November, the onset of winters, we shifted base to more glowing open-sky terrains of silted Gomti-side by Ambedkar Park. Virgin, picturesque, greenish yellow with mustard crop, the place was really a paradise of sorts. Winters, I think are the best time for scholastic works in my part of the country. Weather is neither too hot nor uncontrollably cold to distract one’s mind. Studies began to peak higher in life. In my house I would keep myself confined just to studies. Conversations had become less. Gomti-side skiving was a few mood refreshers. Other times both of would visit other friends also, tanu, suneet, rahul and all, frequently.
Lucknow in those times had become a very lawless wild city. The prevailing atmosphere of terror and crime is best revealed in one of the recent Bollywood flicks “Sehar”. I don’t know about the common people, but I can closely relate myself to its storyline. OP Shukla the real life villain of the movie was grossly ruling the city. Infact one of his hideouts was found near to my house also, as hinted in the movie also. University students fights, political clouts, nefarious Amberkar Projects etc had all become the theme of civilian’s talks. CD Kainth’s ,DIG police, suicide, the SP-BSP fight at Hazarat Ganj square, the Sahi murder case, the PWD engineer’s murder at Aravali Marg are a few sudorific incidences I remember.
Coaching as it was, was an expensive affair. A sort of gamble in which one would invest heavily but with great risk of not making it. Me and Ankur then decided to forgo it by printing out our own Coaching I-cards! A coloured photocopy was a lesser known technology, which attracted our mind instantly. A slight handiwork of Taaight and two new cards were forged. So success was our plan that Taaight even got to commercialize it by taking a few more orders! The first order incidentally came from our own classmate who would be slight ‘Anti’-pathetic to us. Good chance to dupe him out of money. I don’t know how Ankur seiged the opportunity later.
In the fullness of time, the Entrance Forms began to appear in the market. Taaight chalked out a plan for a delhi sightseeing by filling one Shipping Corporation form. He persuaded me also to join him in that. The SCI he informed me was a lucrative career in terms of money also. We already were under impression that the alternate Entrance, that of TS Chanakya, being through IIT JEE, merchant navy was a high class intellect job.
09th December, 1997. Ankur’s birthday. By evening me, ankur, vikram and rishi met up in Mini Mahal for a small celebration. Winter had started to culminate but amazingly enough it still rained that day. My 76 yr old distant grandpa told me that he had never seen a winter rain in his entire life. Probably the changing ecology of earth had first manifested its effect distinctly. The party ended at midnight—rare occasions when I was allowed to stay out of house for so long. The delhi exam-writing plan and a new year picnic plan at Indira canal were set. By 12th dec Ankur informed me about his withdrawal from the delhi trip due to family pressure. He is the only child around in his house. Merchant Navy, he told, never suited such people. Contrarily my father forced me to write on the exams as the rail booking, guest house allotting, and Rs 300-money investments were already done! He personally accompanied me to delhi on 14th dec for that now. I was more of reluctant though due to Taaight’s withdrawal. NDA exam was already written up in September month. On 31st December we went on our picnic, right to the plan. It was a wonderful trip on a foggy cold winter day by the riverside. We did boat-ride, played absorbing Cricket, and had heart full lunch. Mummy had agreed to pack one for me taking it that this was one of the lasts.
On 19th January,1998 the SCI telegram arrived announcing my passing in the writtens. The NDA results also came a few days later with same prospects. Mind by now had begun to divert from the books again. I decided to go to Mumbai for interview of SCI planned on 09th Feb. The maiden Mumbai trip with dad was extremely pleasing, eventually distracting me from books to a greater effect.
Slowly I began to distance away from the coaching for self-preparation and I myself don’t remember how it all ended up without any notice. In April I visited Dehradoon for SSB interview and by the same month’s end, 27rd April precisely, I reported to MTI for my pre-sea training. On 4th and 5th May, I did appear in the IIT JEE again from IIT-Mumbai but with weaker preparations and the ordained results.
All the labour, toiling and concentration seemed to have gone all washed-out. Music of the times, Lucky Ali’s Sifar, Purani Jeans, songs of Pardes, Yess Boss- job hi chaaho who mein paaon, title track Close-up Reason To Smile and Alka yagnik –Javed Akhtar’s Tum Yaad Aaye and many more still echo in my ears.
The Coaching Years
Summers, post class 12th, year 1997. Results were still awaited, of the Board exams. The year had been kind to me so far. After a down phase of about 2 years continuously, I had started becoming little conscious of my position. Failures had marred away my report card in a spate. But for the current year when I had put in myself some amount to cover up the loss. Consciousness now called for better recourse to engg entrances. IIT paper leak had given fresh zeal to take up solid preparation! But then I knew, there never was enough time...one could just bear some zeal. The new dates were barely a month hence; preparation was zero. MNR prelims were cleared in reserved quota, but hopes for finals were nil. Roorkee –forget it! I have been doing ‘n’ number of coaching, apparently, desperately. But the bitter truth was intimately known. Now I thought to give a fresh start with all the new zing and mindset.
May’97, board results out. New plans were to leave for delhi for further education. Dad on the other hand was thinking to send me to Allahabad for CS preparations. Humm, dad and his outdated thoughts. God saved me! But the delhi plans were also foiled in the blaze. Bhanu and Amit soon left for delhi. Rahul sinha was left but far away to give a company. Moreover I had realized the role of intense friendship in life as to how it ruined future.
I think friendship, like any other virtue, also need to be ‘bracketed’ into some limits.
I have been doing HC Joshi coaching, Bhootnath coaching, and what not. I realized they hardly had any substance. But with the IIT paper leak scandal TRIVAG’s name had sky-rocketed. People around were still keeping faith in them all the more for their knowledge and skills. So now I also decided to go to them even when they had got scandalous. Later one friend, Ankur, suggested me to go to Mr Ashok Gutpa for mathematics. I was alone in my close friend circle. Then I thought to utilize this loneliness to carve out new pals…people more suited to aid in such hours of hard concentration and wonting to be aloof. I don’t know how, but Aukur came into picture. Though I must state that he is not aloof at all. He is quite warm and outgoing person. I guess it’s because he also had same set of coaching classes and that my house laid enroute his way to coaching that we two came together. Four years together in our school and incidentally in the same section, but we hardly had known each other. Now suddenly there was an emergence of a new friendship.
Ankur, aka Taaight, would pick me up every day in the morning driving down his scooter. We would alternate between his scooter and mine everyday, further from my place. Trivag classroom were over-crowded and stuffy. Humid, after-rain cloudy day would just be unbearable. Power cut would make the matter worse. Similar was the situation with Ashok Gupta classes. Daily early morning schedule would mean bathing only by evening. As is our wont, a couple of days from start we agreed to decide play truant purportedly to breathe in some fresh air. Streets of older Lucknow soon threw open it’s mysteries to us to begin amazing and unravel the town. Together we explored Buddha park, Imambara, dilapidated talkies of historical Lucknow. In our search, we both even acquired membership of the British Counsel Library to be in air-conditioned place. Going to cinema was another good attraction. ‘Tomorrow never dies’, ‘Foxy Lady’ are a few from the list I can remember. Eating-out would mostly be at the Rovers, with ‘Makke di rotti, sarson da sag’ with a Pepsi our most savoured dish. The tree canopied joint was a big hit with the collegesters. Every penny had to be miserly saved from our petrol-expenses to make this.
By November, the onset of winters, we shifted base to more glowing open-sky terrains of silted Gomti-side by Ambedkar Park. Virgin, picturesque, greenish yellow with mustard crop, the place was really a paradise of sorts. Winters, I think are the best time for scholastic works in my part of the country. Weather is neither too hot nor uncontrollably cold to distract one’s mind. Studies began to peak higher in life. In my house I would keep myself confined just to studies. Conversations had become less. Gomti-side skiving was a few mood refreshers. Other times both of would visit other friends also, tanu, suneet, rahul and all, frequently.
Lucknow in those times had become a very lawless wild city. The prevailing atmosphere of terror and crime is best revealed in one of the recent Bollywood flicks “Sehar”. I don’t know about the common people, but I can closely relate myself to its storyline. OP Shukla the real life villain of the movie was grossly ruling the city. Infact one of his hideouts was found near to my house also, as hinted in the movie also. University students fights, political clouts, nefarious Amberkar Projects etc had all become the theme of civilian’s talks. CD Kainth’s ,DIG police, suicide, the SP-BSP fight at Hazarat Ganj square, the Sahi murder case, the PWD engineer’s murder at Aravali Marg are a few sudorific incidences I remember.
Coaching as it was, was an expensive affair. A sort of gamble in which one would invest heavily but with great risk of not making it. Me and Ankur then decided to forgo it by printing out our own Coaching I-cards! A coloured photocopy was a lesser known technology, which attracted our mind instantly. A slight handiwork of Taaight and two new cards were forged. So success was our plan that Taaight even got to commercialize it by taking a few more orders! The first order incidentally came from our own classmate who would be slight ‘Anti’-pathetic to us. Good chance to dupe him out of money. I don’t know how Ankur seiged the opportunity later.
In the fullness of time, the Entrance Forms began to appear in the market. Taaight chalked out a plan for a delhi sightseeing by filling one Shipping Corporation form. He persuaded me also to join him in that. The SCI he informed me was a lucrative career in terms of money also. We already were under impression that the alternate Entrance, that of TS Chanakya, being through IIT JEE, merchant navy was a high class intellect job.
09th December, 1997. Ankur’s birthday. By evening me, ankur, vikram and rishi met up in Mini Mahal for a small celebration. Winter had started to culminate but amazingly enough it still rained that day. My 76 yr old distant grandpa told me that he had never seen a winter rain in his entire life. Probably the changing ecology of earth had first manifested its effect distinctly. The party ended at midnight—rare occasions when I was allowed to stay out of house for so long. The delhi exam-writing plan and a new year picnic plan at Indira canal were set. By 12th dec Ankur informed me about his withdrawal from the delhi trip due to family pressure. He is the only child around in his house. Merchant Navy, he told, never suited such people. Contrarily my father forced me to write on the exams as the rail booking, guest house allotting, and Rs 300-money investments were already done! He personally accompanied me to delhi on 14th dec for that now. I was more of reluctant though due to Taaight’s withdrawal. NDA exam was already written up in September month. On 31st December we went on our picnic, right to the plan. It was a wonderful trip on a foggy cold winter day by the riverside. We did boat-ride, played absorbing Cricket, and had heart full lunch. Mummy had agreed to pack one for me taking it that this was one of the lasts.
On 19th January,1998 the SCI telegram arrived announcing my passing in the writtens. The NDA results also came a few days later with same prospects. Mind by now had begun to divert from the books again. I decided to go to Mumbai for interview of SCI planned on 09th Feb. The maiden Mumbai trip with dad was extremely pleasing, eventually distracting me from books to a greater effect.
Slowly I began to distance away from the coaching for self-preparation and I myself don’t remember how it all ended up without any notice. In April I visited Dehradoon for SSB interview and by the same month’s end, 27rd April precisely, I reported to MTI for my pre-sea training. On 4th and 5th May, I did appear in the IIT JEE again from IIT-Mumbai but with weaker preparations and the ordained results.
All the labour, toiling and concentration seemed to have gone all washed-out. Music of the times, Lucky Ali’s Sifar, Purani Jeans, songs of Pardes, Yess Boss- job hi chaaho who mein paaon, title track Close-up Reason To Smile and Alka yagnik –Javed Akhtar’s Tum Yaad Aaye and many more still echo in my ears.
Monday, June 26, 2006
Discovering ownself…
Discovering ownself…
Come a long way…from school to cadet ship to officialdom. Some times I turn around to check my traces, to gauge my progress, to get the future course. Albeit ‘Sometimes…’?! I doubt ... I do it often. Moving on anyway..
During schoolyears, life went jittery, trepidations, in a different aspect. Engg entrance was the purported theme of the mind. But heart I’m sure wasn’t there ever. I would spend hrs killing time with Bhanu, sleazing around, going and coming back to coaching and talking about ...(you know). Then suddenly happened class 12th results. June 1997---We parted ways, went on in our individual directions to hunt down our future. I stayed back, planning my course of engg by joining coaching. Good thing was I was alone. No pals, no distraction. Just me and myself. I would think and rethink, on and on. Once I went on walk to park nearby and sat down in the green meadows of it, on a cool breezy cloudy day. Air was refreshing as it could be, prompting me to consume it as much as I could. Mind raced like a jet. Deliberating. Time, again I turned back to check my courses. What brought me here. My choices, and my desire..i got my answer-- those time killing acts, debonair ways. I thought it was all for my faults but I refused to blame it on myself.
Introspection had just started. Somehow, I believe, this process is also one of the purposes of real education…to question one own self. Eventually it successfully happened with me also. The incessant unending thought process had just started. Mathematics and Physics began to sound more fascinating. Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein had become new mentors of life. The H.C. Verma book had started giving a new perception to things.
Actually there used to be question like ‘what forces were exchanged when Gerbachov shook hands with Bush’ (answer Electromagnetic forces!) and ‘ what is the time period of oscillations of a lady’s ear-ring blah cms long, sitting on a merry-go-round’ . These questions were not simply meant to check your knowledge of intricacies of natural science but also to initiate you into developing a perspective. Every equation written on black board by Mr Ashok Gupta was called upon to be read by ‘eyes of your soul’…with emotions. Everything stimulated us from within. Even real life had begun to appear like a complex system of Physics’ principles written in mathematical expressions. Every word, every action I had started to analyze with a Physics-oriented mindset. Analogical conditions were formulated for past and present experiences. Results etched on memory, reasoning re-examined over again, and future courses decided. On surface, I had retracted myself into a shell filled with my own thoughts, superegos, closed down to whole world. May be that’s why I became more disobedient and rebel. Nobody was allowed to affect my thoughts, as, none was qualified enough. And experiment within was finding some exciting results. I was able to solve the mysteries of H.C Verma and Tata Mcgraw Hill with chilling ease then ever before. That’s why I believe I had set on a right track. Lessons of Differentiation and Integration, Limits and Continuity, Permutation and Combination, Probability Reasoning had given mind a whole new thought to think… not known or heard by me ever before. Every thing, every statement was being allocated a ‘Limiting bracket’… merits and demerits noted, pro and cons judged. I think my arguments had grown so overpowering, attitude too confident (yet keeping from the lines of ‘pride’ or ‘over-confidence’ as warranted by Mr Gupta) and also quite absorbed (though people saw me as ‘lost’). And all this is why I call it ‘year of self-discovery’.
The epoch continued for quite long. Those arguments and fights with Mr Vilas sharma, my chief mate, 2 years hence and the show-cause notices were the repercussions of this strong phase, while it was at its peak. Many psychedelic events happened like that alone seeing of ‘hum dil de chuke sanam’, for the intense anger for chief mate, those alone visits to central market of Liverpool, those indefatigable arguments with Capt Banker, etc.
There also happened a time when I felt like taking nervous breakdown. It was while working on ship Maharshi Karve, Nov’98 to May’99. The Bihari, sparsely educated fellow cadets were too unintelligent to be in unison with my thoughts. However, they were sensible of this. I had to over think myself many times to be in their level for a companionship. On the other hand, I was over thinking their sub-class jokes, cynical behavior, retarded communication skills, un-evolved lifestyles. I was totally alone between these near-tribals. What happened as a result can be anybody’s guess. In the end, I maintain lots of compassion for them.
For then, I was in two minds as to whether to continue in shipping or leave. Perseverance, I thought, was the name of life’s game. I hanged on. Heaven’s grace, next ship ‘State of Andhra Pradesh’, June’99 to Apr’00, gave that glimpse of life that young cadets dream prior going to sea. I had my time, though, ironically, again with some Biharis-- civilized ones.
The process of introspection was still on. Some times I would miss all my coaching years and those good books that gave me this insight. Honestly, I was still carrying with myself the H.C. Verma book on ship, hoping that someday I would re-do the book. I think this bibliophile act is common to IIT aspirants, as I noted Rajat, Sunil and many fellow cadets also did this secretly. Further on, I had now started to find a new outlook for modern day living. Codes of social existence were formulated. Democracy, Freedom, Laws, Society, Humans—all re-framed from the origin. Rather these were ‘derived’ again to fit myself and people like myself in this world. I had grown so quiet that crew would enquire about my ‘disturbed’ domestic life; trouble with papa notwithstanding. ‘Vijeta’ and ‘Shakti’ were few of my favourite movies.
By Apr’00 I was regained my extrovert self. From then to Nov’01 was the second ‘breakthrough’ of self-discovery. The profession, it’s purposes and meaning, its shortcoming, and my own vocation, all these were decisively drawn. I singularly maintained the observation that mariners were paid not for knowledge or skills, but for the Economy factors. Moreover knowledge and skills prevalent were too inferior compared to advances of the modern world. Although there are state-of –the-art gadgetry on board ships, but predisposition towards them and consequent managerial skills makes us inferior. Computers are still not employed to full potential and semi-conductor electronics seen with ‘unreliable’ psyche. The problem is all the more aggravated by budget constraints, poor and slow decision-making, and lack of dynamic modern insight/outlook. The top heads may be the cream, IITians and IIMs, but the crew remains to be under-educated part time fishermen. Many times masters and officers are also from the pre 90’s anarchical bureaucratic India.
The process of self-discovery, for now, seems to have taken a calmer route. No more do I keep unusual quiet, become implosive, or remain un-sharing of my views. But the thinking continues and the show-causes still happen, like before.
Come a long way…from school to cadet ship to officialdom. Some times I turn around to check my traces, to gauge my progress, to get the future course. Albeit ‘Sometimes…’?! I doubt ... I do it often. Moving on anyway..
During schoolyears, life went jittery, trepidations, in a different aspect. Engg entrance was the purported theme of the mind. But heart I’m sure wasn’t there ever. I would spend hrs killing time with Bhanu, sleazing around, going and coming back to coaching and talking about ...(you know). Then suddenly happened class 12th results. June 1997---We parted ways, went on in our individual directions to hunt down our future. I stayed back, planning my course of engg by joining coaching. Good thing was I was alone. No pals, no distraction. Just me and myself. I would think and rethink, on and on. Once I went on walk to park nearby and sat down in the green meadows of it, on a cool breezy cloudy day. Air was refreshing as it could be, prompting me to consume it as much as I could. Mind raced like a jet. Deliberating. Time, again I turned back to check my courses. What brought me here. My choices, and my desire..i got my answer-- those time killing acts, debonair ways. I thought it was all for my faults but I refused to blame it on myself.
Introspection had just started. Somehow, I believe, this process is also one of the purposes of real education…to question one own self. Eventually it successfully happened with me also. The incessant unending thought process had just started. Mathematics and Physics began to sound more fascinating. Isaac Newton and Albert Einstein had become new mentors of life. The H.C. Verma book had started giving a new perception to things.
Actually there used to be question like ‘what forces were exchanged when Gerbachov shook hands with Bush’ (answer Electromagnetic forces!) and ‘ what is the time period of oscillations of a lady’s ear-ring blah cms long, sitting on a merry-go-round’ . These questions were not simply meant to check your knowledge of intricacies of natural science but also to initiate you into developing a perspective. Every equation written on black board by Mr Ashok Gupta was called upon to be read by ‘eyes of your soul’…with emotions. Everything stimulated us from within. Even real life had begun to appear like a complex system of Physics’ principles written in mathematical expressions. Every word, every action I had started to analyze with a Physics-oriented mindset. Analogical conditions were formulated for past and present experiences. Results etched on memory, reasoning re-examined over again, and future courses decided. On surface, I had retracted myself into a shell filled with my own thoughts, superegos, closed down to whole world. May be that’s why I became more disobedient and rebel. Nobody was allowed to affect my thoughts, as, none was qualified enough. And experiment within was finding some exciting results. I was able to solve the mysteries of H.C Verma and Tata Mcgraw Hill with chilling ease then ever before. That’s why I believe I had set on a right track. Lessons of Differentiation and Integration, Limits and Continuity, Permutation and Combination, Probability Reasoning had given mind a whole new thought to think… not known or heard by me ever before. Every thing, every statement was being allocated a ‘Limiting bracket’… merits and demerits noted, pro and cons judged. I think my arguments had grown so overpowering, attitude too confident (yet keeping from the lines of ‘pride’ or ‘over-confidence’ as warranted by Mr Gupta) and also quite absorbed (though people saw me as ‘lost’). And all this is why I call it ‘year of self-discovery’.
The epoch continued for quite long. Those arguments and fights with Mr Vilas sharma, my chief mate, 2 years hence and the show-cause notices were the repercussions of this strong phase, while it was at its peak. Many psychedelic events happened like that alone seeing of ‘hum dil de chuke sanam’, for the intense anger for chief mate, those alone visits to central market of Liverpool, those indefatigable arguments with Capt Banker, etc.
There also happened a time when I felt like taking nervous breakdown. It was while working on ship Maharshi Karve, Nov’98 to May’99. The Bihari, sparsely educated fellow cadets were too unintelligent to be in unison with my thoughts. However, they were sensible of this. I had to over think myself many times to be in their level for a companionship. On the other hand, I was over thinking their sub-class jokes, cynical behavior, retarded communication skills, un-evolved lifestyles. I was totally alone between these near-tribals. What happened as a result can be anybody’s guess. In the end, I maintain lots of compassion for them.
For then, I was in two minds as to whether to continue in shipping or leave. Perseverance, I thought, was the name of life’s game. I hanged on. Heaven’s grace, next ship ‘State of Andhra Pradesh’, June’99 to Apr’00, gave that glimpse of life that young cadets dream prior going to sea. I had my time, though, ironically, again with some Biharis-- civilized ones.
The process of introspection was still on. Some times I would miss all my coaching years and those good books that gave me this insight. Honestly, I was still carrying with myself the H.C. Verma book on ship, hoping that someday I would re-do the book. I think this bibliophile act is common to IIT aspirants, as I noted Rajat, Sunil and many fellow cadets also did this secretly. Further on, I had now started to find a new outlook for modern day living. Codes of social existence were formulated. Democracy, Freedom, Laws, Society, Humans—all re-framed from the origin. Rather these were ‘derived’ again to fit myself and people like myself in this world. I had grown so quiet that crew would enquire about my ‘disturbed’ domestic life; trouble with papa notwithstanding. ‘Vijeta’ and ‘Shakti’ were few of my favourite movies.
By Apr’00 I was regained my extrovert self. From then to Nov’01 was the second ‘breakthrough’ of self-discovery. The profession, it’s purposes and meaning, its shortcoming, and my own vocation, all these were decisively drawn. I singularly maintained the observation that mariners were paid not for knowledge or skills, but for the Economy factors. Moreover knowledge and skills prevalent were too inferior compared to advances of the modern world. Although there are state-of –the-art gadgetry on board ships, but predisposition towards them and consequent managerial skills makes us inferior. Computers are still not employed to full potential and semi-conductor electronics seen with ‘unreliable’ psyche. The problem is all the more aggravated by budget constraints, poor and slow decision-making, and lack of dynamic modern insight/outlook. The top heads may be the cream, IITians and IIMs, but the crew remains to be under-educated part time fishermen. Many times masters and officers are also from the pre 90’s anarchical bureaucratic India.
The process of self-discovery, for now, seems to have taken a calmer route. No more do I keep unusual quiet, become implosive, or remain un-sharing of my views. But the thinking continues and the show-causes still happen, like before.
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