Salute to the smart ones

Some cliches never die, one of them is the *Science is for the smart ones and Commerce is for the dumb ones* theory. Lately I've been hearing a lot of jokes being cracked on the commerce students and this thought suddenly struck me.

Firstly, content wise both of them are equally tough, tedious, senseless and super boring. Yet, science becomes more taxing when students decide to screw their lives by joining coaching classes. Coaching classes that mercilessly poison people's minds against each other; simulate friends into deadly competitors who ought to be defeated… Barring that, I very strongly feel that those who take commerce are the ones with real guts. Especially in an engineer loving and favouring country like ours where every uncle and every aunty has a special corner for engineers, students who take commerce are the ones who are brave. Brave enough to not do what everyone does, because it is apparently the most *safe option*. 

This post is meant and targeted at those who take up a particular stream not out of interest but out of stupidity. Indeed, it's the student's prerogative to take up what he desires… But yet, every one, literally everyone; values a bespectacled geeky engineer more than anyone else. 

As a person who is swirling and stuck in this tornado of science, I cannot supress my deepest admiration for the smart bunch of commerce students who sit in the class next to mine. Trust me, most of them are way more braver and smarter than any science student, because they dare to challenge the stereotype that has infected our citizen's minds and also because they haven't commited the gravest mistake of taking science. 

Salute to all the commerce and humanities students.

Sincerely,

A not so smart one.

The Gift - Short Story

For all those who've been asking; here's the story that got selected for the Regional Workshop of 'The creative writing search for excellence' conducted by Katha.

It was a hot summer afternoon, the place was buzzing with screams and laughter from a mob of vacation charged kids and frenzied parents who ran after them. The giant wheel slowly creeped into the blue sky and the roller coaster had just then plunged down from its 50 ft. high ascent that it had attained seconds ago. Near the large sized merry go round, Devrath a young man in his 20s saw a woman. Her features could not been seen for she had her back facing towards him. He was a few feet away from her, but he could distinctly hear her conversation with the security guard in spite of all the noise around him. “I promise, just one ride! Please!” she pleaded. “Madam, what is this, are you out of your mind? This is for children below the age of ten,” he explained. Dev rolled his eyes towards the merry go round. It was painted in vibrant red and blue hues with tiny horses arranged at different levels. It looked adorable, but he; in no way wanted to get on it and neither could he understand why the woman was so bent on having a ride on it. “I swear I’ll give you 100 bucks. It wont break I guarantee. Just one ride! Please!” Dev went forward to see who this woman was. Crouching behind the vacant candyfloss stall, he could now make out her face. She had an olive skin and she was svelte and tall. He tried assuming how much she’d weigh, just so that the ride wouldn’t break. She couldn’t have weighed more than 55 he concluded. She made a beseeching look at the guard and finally got to get on the ride. The guard shook with fear and walked around timidly hoping that his senior authorities wouldn’t see what he’d just done. Dev looked at the woman who had very happily seated herself on the highest horse available. Behind her were tiny kids who couldn’t have been more than 7. As the ride began, Dev could see her face beaming with joy. Her eyes twinkled with childlike innocence as she let her arms wide open and allowed the wind lap at her face. Dev could no longer control his inquisitiveness, as the woman hopped down from the ride and thanked the guard, Dev ran after her and said, “Excuse me!” The woman turned back and looked at him and mouthed, “me?” “Um, yes. Uh- would you mind if I’d ask why you were so desperate to get onto that ride?” he asked. She made a poker face and then said, “Do I know you?” Dev’s face sulked at that remark, wasn’t that what every woman asked? “Uh-no, just that I was very intrigued by your enthusiasm to get on that ride. I mean it’s a kid’s ride and you must definitely be above 20 if I aint mistaken.” He said. “Look here, I really don’t know who you are and I don’t see why I must answer your question; but since you asked, I did that for someone.” She said and looked at him. “Now if you excuse me.” She said, and walked away. “Strange…” He muttered as he stood at the ticket counter buying tickets for himself and his gang of 5 colleagues who had come to the amusement park to watch a 4 – D film. Watching the film he’d forgotten about the woman and life ceased to go on the same path it was headed initially. It had been two months since he’d seen the woman and obviously he had other important work to do than thinking of her, she had then slowly faded into some corner of his mind; until he saw her again. It was two in the afternoon and it was pouring. Dev had come out for his post-lunch tea break and had forgotten his umbrella. Having no option, he decided to wait under the tea stall. “One samosa please.” He’d asked. He looked around; in spite of the deluge the city seemed alive. The blaring horns had now blended with the gush of the rains and he could feel the city pulsating with energy. He sat on one of the rickety old wooden benches with a black cat for company when he saw this woman, with her hands stretched wide apart, gladly getting drenched in the rain. “What is with this woman?” he wondered. She spun around like a little child and jumped across the puddles and then ran into the teashop. “Brother, one piping hot ginger tea for me! And make it sweet.” She added. She sat beside Dev and wiped her head with a tiny handkerchief. “Hi.” Blurted Dev. “Do I know you?” she asked. “This is exactly what you had asked me the last time we’d met.” He said with a smile. She looked away and then suddenly said, “You’re the guy from the amusement park.” He nodded. “I’m Dev” “Nitya.” She said. “You work here?” she asked. “Yeah, I work as a journalist with India Now. And you?” He said. “I used to be a teacher. Had to discontinue it due to some health issues.” He looked at her sympathetically and she let out a sneeze. He asked. “ Do you mind if I’d ask you what drives you to do all these crazy things? Look you’ve got yourself a cold,” he said. There was a long pause. The girl, whom Dev now knew as Nitya threw the cup and sat back, the rain had intensified and cold breeze tickled Dev’s cheeks. “I’ve undergone an organ transplant; the donor was a 10 year old… These were her wishes. So, I just felt that, if I could fulfill these little wishes of the girl; I’d feel good.” She said, in a low voice. “I have an umbrella. I can drop you if you want.” She said. Dev nodded. They walked for a few minutes and the awkwardness grew greater. To break the silence Nitya asked, “Do you have any siblings?” “A sister.” He said. “Oh! What does she do?” “I don’t know.” She stopped. “What do you mean by I don’t know?” “It’s been 4 years since I’ve seen them.” He said. “Why?” “Same old story. Family against my wishes, I ditched them. Came here. They never bothered to find out how I was or anything; why must I?” he asked. “Are you mad? They’re your family you idiot. You cannot be so stupid. I talk to my family literally four times everyday. Dev, I know this is personal but; what you are doing is absurd.” She suggested. Dev cut her short by saying, “It’s here. I should go. Thank you for dropping me till here.” Dev went back to his cubicle and appeared restless. His deepest fears, his biggest weakness had now been rekindled by this woman whom he hardly knew. He had to face it and the only way to do that was by going back. He walked into the same gully where he’d had a taste of some of his sweetest childhood memories. Four years had passed and the banyan tree still looked the same, wise and strong.There were no new houses and neither had the old ones upgraded themselves. He took the first left and walked into the house where two coconut trees sprang into the crimson red evening sky. Through the gate he could catch a glimpse of the window that opened into their dining room. He clutched onto the gate and gazed into the water pipe. Here was where his sister and he would have their water fights. “Father… Mother… Sister…” he thought. He heard some hushed voices coming from his house and saw someone walk through the main door. It was the girl again. She looked forlorn and in her hands she carried a huge square shaped parcel wrapped in white. “Nitya.” He said, amused. Nitya’s expression was pale. “What happened?” he asked, getting a bit restless. The sun was about to set and the moon could now be faintly seen. There was an eerie silence as all the birds had now retreated into their nests. Dev stared at her expectantly. Nitya took a deep breath and after a long pregnant pause she said, “One of the wishes of the girl was to gift her brother a self painted picture.” Dev was perplexed and fearful. Nitya handed him the painting and said, “Four years is a long time, doesn’t matter anyway; this is yours. Take care.” She said, and gave him a solicitous hug. As she walked away, the lights in the house were switched on. Dev could see a grim bespectacled man and a woman in her mid forties wiping her tears. His parents. He ran in, and hugged them tight. The stars twinkled bright in the sky and the nocturnal kings had now taken over the land, once again the place was buzzing with life.

As blank as a white sheet of paper.

Dear Coaching classes,

Thank you for making weekends the most dreaded days of the week,
Thank you for reminding me everyday how dim witted I can be.
Thank you for teaching me how to stay awake even when the professor begins with his lullaby; oops,  I mean lectures.

I feel clean and fresh every time I set into your altar, not fresh as a flower but as fresh and new as a blank sheet of paper that has been drawn out of a printer. Through the class I continue to remain in that slate of blankness (Thanks to Newton and Inertia, which makes it so hard to snap out of my present state) and by the end of the class I feel i've survived an hour long dose of the Indian daily soaps.

As your professors dictate me laws and theorems, my eyelids slowly begin to tumble down and I clench my jaws to suppress the yawn of boredom that awaits its escape from this dreariness. And as I try to emerge as a victor in this biological battle between the body and mind, I realise I've missed out on the crux of the chapter; that one germ of a concept out of which, all those complex, nightmarish problems stem from.

My only companion through these moments of vain, is my darling watch. The watch that always tells me the truth. No matter how bitter it might be, I glance at my watch every 10th minute and sigh in disdain; but the watch whispers back that "This too shall pass" I hold on and occasionally look up but your blocks of physics always slide down my frictionless pages even before I can register what I hear.

Your professors drip with dialogues from 3 Idiots and have a *VIRUS* engraved in each one of them. They voice, or rather petrify us with their constant threats that even a day's backlog will end us being trampled by "All of India's frenzied IIT aspirants" and if that is supposed to motivate us by any chance, I swear you are mistaken; my friend.

I've overcome the sadness and boredom is one last thing I must conquer before I attain the ultimate peaks of resistance and maybe then, resonance. As much as I loathe ruining my Fridays confined in your depressing four walls, I know that the end should be worth it. I still enjoy the half an hour breaks between your horrible three hours of gobbledegook and I shall continue making visits to you; until well, we reach the tipping point.  

Yours unaffectionately

Not another IIT aspirant.                             

To be happy

Over the past few months, ever since my tryst with science began; i've been going through this inner tumult and I happened to stumble upon some really deep and wise realisations… I decided to word one of them, which i've titled as 'To be happy'

We are all very different humans, with different likes, dislikes, priorities, aspirations and weaknesses. But end of the day, we are all sad souls; because trust me, no one is happy. It has often occured to me  that life/god is being unfair and shoving all the sadness only on me. But that is where we all go wrong, god is fair. God gifts us troubles and problems in boxes of the same size, same volume, same price and same quality; just that he wraps them differently.

The poor labourer, who might be working on some building might be dying for money, on the contrary the stinking rich businessman, who travels in an Audi everday might have some other issue that is giving him sleepless nights. But once again, we all have something that still makes us want to hold on. We all have problems that are very different, but life also offers everyone something special, something beautiful to hold on to. It's only when we turn a blind eye to these lovely things does the sadness quotient take over the happiness quotient.

If you are sad, trust me every one else is also going through something which is very similar to your situation. Our priorities are different, which makes it appear as if the other man's troubles are easier than ours but no, that is never true.

A happy man is the one who doesn't allow this worm of sadness to dig into his apple of happiness.
Happiness is all in the mind. Not everyone can do this, if you've been able to; I salute you. {P.S: I still haven't} but what's the harm in trying?

Results ^_^

Since childhood, I was always fascinated by board exams, more importantly results. In our country at least, board exam results are like the official certification for one's academic intelligence because people don't care to bother about what the kid has been doing all his life… Every year there would be some wonder kid in the family, completely unheard of (possibly because he/she was so into books) who would amaze everyone with breath taking percentages.

Like every human being, I too am greedy. I too wanted to be one of them. When we dream we dream only about the good things. I thought it would be pleasurable to study at night for hours together under the glare of the study lamp, glancing at the beautiful moon once in a while and what not. But when my turn came, I realised how I resented staying up at night in the company of my books… And the moon? The moon turned into 'blue moon', that had absconded from the cacophony of the concrete jungle.

Nevertheless I managed to survive all of that, wrote my board exams and waited for my results. Rumours sparked regarding the announcement of results, each one with a different date. I tried imagining how I'd feel on the day my results would be out, how pangs of anxiety and nervousness would pinch me from the inside. Surrpisingly none of that happened.

I was in one of my finest moods, watching my favourite film for the umpteenth time, things couldn't have been better; when my cousin texted me asking for my results. I very innocently explained that the results weren't out yet and that it would have been some cheap prank played by someone…; he insisted me to check. I was baffled, pausing the movie; I logged into the site and typed in my roll number… There it was! The prize of the sacrifices I'd made. The times I'd chosen to be in the company of books rather than TV had paid off.

I dont know if I am the wonder kid. I've realised that it doesn't matter any way. The excitement has died out for me; but I know this little achievement of mine is something I can always cherish. This personal satisfaction that i've gained is worth it all. But like someone said 'success is not permanent and failure is not fatal it is the courage to continue that counts'

I now have bigger problems to deal with, scarier sums to solve and annoyingly bigger sacrifices to make… But it goes on. Hasn't it always been that way?

Sailing across the ocean of science

I've been attending some coaching class or the other, effectively for the past 3 years. As a girl who used to boast of a tuition-free childhood, I'm now shunting between school, tuitions and coaching classes every day. There is nothing remarkable about it, sadly; because it's not just my sad story; it's what nearly science student goes through.

School, is the regular old school, infested with some no-nonsense teachers, some naively straight teachers… basically a myriad of men and women, who in spite of their best efforts fail to get my attention. Tuitions are possibly the only time when i actually pay attention and something actually gets into my head.

Now I come to the coaching classes. This is the toughest and the most dreary part of the day. Spanning over three long hours; I sit, trying hard, like, really hard to get stuff into my head. Shamelessly, I ask the silliest questions to ward off even the slightest speck of iffyness in my head but all goes in vain when I'm confronted with a "problem" as they say. One tiny problem that ideally should trigger a spark in my nerves and come up with the answer, instead, it lies there; on that white sheet of paper idly staring back at me. While I try to use my brains the fellow boys in my class who are enviably intelligent blurt out the answer and I sit there; staring stupidly, with my mouth wide open with awe.

It's going to be like this for the next two years, no doubt. It's going to be hell like, tormenting and what not. I will be a body on the earth which will be subjected to forces more than just gravitational force. But even though this 'problem' wont leave, comfort is always available. As spiteful as it may sound, I feel comforted when my friends fail to understand the theory I clearly suck at; the fact that we're all on the same boat really helps me in sailing through this ocean of science; the waves that swept me off my sweet life till grade 10, but hopefully the waves and mother nature will be nice enough to sail me through safely and quickly to the shore.

Been there, Done that.

I've blogged enough about exams but this one needed a special mention. The Boards, the much hyped about boards have finally ended. I've been there, done that and all i've got to say is that it was great fun! I don't think i've enjoyed writing some exam so much. In spite of all the nerve-wrecking tension and baseless fears; that I did go through, it was brilliant fun. The experience was thoroughly worth going through. 

I remember the day before the first exam I was hardly myself. Repeating the same maths problem for the umpteenth time and calming myself down with Katy Perry on the other side, I was scared; Scared is an understatement. I must say I was drowning in the ocean of fears for no reason. The next morning was even worse, in fact I was so scared that I have no memories of what I'd done that day. I must have mechanically gotten into my uniform and revised my formulas one last time.

Reaching the center I was petrified and honestly, I didn't want to meet my two supremely intelligent friends fearing that they'd just further scare the hell out of me. But I cannot thank them enough for bearing the brunt of my imbecility, but they were no less. In fact there were just one or two placid souls otherwise everyone else was the same.

The answer sheets were given and the-already-tensed-me, was becoming restless minute by minute. The much-awaited question paper was in my hands. I flipped through the pages, things seemed okay, in control. The moment i started with the paper all the dunning inner voices seemed to have calmed down. 

Through out the exam, 1 O' clock was my favourite time, around this time I'd ideally be done with the paper and I would be checking it; when the sound of the hymn from some nearby mosque would resonate within the exam hall. I loved that moment. It was both enchanting and soothing. At about 1:20 the warning bell would go off and I would go through the "Last 10 minutes trauma" ( You can read that post here : http://www.mewondermi.blogspot.in/2013/08/the-final-ten-minutes.html )

Over the past two months ever since I'd begun with my preparation for these boards, I've been through a myriad of emotions. Much more than what Karan Johar would have ever squeezed into his films; I've been through the conventional ones like anger, sadness and joy and a much of unconventional ones like regret, pangs of envy, guilt (When i'd possibly give in to my T.V cravings) and what not!

Writing a board is different from writing just another exam and in spite of the entire system of boards being made 'optional' by the Board; I feel this experience is surreal yet worth going through.