College So Far…

Sitting in the computer lab surrounded by dozens of people yacking away to glory and an even annoying couple ( read the chic, who has an irritating uber-girlie voice and it’s taking me every ounce of restraint I’ve got to stop myself from shouting at her) , this probably isn’t the best time and place for writing a new post. But then that would be just another excuse for delaying it.

Its been more than a year since I joined college and in this brief time I’ve had more life-lasting experiences than I’ve ever had in my 19 years of existence. Things have been good and at times they’ve been pretty ugly but love it or hate it you just can’t live without it. I sometimes wonder why I chose to come so far from home, it certainly wasn’t due to lack of choices (thats a simple way of saying that I wasn’t a complete idiot). I had a few decent options in hand which were either close to home or had some of my friends going there but I chose a school that was farthest from Delhi and had no one, absolutely no one I was even familiar with. The decision to choose the right college gave me many sleepless night, hell I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown but looking back at my decision I feel this is the best place where I could have landed up in. My decision to study in gandhinagar was largely based on an urge to leave Delhi and my home. 18 years of total dependence and disgust of Delhi and its hypocrisy probably told me that I needed a break. I also felt the need to be on my own, to start making my own decisions, to solve my own problems and to stop relying on my parents to get everything done. And I believe living in a hostel so far away from home has probably helped me in achieving what I wanted- Self Dependence and Freedom.

It was a little tough initially, as I had always known. College is a new life altogether. No one stops you or questions you. Things have to be managed, the mess food needs getting used to, severe adjustments need to be made with the people around you and the worst of all- you have to get used to Indian-style toilets 😛 . But its returning home after nearly 3 months of struggle that gives you a sense of achievement and purpose. To me, a guy whose parents would go all hyper if his movements weren’t accounted for, it was nothing less than a battle won. College brought me face to face with a mixed bag of people from different backgrounds and a variety of different places. I learned to live with the smokers, the dopers, the geeks and the achievers. I learned to respect each of them for the talent and skills they had, tried to imbibe them and neglected the rest. I got a chance to experienced the fun and enjoyment that my father would often talk about when recalling his college days – sitting at the galla chatting for hours together while Ashok Bhai hands out milk-shakes and sodas, setting out at 3 a.m. on bikes for Ahmedabad in nothing but shirts, shorts and slippers, having tea and breakfast at whatever dhaaba would be open and relishing every moment of it. Then there were those drunken escapades- where everyone forgot about the upcoming exams, laughed at the stupidest of jokes, danced on the lamest of songs and hugged each other as a symbol of true friendship. Its the kind of stuff you grow up listening to from your parents and grandparents and wish you could have been there and when you do get there you realize that your dad’s dinner time recollections have now met their match. But amidst all the fun and frolic I still have a regret, a regret that I still haven’t found the slightest semblance of what everyone calls ‘A True Friend’. Yes I have people I hang out with, party with, booze with but when I when its one of those days when I feel like having a good heart to heart talk, I still have to rely on a handful of people I have back home. Unfortunately I found more detractors than supporters, more people willing to pull me down than people ready to extend a helping hand. And yes it does get lonely at times but then I have to be thankful to these people. If they weren’t there I might have lost my sense of purpose but their existence gives me the motivation to achieve and then rub it in their faces 🙂

I feel like writing more but that dumb chic just won’t stop whining to her guy and her voice is starting to get on my nerves :S. But come to think of it I still have more than 2 years left in college that means 2 times the experiences I’ve had till now. Remind me that I have to give a full account after I’m done with my degree will you?

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The Chronicles Of Singha Pura Part-II

Yes I think I should have come out with this post sometime last month but thats what coming back to college does to you. And mind you ‘studies’ don’t have anything to do with this. Though long overdue, I have to get over with this. I just can’t keep the Part-I hanging without any sequel.

Strictly speaking this is an account of my stay in Malaysia, but since I am in love with Singapore and since Kuala Lampur and Singapore are separated by a mere 5 hours road trip, I shall write this post as an extension to my earlier one.

Now most people would prefer to take a cruise to Malaysia from Singapore, but we decided that a road journey would be more satisfying and we would be able to get a glimpse of the country side. The differences between the two nations became apparent right after we crossed the border. Whereas Sinagapore to me was a perfect nation, Malaysia seemed more closer home in the sense that it had its fair share of villages, slums and lower middle class apartments. The infrastructure and the greenery though presented a stark contrast to any place in India. The journey was amazingly smooth comparable to Rajdhani express in speed and comfort (God bless their highways!). Malaysia I was told was a Muslim nation but unlike the others it was a peaceful one where the majority Malay Muslims lived in peace with the Tamil Hindus and the Chinese Buddhists. The idea of an Islamic nation having people of other beliefs and no strife was a little difficult to digest. Of course later I was proved right.

In Malaysia we put up in a resort at Genting, a highland region housing the largest casino in Malaysia. That brings us to another interesting point. What is a large casino doing in an Islamic country?? Doesn’t Islam prohibit gambling?? Well yes it does and I did see large signs in front of the casino banning the entry of any Muslims. The reason why that casino is still up there is because of the money it rakes in from gambling. The owner of the casino is a Chinese, and from what I found out he has to shell out 20 million bucks to the ruling party every year to ensure the smooth running of his business. So here we have a largely muslim dominated party making major moolah indirectly from gambling.

We hired a Chinese cabbie during our stay in Malaysia. Michael, was one of the most entertaining and jovial person I’ve encountered in my life. He would keep the cab rides alive by his constant chatter, explaining to us how the system works in Malaysia. Through him I found out how in a ‘peaceful’ way Islam propagates its agendas.

“I have 3 children sir, 1 boy and 2 girls. Cannot afford to have more sir, the government does not support it, but if a Malay clerk have 6 children the government offers him loan so he can buy a new car”. Listening to Michael I realized how frustrated and suppressed he was. Not just him, this frustration seemed to exist in all the people I met belonging to the Buddhist or Hindu minorities. “The government gives all the powerful positions to the Malays and all the useless designations are given to us”. Later at night we dined with a local Chinese family, acquaintances of my dad. A conversation similar to the one we had ensued. “They demand that any new company that sets base in Malaysia give a 30% stake to the government. Then they place 30% of their own men in the organization. The top level will have Malays and so will the bottom level. You are stuck somewhere in the middle. The top don’t work the bottom don’t work and you have to do everything yourself”. I inquired about their religious practices. I had already seen the women garb themselves in a dupatta that covered their forehead but in no way was it fulfilling the purpose of the hijab that Islam requires. Michael had an amusing answer for this, ” These girls spend all day roaming around with their boyfriends but when they have to meet their mother the wear this silly head-dress to show that they are good Muslim girls”. This practice did seem queer, because it wasn’t serving the purpose of a burqua and all it did was make you sweat. Coming back to the conversation we were having at dinner -” They read namaaz 5 times a day, how do you expect you factory workers to work if they keep taking breaks to pray?!! Then they want the fridays off, they say they have to go to the mosque but always the women go shopping and the men play golf”.

Indeed Malaysia is a peaceful nation, there doesn’t seem to be any violence or forceful repression of any sort. Rather the government has adopted better ‘non-violent’ model to promote their agendas, using religion as a weapon to play politics ( and vice-versa). They call themselves a modern Muslim nation. But for a religion that takes pride in strict adherence to their practices, the ideology of the Malay Muslims seems neither here nor there, to be honest it seems confusing.

It is also sad seeing that most of the workers and cleaners were largely Indians, having no knowledge about their roots ( they serve dossa sized parathas with sambhar and paratha sized dossas with dal and the rice comes with bhindi!!). And we wonder why India is so filthy- All the sweepers are out cleaning other countries …

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Hello Hello Hello Is There Anybody In There……

I was supposed to come out with part-II of my chronicles, but I guess I’ll just postpone writing it for some other ‘sober’ time. This post on the other is set against the backdrop of ‘intoxicated’ moments .

Before I begin this post I have to acknowledge the fact that it takes very little to get me tipsy…who am I kidding?? I get completely sloshed and it’s not even funny. While I’ve noticed people totally losing it when wasted ( aye aye :S) I couldn’t help but make a note of the thoughts that run through my head at that point of time so that I can analyze them when I’m in full control of my actions. It’s then I realised that my actions during that period are guided by my subconscious thoughts, those things you shove to the back of your head beacause you are not sure how others around you will respond to them ( low self-confidence to put it nicely). All those things you try to hide in that one corner of your mind just come bursting out because the closet that reads: ‘disregarded thoughts & emotions’ gets inundated with variety of complex feelings we put inside it.

My mom always talks about her first job interview where she was asked to describe ‘catharsis‘. This word of Greek origin, refers to a powerful stimulus that leads in a release of pent up energy and emotions, a phenomena I consider very important if sanity is to be maintained. In Greek the precise meaning would be ’emotional cleansing’.

While my mom did tell me that this often happens when you’ve seen a drama or a movie packed with emotions, I found out that alcohol does the same to you. So does senility.

It just makes me sad that I need to be stoned to realise who I really am and what I really want.

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The Chronicles of Singha Pura Part-I

It’s a funny feeling, boarding a flight at 7 p.m. , scheduled to reach it’s destination in 5 hours and then landing at 10 p.m. (IST). This is as close at it gets to having more than 24 hours in a day, finding time to fit in 5 hours worth of in-flight movies in 3 hours, if that makes any sense.

Since I started my chronicles from the end, I shall have to use the flashback mode to write my accounts…..

What is the first thing that comes to your find when you land in a foreign territory, eagerly looking forward to the various sights and sounds it promises to offer you??..What exactly comes to your mind when the air hostess welcomes you to your destination, and in her seductive voice ( not true for all airlines) wishes that you have a happy stay there??……………..You look for the nearest toilet of course, and that is exactly what I did. There is no better way devised by the human mind to mark your arrival in an alien territory than peeing all over it. After sitting through a 5 hour flight, with the air conditioner seemingly creating sub zero temperatures, you feel a rush of relief and joy when you take a piss in the airport toilet. And with the flow comes a euphoric feeling and thoughts like ,’Ha Singapore daddy’s here’ are bound to cross your mind.

Forgive me for these bits of profanity because my stay in Singapore did not give me anything ‘filthy’ to write about. Hence the rest of the account shall be devoid of anything vulgar. 

In my opinion if any place ever came to be called perfect it would have to be Singapore. Every nook and corner seems to be prim and proper, not a single tree looks out of place. A great deal of effort has been put into the aesthetics and it clearly shows. The jungle, both the real and the concrete, merge beautifully together. It came as a surprise to me that a country spanning just 25 km N-S and 40 km E-W could have so much area under green cover. As one of the cab drivers told me Singapore actually increased the forest cover from 35% to 47% in the last few years, and considering Singapore’s strategic role in commerce and trade that is one impressive figure.

Most of this, as well as Singapore’s commercial success can be attributed to a single value – discipline. No cab will jump a red light even in the middle of a night or on a deserted road. No person crosses the road until the signal directs him to. If someone plans to take you out for dinner at 8 p.m. he’ll arrive at your hotel at 7:45. A 9 to 5 job implies you work efficiently for those alloted 8 hours and go back home, no overtime and no excuses. A stark contrast from what we observe in India isn’t it?

In every country you find whiners, the ones who’ll complain about something or the other. But in Singapore I found people who were proud to be its citizens be they Chinese, Indians or Malays. And why shouldn’t they be – the system is fair, each person’s religion & culture is respected, there is no corruption, no cheating and professionalism exudes from the people be it a CEO of a company or a cabbie.  Unlike many other small nations, which fade into oblivion or remain unheard of, this one manages to become a model for all developing nations, and this can be attributed to its citizens who contribute enthusiastically and take pride in their small nation’s progress. 

I also happened to visit the NTU campus and now I am regretting my decion to do so. The fact that I got so close to getting a seat here but missed it (due to an utterly stupid reason) shall always nag me and haunt my dreams (damn that school Computer Science building!). They are a great nation, they just need to work on their north indian cuisine a bit.

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