My Jaded Appetite

Hell's devils in disguise

2007-07-12T13:25:00.000+05:30

On the glorious morning of June the 21st, the first day in Lucknow, the new PGP batch of IIML aka ‘IIM Hel(L)’ was to be inducted. Everyone had enjoyed their two idyllic days before the official grilling was about to begin. Though we were apprehensive yet consoled each other that the tag ‘Hell’ was just a hoax and everything would turn out to be fine just like good ol’ graduation days hoping against hope. But the biggest hoax of our lives was yet to be witnessed.

The induction process started as scheduled and everyone went to the mess to enjoy the surprisingly delectable food. Everyone was charmed by the wonderful facilities (read Air conditioned classrooms) when suddenly a terrified ‘fuchcha’ came out screaming that a quiz was scheduled at 23:29:59 hrs for the newbies. And thus we began the extensive mobile networking to find out what all this was about.
We were told that this is the quiz which will be used to “evaluate us” and a profiling will be done accordingly. This quiz according to our oh so compassionate seniors, would also act as a grading scale for selection to the ‘prestigious’ committees. So everyone started last minute slogging, trying to cram ‘How to read a balance sheet’, the book sent to us for along with the offer letter, as fast as our tiny brains allowed. This was just the first shock of the day.
When we returned to PGP block to resume the induction program, another notice welcomed us inviting us for ‘The Health Run’ organized by the Students’ Council. We were told to run six kilometers i.e. two complete rounds of the campus, which only got me thinking that what god-forsaken crime had we committed by simply coming to IIML. The seniors accompanied us on their bikes passing “encouraging” comments and filming us when we were probably looking our worst. Everyone was furious (mostly at themselves) when no one even took attendance after the run. All efforts in the dust-bin. I wondered how exactly we were being judged.

Drenched in sweat and tears even, we went to study for the quiz. Most of us missed our lovely dinners for it. Everyone was slogging trying to achieve the maximum in what was just a 15-20 minute quiz. But we were soon to find out that it was rescheduled from 12:00 to 3:00 am. Ok wait a minute…a three hour ‘Quiz’? there must be some mistake. Where do people take three hour long quizzes? So the nickname wasn’t so false after all. Giving a seemingly never-ending quiz stretching well into the night after a rigorous day including 6 kilometers of running was the impossibly mammoth task we completed on our very first day in L….hell. The third and agonizingly painful blow of the day came when suddenly the duration was cut short by half an hour and we were asked to attempt all questions failure to which would lead to disqualification.
10 minutes left and most of us were left with case studies we might not be able to do in hours even after passing out from here (if we ever do pass out).

The forth shock came when we were asked to submit an article on a video shown there (“and ya please don’t make any notes while viewing…its tacky”) by 07:59:59 hours the next day. 07:59:59…who talks like this in the normal world? In the army maybe.
At breakfast the next shock awaited us when we found out that we had to submit a resume by next morning after verification by three mentors (whose contacts were nowhere to be found obviously). Then there was a case study at 15:59:59 hrs, then a group discussion at 23:59:59 hrs. By now I had lost track of the number of shocks faced.
The next day, we had presentations on some very weird topics. ‘Marlboro Woman and Revlon Man’, ‘Smells like teen spirit’, ‘Red or Blue’ et al. People who had lost their minds by now and forgotten to wear formals were sent back to their hostels. Incidentally they were asked to report back within 5 minutes in which some had to shave, some had to arrange for neck-ties, some had to find time to breathe…but who cares. The presentation turned out to be the biggest deceit. Seniors cluttered the rooms outnumbering the 60 odd first yearites. All sorts of comments, jokes and sarcastic banter were the reward for all the hard work we had put in.

At last a batch meet was called in which some how most of the second year was also present. A list of 57 students was announced. They were supposedly the poor souls who would not be allowed to join any committee. After all the hue and cry it was revealed to us that what we had just participated in and busted our hump for three days was the biggest hoax of our previously simple lives. To compensate for it we were invited to the institute party. What followed then were some unforgettable moments of giving bumps to the council members and partying (boozing?) well into the night. Next day, after the hangover and comprehending what we had gone through in the past few days, I think it became pretty evident to one and all why this place is called IIM Hel(L) and who were the devils running the place.

Is ignorance Bliss?

2007-06-16T02:11:00.000+05:30

The other day as I was passing by the Architecture Department, the paintings on the wall outside the department caught my eye. May be it was the My-college-life-is-about-to-end effect, I don’t know, but it made me nostalgic.
You see in first year, after the seemingly endless Engineering Graphics prac. Which marked the end of a seemingly endless week for us, we used to jump the Archi. Gate in order to take a shortcut to SB(Sarojini Bhawan for newbies).

So whenever we crossed the paintings, we used to discuss that which was the best. It always got me thinking because at first, I would like them all. I would actually wonder how someone would decide which one was the best. But whenever I looked closer, I would find numerous flaws in each one which would bring me to a conclusion I come to very frequently-they are all badly done. I’ll explain later how this is related to my next thought; but my next thought was- Is Ignorance Bliss?

As I observed the people and things around me I couldn’t believe how this phenomenon was so palpable everywhere. When I meet someone new or do something new I try not be critical about him/her/it at first. I try to stay positive. I think most of us do. But whats so common yet so startling is that when we get to know a person better; we find the flaws, observe the defense mechanisms, understand the nuances in all actions and expose them so blatantly in front of us that all the beauty is lost. The bliss is over. No more ignorance. Or may be its just my cynicism, I don’t know. I am sure the reader is thinking, “hey I know all this crap. What now?”

I think I am just sad to know that knowledge about some one/thing can be so dangerous. I guess its just one of the consequences of me being so judgmental/opinionated about every goddamn thing. Or maybe that’s how our mind works.
But then after reaching rock bottom in this situation, I found something actually pleasant. It’s when we cross this ugly phase something beautiful comes our way. I guess I am not talking about the paintings anymore. I am talking about something bigger. Intangible. May be its designed this way only. One has to see the lowest low in order to achieve a high that can be real. I think being a “Science” student I would like to put it as- the steady state can be reached only after the disturbing transients.
But here’s the catch: in most cases we don’t have either the time or the energy to reach there. That’s why with most people (Mark my Most) I end up being my usual hyper-critical, sardonic & extremely bored self thus exhausting myself during the transients only.
As for those who choose to remain ignorant; all this crap is a walk in the park. But even though all this may seem like a lot of trouble I think I choose to stay in the light and ignore the bliss.

Homecoming

2007-06-14T06:13:00.000+05:30

I take my writing very seriously. So seriously that It took me three years to even start it. But now I have. And I hope it eventually doesn't become one of those casual flings that have become the hot thing these days.

What took me so long to pen down something? Was it because I had lesser thoughts back then? Was it because I was a simpler person? Or was it simply that I was too busy. The answers being No, Maybe, No. Which brings me to the age old question - are we ever too busy to do the things we want to do? I may not know a lot of things but I am pretty sure the answer to this is no. I have never been and this coming from someone who is as lazy as it gets says a lot. So maybe I was just looking for the right time to cut the ribbon. But this fine morning I realized that the time is never ripe or may I say the time is always so to do something that makes you feel perky again in this very jaded life.

With a not so great book by Chuck Palahniuk(the guy who gave us fight club) in my hand and pink floyd doing whatever they do best in my room, I got to thinking that whenever I read something the first thing I notice is the writing style. I bet all of us do. And I can’t help but wonder that how can so many people know exactly what to write and how to too. Even the bad writers seem to do. And it amazes me because I always seem to have a million thoughts in my head and whenever I try to organize them, it becomes too hard. My train of thought always loses track. And crashes.

I am the talking type. The thinking type. The reading type. But writing is for more organized people I guess. So I thought what the heck, I’ll write about what I talk, read and think. So here’s assuming this is not like one of those exercise schedules or good routine plans I dream of that never see the day’s light.
Wish me luck.