The feeling divine
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to kotharus indianesis…
thou speaketh of thy heart thats queer
thou speakth of thy book thats thick…
but shall not have thou… speakth for those… who’ve given away their
heart n
those…who have no book…
for giving thy voice to them…
is the least thou cud do..
as thou has got the most lustrous armour…
(made of what material i wonder??)
anyways.. dear kotharus remember……………………..
‘we are meander and we mean it.’
and promise that thou shall not get frust..as quizzes come and go..
but thou shud stay as u r… unshakeable and unpredictable!!
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The fair lady who sent this mail had this Shakespearean fit of thee,thy and thou.
Here is the reply to the reply:
I spake of my heart thats queer
and now shalt I speak to thou my peer
Thou speakest of hearts given away,
Pray tell me has thy heart gone that way?
I am for those of the lost hearted,
and one of those souls parted.
What thou art I think I know,
my people come to me themselves though.
My voice speaketh for them,
Thy heart needest to hear the same.
Solitude is what mine armour is,
its lustre is but a fake bliss.
The day cometh when the armour shall be broken,
by the feeling divine shall my defences be forsaken.
Pray the day comes early,
I shall not then be solitary.
Pray I get my feeling divine,
Roses, fragrance, valentine.
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Nothing serious!! You can be sure that I am not off my rocker. This poem is merely a device for…… Poems can so easily be put to this use.Only that I had nothing else but this for a rhyme.
‘ope thou likest my poetic device
though for archaic I am novice.
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Thanks for reading readers.
My feeling divine.
Still alive
( with due apologies to Robert Frost)
His house is in the library rubbles.
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his books fill up with scribbles.
My little heart must think it queer,
To stop without a canteen near,
Between the books and their rickety rack,
The darkest weekend of the year.
He gives his beating beat a beat,
To ask if this poem is retreat.
The only other activity’s the sleep,
Of easy guys and their wheezing fit.
The books are boring, wide and thick,
But I have promises to keep,
And pages to read before I sleep,
And pages to read before I sleep.
) etc. etc. but noneovthesecanstopmoifromliving. Stay tuned..I will be back..alive atleast for the next post.Frisky Freshers for Frolic
Audi, IITK
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NOTE:
Just returned from Audi after ragg… no seeing the freshers preparing for their first performance on the campus soil, I mean the audi stage. The names mentioned here are true but the same may not hold for the events which might have a touch of exaggeration or more-than-required imaginativeness (mirch-masala journalism). Read on and forgive me for the run-on sentences that I am so fond of (COM200 stuff) .
“One, two, three, four! One, two, three … “, as Rajil Jain shouts these words to some docile first-yearites from the fairer sex, they burst into action and start waving their hands and legs in apparently random fashion which, this humble correspondent was told, was dance. To the correspondent, who never had any chance to shake the mass of his boulder body, it was a strange place. Not far away, Avichal Chaturvedi and Shreyansh Jain were guiding the boys from Y5 to wriggle-a-friggle out of their bodies. I talked to Shreyansh last night about the dance.
“Abe kal baat karna yaar! Thak ke choor ho chuka hoon!”, (Please talk to me tomorrow, I’m dead tired right now) and on insisting he told me,”Guys are all right but the gals are not up to the mark”. (Notice that I talked about imaginativeness in the heading). I now see elsewhere and all over I see buzzzzzzzzzzzzz… The Auditorium is buzzing with hell of a lot of activity. What I told you above was a bit of activity straight from the entrance place just outside the main hall. My eyes now go adrift and I see our very own Atul Jain (for the uninitiated, he is: Editor, Hindi Section, Meander and a strange bloke for that matter). I would have been enjoying a movie or something in my room but for this guy who was thoroughly impressed by the negligence this correspondent showed towards initiating this newscast. I avoid his gaze and enter the side-section adjoining the entrance hall, just after the audi-potable-water-supply. Mohammad Saud Afzal is leaning on the wall and his eyes flash on seeing me. Work is going on, serious work. Its this big poster thingy over which the ickle firsties are rubbing the life blood – I mean rubbing the colors.
Several people are loitering around in the place. Many known faces and several unknown ones as well. I hear that the juniors are allowed to breathe, drink water, sweat (and stink) and be ragged amidst all this fanfare. As I see faces with different expressions, my ears suddenly catch the words: “Yeh mera bachha hai (this is my kid).”
We have a bit of a problem. Call the authorities because there has been a physical offence against – a second year done by -a first year. Mr. Wriggly – legs had his stroke of adrenaline and lifted Rajil Jain in air (by his midriff of course) declaring his parentage.
Inside the audi the backdrop work is going on. Tarun Verma and Alok Kumar Singh are busy with the bachhas. Without disturbing anyone and without grabbing my chance to rag – oops – interact with firsties after ten, I come out to the entrance hall and then go back to side-section. Anurag Bhatt is standing, “supposedly” helping guys for compering. I shake a hand. Good for me, meeting biggies. Along with him comes Chakresh Mishra and we khusur pusur about this newspiece.
We go out and see some firsties resting on the floor. As ideal seniors, this turns out to be highly intolerable for us. So we go and start ‘interacting’ with them. Whole Y5 is born sports batch. Everyone from the batch is a sports hobbyist but please do not be surprised if our hockey fan Mr. So-and-so is unable to name the captain of Indian Hockey Team. Or that a person interested in History (buahahahahaha… villainous, demon like laughter followed by a strong stich on the correspondent’s lever while having immense disbelief and feeling of amazement: concerted reaction) does not know that 100 year war did not go on for hundred years, but more. Among the five firsties we got, one was a girl who obediently went to bring more girls from her year. Mean while the boys start to go away. The girls arrive and as they introduce themselves, we are introduced to Indian women of the 21st century: sportswoman, games wiz. novel reader and a poetess who does not remember any of her poems. We are talking and talking when suddenly the coordinators arrive on the scene.
“Coordinators not allowed”, shouts a firsty on the command of the demon of a second year standing near him. The talk goes on and slowly, the four girls who were there initially, turn into one. No no, this is none of the usual P C Sarkar stuff. I mean the three were taken away for dancing. We are left with miss poetess and are joined by Mr. M S Charan (coordinator, HLS). The color of poetess’ face was fading fast and just then I remembered that I was in audi for reporting the preparation of firsties for the fresher’s nite.
Vagabond me, I walk from place to place in Audi; spot-to-spot, seeing various shades of colors, happiness, weariness, shouting, dancing, singing, ragging, ding-ding, ping-ping… The audi is teeming with life: the true spirit of IITK, revealed to the Y5 for the first time. They will never forget it though they do forget the poems they write. The freshers are ready to put up a good show on 14th. The countdown has begun for fresher’s nite as well as for the freeing of freshers from the shackles of ‘friendly’ interaction with seniors. Whatever be the plight of the freshers about being overworked and tired, their is a sense of satisfaction (the imaginativeness I talked about in the heading) and achievement on the faces of Y5. They are practicing, doing hard work and that too willingly (i.e. by the bullying power of their seniors; please imagine a villanous laughter at this point)!!
Today is Saturday (yes silly, it has begun, or already ended if this junk has been allowed for a larger time slot on e-meander) and the firsties are gonna make for a night-out. Full practice on the purva-ratri of fresher’s night.
Having seen everything to my heart’s desire, I step out of the entrance hall as the seniors shepherd the firsties for their jobs. ‘Dus Bahane’ is ringing in the distance (not so distant buddy, I am just out of the workplace but ‘distance’ adds effect) as I make out for the iron gates. I have a life to live, a nap to take, an article to write and blah-blah, bleat-bleat, roar-roar, mumble-wimble hu hu ha ha – my ‘Dus Bahane’.’
Auditorium, IITK se main Arvind Kothari, Blah Blah Sog-Sog ke saath, Meander. (The ‘Aaj Tak’ effect).
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PS: I did this piece yesterday for e-Meander, reporting the preparations for Freshers’ Nite ’05. Lot of spice added…
‘Fiddle….’ : References
15. Baap/Maa : Student Counselor
16. Ikka, bikka, cikka, dikka, fakka : A, B, C ,D, F respectively – grades – the most crucial part of IITK life.
Fiddle-de-Dee from a frisky fourth year
This article might sound like being written by someone sitting on the hall roof with winds blowing, trees swaying, thoughts adrift and the western sun shining just before the sunset. I felt nostalgic before the day I walked out. In what follows, I do not want to ‘teach’ anything to Y5 or others or to even leave a message for them. I have written what and how I felt and I think anyone ( or to be sure, most of the people ) in my place would call it a vantage and would have written a similar account.
FIDDLE WITH WORDS:
Four years ago when I came to IITK, it was not just boarding a train, landing at Kanpur Central and then taking a tempo to IIT in the ( now ) usual “…. IT bhaiya, IT Kalyanpur…” fashion ( laden with suitcases and bags ) while eating wafers or biscuits. I had so many dreams – everyone has. While the reader can be sure that this scribble is not about what happened to or of my dreams but it is certainly about what became of me.
I thought four years is a mighty long time. Well to tell you the truth, its not! As I look back now, I feel I was in a dream – a dream that broke to early and I woke up to find that it’s not even dawn ( and MT is not yet open ). In the last four years, I had had too much. Having seen this much, I cannot decide. Sometimes I feel that after these years I really wanted to go away from this place. I lost opportunities, friends, motivations and had some brutal brushes with reality. But then I see the other side of the coin – about how much this place has given me. Opportunities, friends, motivations, attitude and above all my memories. Memories enough to last a life time : so many that they might slip off my mind some day.
When I came here, I as ordinary as a guy can be. This place really made me something, good or bad, I do not know but as I walk out, I am steady, I have a way ahead on which I can tread. So what will I remember from my stay here? Well I think almost everything done here was remarkable. Life here is a daily adventure or nothing ( my apologies to Helen Keller ) and so I take away with me a heck of a lot of memories.
RAGGING SAGA :
That red carpet ragging period where our fundae were ‘corrected’ and ‘knowledge’ was imparted to us – the legacy ( linguistic or otherwise ) of IITK students since the institute’s inception. The ‘informal introduction’ with seniors, their bragging that our ragging was nothing compared to what they had faced and then us repeating the same words to Y2 and forth. Nightly ragging sessions in rooms, quad, LHC or Audi ( which did not have permanent seats during our first year ) with seniors causing our pants to slide off due to sweating. Its like, FEAR….HARASSMENT….and…ACTION…..and then the glory of getting an INTRO or the tears of shame and not being able to ‘kholufy’. I felt miserable then – most people do but after that I thought it was fun. Some funny creatures acting like ‘all-time-bakaits’ in front of docile firsties. It is amazing how easily we all forgot our miseries and tears of ragging period and so easily ‘harassed’ ( Counseling people use this term for that fun in quad, rooms, mess and elsewhere ) or in lingua franca, ‘ imparted knowledge’ to and ‘trained’ our juniors the next year and the year after that and gave intros and treats to ‘deserving’ candidates. I saw less of the Y4 people but even then meeting them and having ‘informal’ introduction with them was fun as always.
From the first year, I distinctly remember the NCC and PE. These were, I suppose the most useless activities done by me in the first year ( and sadly throughout the second year because of the sincerity I showed during my first time ). 1-2..1-2 parades , the shortcuts in PE sprints and the bunks. What fun it was!
I am happy that I didn’t bunk the lectures ( that is, till the second semester of first year ). Well nobody needs to be inspired by the bracketed words coz the result of that was a first year CPI that I would prefer to jump down from the fac-b than to reveal it here. I would just say that it took me five long semesters to reach above 8. I will never forget those days. The funny and characteristic creatures ( NO DISRESPECT INTENDED ) called ‘profs’ fully packed with their torture gear : quizzes, midsems, endsems, zuks, ekka, bikka, sikka, dikka, dussa and fukka. Those glorious DOAA letters that my parents had the ( mis ) fortune of receiving twice and then receiving a proficiency letter. It was hard ground. Nonetheless, from most of the professors I understood not just aspects of my degree course but also some aspects of life, especially in the later part of my four year stay. But that doesn’t soften my hold about the tension and night-outs I had to bear due to them
( reader should notice that how easily I have forgotten the mistakes that I made and which led to me to such a glorious academic experience and how easily I have ‘thopufied’ my sins over the back of the professors ).
Lib or library was like a mainstay of academic life here. This was because it gave us a chance to abuse our more acad-cautious friends whom we awarded the name ‘maggu’ ( at one time I was strongly of the opinion to change the word to…)just as our seniors did and juniors are doing and will do. We always thought that how a person can spend the whole weekend at a place full of suffocation, sleep, smell of dust and of course books. I even attempted to copy the lib-crusaders but ended up sleeping in the battlefield. At the same time lib was our refuge during the exams. Exam days always saw a huge change in us ‘chaapus’, as if Judas turned to Peter. However group study in lib usually and quite expectedly turned to bulla sessions so we enjoyed lib just as we enjoyed the quad.
Academics apart, there were those thrilling co-curriculars. No, not the scrapped and revived GALAXY. We were unfortunate not to have a full fledged one but yes we had Antaragni, Udgosh, Techkriti, Umaang, Josh, Unmaad, Deepshikha, Deepanjali, hall days and what not. Antaragni brought to our lives a lot of rhythms, shapes and colors ( if you see what I mean ). It was good to see it improve year after year for four years ( I hope the same for future ). Meeting so many people from different colleges and managing may be small but yet important part( s ) of the mega event was an experience by itself. Udgosh, Unmaad and Josh were nothing more than ‘haath-pair-uthao’ sessions for me but they certainly provided a lot of bhasad scope. Techkriti was serious stuff. It was good and enjoyable even though the circuits didn’t work and the robots didn’t move. No comments on Megabucks. Hall Days and diwali celebrations were a class apart. It was an amazing experience: the excitement of working on cot structures through the night just fuelled by hall spirit, night-outs, and rehearsals for choreo, dance, skit and a bang lot of things and the satisfaction of completing the work ( which often got completed just before the start of the function ). While our hall excelled in cot structures ( especially the one made by Y3 ), hall 3 always had edge on the skit side of the event. These events fuelled ( and I dearly hope that they will do the same in future for others ) our lives round the year throughout the four year time.
Going to MT early morning almost everyday with friends for the first tea harvest of the day; taking hall 2-hall 3-GH circuits on the walks at night intended mostly for seeing some good gals ( , I am sorry but this is true ) or standing on the hall roof in the evening or at night thinking about the day, all over again. What else do you say? Canteen, Ice ‘n’ Spice, wings, corridors, quad, LHC, lib, cc, labs, Audi? Rave, Lucky, thaggu ke laddu or bewafa kulfi? Those enlightening bulla sessions. Those sometimes sumptuous and heartily given but sometimes mean treats be it dussa treat, baap treat, birthday or treat out of pure vandalism. Those gems from the lingua franca : bakaiti, bakait, chaapu, maggu, telu, lassu, lassa, banda, bandi, maal ( ;D ), bhai, baap, maa : that tip-top-always-on-the-tip-of-the-tongue-sharp-frisky-funny and fiddle-de-Dee IITK lingo. Who can ever forget the GPL that used to be there on each and every special occasion of life? Kicks causing you to see stars in day and sun in night with the faithful hips aching and paining on every occasion of sitting for about four days after the GPL ‘ceremony’; then there was 10G. Ready to flatten you to potato wafers! The treats which were good to take ( or grab or mine out from the ‘bechara-treat-bakra’ ) but were worse to give away. So much for treat vandalism ( not to mention the GPL used to get the treat and the GPL that followed the treat ). Then there were the nightouts, the door banging ( those poor A mid doors might still be aching from my merciless banging them on several ‘auspicious’ occasions ), the GBMs ( which were more of an abusing session than informative ones ), hall 2-hall 3 rivalry, hall events…….the list goes on.
Mess food ( ) is a separate topic by itself and ‘beyond the scope of this article’, but I can not resist poking fun at it. So here goes : IITK taught me what to eat and what not to. This was taught through the ‘sumptuous’, ‘delicious’ and ‘appetizing’ mess food. During ragging a senior told me – an impressive statement taken from the Director’s orientation speech ( which I am told has not changed much ) – “ You walk in as a kid, you walk out as a man.” I took it seriously. And talking about the mess food – I mean THE MESS FOOD, I feel that for most people it is true that – “ You walk in as an elephant, you walk out as a walking stick.” But they never told me this. Thanks to MT and canteens we walked out better off compared to walking sticks. But one thing I would like to add – I never fell sick by eating mess food. I mean I never traveled the road less traveled on account of some food or stomach related problem.
Ah, as the HC has already been mentioned – I was fortunate not to be there except to meet some of my unfortunate friends. Rest is fine!
We were fortunate that in our first year the LAN fever had not spread so we had a lot of interaction with everyone and enjoyed our free time in quad or elsewhere rather than in front of screens. But then FTP sniffer came and finally the DC and we were washed away with movies and downloaded music but still the bonds made in first year always remained heavy over LAN ( that is, till the CD writing fever began ). Then too, watching movies together was fun and masti!!
What else? The usual remorse of having too less girls to talk to or to go on with. This was ( and is ) the topic of 75% bulla sessions in hall2-hall3 quads. But it gives me a laugh ( that causes my pants to slide off ) that guys who do not have the guts to talk rationally to themselves while standing in front of mirror or just in Schizophrenia ( psycho stuff ) talking about too less girls to talk to. More than that, they cursed those ‘fortunate’ guys who had the privilege as well as the GH residents. Personally, I always spoke a complete sentence WITHOUT honoring my batch mates from the fairer sex and I am proud of that ideal. However, I used to fake. Some sort of an ego, a fake ego. Ignoring girls and telling my friends that my kinda girl will walk in and talk to me first. So instead of me taking the usual koooooooooooo…l guy routine and talking to the girl first I waited ( or at least told so to my friends ). The reader can be sure that what I intended never happened. I don’t know why but it was this way and remained this way. Someone told me that IITK is the best place to fall in love where both sides will have techno stuff and balance-of-the-things thingy. However I was never able to complete a five finger count to count my friends from the fairer sex. The few with whom I was on talking terms ( they didn’t come on their own ) washed me away with ‘my brother’ syndrome. I would add that I am proud of the relationship which is now three rakhis strong.
WRAP UP :
In the last days spent here ( after the eighth endsem ) I felt a bit sad at the behaviour of my friends. Several people went back home unnoticed but those who were in the campus were busy, writing CDs. I mean I felt bad about forgetting about friends and friendship that in the depths of their memories under the fallen leaves of moments could otherwise have been cherished someday. When we have moments, we do not understand the importance of living them fully. A mere hug might have been a memento for lifetime so that may be the friends will not meet again but some days in the meetings of memories those forgotten moments might echo again. But no, that ‘Summer of 69’ is very important ( ? ) even when we know that it is better to live that summer with departing friends than to write it on a CD and engage our shelves with those damn disks : adding another pile of waste to the desk. Me and many of my friends left the campus craving for our CD writers and felt bad, but then ………just leave it.
Most of the part up, I would repeat that life here was a daily adventure or just zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz….The most wonderful thing about this place is that here you can’t zero in. I mean when you are awake, every moment you are doing something even though you might seem to be doing nothing. Hope you get my point. From the realm of LHC ( well may be , but this applies if you are awake there ), lab, lib ( same conditions as LHC ), cc to fooling around MT or climbing up the water tank near UNION Bank, lukkhebaazi in hall quad, wings or corridors or just watching the setting sun from the hall roof ; you are doing something, may be in the mind, but you are not and you can’t be idle. This leaves very little time for frustrations and sorrows and that is the way I would like the life would be.
I do expect some changes. At least I hope meeting people who can complete a sentence without ‘honoring’ my family more than the required; who have the sense of knocking the door before entering the room and who know when is the right time to knock at the door etc. etc. The rest, I hope, would be fine.
As I look back now, I see memories from the past, from my heart, coming back to life – a perfect homecoming. This institute might not remember me but I, I will remember the beautiful peacocks, the parks, the monkeys ( who attacked my room and ate all the ISABGOL along with leaving my room in complete wreckage ), the NCC drills, PE and lecture bunks, quizzes, midsems, endsems, zuk, dussa ,fukka, bhai, baap, maa, GPL, 10G, treats, lib, cc, late night discussions with roomie on current affairs, nightouts, bulla, quad musings, watching cricket in the TV room with a crowd to cause you to forget yourself…….haaaaaaaaaaaaaa..tired of this long sentence?? Here’s more…HEC, GYMKHANA, elections, clubs, projects, profs, Deepshikha, Unmaad, Josh, Umaang, Techkriti, Udgosh, Antaragni, hall day…………..the list goes on. Is there an end?? No. This place is the whole world packed in 1037 acre landscape and four to five years full of dreams…………………………just take a faithful nap.
Yaadein
Another poem…
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Waqt mein pichhe mude iska waqt nahi,
palchhin jo chhin gaye phir jeene ka waqt nahin.
Phir bhi waqt-bewaqt yaadein yaad aa jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Aao yaaron waqt se hum waqt chura lein,
yaadon ki zair-o-baa’ dil ko suna le.
Dil ke sangeet ki sargam ban jati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Tanha baithe guzre pal jab yaad aatein hain,
yaadon ki mehfil mein khud ko bhool jate hain.
Bhooli-bisari yaadein yaad aa jati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan mein kabhi kabhi aise pal aatein hain,
saaya, dhadkan, saanse sab begane ho jate hain.
Us aa’ saari yaadein Zau-e-raah ban jati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ke adhoorepan ko poora kar deti hain.
Yaad aakar yaadein dil ko adhoora kar deti hain.
Khaar-e-dil ban ban kar yaadein tadpaati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Pal pal guzre pal yaadein taaza kar jati hain,
yaad aakar kabhi kabhi aasayish de jaati hain.
Kabhi kabhi palakon ko nam kar jaati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Lab par bikhre hua gulon ki gulzar yaadein,
aain-e-roo par chhai hui tabassum yaadein,
Palakon ke panghat se bahati jati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Baaki baatein mit mit kar mitti ho jati hain,
shama bhi kabhi na kabhi madham ho jati hai,
Yaadein hi hain ki jo yaksaan, yaksaan rah jati hain,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
Jeevan ki aapa-dhaapi badti jati hai,
zindagi beetati hai; yaadein, yaadein ho jati hain.
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Meanings:
1. zair-0-baa’ : dheemi gahari aawaz
2. zau-e-raah : path pradarshak prakash
3. khaar-e-dil : dil ka kaanta
4. aasayish : khushi,aasara, saantvana
5. aain-e-roo : chehra
6. tabassum : hansi
7. Yaaksan : purvavat, pehle jaisa hi
Hizr
Another hindi poem..
Gaye sawan paani itna na tha,
phir bhi har lamha bheega raha.
Seelee deewaron par ubhare chehron mein,
tera chehra yaad aata raha.
Patton ne pedon se izazat li,
shab-e-firaq ka intazar raha.
Har kadam par do aah thi,
dil unhe sunta-sunata raha.
Rahil phir kadam sheen mein darz hua,
par rah se dil anjaan raha.
Saba ne aab pathar kiya,
dil lamha lamha pighalta raha.
Baharon ne aalam aabad kiya,
dil phir bhi veeran raha.
bahar darakht gulpash hua,
bheetar apne kharistan raha.
Samandar paani se na-paani hua,
par sahil sailab mein dooba raha.
Mana ki hawaon mein hararat thi,
Par umeed mein mahaul barfab raha.
Beeti raat sawan laut aaya,
tashna-labi ka saath raha.
Tu na aayee hamse milne,
hamein sukoon mein bhi iztiraab raha.
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Mayne :
1. shab-e-firaq : Judai ki raat.
2. rahil : raahgeer
3. sheen : barf
4. darakht : ped, taruvar
5. gulpash : phoolon ki baarish karne waale
6. kharistan : kaanton ka jungle
7. tashna-labi : pyaas
8. iztiraab : vyakulta
PRINCIPAL MADAM IS CALLING
I was then in 11th standard. This is the level when an Indian science student starts preparing for competitive exams. Well I and many others had taken the job and we used to skip school to study an extra bit ( might sound awkward but it did help ). I attended school when I was bored and wanted some fun ( and I felt bored quite often ) or when we had labs or when there were exams or quizzes. Do not get a wrong impression of the school. Most of us had been there for over eight years and were giving consistent results so over teachers had full faith on us and thus allowed this independence. However, I was not proud of this situation but this situation is common for lakhs of students who go for competitives.
The occasional presence policy had made me and my friends over mischievous. We wanted to get maximum fun from the school time. Also, there were girls to tease and impress and we got the time for it only at school. School girls are good looking you see, or I should say this and the college period that follows is the time when most of the girls look good ( that by the way was the definition of youth given by a famous Indian Urdu poet ). My policy to that was, make them laugh or do something that will make them think about me when they go home. I was greatly helped in this by the post that I held : I was the VICE HEAD BOY of school. In a way, I was responsible for the discipline in school but I myself did not have merest trace of discipline soyou can think of the way I feld my disciplinary responsibility. Dance was the punishment that I gave out to those who broke silly school rules. They enjoyed it and were thoroughly encouraged to ‘follow’ school rules.
vyarth nahin………
A hindi poem..
Vyarth nahin bhatakta hoon anjani raahon par,
aaj nahin koi chalta to kya?
kal pathik koi is path aayega,
mujhko jaane na jaane,
geet mere hi gaayega.
Vyarth nahin chalta hoon jaith ki dhoopon mein,
aaj nahin chah kisi ko to kya?
kal rahi koi chhaya ko aayega,
meri chhaya ki chhaya se,
khud chhaya woh paayega.
Vyarth nahin harta boondon se dharti ke taap ko,
aaj nahin koi pyaasa to kya?
kal rahil koi pyaasa aayega,
meri boondon ki boondon se,
apni pyaas bujhayega.
Vyarth nahin veeranon mein gharonde banata hoon,
aaj koi nahin rahe to kya?
kal kafila koi makam ko aayega,
meri hasti jane na jane,
basti yahin basayega.
Vyarth nahin jutata hoon pal mein varshon ki smritiyon ko,
aaj nahin koi yaad rakhe to kya?
kal yaadon ki mehfil mein kissa-go koi aayega,
naam se na hi sahi,
kisse mere sunayega.
Vyarth nahin in pannon par geet likhta jata hoon,
aaj nahin koi sur de to kya?
kal ssaz koi aisa aayega,
meri paati jaane na jaane,
geet mere hi gaayega.
BUMBLEBEE CONTO
Professor Maloo was the instructor of Linear Algebra segment of MTH 201 N course in spring 2005.
He used to make the statement ” All right, so all right ” several times in his lectures. Guys once tried to count the number but stopped in less than half an hour ( of a one hour lecture ) with a count over two hundred!
Triple H and Batista are wrestlers from WWE.
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so they said...
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