Category: Campus Life

The Book-Broker

He was new to the place; with hundreds of new faces around, he not only felt new, but also out of place. Still he braced himself for what was ahead in store. With each passing day, he became familiar with the new faces. Soon there would be someone to greet him, smile at him, and stop by to ask, ‘had lunch?’ ‘Do you have class now?’ ‘Nice shirt yaar’, ‘Want to have chai?’ Casual acquaintances do happen this way in a new place.

But still there were few people, who do not need such mere casual niceties. But there was something else; Some other people who took him to them. Kevin, The Great Dane Singer, Nagaraj, Swami, Oliver Twist, Range, Henry, Kalyani, Robert Langdon, Jamie Sullivan, Sparks, Jayakanthan, Harry Potter, Erma Bombeck.

And not to forget Alvin, the cute kid, who lost his family on a Christmas Eve. It was Alvin, who showed a different him to others. People by then knew that he was a story teller. And she loved to listen to his tales. She knew, he is different and all that mattered to him was the words and what they convey to world.

There was this guy and the first novel he brought for him. “The pleasant Interlude”; and from then it was their ritual- A book for every birthday.

Oh! Not to forget how these three met on a mid-night to be introduced as hard cotter potter-maniacs. Be it the mess, corridors, Stone benches, the front shop. They were never tired to carry a conversation of what would happen to Harry and Hogwarts after the death of the beloved Headmaster Dumbledore.

There were a few girls, who met him almost every evening/weekend to get/share/exchange/rob books from him. Also they loved to call him Krishna, for they believed he has a way with girls, but not just with words alone. Those evening spent in the stone benches and those never ending conversations at the girls hostel gate. Girls, it seems had to face a tough time with their infamous warden because of him, as how someone later testified.

Then came two Psycho Seniors. Remember Kevin, not just a problem child in the case of high school shooting, but someone he held close onto and someone who grew on him. She knew that behind this stupidity and Vainokki, rather Bada Jollu Party, there is a sensitized guy.

Not to forget the beautiful world of Malgudi that R K Narayan weaved with his words and imagination, which brought us together and also the hatred of you for poor Ginny, I have never seen anybody so much drooling for our Harry.

Oh! And then the senior and the sister, with whom he had real tough time, when it comes to make her read books, and had to throw up real emotional tantrums to make her read books. Someone who got him Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows on the first day and the last day of his life in Coimbatore.

Pray for me Brother, Gone with the Wind, My Days, and a Readers Digest Edition of A Walk to Remember were their last exchanges. Rather the meen curry and Kari meen at Neyyattinkara.

Have you ever sit on a public place reading a book? Well you would. But have you ever snatched a book from someone when they were deeply immersed in it? And then call your friend and show, “Hey Look, Nicholas sparks.” And still forget that there was a guy standing in front of you, mouth wide open and little intrigued. I know someone, who just got lost in North Carolina then.

A junior, who was introduced as a fellow Potterian and a co-Aquarian, someone who shared the equal madness and passion for books. Someone who made him gift her, Tuesdays with Morrie

And then someone else walks into his life, a junior to start with, and then turning out to be a precious little brother he always longed for. They grew together without books. I remember those Friday evenings when he went to see him off. Those old book stalls, where he leisurely spend an hour or two buying half of dozen of books, only to be snatched/robbed, when he is back to campus.

It rarely happens that he gets to read the book first. It was always made sure that the book is circulated among their reading circle; read by everyone and then promptly returned to him.

Such was the life of The Book Broker.

P.S. To all my Book-Lover friends from PSG… Love you folks…

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UoH elections: A Pre-view

There are two kinds of people in this world – idealists and practical people. Everybody else falls somewhere between these extremes. But if one should want for an educational institution to create more than just employable graduates; if one thinks that they should create future leaders of tomorrow who will be motivated and honest, one would then be probably branded as a hopeless idealist. And not without cause.

The power mongering sham that the Students’ Union elections 2009 in the University of Hyderabad became would disgust even the faintly idealistic at heart. What should have been a simple but powerful election of student representatives within a university became a thicket of controversy, a bellowing of self servicing political ideologies and an undisguised struggle for power which left many students questioning the point of it all.

The General Body Meeting (GBM) held on 20 August was a hungama with shouting, tantrums, a physical fight and the ultimate walk-out characteristic of our parliament. The philosophy is simple – either you shout and get yourself heard. If you can’t, don’t bother listening to the others as well. It’s survival of the loudest.

The GBM was but the beginning. People who are ‘the upholders of democracy in the campus’ did not disappoint the cynics with their expected behaviour. The days of nomination provided entertainment for all those who consider shouting threats and obscenities without consideration for age or gender but a general pastime. Rumours about cases of sexual harassment being filed against certain candidates started flying. Violence was also reported with one student being roughened up. Apart from this, certain other students wielding cameras and camcorders were questioned and stopped. The reasons behind such behaviour may seem justified to some, but the behaviour in itself is never so.

The day of the counting saw a huge amount of confusion with allegation of rigging, raised voices and slogans being thrown around. The fact that it took an unprecedented amount of security to maintain at least a facsimile of peace speaks for itself. The rude behaviour of students, not just against the members of their rival parties, but also the faculty members present was shocking but what is positively saddening is that such behaviour is not an isolated incident. It happens every year and hence the advice for only the thick-skinned to enter into politics.

The goings on of this election may fill up pages but the question that has to be asked is whether all that has happened is any different from what we all term as the corrupt politics and hopeless Indian scenario. We read news about this political scam or that political hungama but are the political scenarios in our intellectually ‘enlightened’ educational institutions any different? Idealistically speaking, if we hope to change the inescapable, dirt ridden politics of our country, the change needs to come from such places of learning. But sadly, university politics only serves to hold a mirror to national politics. It is viewed as a training ground for future politicians. But it kills any hope for a different set of leaders for tomorrow as the few people who may seriously try for change get bogged down by a system that goes around in loops.

In terms of politics, apart from the hardly existing idealists and the rampant opportunity seekers, a third group titled ‘I-don’t-care’ exists. Neither do they hold opinions about politics nor they do they feel it is important to hold them. They have given up like a seasoned cynic. A semblance of democracy does remain because they tell you that you have the right to vote, but when you do not have the right to contest for a post without fear or subscribing to any particular ideology (superficial or otherwise), the definition of democracy needs a re-look. This process of re-moulding of attitudes and behaviour needs to start with education. But the meandering words of hopeless idealists are often lost in silence.

By Deepti Nair

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P.S. Thanks to Deepti, My junior and a good friend for her article. Well the background of this article is University of Hyderabad’s Student’s Union elections-2009. If, to read more. Please Click here. And catch everyone up soon in their space. And this time. I’m serious folks… And more on this election by me and My another Juns Swati.

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Life @ Now.

Exams got over on 25th.. And I had been blissfully awake all night till 30th working on my Research Proposal.

Well had total fun, boozing after a short-while. I started boozing in late march and still looking forward for a last booze in the campus.

It is odd, staying put in a place and watching people leave, people who I met here and people who mattered to me more in the last two years.

And Now I’m here. Not knowing what to do, Haven’t booked my tickets still. Don’t know, should I stay here or leave.. but where?

Spoke to Mano after a long time, It’s been a year since he left the campus

Anu akka called me, it seems she hates coffee and that is what she gets all day. Life???

Many more Happy returns of the day Asish, My Alter Ego’s birthday today.

Have got two more major exams. That will determine what next?

Got a travel plan to kerala, Well Plans never works? Been a victim of plans often lately.

Just wanna hit at a place with no humans around.

And Kind of pissed off with things, lately????

It’s Okay Baru!!! Life….

And I need a Re-Invention now

Well, It seems Samby is back, Welcome back lil big bro!!!!

And I smell Jasmine, now… well Just a girl sat next to my system. I turned to look at her. Oh! Chechiyo???

And sorry people, will soon hit at your blogs too. It is just that I need some time to wake up from this Hibernation/sabbatical idling away …

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And then i wrote….

It was quite a week, idling away from life, giving much a thought on the unruined days of the future was me, a life to live, and a life-time of memories cherished. Walking back from the lake with a friend, hand in hand, totally drenched, listening to the whispering winds, under an unusually dark sky , kicks our feelings of the gone days. The waft of the wet earth in the breeze announces the arrival of the rain. 

Huge bouts of cloud, about to burst into a chattering , like the sweet nothings, both filled with nothing , yet something. A couple of kids teetering back, discussing over hot samosas, the cricket match played, reminds you of your bygone era of childhood.You suddenly miss all those came, went and taken for granted joys of life and the word Nostalgia creeps up painfully in your mind.

And then it rained.

Thick sheets of water drops whirling down the sky in a total gay abandon. A world in blurriness seeps pat me, a guy running past us, ignoring the call of the wild, “Who would boycott a rain, only a fool would”, we talk in a high… A girl racing past us, in her cycle reminds me of the usual skimpily clad heroine in Indian movies and a mischievous knowing smile erupts. “Baru……. I know, “

Frogs croak from the nearby pond, and the soothing sight of the wet bamboos , the distant roaring of a thunder and a streak of lightning crack up in the sky, the thoroughly drenched and shivering dog stands under the cycle shelter, with a deserted look, all I want is to take him in my hands and hug him.

Suddenly you remember all those days which had a weather like this and when all those things happened . All those rainy treks/fights/talks hit in the the screen of your mind, which you prefer to keep forgotten. You suddenly remember a long lost person. And then abruptly try to get over it. If you are sentimental enough you would sing to yourselves. Rains have it in them to bring the most uncomfortable memories in you.. “pain and the hurt of the past float up, out of you like the  unkept naughty secrets.”

As JB ma’m puts it, “Rains also bring out a riot of colorful memories.” You remember the time when you feel so relieved as Dad reaches home by the first streak of lightening and all of you enjoy the hot chai-bajji in the hall discussing neighbors, politics, sports, friends or planning a shopping or an outing. Until it stops raining and you put on your shoes and run wild outside with your friends and your dog follows you, and play outside in the rain till mom finds you out in the rain and starts shouting, the night when it rained the hardest and you thought of the poor guys in the street who sit huddled under a tarpaulin sheet,  the time when the tuitions stand canceled for the rains and you had all those three hours to kill with your friends before reaching home, the first time, you sat on the rooftop, enjoying the breeze in the solitary night and cry onto yourself. ,the time at hostel with friends on a rainy noon and how much you missed home. The cup of streaming hot coffee and a cozy corner of the window with a book, the first time in the rains ,you gave your jacket to show someone you care, a walk in the woods with her, holding her close to you and feeling every fiber of your being in this life….

Walking along my thoughts, i just couldn’t help notice this old couple i was following all this while. Walking in the rain, with the man holding the umbrella in his hand, yet drenched and the lady leaning onto him, with her head rested on his shoulder. I wished a prayer and turned my way…

How true is the saying, “The best thing to do when it rains is to let it rain….”

P.S. Incidentally I have completed fifty posts, which can be called a feat for a lazily lazy person like me. I wish my love and regards for the unconditional support and warmth from everyone of my blog-family and friends. 

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The God of small things

No!!! This is not a review of the book, or Am not gonna talk about anything related to the book, There is always a coming back for everything on earth and for everyone… And So for me, for someone who didn’t write anything for ages, It is something little that does the wonder in life,

For I believe that little things matter the most in life.. THE MOST… And I greatly adore/admire/love/respect Arundathi Roy, who christened her book, The God of Small things… Happyness like the sands of the sea is made up of numerous little things, Life is made up of such numerous beautiful little things which make the short while a worth while occasion.

Be it watching a sunset, a cozy conversation over a cup of chai or a little shared dinner, a late night coffee or spending an evening with friends … And when I say friends, It sounds a little tricky… for What is a friend and who is a friend differs a lot in every one’s perspective. Someone who makes you feel good, someone who brings you a smile for no reason, someone who makes you care, go for him/her. Nothing great can define a friend and a friendship … It is often the overstated or the understated…

An unexpected catch up in the canteen, leading to an idle no-sense/no need of a sense/all sense conversation, a small walk the talk/hey am leaving/ hey see the sun/

A path through the dried grass, thoroughly littered with shit and shattered glass, and the tall bushes and tress, a careful walk among the once lush greenery, leading to the lake, the dried patch of the earth, a small make-over place to sit, a amateur flutist trying his level best to play sound and a musical response from the cuckoo or a peacock…. Watching the blue hues turn to the orange hues as the clouds magically sweep the sun home, the birds flying home in the V direction, the frogs croaking in the lake, a duck paddling its way to and fro, a small bird searching for the fish, the buffaloes grazing lazily, three friends chatting over, one desperately trying to play flute, the other playing and singing songs and the third other ever innocently watching the stupid acts of the two guys… One thing leading to the other, a talk about Tamil movies, One animatedly talking about her love for Tamil movies, and how she likes the dance of the actor Vijay *Sigh*,, Hey indeed Vijay a great dancer, but actor….. oh My God……

Then a photo session to follow, Oh! how much I love to click people,,, The most beautiful moments captured in the camera and frozen in the mind and every picture tells a story, how the picture was taken, what happened before, during and after… Listening to the old songs, the English rapp, malayalam Naadan pattukal, the Hindu devotional songs, Suprabhatam, “The best way to,” ….. get up in the morning, completes your friend.. How true, The joy of getting up early in the morning to the sound of the magical muse…. Some things just happen… The accidental meeting, the unplanned act of sitting together and watching the sun-set…

An unexpected Gift(s), The most beautiful thing in life is surprise, and the next wonderful thing is being surrounded with people who surprises you… An Unexpected gift, that too a book, It indeed feels great when someone gifts, and then a long ago requested cloth bag…. I felt so good…. An unexpected phone call, when you were busy sharing dinner, what feel is that when you turn into kids and share food, in spite fighting over the fish pieces and still sharing leaving the little for the sure-late-comer….

And a phone call to talk/share/ramble on about the recent Jayakanthan book read.. The Characters Ganga/Henry/Ranga/Kalyani who teach you what life is, An author with a fatherly concern who teaches you the healthy view of life, a non-judgemental writer, the greatest humanist-ever, and therapeutic words brimming with love. Jayakanathan, You made me a human… And tons of Thanks to JB Ma’am for having introducing this legend in my life….

What more can be asked in life than love, people, books, music and certain other little which you love the most and that makes life the more meaning full… They make you passionate and compassionate enough. What more is needed in life than to live life with love? What more can life be? when you’re surrounded by people whom you love and people who love you?

What more can be asked in life, when you know that life is in the little moments of happyness and life is only when you live, As Anu akka says,”what more life can be, when you have learnt, how to romance life…”

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware – beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a “small one.”

P.S1.Well I Thank Nikhil for His , Honest Blogger Award that He bestowed upon this Humble Blog And his Cho cho cho chweet words for me

“the tamil payyan-most men aren even half as honest as he is in his space,the longest posts in ma blgroll which is quite superb though you tend to struggle for words thaks to the sheer magnitude of his posts,fun loving,humorous and sexy.. :p).”

P.S2. And if you have noticed I had changed the blog name from Musings to Musings of a true believer. People Who knows me well, Know well about this Incurable optimist too and I believe that I’m a true Believer, an Inspiration from Nicholas Sparks..

P.S3. And, Recently I had been asked by a good friend of mine, to actually confess (anything) in my blog, I remember telling this to a friend, followed by a roar of laughter. But I believe in this still …, “I want to read with my lady-love, A walk to Remember in my first night and cry.” It’s now left to you to imagine, what kind of a man would want to read in his Nuptial Night……

P.S4. This post is dedicated to all my friends who have been with/through me, eternally.

Much ado about nothing

Well. For people still who believe in the tag, “Unity In Diversity”. Please wake up, Things are pretty different, even indifferent. We had a week long rejuvenation of spirit, as how it is called. I somehow also happened to witness the dampening of spirits. It just happened to be that people in the event management least bother about the participants or the audience. Its always about how everything is organised in a larger scale, everything blown out of proportion. And our seniors tell this year’s Sukoon was quite good, well its upto others to imagine what it was eralier.

Even I had been waiting for this event, and also we’d the other event called Mediations. So we weren’t much infected with the Sukoon Spirit. Well no proper schedule for the events as planned went on. It happens, may be in and around ten to fifteen minutes, but certainly not hours together and also certain events were totally re-scheduled. Well there are the final year students who wanted to perform in any event, as its their last year, Well some had been in disappointments. The importance was all in how they hand-picked the chief guests, who were quite known as comical figure (well that’s an interesting read). People, I mean the participants were all taken for granted, who they think will hang around for hours, as they think, Participants has nothing else to do. I always had problems with this concept of being a chief guest. One who is always ahead of time and makes it late, just to show-off. I knew people, who when they were invited as chief guests, been on time and waited for the events to begin.

As being a chief guest twice in my life, I learnt two things which I would gladly share as a tip with my readers.
1) Always try to be there at the exact time or 10 to 15 minutes before to know well about the people who have invited you.
2) And don’t ever depend on food and transport. Be on your own.

I just wanted to convey this thing, That people have no tolerance for the musical or theatrical or cultural performance and least amount of respect for the talent and the performers. All they prefer is dance, down to earth (in all aspects) kind of dance, to make fun, mock the performers, jump in frenetic joy. Well Things are different now. Ultimately it is all about how wild they can conduct a carnival and how wild people can turn or how low people can stoop to have (oh! My God!) good time( Well that’s for another post). Guys Sukoon sucks!!!

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