Shruti Di

In college, a lot of seniors have these juniors who are like, well younger siblings to them, if not kids. You know, the ones you kind of dote upon,  the ones for whose achievements you feel way happier than you could possibly feel for your own, those kind of juniors. I have been pretty fortunate to have had seniors for whom I was such a junior and I have also had my share of such juniors. Given the placements semester and the speed at which it flew by, it had been a while though since I had caught up with them. When that finally happened, I learnt, within a span of four hours that one of them was in a serious relationship while a couple of others had started working out at the gym, seriously enough to wake up early on Sunday mornings. Well, suddenly felt kind of old and I felt this kids are growing up kind of feeling sweep over me. To top it all, I mentioned it to those juniors as well as to a couple of friends, only to hear that they were not surprised by my reaction and had often seen related flashes in me previously (that doesnt mean I'm entertaining any aunty jokes :-| ). 

When I told my mom of the same, she told me that I had forever been a Shruti Di. That was the name coined for me by most people I knew in the officers' circle. I suppose Shreyas and Tanmay would be the ones who ought to shoulder most of the blame, given they called me Di despite being just few months younger. Of course, then, there was my sister Surabhi, Shreyas' sister and my cousin Sukriti,  and Tanmay's sister, Soumya, who is pretty much like family, considering our parents have known each other for, like, ever. Given the amount of time the six of us spent together, owing to the fact that our three families  practically constituted one unit,  the infinite mehfils (bhopali equivalent of the insti fart sessions), movies, road trips and the like,  can possibly explain that turning into an intrinsically programmed Shruti Di  was, but, natural (that doesn't indicate any tolerance for Di jokes either).

Well, I realize I can't possibly feel complete without feeling that way. Life's simple little things :).

Save Our Tigers

Are we really going to be the nation that would have hunted its own national animal to extinction? Aircel together with WWF has launched a Save Our Tigers campaign hoping to mobilize public opinion in support of the big cat. While public opinion has served as a remarkable means of pressurizing the authorities to ensure justice in past instances, will it be sufficient in this particular case? Is it possible to generate a voice loud enough such that the government is forced to act? And with numbers dwindling at a rate as this, will their action be in time to undo what years of recklessness and greed have done? Having grown up mouthing Suhaib Ilyasi's Remember, together we can, and we will, make a difference, why am I afraid that it might be too late for together now? Why do I have a feeling that I wont be taking my kids to Kanha National Park the way my parents used to take me? That I would have to make do with the city zoo or worse, with documentaries on National Geographic to tell them what this part of their heritage was like. While here I am, worrying if my future kids would get to see what a tiger really looked like, what about the tiger kid whose mother doesn't come back home?

Vampire-struck

Before I begin, I must admit that like most high school and college girls around the globe, I am completely and irrevocably in love with vampires. In fact, I often have a tough time deciding which among Edward Cullen, Stefan Salvatore and Damon Salvatore should be ranked higher on the hotness scale. Most of my guy friends have adopted a weird habit of cursing all the abovementioned characters. The grapevine says men around the globe are baffled and at a complete loss to fathom the bizarre attraction these undead lethal creatures hold to girls around. They have come up with various hilarious theories for the same including one suggesting that women love vampires because the vampires are perfect depictions of gay guys. Preposterous, right? Guess its time to get a girl's perspective.

The fact that most of these fictitious vampires are described as being nothing short of Greek Gods makes up only the tip of the iceberg. They are also described as having these superhero characteristics, the mind reading,  all the ultimate macho qualities, and top it all with extra dollops of sensitivity..and what do you get..its the perfect guy. Almost all high school movies have shown girls falling for the football team captains. The strong athletic vampires are no different from the typical high school jock who dates the prom queen and is every girl's dream hunk. With a difference, our new hero is empathetic and understanding, he listens, he shares, he even weeps. Be it as Edward or as one of the Salvatore brothers, he would go to any lengths to protect the love of his life, even if it involves putting himself in danger. Come on, which girl wouldn't fall for such a guy. His described lifestyle choice makes him shine out as a good guy, who makes a conscious decision not to be a monster, despite what nature has bestowed upon him, unlike most guys who use  I am a guy, nature made me so as an excuse to get out of any and every thing girls want to do. Of course, we are bedazzled by him. And honestly, which girl has ever come across a guy who would pull back from a girls embrace because he doesn't want to hurt her. Of course, we swoon at him. Add to that the classic allure of the ultimate forbidden romance, he becomes totally irresistible. If only he were real. Call me vampire-struck, you bet!

Two Choices

Ever wondered if human beings are intrinsically good or bad, rather would they, more often that not, think of their own gain as opposed to someone else's happiness. Paulo Coelho tried exploring this baffling question in his book, The Devil and Miss Prym. And most of us do assume that the answer to the above mentioned questions would be that human beings are rational, marginal thinkers who think of their gains before anything else. What comprises that gain is of course, debatable. Came across the following story and I believe it most certainly deserves to be shared:

What would you do?....you make the choice. Don't look for a punch line, there isn't one. Read it anyway. My question is: Would you have made the same choice?

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question: 'When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does, is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?'

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. 'I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.' Then he told the following story:

Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, 'Do you think they'll let me play?' I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecting much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, 'We're losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.'

Shay struggled over to the team's bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay's team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn't even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay's life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game. Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman's head, out of reach of all team mates.

Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, 'Shay, run to first! Run to first!' Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Everyone yelled, 'Run to second, run to second!' Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base. By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball . the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher's intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman's head.

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, 'Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay'

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, 'Run to third! Shay, run to third!' As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, 'Shay, run home! Run home!' Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team. 'That day', said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, 'the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world'.

Shay didn't make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the 'natural order of things.' So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice: Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

I remember back in the eighth or ninth grade, Club HP used to air a much loved advertisement about how a simple smile from one of their petrol bunk attendants was transferred from person to person, leaving each one a little happier, no matter how sticky a situation they may be in. Be it Munnabhai's jadoo ki jhappi or Eloise's Christmas joys, we all root for the angelic do-gooders who do nothing superhuman except spreading warmth around them. Then why is it that we choose not to try and incorporate a little of that in our own lives. Have we, in all our progress and development and advancement, forgotten what it was like to be human after all?

The Vampirism Test

Published in the leisure section of a Bhopal-based newspaper:

You might be a vampire if:

• You have a strong desire for blood.
• You have a nameless craving that can never be fulfilled.
• You can go without food or sleep for an unusual amount of time.
  
• People find you interesting at first, then begin to avoid you.
• Even when surrounded by others, you always feel alone.
• You tend to be a night person by nature.
• You have had a strong interest in vampires.
• Sex tends to leave you feeling revitalized and full of energy.
• You are very sensitive to sensory extremes.
• You believe in reincarnations and have had past life visions.
• Your relationships tend to be passionate and intense.
• You look younger than you actually are.
• You can see and/or read auras.
• Animals tend to get along well with you.
• When you will things to happen, they usually do.

I checked on 14 out of 15 traits. Whats your score?

Credits: Poster: Sirisha

Ek Duje Ke Vaaste: Why Good Girls and Nice Guys Are Never Together

Came across the following piece:

 Nice girls who will always remain 'a good friend'. Nice girls who are 'just one of the guys'. Nice girls who get punched on the arm (because they're just one of the guys), but never get kissed on the cheek. Or anywhere else.
This is for the women who talk of women's lib but are secretly too shy to actually ask a guy out. And who must haplessly watch him being asked out by a girl, who's I.Q. is about as high as her neckline (which, in case you missed the point, usually isn't too high). This is also for those girls who can never summon up the courage to tell a guy, that they think he's the best thing since sliced bread. And who will continue to think that while the guy in question flirts shamelessly with them in a half-assed attempt at making a completely different girl jealous. This is in honour of girls who give roses on Rose Day, but never get one back in return. The ones who have to resort to dropping hints in order to get asked out but, (since men are men and wouldn't take a hint unless it showed up naked on their doorstep bearing apple pie) who never get asked out anyway. This is in salutation to the girls who prefer playing hard to get, and who wonder why all the nice guys are dating women who play not-hard-to-get-at-all. This one is for the girls who've been repeatedly told that they're smart and cute and desirable – just not by the guys they actually care for. This is a voice for women who appreciate that under the macho-man-randy-savage testosterone drive, most guys are not too bad, as friends or as anything else, and who don't honestly want to be put on a pedestal and be worshipped for thinking so.
This is a tribute to girls who never have doors held out for them, never have chairs pulled for them, and never complain about it. This is for women who'd happily split the bill with a friend, boyfriend, husband if only they'd had one. And if only he'd let them. This is in defence of women who give tentative hugs out of the fear that they might send the 'wrong signals', who never drink too much at parties so they'd never have to be 'cared for' and who never, ever misbehave. And this is also for the girls who still stay friends with girls who openly flirt with their boyfriends, but who'd never dream of stealing their best friend's boyfriend, even if he's their intellectual soulmate. Because they're nice girls and nice girls don't do that sort of thing.
What nice girls do is get stood up, ditched and taken for granted. Nice girls get to be the friendly ear, someone to crib about ex-girlfriends, present girlfriends and women in general. Nice girls get to be doormats, someone whose house you can use to throw a surprise party for your girlfriend, and who's left to clean up after you go to drop your girlfriend home. Nice girls get to be someone you kiss when you're too drunk to notice and someone who'll accept your profuse apologies the next morning. Nice girls get to grow up believing the Cinderella story, the Ugly Duckling story and all the stories their boyfriends tell them about why they're getting calls from ex-girlfriends in the middle of the night.
This, dear nice girls, is for every time a guy told you that "any guy would be lucky to have you" and you wished he's stop saying that considering he wasn't doing the having bit himself. This is also for all the times you've watched your crush ogle at women whose idea of socializing involves high-pitched giggles and cleavage-baring antics. This is for all the hours of knock-knock jokes, breast jokes, beer jokes, women jokes, feminist jokes and dead baby jokes, of being a 'sport', being a 'pal', being the only one in the group not salivating over the Playmate of the Month, or not having any kind of Mortal Kombat score to discuss. This is for every time you wanted to but couldn't stop being sensible, for every fun thing you didn't do because it seemed 'inappropriate', every guy you pined for because he was, in some odd way or other, "off limits". This is for every time you wondered what the hell was wrong with you, if you set off an allergic reaction in men and if that wasn't the case then why all the men in the world have to have such a lousy taste in women.
The worst part of this story, girls, is that eventually most men look out for someone they can take home to mommy. Oh they'll shake their heads and laugh it off if you ever suggest it, but deep down that's what they really want. Eventually. While they're secretly fantasizing about lingerie models, the only one they'll really consider marriage material is the girl-next-door variety. Someone who needn't exactly be a chef extraordinaire, Salma Hayek's twin or winner of the Nobel Prize for Astrophysics. But also someone who won't embarrass the shite out of them by quaffing beer, flirting with their cousins at family get-togethers or insisting on dirty dancing with them in public. In other words, a 'nice' girl. And till men in general are hit by the proverbial bolt of lightning that, by god, she's the one I've always been looking for, your destiny is to live down the injustice, the humiliation, the heartache and the suffering. Go ahead, just do what you do best. Be nice.

And this one too:

Ode to the Nice Guys
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Makes one wonder which one is true ;). And if they both are. the dude in the picture above is definitely not doing his job well :P.

When Butchers perform Surgeries and Nanotechnologists dole out Justice

With the placement season upon us, the campus has been witnessing the usual pre-placement talks by several firms who wish to recruit purely for the reason of a certified intelligence level that has been rated by an examination noted for its rejection rate. However, being a believer in Howard Gartner's Theory of Multiple Intelligences, it is quite natural to wonder about the possible consequences of a mismatch.

The consequences might not be that devastating upon hiring engineers to perform financial services (except , probably, an unhealthy dependence on mathematical models that has proven to be fatal in the past). However, imagine a situation where for the mere sake of fulfilling a legal requirement, an on-paper committee is created to handle legal mishaps in, say, an educational institution. While in corporate organizations, it is the Human Resources department that handles such issues, in some consultation with people possessing legal knowledge, academic institutes have been content with asking professors to fill in for such roles. After all, shouldn't they be allowed to enjoy the benefits of the lack of a proper corporate governance structure.

Imagine a situation where an electrical engineering academician is asked to tackle harassment complaints. Not really their fault that human behaviors don't follow the equations that our bright minds are used to. True ,they might have degrees to their credit and have patents and papers published, but often, they have zero knowledge of  psychology, let alone criminal behavior or jurisprudence. Their methods of handling cases that come their way would make even first year law students roll around on the floor laughing. Researching methods on fabricating semiconductor devices does not teach you to validate evidences or cross question testimonies. People should stick to what they know. Not try to perform duties they know naught about. Deciding whether a punitive or preventive action has to be taken can only be done by understanding the case profile and the profile of the accused, something which cant be aided through IEEE.  I mean, come on, I have a friend who has  basic medical knowledge, despite her automotive engineering education, she can even tell you the required medication in case of common illnesses, but she doesn't go about performing surgical oncology procedures. Its an even bigger mess when the persons handling the wrong job, by virtue of being experts at their actual job, have a pretty high opinion of their intellect, which causes them to accept what they see and renders them incapable of accepting that there can be more to a situation than is meeting the eye. What they don't understand is that their clumsiness coupled with apathy can harm a  life, damage a life, wreck a life, or even take a life. When they don't have the skill, they most certainly should not have the right to mess around with people's lives. Because while those lives involved might mean nothing to our high-bred academicians, they do to others.