Saturday 30 November 2013

The Dog and the Shoe-Box.

Walked through the empty street; watching the moon consume the darkness,
Exams done, a whole December planned ahead of me.
The winter wind blowing the hair off my shoulders , the cold running down my spine,
I hold up my coat tight, with an unusual delight,
Waiting for my favourite season to set in; the frozen treat of Delhi.

As I went on, ignorant of what lay ahead, a yelp from my end did shake the evening's calm;
The big brown creature,caught trembling with fear,
"It's just a Dog," I told myself; though the same line had me sweating and unnerved
"Just stroll away and it won't hurt you" , I followed my voice and walked askew,
Pulling my coat over as the temperature seemed to drop lower.

Just as I turned away with a soundless sigh, I heard a moan rising in the air,
I stopped at once to face what I had left behind;
Took a few steps closer to get a look so clear; sceptical and  yet too sure,
It is not what I saw but what I felt that matters
As I start to share what I witnessed, I must say Fate is not too Kind.

The big brown creature strolling around, watched the moonlight just like any of us did,
He walked a few steps forward and back again,
And shook himself up then uncurled his paws, moaning still, head held low.
Then all at once he pulled a crushed box; a left-over perhaps, no use to a human;
Curled himself back ,trying to fit in, he howled in pain.

Shivers ran through my skin and bones ; No! it was not the cold,
'The poor thing is cold,' is what struck me that moment;
It first tried its paws and then his face a little slower, but all in vain,
Its body was too big for a crumpled shoe box
It moaned once more as a gust of wind blew by, and carried the box to the other end.

My heart ached so bad, what could I do, I got to help out?
I looked around and found my last resort,
A dark, woollen, thrown-away cloth , only too perfect for the deed,
I fought my phobia all at once and picked the cloth , marching right to the spot,
The moment it saw me , it bounced up to retort.

I backed off; my knees giving way, my heart pounding hard,
"I am just trying to help" is what I said out loud,
The vulnerable eyes, now replaced by powerful ferocity,
Feeling strangely guilty for a mistake that I could not comprehend,
watching him stand in defence, his eyes so proud.

"You are human. You don't like us. You are selfish and mean."
Were the inarticulate words that I could pull out,
I looked at my denim and thick woollen coat, suddenly aware of my own secure living,
It stood there still, looking me in my eyes, I took a few more steps back,
It stood there still, staring at me with doubt.

Another gush of cold wind was enough to shrink it up once more,
I felt ashamed as I involuntarily pulled my coat closer,
It closed its eyes and this time it opened them, soft and calm; so hollowed and deep,
And in those eyes I now saw the helpless reflection of its entire kind.
"Please don't hurt me. You see, I am yet not doing quite  better."

With the third gush of wind I felt my heart freeze down, as he moaned and moaned,
Cursing the city's winters for the first time,
Again with a jerk he walked to the end, pulling the little shoe-box, it's security blanket for the night.
He brought it back to the spot, where the street light shone dim, hoping to get some heat,
Settling with his paws and his tail inside, with a gentle whine.

"I am sorry" I heard my voice speak up, as I knew it was time to leave,
I took the first turn and then started to pace up,
It was time for me now to hang my head low, for I could do nothing to help the poor fellow,
How many of them are found suffering the cold? How many of these stories remain untold?
I wondered on my way back, running down the sub.

Walked through the empty street; watching the moon consume the darkness,
Exams done, but could no longer care of the December planned ahead of me.
How many of them will survive the month; we need to do something before it is too late.
You heard it all my folks, the tale of the Dog and the Shoe Box.
Have you been in my place before? Do you have any suggestions? Please share your story.










Thursday 3 October 2013

It is just so MATHastic!

MATH: The subject that starts out with one, two, three, goes on to a,b,c and ends up in alpha, beta, gamma. (Don't Google it. This is my personal definition after studying mathematics for almost sixteen years now. )

You hate Math? I am not surprised. About seventy percent of my batch does. When asked why, there is not one person who is able to justify it with a valid reason besides that of having flunked too many times or having been chided all through their childhood for lacking "calculative skills".
I remember when I was in pre-school and was first introduced to numbers I had the wildest questions in my mind.
"Ma'am! Why is one written as 1?"
"Ma'am! Why does eight come after seven and not before?"
"Ma'am! When I turn ten hundred and forty-four years, how will I write it in this tiny box here?"
My teacher, vexed by my continuous questions, struggled hard to conceal her anger. She would glare at me and grind her teeth while I stood there, under the impression that one day she will answer all my questions. Well, she obviously din't. I still remember how she had walked up to me one day after class to strike a deal that if I stop asking her "weird" questions in class she would give me a bar of 'Dairy Milk' . My reply: "Ma'am what is weird?"
"YOU!"
Incidentally in my standard seven, I took up the same topic for a class project to find my answers to the first two questions (by then I quite clearly understood that I need not worry about the third one.) The concept is indeed very interesting and for anyone who wants to read up on it; here it goes: http://message.snopes.com/showthread.php?t=49183.
There might be a better and more logical explanation to it but hey! I was in seventh grade and I was quite happy with the answer!
I love Math! (Please keep reading)
We all were told in school that a person cannot survive in this world without mathematical skills. I am not going to check the veracity of that statement because that is not why I love the subject. My quest of the so called "journey into mathematics" started when I decided to find out why others hate it. That is when I realised that MOST people who hate Math develop the aversion not because of the fear of exam or fear of the teacher in school (who for some reason is always found with a long-sized wooden ruler in the hand). The abhorrence for Math arises out of the fear of NUMBERS (and operations) to start with and on a higher scale, fear of embarrassment resulting out of simple miscalculations in public. For example; if a parent or a teacher asks a twelve year old to compute seven into six mentally and she answers it wrong, she will be scorned at for not having learnt her tables properly or being "poor" in Mathematics. And God forbid , if you are a Tambram like me, you are expected to be born with high calculative skills and will be disparaged and looked down upon as though the entire pride of your caste depends on "seven into six equals forty two".
When such importance is given to a subject and a higher (negative) importance when one gets it wrong, the majority of the population is bound to fear it.
One way to fight this fear will be to NOT make a big deal out of it. It is OKAY to goof up. All of us come out of the exam hall and say: "Darn! I made a silly mistake." It is important to know that making silly mistakes does not make YOU silly.
Getting back to the topic in hand, it is a common notion of many math lovers to say 'Math is Fun' but I say "Math is Funny!"
First we have Natural numbers. That's simple.
Then we have whole numbers. That's great! Zero is a very useful number.
Then we have integers. Negatives! Don't like them, but okay.
Then we have Rational numbers. Wait! Were't we just done ?
Then we have Irrational numbers. Irr what?
Then we have Real numbers ! OKAY! Got it !
Then we have Complex numbers! Thank you for the apt nomenclature.

The FUNNIEST of them all is when we are introduced to "Abstract Algebra" or "Boolean Algebra" in higher Mathematics. The question in my paper: Prove that 0.a=0.... How? No. My question, WHY?
Then we were introduced to Graph theory where we were asked to calculate how many chipmunks will a mommy chipmunk give birth to (with given, non-mathematical, conditions)? I was wondering for the first few hours whether I was sitting in the wrong classroom .
Currently we are diving into the world of ANALYSIS! It is rightly said that once you go deeper into a subject you will find that there is no connection between what you started with and what you are presently doing. I READ MATH. The only place where numbers appear is in the serial number column.
So here we are. After mastering all the necessary skills required for all of the above and acing the papers , I sit for an interview and this is what they ask me: "What is zero point zero one raised to the power of two hundred?" For the first time in my life my marks looked quite redundant and I did not know whether to laugh or cry. Sitting in that board room all I could think of  is all those friends of mine, back in school and college who loathed the subject and cribbed about it every single time. I walked back home more amused than usual and looked it up. Even Google took a few milliseconds more than it usually does (Well, I may add!).
So in sum, we have lovers of Mathematics on the right hand side (RHS) and haters of Mathematics on the left hand side (LHS). No matter which side you belong to there will be a time in your life when you feel like you know nothing and run hunting for your calculator when asked to compute basic arithmetic operations. So why fret? Why give it the status of "the most terrifying subject" when all you are , or rather both sides of the table are expected to do by the end of the day is tap on the calculator. We can say, in this case;
 LHS=RHS.
Hence Proved.


Saturday 14 September 2013

Panacea for Pressure

"Oh! My life is entering a crisis situation. It is now time for me to start taking stress" , says no individual.
What is the first thing that we hear when we tell someone that we are under stress or in some kind of a "helpless" situation? "Been there, Done that!" , "It is a rough phase which shall soon pass" and the worst one : "You will get used to it!"
I had a friend in school who had the tendency to fall into trouble more often than one would expect. I wish I had gotten the opportunity to know her better since her mind is something that has always intrigued me. She was ever late to school, never did her homework and needless to say, she was in the bad books of all her teachers. One day I tried to strike an open conversation with her to see if I could give her some kind of assistance since our board exams were fast approaching. I walked towards her with a mind to give her a lecture on how she needs to get serious with her life and needs to set a definite path  and goals. That evening I stepped out of my school walls realizing that I needed more help than her. This is the slightly fictionalised version of the conversation we had:
"You haven't touched your books yet! You have been consistently scoring below .. much below average in the term papers. I am worried for you."
"But why?"
"Because no university in this planet will take you in with these marks."
"That's not true."
"Okay I meant.. No TOP , Good University."
"So?"
"So... Don't you want to get into a good place?"
"And then do what? Get a nice job, earn a package of thirty lakhs by the age of twenty-five, then get married, have children and when they turn out to be like how I am today, tell them the same thing that you are telling me now? No. I don't want to get into a good place. "
"Then how do you plan to lead your life?"
"I plan to LEAD my life. That is exactly what I want to do. I plan to do things MY way and most importantly, do the things that I want to do and not what I am expected to do. "
"Alright. So you have no plans for your life?"
"Yes I do."
"And that is?"
"I plan to be happy and content in every step of my life so that if things don't work out the way I expect them to, I still have a reason to be happy."
And she was right. We had four weeks for our board exams when she first attempted to open her books. She took no coaching or assistance whatsoever and was the only one laughing and giggling on the day our exams commenced. When our results were declared, she walked out with an eighty two point two percent while I was sitting with a ninety three percent , head hanging low having all my "goals" and so called " definite path" dissolved into nothing and as she had rightly pointed out , having NO reason to be happy about. I had slogged for the whole of two years with nothing but ninety seven percent in my mind and was now forced to toss the value for my sedulous efforts into the dustbin in less than two minutes. Then when I met her and smiled a congratulations, she said this:
"Don't worry Sandhya. You will do well for yourself, just like I did today. You will find a reason to be happy in the midst of all the battle you fight everyday. The battle of wanting to be the BEST."

She would have been an extreme case to quote example of. However, she taught me something vital which is well embedded in my brain now. How many of us enjoy the process of  achieving our goals? How many of us do our work WITHOUT thinking about how our end result would be. It is but natural to worry about how things will turn out but what I learnt in these three years is that it is what we learn during the process that is more important than what we get after the process. We are all going to be successful some day. How? This is how:
Success is a subjective term. Each person defines it in their own way. The best part about this word is that it can be used in an extremely flexible manner. Today if I score eighty percent in my math exam , I know I din't do too well but others don't. I need not explain where I went wrong to anyone or make excuses as to how this term the paper turned out to be relatively harder (while in reality it was the simplest paper ever). I just need to be happy and, TRUST me, no one will ask me a question after that. According to them I have been successful.
Moreover a person can keep redefining her perception of success by redefining her goals based on experimentation to find out what she thinks is achievable in the given circumstances and finally reach a point where she can say she is successful.
There is another thing that I have come to understand in these three years (with my small attempts at experimentation). Goals and Dreams are two different concepts and they cannot be used interchangeably. Goals are where you want to head to. Dreams are where you are already heading to, without your knowledge. It was my goal to get a ninety seven percent in my boards (which din't happen). It was my dream to get into one of the top colleges of the country (which did). Goals will lead into pressure ; social, parental and self. Dreams will lead into joy and hope. They will give you the driving force to achieve your goals. The person taking the least pressure in this world will be the one who has created the perfect synergy between his dreams and his goal. His needs and his wants And most importantly understood what according to him is failure and success.
Last week I had the two most life-determining (not really) events of my life.
A life-determining interview.
A life-determining exam.
I goofed up both. (And I am not the kind of person who goofs up things easily.) The best part? I am still here. Siting in the same room as I was a week back. Talking to the same set of friends as I used to a week back. Living the same life as I did a week back. So what has changed? Nothing. Probably things would have been different if I HAD done well. Different does not mean better. One can never tell. But now I am here, writing this article, smiling to myself, remembering my friend. Things did not end up the way I had expected them to. But I am happy. The things I learnt in the past few weeks are priceless; something I would have never learnt if I hadn't crossed this "phase", as people like to put it.
This is for all my friends who are giving their Boards, CAT, Placement interviews or any other competitive examinations. Each and every one of you are unique in your own way. Please do not let any of this determine where you stand in the list of success. No matter what happens today, the bigger picture is bound to be a beautiful one.  Believe in that and chase your dreams, restructure your goals, and yes, Be Happy. Nothing is worth so much pressure.

Thursday 22 August 2013

The Name Game

Have you ever wondered as to how you got your name ? Most of us are told about it by our parents when we enter school while some of us don't care to know! Trust me, I was one among the latter cause I never found anything special about my name. It has two syllables and mean "evening" unlike something like "intelligent", "beautiful" or "lovable". I remember asking my mom (as a child , of course) as to why I was not named "Telula" or "Shelly".  She looked at me bewildered and simply said:" They are not Indian". Then after a few days I went back to her and this time I put forth three Indian names; Kritika, Sakshi and Ananya (who happened to be the "superest" girls in my batch I spoke about in my previous post). She gave me a soft knowing smile and simply said : " Because they are not YOU."
I was too young to follow that statement back then. I just shrugged my shoulders and walked away , something I usually did when my parents started to talk Greek and Latin.Later I realised what exactly was the crux of what she wanted to convey: It's not the person's name that defines her (or him) but the person who defines the name. If you read it twice and understand the statement it makes absolute sense and has a nice moral and philosophical connotation to it. However, I know that a number of people would disagree to it.
Recently,in college I was speaking to a group of my friends in the corridor. That's when another student from a different batch joined in to greet me. I began the formal procedure of introducing my fellow mates to the new entrant. While I pointed out at the last one in my group as Raveena, she raised her eyebrows and exclaimed "Oooo.. Raveena Tandon?" referring to an eminent Bollywood star, and burst into a fit of laughter. My friend just shrugged and smiled weakly. She later told us, how much she has started to abhor her name since her entire school life went in smiling back for the hackneyed joke that was repeatedly cracked by her peers. Now here, this girl is repeatedly being associated with the name that has derived its identity through someone else. How cool is that? Let me answer it. It's not and you don't want that happening to you!
Talking of names and Identities , we cannot miss out on the nicknames that one is given in all phases of life. Starting from home to junior school, middle-school, high school , university, workplace and so on , if you look back you will realise that there is practically an entire collection of names that were once associated with you. I personally have lost count of the different kinds of nick-names that were given to me : Sandu, Guddu,San, Sans, Chutki , Bubli , Baby , Pikachu (no comments) , Sriram and Sandy being the most common of all. Nick-names are given to evolve a private, convivial space between you that person. It is given out of fondness and affection. It carries with itself a sense of attachment. Am I right? Nope, there will still be people who would disagree with me.
My another friend from college, Nilofer , happened to share her experience with me this evening. A name that was so well thought of, Nilofer- The one with blue or beautiful eyes (and quite apt for her, I must say), was conveniently altered by her school mates to just the second syllable. Lofer , a common term used for road-side roughs, has become so much a part of her daily hearing that now she automatically responds to the call , without any show of irritation or annoyance. I am not going to be a moralistic preacher and say what they did was wrong, since I have had my own share of fun changing mahiya to mafia and Kiron to Moron. However, I can sympathise with her; and in many ways empathise too.
Well now this is the Name Game as I would like to put it. If you are not happy with your name , as was my case as a child, look around and you will know that you are in a much better position than many others. Despite the pre-formed identity and the unreasonable alterations made to your name, in some way or the other you still tend to define it. I will not be able to accept Raveena or Nilofer under any other names now. Because that is what they have done, provide a meaning to their names ; something so unique that each time anyone utters their names in their absence, their closest friends can't help but think of them and ONLY them.
And that is what matters, won't you agree?

Wednesday 21 August 2013

Pause Please?

"I am in a hurry! May I catch up with you later?"
Why ask when you are actually not giving me a choice? What if I said no? What if I said  "You can't hang up" ?
When I was six, my best friend came over to my place a day prior to friendship day. That was when we were introduced to the concept of friendship bands. The one who has received the maximum number of friendship bands in school would be called the "Most Superest girl" . Hearts were broken on the so called judgement day, tears were shed by the people who could not live up to the prestigious title. My best friend just walked up to me and said this:
 "This one is for you. There maybe many who may tie you this tomorrow. But I want to give you one today. Cause even if you win the title, I want you to remember that it was ME who gave you the first one. I want you to remember me , forever. " 
Even in the age of six when we did not know much about emotions, sentiments and true friendship, those words did not fail to touch me; even more since I was moving out of the city , the following month, forever. It has been almost fifteen years since that day and I have moved from city to city, school to school, but am still in touch with her. This was possible cause not once did she ask me whether she could "catch me later".

Why is it important to pause? Well this is why. Most of our life is categorized into two time-tables. The one that we create (and seldom follow) and the one that we are forced into. Hence we start our day's engine with the first task in our list and keep moving at an accelerating speed, our capacity to work increasing arithmetically  while our work load increasing geometrically. One fine day the engine runs out of energy supply and we collapse . "My Life is  Ruined!" . Now if we take a few steps back in time and see where we went wrong, we will have no one but ourselves to blame. The consequences of an over-worked brain can leave its scars not just in one's academic performance or career, but also in one's relationships and health! 

This is when the question arises; how does one pause? If I am to answer this, I would say that pausing is anything that is done away from your time-table. Pausing is picking up the phone and speaking to a friend you have not caught up with for a long time now. Pausing is watching cartoons for a while instead of the daily sitcoms and probably laugh at how you could be so adorably silly to like them as a child. Pausing is rummaging the old photo albums for  those embarrassing pictures of you or just simply smiling back as your childhood smiles back at you. Pausing is cleaning your cupboard (trust me it works) and finding those old forgotten things that you had once held close to your heart. Pausing is simply the simplest task of all; standing in your balcony, giving yourself the credit for having grown into this awesome person you are today and feeling alive.

So next time your  friend calls up try asking yourself if you really need to hang up or is this call a reminder for you to pause. Because indeed it is things like these that last forever.

The Stranger

She walked up to the girl who was holding a marigold by the school garden. "May I?" she smiled with just her eyes, her lips seale...