Technopreneur 2009 Teaser

Ripples '09

January 8,9 and 10th : These days were among the first few in my college during which I felt a vibe of uncontrolled, pulsating energy flowing through the halls. Our college arts festival, named "Ripples", kicked off on the 8th of January. Amid all the furore over the results and the controversies and allegations over the wisdom and impartiality of the judges, I started to understand why so many had recommended this college to me!

With the college being divided into Houses, similar to the old model at school, open participation was replaced by house-wise selection, following which alone one could take part in any of the smorgasboard of events. I, myself, was slated to participate in 3 events, on behalf of my house, the Pirates. The first, Gaanamela, was a unique event in terms of its magnitude. In the simplest of terms, Gaanamela saw each House receive 20 minutes to showcase their members' musical talents in as few or many songs as they can manage to pull off within the specified time. Our band chose to perform 4 songs, "Nenjukkul Peididhum", "Ennavale", "Sajna Di Vari Vari", and "Duur", the last of which, I was chosen to sing. Given the late stage at which I joined the band, my song choice was made with the time constraint in mind. I had a niggling fear that Duur would see the end of my aim of singing at future versions of Ripples, as, simply put, I thought the song didn't suit my voice! Given my lack of practice time due to relentless practice for the other events, my faith in my vocal abilities never found solid ground. Eventually, on the day itself, as I hit my first note slightly wrong and adjusted quickly throughout the rest of the song, I felt disheartened. My lack of practice had clearly shown, and even though I was on-pitch throughout the song, problems with the instrument mikes distracted my mind in between the performance, and ultimately left me with a bitter taste in my mouth for not having come even close to my own expectations. Admittedly, the response to my vocals ranged from "OK" to "Superb", suggesting maybe I hadn't done as bad a job as I felt, but my disappointment hasn't yet waned, for I still feel that given a bit more practise, and a little better luck with the instrument mikes, I could've sung with a lot more vigour and confidence than I actually did. Unfortunately for our band, the mixing problems which felped ruin my own song went on to decimate our chances by ruining every other song of ours as well, in particular, our instrumental masterpiece, "Sajna di Vari Vari", feat 6 instruments, which had sounded brilliant during practice. A disappointing 4th place was all that could be achieved.

The second event, on the same day as Gaanamela, was Nostalgia : A group dance performed in a dated fashion in the backdrop of a pre-90's dance track. While all other Houses chose old Hindi songs for their theme, we chose an old Tamil song to shake a leg to. Practice was hectic, and the amount of money poured in to help us out was mind-boggling. 5-6 days of practise was all I had, but that proved sufficient in the end. My confidence, though at rock bottom initially as I'd never even AUDITIONED for a group dance on stage before, began to grow slowly, and by the final 2 days of practice, was higher than I could've ever hoped. Our performance on stage was lauded, and it seemed the fruits of our several hours of practice were beginning to pay off, as the crowd deemed us favourites. I, myself, managed to recollect and perform my steps seamlessly(to my great shock), and inspite of a small slip due to the loose carpetting, my overall performance was satisfactory to me thanks to a quick recovery. Unfortunately for us, the judges found our costumes unattractive, even though one couldn't imagine anything other than a "baniyan" and "mundu" for the song we'd chosen, and our dance, to them, seem too "folk". As a result of these absurd complaints, we were relegated to 3rd place.

The final event, Western Dance, was the showpiece of the final day. Having been pulled into the group only 3 nights before the event, it proved a tall order for me. Combined with Nostalgia, we'd practised relentlessly almost every night, sometimes uptil 2 am. The practices were held at times at the MH, and at times at a 2nd yr, Lakshmi chechi's house, quite far away from our own MH. The practices were exhausting and physically demanding, to the extent that some skin on the toe of my left foot peeled off in the process, forcing me to bandage it till the final performance. Having worked hard to memorize my Western steps in just 2 nights and adjust my timing to perform in sync with the group, tragedy nearly struck as I sprained my back while practising just a few hours before the event. Gulping down a painkiller tablet, I managed to rejoin practise after a rest and subdue the pain enough to be confident of my chances on stage. Being body-painted in scary colours from the waist up, was a new experience for me, and one I doubt I'll forget for a long time to come. On stage, excitement and fear reached out to me in the same breath, but I held my nerve, and did my bit almost to perfection(or at least, as best as I possibly could have), until a small, perhaps not easily noticeable error in the handling of a prop at the end killed my joy and sapped me of my confidence. Tense moments followed, but the announcement that we'd be sharing 1st place was gratefully welcomed.

Over the week or so in which I'd been made to shed a lot of sweat and tears in preparation for these 3 days, I faced exhaustion,anxiety and fatigue as perhaps never before. But truly, in that one week, I enjoyed college life more than ever in the previous 4 months. It was refreshing, and a welcome change from the trappings of the classroom. Seeing the commitment of the many seniors who formed the core of the house was also endearing indeed! Finally, a House felt like something I WANTED to belong to, rather than an unnecessary label. Inspite of the many controversies that surrounded this year's event with respect to the judging and organisation, the urge to broaden my horizons and try my hand at a far greater number of events the next year has already set in. It's an anticipation that keeps growing in my heart, and should reach fever-pitch this time next year. Videos and pictures of the event should appear on this blog in a short while, but for now, my hands are tied! Let's hope Ripples '10 goes much much further in terms of competition, skill and entertainment!

BOLO PIRATES KI JAI!!!

Rewinding to the Holocaust

The subject of this post, I assume, is made very clear by the title. Recent events in the Middle East have brought back vivid memories of a time when a race of people endured the worst form of torture and persecution in mankind's history. The only difference between the events of 70 years ago and the previous 2 weeks, are that the victims have turned the aggressors.

The vile and despicable military action undertaken by the Israeli regime over the past 2 weeks serves as a reminder to people across the world, especially us in India, that harbouring feelings of vengeance can yield unimaginable havoc! Any kid on the street could tell you that a war in which the deaths of only a handful of Israelis is countered by the massacre of a thousand Palestinians is little short of genocide! The term "overly-aggressive" hardly suffices. With the highest population density of any region in the world, Israel knew that collateral damage and civilian casualties could never be contained if a ground offensive were launched in Gaza. The military leadership was either too stupid or too indifferent to care! The latter theory makes greater sense to me. What confounds me even more is the extent to which the United States can back Israel, even as it commits such atrocities! The U.N. Security Council makes the right noises, but its words fall on deaf ears, and yet, Israel is not evicted from the U.N. or punished for grossly disrespecting its orders! Other countries around the world, with the exception of a few, remain mute spectators. Palestine is left alone, and the Gazans have no hand to reach out to for aid! They live in abject poverty, their livelihood and economy crippled by the economic blockades imposed by Israel and the rest of the world. Without basic healthcare, sanitation and reeling under near-famine due to an acute scarcity of food, their suffering is unlike that of any race currently existing! A lead sky envelopes their present and their future, and yet the world does little but watch!

Post the 26-11 attacks, statements emerged from Israel saying that both India and Israel are bonded in grief, both victims of a remorseless and resilient terror! That assessment could not be further than the truth. India is a nation built on the foundation of non-violence and non-alignment. We have never played the part of the aggressor in any of the wars in our past, and have never sought to annex our neighbours, even though some of them now export terrorists by the dozen across our borders. The same though, cannot be said of Israel.

As my frustration at this collective failure of human conscience grows, a friend's summary of the events of the past 2 weeks gives me a fresh new perspective : "You believe in a God who is always non-violent and peace-loving and who is "goody-good", but some wars, and some conflicts, are justified even by God. Though he doesn't promote violence between his creations, God does consider some causes to be worth the bloodshed. This hatred and conflict between the Palestinians (or Phillistines) and the Israelites dates back more than 2000 years, as is said in the Bible. The treatment meted out to the Palestinians today by Israel is no different from that which was borne by the Israelites when their land was first conquered! This is no atrocity, it is only a case of Hamas using the pick of its arsenal : the Kathyusha Rocket, and Israel its F-16s, to carry on a war that may never end! The ratio of casualties is irrelevant, only the act of war counts." This friend is by no means a devil. He is, by my interactions with him, a very likeable and good natured person and a fervent follower of his faith, but some of his views, particularly this one, truly shock me! There is no God of War, and if there were, then I'd rather turn atheist than bow down to his feet and sing his praises. No God justifies the killing of innocents at the behest of self-righteous political regimes weilding the staff of religion to rally support!

This chat, however informal it may have been, caused alarm bells to sound loud and clear in my head. This is not a religious dispute, and nor should be made out to be so! It is the cry of a people removed from their own land after the Jews sought an independent state, to seek refuge after the holocaust : It is a cry of desperation for a small state of Palestine, to be recognized by one and all and given its due place in world forums! Hamas is a terrorist organisation, and even though my sympathies for Israel have all but dissolved by now, Hamas shall never have my sympathies either. An organisation whose sole purpose of being is the destruction of Israel should be denied both the importance and the dignity that they seek. The world has no place for such narrow-minded people to be given the chance to air their views in public forums! Yet, the more the people of Palestine are pushed to the brink of complete genocide, the deeper the roots of fundamentalism will grow in the minds of the people, and so too will the support for Hamas multiply!

It's time for the world to realize the urgency required in dealing with the Middle East Peace Process. Half-hearted declarations of temporary ceasefires will not do. Citizens across the world may protest these massacres, but our governments remain inept and incapable of taking action!
The suffering of the people of Gaza cannot be allowed to continue, for they will only aid in the spread of extremism in the Muslim world and destroy all efforts to maintain peace and order around the world!

Au Revoir

The STCS '08 batch re-union proved to be a mixed bag in terms of the final impact it had upon my daily routine and the boredom that seems to have gripped my very existence! About 35-40 of us who had been in town at the time chose to attend the get-together at Park Rajdhani, Ulloor for a not-so-quiet buffet lunch at Rs. 149 per head. From familiar faces to those whose faces took a while to register, the crowd was an ensemble of students of different intellects, popularity and interests. The lunch itself was fairly good. At the given price, it was certainly a grade better than the food at Sindhoor Park, the venue of a majority of our previous re-unions. My stomach, unfortunately, today could not seem to bear the same wear-and-tear in one sitting that it had managed to so often in the past. In between the chowing down, friendly chat and banter continued as usual. The occasional joke, the frequent comparisons of the lives of hostelers at colleges in different parts of the country, the "ragging" debates, kept the atmosphere vibrant.

In between and post-lunch, photo sessions raged on, with a camera in almost every hand. Though a fair few of my shots were spoiled to the unruly people I was attempting to photograph, a small minority turned out pretty well. After pigging out on multiple helpings of ice cream and gulab jamun, we retreated to the park behind the buffet area, resting in the shade, chairs lined up around a round table, making a racket at random intervals for no apparent reason, and taking potshots at each other in good humour.


I don't deny that I had my fair share of fun in the process, but perhaps, as an extension of the sombre mood that darkens my current outlook on life, the satisfaction was missing. Yes, I met some friends whose faces I'd never seen over the past 4-5 months. I'd had more than double the recommended 15 mins of laughter a day. Yet, there was an air of monotony about the experience. The concept, perhaps in my mind, has grown stale. Even though I enjoyed meeting them all once again, it in no way felt the same as school. Perhaps the disappointment of the cancellation of the original re-union plan had not washed away. Our farewell was originally planned as a massive function at Sri Mulam Club, Vazhuthacaud. There would be food, music, a stage, and basically every surplus requirement we would need to add an extra zing to the uninspiring re-unions of the past : a party, almost completely uncontrolled, and whose success depended upon only the guests that arrived! The idea stuck in my head and the countdown had been resounding in my head like a ticking time-bomb ever since I'd first heard it! Yet, inspite of the best-laid plans, the dream failed to culminate into even half the event I had imagined! The bus ride back home, thus ended in a complete failure to gather my thoughts. To be honest, I don't know what to make of how I felt about the day. Perhaps, with the growth of stronger relationships in my new world, a re-acquaintance with old friends may be more cherishable. It is only once you feel yoursef start to lose something that you cherish and value every effort that counters it! Maybe I still don't feel like I'm losing them! Or maybe the urge to move on feels too great to keep looking back, and the frequency of these re-unions only seems to drain away their utility and importance.

An Alumni meeting draws near, scheduled for the 10th of Jan. I don't know how enthusiastic I'll be to return as that day draws nearer, but for now, the thought of returning so soon is far from my mind! I may be the first to arrive, or may fail to show up entirely : my world is as confusing to me now as ever. In all probability, given the chance to meet a far wider spectrum of my batchmates, and to interact with some of the teachers who I still yearn to see again, my return is inevitable. Until that day, as the departure of the Chennai Mail lies 14 hours ahead, it's time to say "Au Revoir" to the town I love!

The Long and Winding Road

The past 10 days have breezed by leaving barely a trace. Needless to say, a lot remains to be said and done, and precious little of what I'd planned to do within the scope of 10 days has actually come to fruition. A deep sense of frustration lingers, and the heart longs to stay where I feel most comfortable. The transition from life at home to life at a hostel has proved far more challenging than I imagined. I still feel none of the attachment to my current place of residence as I imagined i would have it this stage. The heart, still, very much lies at home!

The fact that college life itself hasn't endeared itself to me all that much is particularly unnerving. Very few of the periods in the week actually manage to capture my interest, and several of them probably wouldn't ever command it, even if I were a picture of concentration! Perhaps my marks may reflect the very same attitude. Neither poor, nor outstanding by my estimation : indicative of a supreme lack of interest! My results will only start to trickle in once I return to college on the 29th, and needless to say, I'm not looking forward to that day. Although I feel I could get along with almost everyone in my class, I haven't yet felt that deep a bond with many in my new surroundings. A majority of them still seem like strangers to me, inspite of having talked to them and conversed on a variety of topics and on a number of occasions. There still remains that gray area in the back of mind which prevents me from completely submitting myself to a new relationship. It's bewildering : the urge and the drive to move on are very much in place, but the process fails before it can even begin!

People tell me that this phase is temporary ; that adjusting to a change of this magnitude requires as much patience as it does will. I sincerely hope they're right, for at the moment, the end doesn't seem very much in sight! My own self feels diminished, as if every time I speak and interact with anyone, it's a guarded and measured me whose voice is heard. I see myself retreating into a shell, one which I hope I could well break out of once the liberating air of freedom drifts into my aching lungs. Were I to travel back to a few months before the entrance, I doubt I'd see much resemblance between the person I was and the one I now am. The freedom to be me is what I seek, and yet, for some reason I feel devoid of it, and I know not due to what or whom. It's intensely suffocating, and just one among the reasons why I don't feel like leaving tomorrow. But my bags are packed, and my ticket booked. Eventualities seem to be the order of the day. For the moment, I seldom feel myself to be the master of my own destiny. The long and winding road leads on, my frail legs yielding to its incessant call!