Pratibha - A YUVA initiative

By Charul Bansal

November 14, 2010- This day will always bring back to us fond memories of the best children’s day we have ever had. We visited 5 venues across Hyderabad to conduct the drawing competition “PRATIBHA”, a YUVA and NSS BITS Pilani Hyderabad  initiative, for 1000  underprivileged children. The event was received well by the participating organizations like KRUSHI, BHUMI, CNN Thanda School, Schools at Thimmapur and ANANDA MARG.
 

Experience at KRUSHI
  

November 14, 2010- This day will always bring back to us fond memories of the best children’s day we have ever had. We visited the KRUSHI home to conduct the drawing competition “PRATIBHA”, a YUVA initiative, for the children. KRUSHI is dedicated to orphans or children with single mother, started by H.E Shri Rameshwar Thakur and supported by the Saikorian Association, housing boys of the 6-19 age group.
 

KRUSHI is dedicated to orphans or children with single mother, started by H.E Shri Rameshwar Thakur and supported by the Saikorian Association, housing boys of the 6-19 age group.
 

We were welcomed with warm handshakes and vibrant smiles. Greeetings such as “hi anna”, “good morning, akka” and children’s day wishes filled the atmosphere for the next few minutes. Their manager, Mr Robert, a retired principal, received us cheerfully and conducted us around the ashram. The place was more than welcoming with its red building with garden on all its sides. There was also a football field, a basketball court and some place for volleyball. There were swings too in one corner for the tiny tots. Moreover, the ashram had to its deposition a solar water heater, an RO water purifier and a computer lab with about 20 systems. Catering to our inquisitiveness, Mr Robert also informed us that the children went to a government school nearby, where many teachers were paid by the organization itself. He further added that a fair share of the elder boys were pursuing a course in polytechnic.
 

Shortly, the place was bubbling with activity. Kids started pouring in from all corners. They were delighted to receive their Mickey caps (courtesy DISNEY) and cheerfully posed for photographs. They were more than happy to accept the seven of us an audience to their various talents: singing, dancing, drawing etc. The children were very excited about the idea of drawing and painting, and unleashed their imagination and creativity on the theme “My Education, My future, My Hyderabad”.
  
As soon as the sheets and the paints (courtesy PIDILLITE) were distributed, they started painting and drawing with great enthusiasm. The older ones used rulers and other stationery to make huts, some symbols etc. While the younger ones, abandoning all boundaries, made animals, aeroplanes and even India’s flag(they were recently taught the same during Independence Day celebrations). Sixty-Three of the total 80 children participated.
 

After collecting the sheets, we started distributing chocolates (courtesy CANDYMANN) and biscuits (courtesy ITC). Having painted for (an hour) the kids came around in well formed lines and gleefully took the eatables. Surprisingly they politely informed us if by mistake anyone of them was being treated to a second helping. After this striking display of honesty, next in store for us was a subtle reminder of our duty towards keeping the surroundings clean. Immediately after the drawing competition, they started cleaning the place, wiping off the spilt water, picking up the chocolate wrappers etc. but the most memorable incident was the spontaneous response of a 16 year old to a song about telangana. He said, “We don’t belong to either Telangana or Andhra but to INDIA.” Another small boy painted the tiranga on our hands and faces. 

We were totally bowled over by the gestures of these young kids. Finally, it was time to bid adieu. Gathering their goodbyes and thanks, promising them we would come again soon, we started on our way back. As they ran behind our auto waving and shouting feverously, mixed emotions like joy, satisfaction, sorrow and hope overwhelmed me.  It struck me that we had taken far more from them than what we could give. And that realization is what YUVA is all about.

The Editorial

By Vakul Mohanty



The jobless haven’t been jobless for the last few days, what with exams breathing down our backs it has been really difficult for us to pay as much attention as we would have liked to this issue. However thanks to my friend Pradeep Damodara, we were able to pull it off. He is responsible for most of the editing this time, one of the prime reasons some of us won’t be flunking our endsems. Anyway, here we are with LTGTR’s 7th issue, dedicated to travel. Considering that the holidays are fast approaching its more than apt that this be the underlying theme.

Now getting down to the editorial… Well this time around I’ll let you explore the contents. It should be more than helpful in assisting you on your endeavor of reading the magazine. I’ll go ahead and dedicate the editorial to explaining our notion of travel.

The mind is a wanderer, unable to linger on one thought or idea for more than a few moments. This fickle nature has manifested itself in our love for travel. Travel has for eons been associated to adventure. Every epic adventure, be it real life or in literature, has been a journey through the wilderness to an uncertain destination. There is nothing strange about this considering that there can be no greater adventure than tramping through the unknown, the unseen. There is always the immense satisfaction of seeing new places and meeting new people that makes travel so alluring. 

But then what about people like me, who find it impossible to uproot themselves from their little niche? Well, one might say I’m a dull person by nature, incapable of heading out on a true adventure. But I will have to disagree on that, for I have seen Paris, London and, for that matter, ancient Greece… the power of human imagination is truly remarkable. I know my words seem vague and unclear, and I don’t really have the words to express myself. Here’s my suggestion: Read through ‘The Shadow Line’ by Amitav Ghosh. Then maybe you’ll understand what I’m trying to convey. 

Anyway, adios. We hope you enjoy this issue of LTGTR.
 

Cheers and Keep The Good Times Rolling.

The Young & The Pretentious

By Nishant Boorla 

“I don’t want to be a product of my environment.”

                                               - Frank Costello, The Departed

Fortunately, he isn’t the only one who feels that way. We all do what we do to satisfy our giant EGOS. It’s true. You may occasionally spot the one selfless man who seems to have no ego whatsoever. One who gets along with everyone around him. One who doesn’t take anything to heart. It’s possible but that only means he makes a conscious effort to keep his ego to himself. Did I burst a bubble there?

I was once told making a sacrifice for a friend is the highest honour you can bestow upon him. I was told a sacrifice is an act of great selflessness. But it’s hard to take that seriously. It has never been about the other person. It has always and will always be - about us. It’s human nature to take every situation around us and see what we gain from it. Which is why I find it particularly difficult to take the word “selfless” seriously.

Here’s an example. I walk in to an ice cream parlour. I want Belgian Dark Chocolate and I want it badly. I walk over to the counter and say - “ Belgian Dark Chocolate. One scoop please”. Almost miraculously a six year old boy standing next to me says - “Uncle, Belgian Dark Chocolate” - at the exact same time. I look over the counter to check and realize there’s only enough Belgian Dark Chocolate for one of us. In case you’re wondering, this isn’t a Hugh Grant movie. I could of course talk the ice cream guy in to giving it to me but I choose to step aside. He’s a kid after all, it would mean a lot to him.

Now, this never really happened. If it did, I would probably run away with the Dark Chocolate, but that’s not the point. Such a sacrifice may be misconstrued as selflessness. But I being the Grinch, am here to prove to you that you would be wrong to assume so. I merely traded the pleasure of devouring quality ice cream with the pleasure of the knowledge that all those around me perceive me as a selfless being. In all probability I did it because there was a cute girl in the background. I did it because people thinking I’m selfless gives my ego a boost.

We all have an idea of the person we would like to be. We also have an ever-changing idea of who we want people to see when they look at us. Those two identities are never identical.

We take cues from several sources. But I’d like to believe nothing influences us more than the performance arts. Movies, TV shows, music are all major factors that contribute to our everyday hypocrisy. We try ever so hard to take after our matinee idols. From hairstyles to mannerisms, entertainment icons define the people that follow them. Consider the following.

[This being exam season, I’m going to present my views in bullet-point format.]

The Impact of entertainment on the youth of our nation.

How the ladies have lost their minds

    * The wedding planner: I have lost count of the number of movies and TV shows featuring a crazy female “Bridezilla” who since she was six years old has been dreaming of having a fairy tale wedding. The wedding is all about her. She has to morph in to a walking talking house of crazy in the days leading to the wedding. Maybe that is how woman grow up in some countries. But is that the norm in India? I see pretentious girls all over the place. Fake accents and what not. I’m sorry but if an Indian girl talks to me about how she has always dreamed of a perfect wedding where she reads her own vows I will smack her over the head and hold a cup of coffee under her nostrils. Exchange vows? When have you ever seen that happening? If you’re a Christian then that’s perfectly acceptable. But otherwise it makes you a douche. And no, in our country it’s never about the bride. Every wedding in India is about the bride’s parents. The spotlight is on the parents. How much they’ve spent and so on.

    * I could talk about how girls scream “Jesus” or Jesus Christ” out loud instead of the usual “Oh My God” but that may be offensive to those who truly believe he’s listening. I could also insert a smiley here but that would be insensitive.

    * Twilight: Avanti, a friend of mine admitted she finds Twilight lame and only watches the film and squeals with her friends so she’s not an outcast! She’ll regret ever letting me in on that secret and how?! Twilight is ridiculous. But effective marketing has ensured every girl claims she “OMG! loves Twilight” on account of her being a girl. Boys are no different but more on that later.

 
    * First kiss tells you everything: First of all, no it doesn’t. Believe me. Secondly - How do you know? Is it because Will Smith said so in Hitch, or did you get that from “F.R.I.E.N.D.S”? What happened to following your instinct?

How the men have lost their minds

    * The “Bro” Conundrum: Also known as “the babe anomaly” in some cases. Just stop it I say!! Saying “bhai” and “maamu” were fly in the not so distant past. But now everyone refers to the next guy as his “bro”. It’s just not right. Come on!

    * Gangsta signs: To be honest, most people all around the world abuse the sacred gangsta signs. 9 out of 10 people at every party decide it’s time for them to get their “ghetto on” and start flashing random gangsta signs. Word of advice: Splitting your fingers in to any ratio you please does not constitute a gangsta sign! And no, you don’t have to do this - \m/ - for every photograph you’re in.

    * Action movies: OK, so some of them are actually good. But then you come across embarrassing ones like the fourth “Fast and the Furious” movie, The Revenge of the Fallen. It’s pathetic that you’re almost compelled to watch it on account of you being a guy! Any person with even a semblance of human intelligence will find the aforementioned movies senseless and quite frankly an insult to his intelligence. In “Fast and Furious”, good  guys and bad guys (way sophisticated, I know) chase each other across open plains in plain sight for 20 minutes. Those open plains just so happen to be a part of the L.O.C between USA and Mexico! No border security forces though. Don’t you worry! And “Revenge of the Fallen” - ghetto transformers? Really? Skids and Mudflap talk with ghetto accents and what’s more - they can’t read! Come on Michael Bay, you disgraceful loser of a James Cameron wannabe.

    * Yo: Just don’t use that word or any of its many forms. I beg of you. Worst of all, don’t fake an accent and say “yao”. Last time I checked, “yao” only meant a reference to an insanely tall Chinese man who could beat the living daylights out of all of us!

    * Married men taking home flowers: If you belong to an older generation and got married before the 90’s do yourself a favour and stop taking home roses for your wife. That’s not how it works. Sure she might find them pretty but most women from those generations have an old saying the live by - “Jasmine in hair better than rose in hand”.   

I could list out several points in addition with respect to both genders but I think I’ve made my point. If you’re conscience tells you you’re being pretentious, listen to it! Give your ego some time to breathe. Come on now, you owe it to society. Ego is important. Sure. It pushes the boundaries. Makes you do things you wouldn’t dare to. But you’re wasting precious ego points by aping cultures you know very little about. No matter how hard you try you will always remain a true Indian at heart.

"Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken" - Tyler Durden in Fight Club

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Name: Nishant Boorla
Age: 20
Hobbies: Poetry, Insect Photography (true story), watching movies like my life depended on it.

Sheila Ki Jawani...Seriously?

By Sahil Mehta

I’ve repeatedly been told that I listen to a lot of crappy music, and hence I have abstained from writing anything about music. But this is a song- actually more like an opportunity- that I just couldn’t pass up. You know, what I’m talking about, don’t you. You little pervert! Sheila Ki Jawani….this item song has been doing the rounds everywhere. You open the newspaper and there are headlines like

“Farah’s kids crazy about the song ‘Sheila Ki Jawani’. And this is our future generation?

“Katrina steps into Madhuri Dixit’s world”. Comparing Katrina with Madhrui Dixit, seriously? Katrina can’t even deliver a dialogue without looking constipated. Same world my ass!! More like alternate reality.

“My item song is not raunchy: Kat”. Good. But, then what’s the whole point of it being an item song?

I log on to Facebook and the video is sitting right there on top on my news feed.

It’s was freaking everywhere. So I decide, I really need to see this video that everyone’s been harping about. And here I am - the video on an infinite loop on VLC - writing out my thoughts on the whole affair. And frankly, I’m a little dumbfounded. You see, unlike most of our sex-derived and frenzied media reporters and celeb crazy populous, I can’t possibly imagine any normal person getting a hard on by watching this video. Frankly there have been far more seductive videos, both in Indian cinema and well Hollywood’s just out of our league. Now hold on to your hat’s, I am not saying that Katrina doesn’t look good ( after all that’s all she got ), but after having seen so much skin of-late in Bollywood, this doesn’t really seem that big a deal. 

One of the reasons why this video is so-in-the-limelight is the fact that Katrina drapes herself in a white satin sheet. The media apparently loves this and believes it’s something they should blabber about every second they can. Somehow this seems a little hypocritical considering less than a month back this same media was going all “is our future in the right hands” at a harmless game being organized by an IIT.

Another topic up for discussion was Katrina’s belly dance. Has anyone ever heard of Shakira? Hello!

Now let’s get down to the song itself. While the beats are reasonably tolerable, the lyrics are atrocious. The song shall go down in infamy for taking a cult classic dialogue and turning it into this “My name is Sheila, Sheila ki jawani”. My personal apologies Mr. Bond. Another one goes like this, “Kisi aur ki mujhko zaroorat kya, Main toh khud se pyaar jataun”. Does anybody really need me to explain what this sounds like? Disgusting? More like lol!

Look, I’m a nice, open minded guy. I’m not going to preach about how people shouldn’t watch this or shit. Hey, watch porn for all I care, just don’t get caught. All I’m saying is, is this really what we want our fickle-minded public to read, see, and hear about all the time? And it’s not just about this one video, it’s about all the paparazzi stuff that our papers emphasize. Whatever happened to papers like Swaraj, whatever happened to responsible journalism?

Ps. If Sheila Ki Jawani… turns you on, you seriously need to get a life.

Heavenly Himachal

By Roopak Khandekar

Waiting for hours to ski and play in the snow at Rohtang Pass, and a few more hours when your return journey is delayed due to a landslide; visiting spots like the Hidimba temple; feeling the warmth and enjoying the pleasant ambience of British-era hotels; wearing a nice sweater you successfully bargained for in one of those jam-packed woolen clothes sales; or relishing some plums you picked off a tree… it’s heavenly, it’s Himachal. The state of Himachal Pradesh, located in the upper Himalayas, is a great place to escape the scorching Indian summer. Be it tourist destinations, scenic views, adventure sports, handicrafts…this little state has it all.

The Toy Train to Shimla passes through dozens of tunnels and takes sharp curves and steep gradients in its (in some people’s view, boring) 6-hour, 90-odd km journey from Kalka. If you are being driven round in Dalhousie, your driver suddenly takes a sharp turn and you find yourself going along a street you could not imagine existing in the location where it actually does. On at least one occasion, your vehicle will be crossing a fully-packed HPRTC bus on a narrow bridge. You look down from your window and see your vehicle perilously on the edge of the bridge…your heart skips a beat. Another heart-stopping experience is that of being tossed around violently while you cling to the ropes on your raft in the rapids of the Beas (wearing your precious helmets and life-jackets, of course). Or, you can join your feathered friends, though only for a few minutes, as you para-glide in the skies, seeing Himachal as the birds see it. And I’d strongly suggest NOT doing what I did en route to Rohtang Pass: falling asleep.

You’ll probably have some eatery within your reach whenever your stomach rumbles. Paranthas with generous amounts of stuffing and ghee make for a great start of the day. For people who eat meat, the Himachali trout (a type of freshwater fish) is definitely worth a try. If not, then there is Himachali pulao. Higher up in the mountains you can relish hot momos (not of Himachali origin, but certainly delightful in the cold mountain air). I remember some shop in Shimla which sold pickles of almost anything that can be made into a pickle. And, just in case you aren’t in the mood to experiment, there is always all that routine stuff like paneer bhurji or stuffed tomatoes or the locally quite popular rajma or some other item you’ll find on any menu card. Also quite common in the state are outlets of Himachal Agro Products selling jams, syrups etc. of a large variety of fruits.

Large crowds throng the markets at all major hill stations in Himachal Pradesh. There are plenty of handicrafts, woolen articles etc., for sale. There is something for everyone to take back as a souvenir of their journey to this wonderful place.

Losing yourself in the lush green environs of Khajjiar lake, or pampering your eyes with all sorts of flowers in all sorts of colours in Shimla’s Horticulture Centre, or letting all your worries be washed away in a sip of apple cider or hot tea while staring at the snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas… it’s heavenly, it’s Himachal.

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Iran - A Misguided Na(o)tion

By Natasha Deboo

 Iran, as a country, has been subject to great prejudice from the outside world, especially sympathisers of USA. And, while I agree that every country has its merits and faults, one should not be deceived or disillusioned by Iran’s outward reputation, or its political aspirations, both of which are often prejudicially over-hyped by the media. Let’s leave that aside for the moment. Let’s instead talk about its history and the rich culture it commands.

In this holiday issue, I shall cover the imposing and awe-inspiring ancient city of Persepolis, which now lies in ruins and declared as one of the World Heritage Sites of UNESCO. Just as Tehran is the political capital of Iran, Shiraz is said to be its poetic capital. It is known for its famous poets like Haafiz and Saadi, and for its imposing historical monuments like Naqsh – e – Rustom, Naqsh – E – Rajab, Persepolis and Pasargade.

Persepolis is the most important historical monument in Iran. Persepolis literally means ‘City Of The Persians’ and was the spring capital of the Achaemenian kings, displaying great pomp and splendour. Our first view of Persepolis left us all astounded. The city, perched on a platform, built on the foot of Kuh – e – Rahmat, (Mountain of Mercy) looked grand and imposing. To reach the top, there is a double flight of stairs. There are 111 steps on each side. The steps are very wide in width and short in height, so that chariots could easily ply over them and noblemen could scale them graciously. Talk about architectural genius so many years ago! It is said that the four lions on the Ashoka pillar were influenced by a similar capital at Persepolis. And when you see it for yourself, you can easily notice the uncanny resemblance.

Though it was Darius the Great who started building Persepolis, all his successors continued to build it. ‘Alexander the Accursed’ destroyed Persepolis one night in a drunken fit. As a result, all the wooden roofs and pillars were destroyed. It is said that Alexander pressed into his service the use of 2,000 camels, 4,000 horses and 10,000 mules to carry the loot from Persepolis back home.

What has survived the ravages of time; however, are the stone carvings and imposing pillars. Human–headed two–winged bulls flank the entrance to Persepolis. The architectural brilliance in an age without machines and cranes is difficult to imagine. The roof was supported on fluted columns, each resting on an intricately carved base.

The capital on the column consisted of two bulls, Homa birds, or lions, with their faces turned in the opposite directions. How the capitals were lifted up to that height taxes one’s imagination quite a bit! It is interesting and heartening to note that unlike the great pyramids at Egypt, Persepolis was not built by slaves.

In fact, there are stone tablets of that period indicating that each worker received a daily wage comprising a sum of money, a bottle of wine and a leg of lamb. What’s more, women worked side by side with men and enjoyed paid maternity leave. This sort of emancipation was unheard of even a century ago in the so called modern world!

Such was the high culture and civilization of ancient Persia! Another very distinguishing feature of the construction of Persepolis is that there was no cement used to join two blocks of stone. What they used instead, was a gargantuan metal pin, one you can crudely call a ‘huge staple pin’. This pin was ‘stapled’ between the two blocks of stone, thus ensuring that each piece of the palace was perfect.

There are also carvings of the mythical Homa bird. This figure has the paws of a lion to indicate strength, the head of an eagle to depict flight and ascendancy and the ears of a bull depicting wisdom. It is a symbol of good luck, to wish strength, growth and wisdom to all those who visit Persepolis. It is incidentally also the ‘Iran Air’ symbol. There are also other etchings on stone, of hundreds of soldiers preparing for war. What is amazing is the sheer detail carved by the stone masons of that era.

There is also depiction of the ‘10,000 Immortals’, which was an elite fighting force, for quelling any uprising in the empire. This army was so called because if any soldier fell ill or died in battle he would be immediately replaced by another, such that the number would never fall below 10,000.
 

The immaculate symmetry is also very commendable. If a wall has 123 soldiers sculpted, then the wall directly facing it also has the exact number of soldiers, and so on. There is also a relief which portrays Xerxes the Great sitting majestically on a throne carried by several attendants. The painstaking effort and the eye for detail in each frieze leaves you breathless and with a yearning for more.

The largest structure at Persepolis is the Apadana where the great kings themselves used to hold court. Next to the Apadana is a structure called Tachara or ‘Mirror Palace’. The Mirror Palace is called so because the stone is polished enough for one to see one’s reflection.
 

Carvings of people from different countries, including India (clad in the traditional dhoti, with a cow and spices as gifts); their costumes and weapons; and the various gifts that they are bringing to the king, adorn the eastern staircase of the palace. 

 
The panels depicting ambassadors of different countries are separated by etchings of cypress trees wishing everyone a long life. Elsewhere, there are also etchings of date palms to wish everyone a sweet life.

 
Some distance away are the tombs of Artaxerxes II and Artaxerxes III. At the far end of Persepolis is a stone panel depicting Darius The Great seated on his throne with a staff in one hand and a flower in another. Before him are two small fire altars and an emissary addressing the great king with his hand raised in salutation.

A replica of the image of Cyrus The Great with an Egyptian head-gear and long Elamite dress, seen at Pasargade, is also on display. There is also a museum which is built over a ruined palace in an attempt to reconstruct and make visitors get a feel of what Persepolis originally looked like more than two and a half millennia ago, complete with stump, column, capital, beam and roof.

 
It is very difficult for us to think of this ‘war-torn’ country of Iran as being blessed with such beauty. The truth is that one must never trust the myopic vision and opinions of others unless you first see it for yourself. What’s one man’s meat is another’s poison, and beauty always lies in the eye of the beholder.
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Excerpted from the Book titled: “Iran – Tracing Footprints Through Time” By Natasha V Deboo Published in 2009.

Araku Valley

By Hasita Krishna

So you don’t have too much time to spend on a holiday, and you are a localite. 

What do you do?
  

If you live anywhere between twenty minutes to twelve hours away from Vishakapatnam, Andhra Pradesh, Araku Valley is by far the destination of choice for a short, yet memorable holiday.
 

For those of you who love being in the lap of nature, this place has just what you want. Everything here is just right-the weather, the locales, the people-you name it! As for those who love the journey more than the destination, driving to Araku is going to be one of your best memories.
 

Life in the woods has never come alive the way it does in Araku Valley. You can go on a trekking tour of the place, or if you prefer to have a lazier holiday, all you have to do is sit at the windowsill; the birds and bees (clichéd) are there to entertain you. But there is this ethereal quality about the place that makes you wonder if it’s the place changing hues or if it’s your eyes playing tricks on you. So irrespective of whether you are outdoorsy, laidback, sceptic or just plain bored, the place is sure to charm you.
 

 The Borra Caves are about half an hour drive from the main town, and they are one of the largest natural formations of their kind in the country. The caves are known for their cultural heritage and geographical significance.
 

The town is inhabited by local tribes as well as people who have settled in the area over a period of time. They are not only extremely helpful, but also have a lot of folklore to share with you.
 

So the next time you head out for the shortest possible duration, but don’t want to compromise on the fun you have, you know where to go!

Factfile:
 

Where: 115 Km from the nearest city, Vishakapatnam.
How: Either by train or an extremely efficient road transport system. We also recommend driving yourself.
When: Anytime apart from April, May. December-January temperatures range from 15 to 25°C.
What: Essentially the scenic beauty; Museum of Tribal Arts; The Tribal Dance
Who: We suggest you go with friends :D, but family ain’t bad either..

A Prefect's Uncle - Book Review

By Sukanya Venkatraman

Prologue/Statutory warning/ Cover up : If this ends up seeming like a part of an article that talks about P. G. Wodehouse’s, to put it in lay man’s term, brilliance, than a review of his book, forgiveness is sought. It’s my first of Wodehouse’s books and hence the obvious awe.
 

A prefect’s uncle, does not, by any stretch of the adjective, have an amazing plot or story line. It does not have deeply distraught, greatly talented and therefore amazing characters. It doesn’t give a new perspective on life or make one sit down and think about the stark realities of the world today.
 

So why read the book?
 

Because its an insight into Wodehouse’s brilliance. He is the grandfather who delves into philosophy, but lets you go as deep as you want to into his words. He is the father, who tells you the difference between good and bad. He is also the mother, who tells you that there’s good and bad within all of us, that when asked for forgiveness, the bad must be forgiven, for that’s the good in them. He is the friend, who reminds you of the little things in life. Finally, through his characters – the good-natured Mariott, the typical do-gooder Gethryn, the multi-talented but vain Pringle, the proud but good-at-heart Norris, the reserved, yet not unfriendly Reece, the much despised Monk, the trouble-inviting junior Farnie and the no-nonsense Wilson, he is the amazing narrator, brilliant author and master wordsmith.
 

A prefect’s uncle is a simple story of a year at Beckford. A typical year, where human characteristics are revealed, prejudices and friendships are formed and broken. The protagonists, with their seemingly ordinary lives, deal with the various ups and downs – the disappearance of Gethryn, one of their main bowlers, during the match against MCC; the rise of an underdog house cricket team and the final victory in the football match in the winter term. 

It is the perfect book to start off your holidays with- not too serious, and as light as you want it to be. It’s an extra-ordinary person’s narrative of ordinary people’s lives, which makes it extra-ordinary. It reminds you of the fact that life shouldn’t be taken too seriously, that one doesn’t grow at his/her turning points, but during the journey before and after.

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Sukanya Venkataraman

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Call Of Duty 7 : The Black Ops

By Sagnik Choudhary 

The Call of Duty franchise can in essence be described in one word – robust. While not exactly a bad thing for a first person shooter, the drama and the plot twists do get a little too monotonous after a while. A twist isn’t a twist if it comes with plot holes right? All of this was what Modern Warfare 2 got wrong, and Treyarch apparently has learnt from Infinity Ward’s mistakes. Though not compromising on the speed in general at which a CoD game progresses, Black Ops delivers a fantastic FPS experience, one that’ll be hard to match in some time.
 

The campaign is a roller-coaster ride. Black Ops is the first game to be set in the Cold War and makes use of most of the hot Cold War locations like Cuba, Russia and Vietnam pretty well. Quite a few recognizable historical figures have been recreated too (Castro and JFK for instance). The level of detail that shows in some of the better known places that you visit, Vorkuta and Vietnam for example, is pretty stunning.The one fault that the campaign has, is that it’s too short. It clocks at about six hours on the standard difficulty, and when a game’s that good, this is something to be very sad about.
 

The plot is airtight and is probably the best that a Call of Duty game has come up with till date. You play a covert operations officer, one who’s being forced to recount all his experiences by his unseen captors and almost all of the missions play out as flashbacks. Apparently you’re the only person who can decipher a Russian cryptic numbers broadcast, one that was programmed into you when you were held in Vorkuta, and something that your captors feel is vital information. What they hadn’t bargained for however is that the numbers could stand for more than just the one thing, and the trauma you faced at the Vorkuta Gulag is something that could leave no man’s mind unscathed…
 

The cast of CoD 7 is befitting of a major movie, and features stars like Sam Worthington, Ed Harris, Ice Cube, Emmanuelle Chriqui and Gary Oldman, who puts in a spectacular performance as Viktor Reznov, a role he reprises from CoD 5: World at War.
 

Gameplay mechanics range from standard FPS to airing a chopper through Vietnam to guiding friendly troops using a ‘BlackBird’ recon aircraft’s IR sensors. Shooting mechanics work just like the previous CoD games, the usual arsenal of grenades, flashbangs, shotguns etc. One noteworthy addition however, is the Crossbow, and this is incredibly fun to use. With the standard bolts, this works like a silenced sniper rifle, while what happens with the explosive bolts attachment, is actually pretty self-explanatory. Shoot a bolt into an enemy trooper, and watch him and the 5 meter radius around him blow up the next second. Also my personal favourite is the Python revolver, old school but awesome to use. All in all, combat has its thrills even if it’s not too visceral.
 

Though I haven’t had the opportunity to try my hand at multiplayer myself (for pretty obvious reasons), it’s been revamped quite a bit. New and improved perks, such as a contract system where you can bet on yourself, and a theatre mode that lets you record your best and worst moments are nifty additions to an already great multiplayer system. The Co-Op zombie bashing mode returns from CoD 5, sure everybody dies in the end, but after having a hell of a lot of fun. The most notable addition however, is the Combat Training mode that puts you up against bots on multiplayer maps; this so that everyone can get a taste of what the multiplayer is like.

The graphics look absolutely stunning at the highest setting, though this can be adjusted to suit mid to low level PC’s as well. Even on the lowest setting, Black Ops is easily the best looking CoD. Black Ops features Vietnam War era music including The Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” (played during a gameplay sequence and the credits) and Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Fortunate Son”. Eminem’s “Won’t Back Down” is used for the credits as well. The original music was composed by Sean Murray, who also composed Call of Duty: World at War.

All in all, CoD as always, is best enjoyed with a friend or friends. The single-player campaign is fantastic for the while it lasts, but Black Ops thrives on modes like Zombie Bashing and Combat Training, modes that you’ll easily lose hours to. Black Ops broke all records and sold more than 7 million copies 24 hours after its release. No coincidence either, Black Ops is simply one of the best games to recommend this year.
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Sagnik Choudhary is an third year student of Eng. He  has a fetish for computer games, fantasy ficition novels and movies. He is an ardent quizzer and an expert at writing reviews.

Silence Is Golden

By Vakul Mohanty 

( Inspired by an article of the same name written by my father, posted on his blog Mokatha )

“Speech is silver, but silence is golden”. 

 For centuries silence has been the hallmark of a controlled, self assured person. A person detached from the mundane chitter-chatter of daily life, contemplating on the greater aspects of life. Indian mythology perfectly chronicles the virtues of silence, holy men engaged in centuries of meditation, in silent harmony with nature searching for enlightenment - searching for the answer to everything. In a more modern scenario, individuals like me have to constantly listen to stuff like - “Look at him, he’s so silent and composed, learn to concentrate like him.”
 

Even under the threat of being called a hypocrite I have to agree. Silence is truly a virtue. The ability to detach oneself from the bitching about anything and everything around us truly is the mark of a genius. But is the silence we see a virtue, or do we sometimes mistake an escapist attitude for a virtue? We Indians have been considered silent people by many westerners, engaged in our continuous struggle for excellence so that we can survive in a world on continuous strife and struggle. But what about our silence regarding subjects like terrorism, corruption, etc.?
 

Take, for example, the municipality - you want a construction permit. You go about all the formalities religiously and wait… and wait… and wait… damn it takes forever. Now you shove 500 bucks down the pocket of the clerks and presto… your job is done in a matter of a few hours. And what do we do about this grand abuse of position?? Oh nothing - “My work’s done for just 500 bucks so why should I give a damn?” Our silent acceptance is what we have to blame for the rampart corruption in India, not the government (not that the government is absolutely innocent though)
 

This attitude isn’t limited to just corruption, we have over the course of several centuries ignored and turned a blind eye to social practices like sati, child marriages, untouchability… the list isn’t short. As a result a society that 2 millennia ago was considered to be one of the greatest civilizations to have existed was degraded to a barbaric hoard. And if wasn’t for people like Raja Ram Mohan Roy we wouldn’t be any better now. Silence and inaction has been beaten into our very soul and existence. We refuse to stand up to injustice, we refuse to stand up and defend our dignity, our country... How the hell are we so damn proud of our society and culture??

 
To conclude I just one thing to say, silence is golden, true, but only when speech is just a waste of words. But silence is a sin if we refuse to stand up to the injustice around us. Raise your voice against evil, act against it, there is no virtue in cowardly silence.

| articles | bio | email |  

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Vakul Mohanty
A metal-head who's wants to do pursue a Ph.D Currently studying Biology & Comp Sc. at BITS,Pilani - Hyderabad Campus, his life-long ambition is to become a professor and wear shorts to work

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What If?

By Pradeep Damodara 

Satisfaction. Something we never really seem to manage to find. The mind is fickle, they say, and rightly so, and yet we haven’t been able to tame it. If you have bread, you wish for cheese. Once you get the cheese, you want ketchup. Finally, when you have the butter, toaster and Italian seasoning, you wish for that pizza!
 

Whenever you get something, something good, tangible, “satisfying”, that tiny voice in your head tells you it’s not enough.”
 

So  we’ve established that nothing is ever enough. Eventually, the mind comes to accept that… that and the fact that life isn’t fair. We never get what we want or deserve.
 

That’s when we shift from the more rational realism to the dreamscape and ask that fateful question: “What If?”
 

And so the word games start. Two syllables would never have meant so much than at that point, when this cruel, unfair world took away everything that we desired.
 

We delve deeper into the conscience, following unrealistic paths, courses of life that we know are impossible, yet seem so plausible in that moment of imaginary clarity, that we’re addicted to their outcome. We take solace in irrationality, and wallow in our self-pity, forever consoling ourselves with the day dreams of what would have been or what still maybe, only if our will be done.
 

The same two syllables we ask, always choosing the answer that better satisfies us. Yet, you’ve agreed the mind is never satisfied. The need is never met. So you’re stuck in the imagination, lost in the moment. And eventually you chance upon a roadblock you can’t surmount. An idea, a notion, which even ‘what if?’ can’t conquer.
 

Your two faithful syllables shatter, fail utterly, and you wake with a start.

You wake up, sweating, hyperventilating, crying. And you start to think: “What if?”

“What if I didn’t dream that??”
And so it is.
So it’s always been.

Give Me Wings To Fly

By Amrita Bhanja 

I flew around the joyous world,

My dreams went around to fly,

It flew in the cloudless sky,

Flew like a young bird would,

Mindless and free like it should.

Singing aloud all kind of word,

I didn’t want to see the world beneath,

I was happy getting the fresh air to breath.

Alas! I was caught,

Ho! What to do now!!

How to get free…

They have kept me in a cage,

The cage named ‘Expectation’.

Which I had heard about At a small age.

No, No I want to be free

Please I beg you let me be on top of tree

I cried and cried,

But nobody mercied me

I cried unless I had no tears

to be left free.

I asked what is this expectation,

They said something you have to live with

And have to fulfill it with determination

With no signs of pain while doing it,

With full sportiveness and liking it.

I said ‘Let me be free, I like it’,

They said ‘What you like is not the world’

What others like is your world.

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AMRITA BHANJA is a second year student from SRM UNIVESITY, CHENNAI studying ELECTRONICS AND INSTRUMENTATION. Her interests include: WRITING, PETS,MOVIES, TRAVELING

Veni, Vedi, Vici

By Varsha Apte

The finish line was officially marked,
Concentration surged through her veins,shaped by months of toil and rigour,
Her passion written all over her face, so evident in the blood,sweat and tears was the base of the pyramid upon which she had to build.
The end was straight as it oft is,
It were the twisted and varied means she had to master.
The trials and tribulations,
The traumatic injuries and the resentful frustration they brought along,were soothed by the unguent of mentoring and rest,
Her mind was doing cartwheels through the minds of the competitors as she scanned them with a deft move of her eyes.
Strategy and technique,never could they take a backseat.
Her ears were tuned to the shriek of the whistle,
The moment had arrived.
Her body was the vehicle and her mind its engine,
The goal was to outclass,
The right blend of drive,motivation and energy lent her sprints adequate spike.
She whirred past the competition as the numbers stacked,
The resounding cheers provided fuel where her bodily reserves seemed to slack,
She sped on as hurdles behind her accepted defeat,
Her competition was slammed by the wind in envy,
She stepped up the acceleration,
Sprouting wings as she raced on,
The line was in sight but the competition was catching up,
The heat and the humidity filled her nostrils.
The trophy glistened as she rushed on,
The point of the compass was drawing closer to its destination,
With victory it had to coincide.
She bolted,
The pressure was mounting,
Her sinewy legs were now galloping and her heart beat faster,
She craned her neck from side to side,
The moment had arrived,
The line was crossed and left behind,
The crowd roared with applause,the competition was beaten hollow.
She raised her arms high,powered by confidence,
The glistening trophy she nestled with pride,
With eyes gently shut she let her senses take over,
The triumph,the joy,the hunger,the verve,
Like a sponge she absorbed the heady mix,as friends and her mentor rallied around her,
With moist eyes and a brow beaded with perspiration,she took a bow.
The pinnacle she had to reach was in her mind firmly fixed,
Her face shone with pristine clarity,
She had followed her dream,
She had followed her dream.

Party In The USA

 BY Born Confused

Madison, WI, USA.

“Eh? Where’s that?” you ask?? Look for the land of heavenly cheese on the map. Alright, I accept that it’s not the first place you would think of when considering studying abroad. But you should!

Because it is THE shit. Excuse the expression.

Actually, don’t.

It is a small city (although it is the capital of Wisconsin, the dairy state!), very beautiful and the center of action is mainly in and around the University of Wisconsin (where I am) and the people here are really nice and friendly.

To quote the article on Wikipedia:

“In 2010, Wisconsin was named the number three “party school” by Playboy magazine and number 12 by The Princeton Review. UW–Madison has long held a reputation for academics, political activism, and drinking; the last of these can be understood in the context of the state’s traditionally high level of alcohol consumption in general.”

Well, I’m guessing that needs no explanation!

So y’all must be thinking “Pooh, these Americans! Wooo!! We’re so smart and clever”

WRONG. They could clobber us in any aspect of life.

Sports.

Academics.

Fitness.

Yep. People here work hard and party harder. And casually run miles in shorts in the cold wind while talking at the same time. This just amazes me. I can’t even run for 30 seconds! Let alone talk while doing it! “Wheeze wheeze, huff puff...dying...must stop...”

Engineering College in India? Oh. My. God. We’re so far behind, we can’t even dream of catching up! (No, really!)

The system SUCKS. This blindly mugging up text books has to stop. NOW. God is witness to how I’m struggling with basic programming here because I have hardly any practice/experience and because I have developed this bad habit of spacing out in class over the past 2 years (Come on! Can you blame me?) As a matter of fact, I started writing this while I was sitting in class (second row) Tsk, tsk, I know. But I blame it on you, soul-sucking, zombie-making, spirit-crushing engineering college! But you guys sent me here, so for that I must thank you.

Because life in the USA - YEAHHH! This is the real deal!

It’s everything I wanted out of college life! I don’t care that I don’t get to eat idlis or whatever every day. I love it here and I want this for our country! I mean I don’t admire the culture much but some things are just perfect! And it has spoiled my habits now. I’m going to find fault with everything when I come back home! Things are so different here that sometimes the contrast really hits me. Let me explain.

America: 5 different types of cheese on your pizza. At least. And different kinds of cheese for different types of food. And you’ll even learn to name them.

India: Britannia/Amul.

America: You smile at the bus driver and thank them, hold doors open for people, wish them a good day whole heartedly and generally mind your P’s and Q’s. Oh and nobody honks. Ever.

India: Before you even know it, you would have been cussed and honked at by irate drivers on the road, leered at by random jerks, had the door slam in your face as you’re walking in and been given strange looks by people for smiling.

America: Professor turns up to class in shorts and flowery shirt. And whaddya know, he’s young AND cute! YES.

India: ‘Sir’ turns up to class in ugly shirt and he’s ancient. I really don’t have more to say.

America: Dude falls asleep in class and nobody cares. He starts snoring. The professor says, “Hey, it’s okay to sleep, but you’re snoring!”

India: “You! Get out of my class!” *throws chalk if deeply impassioned*

America: Dude spreads open paper and reads in class. The professor says politely, “Could you be a bit more discreet about reading the paper?” Dude: “Oh, sorry!”. Folds paper and continues to read.

India: “How dare you? Get out of my class!” *throws chalk for good measure*

America: Dude eats pizza in class and writes notes at the same time. Nobody cares!!!

India: “Get out of my class!” *chalk??*

America: You can write your assignments/exams/notes in a writing instrument of your choice (read pen/pencil of any color) and in any format. You can even scribble. No need to write in a weirdly formal way, no protocol. No need to draw margins! Imagine that!

India: “GET OUT!!”

America: It’s normal for there to be a day when a street is shut down so people can get wasted all day and parade around.

India: Ahahaha! Probably a bad idea. I’ll leave it to your imagination.

America: Do what you want! Nobody really gives a flying rat’s ass. Nobody will judge you.

India: Beware the gossipmongers. Oh and the teachers too for some reason. Though why they should have any say in our lives, now that we’re adults, I simply cannot figure out.

Point is, this is what school should be like! Yes School, not College(I speak American now). Freedom from people giving you shit about everything.

Don’t snicker when you see a boy and a girl having a conversation or spending time together.

Don’t judge folks and label them as nerds or partiers. People aren’t stereotypes!

That guy who sleeps in class and/or drinks all weekend may have the brain of a genius and you would never know because you wrote him off. (Totally true. This dude slept through half the class sitting in the front row and then woke up and asked some really smart questions. No shit. I was like ‘Sheesh, I need to grow a brain’)

Everyone should feel free to be who they are. And not be constantly thinking about how people will react. Everyone should be allowed to grow intellectually in their own ways and not be bound by all these ridiculous rules and protocol and horrid, meaningless text books.

When you feel true freedom in a country in which you are a visitor rather than in your own country, then you know something is definitely......... fucked up. Pardon the expression.

Actually, don’t.

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‘Born Confused” is a third year computer science engineering student currently on a study abroad program in Madison, WI, USA. She enjoys junk food, writing(to keep her brain from rotting), yelling ‘superfish’ at odd occasions and making fun of people who don’t know what ‘superfish’ is.’