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The Rebel Generation

Showing posts with label March12. Show all posts
Showing posts with label March12. Show all posts

Thurisaz



We talk to Pepijn De, the drummer for the Belgian metal band Thurisaz, who recently played in India at BITS, Pilani - Hyderabad Campus. We find out how music happened to them, what kind of music do they play and the experience of playing in India

Q. What ’s the story behind the name Thurisaz?
A: At first we were named Modilium, but we didn’t take things serious at that time. When we started to make more mature music we felt like changing our name into something else. Kobe came up with the name Thurisaz. One of its meanings is: the fusion of different opinions. That reflects more or less how and what we are in the band.

Q. And the current line-up of the band is?
A: Peter Theuwen sings and plays guitar, Mattias Theuwen also sings and plays guitar. Kobe Cannière also sings and plays keyboard, Hannes Leroy is our bassplayer and I, Pepijn De Raeymaecker play the drums.

Q. Where did you guys meet? How long have you know each other?

A: We are friends as long as we can remember. For instance, Peter and I met, when we were 5 years old at school. During our years as children we learnt to play an instrument but it wasn’t till we were 16 years old when we started to play together in a band. It immediately felt the right thing to do and we had a lot of fun. And we didn’t had to search very long for musicians because we were already friends and we lived very close to each other.


Q. If you had to pick a genre for you music, what would it be? Who are your major influences?
A: It’s hard to just pick one genre as our main influence. We all like different bands and genres and we listen to a whole variety of music. Even non-metal music can be a source of inspiration to us. From Pink Floyd to Gojira, from Devin Townsend to My Dying Bride... We try to be open-minded about that and we always search inspiration in good music, no matter what genre…

Q. When did you form your band? What inspired you to make music together?
A: It just seemed like a fun thing to do in the early days. It was in the year 1997 when we started. We were looking for something to kill the time and we simply picked up our instruments and started jamming. The first day we made like three songs already and we never stopped playing since. Six months later we played our first gig at the local bar and we enjoyed it a lot. At that time we only dreamed of still playing together after 15 years. And even playing in India and USA was only a dream. But we are where we are now and a lot of dreams have come true.

Q. How do you go about writing & composing songs?
A: Usually our guitar players come with an idea or with some kind of melody. From that idea we build up the song all together. We all make suggestions or try to put new ideas in the song structure or melody. When we are all 100% satisfied with a song, we put it on the next album. And that’s the reason why it takes us so long to make new songs. If not everybody is satisfied, we don’t use the song.

Q. Are there any main themes to your songs?
A: In our lyrics you won’t find mainly happy vibes. We sing about our darkest moments in life and the doom theme is definitely there.

Q. Which songs do you perform most frequently? Do you ever play any covers?
A: We always play our own songs. Except maybe in the beginning when we didn’t had enough good songs to play live. But we always try to play a set with songs from all three albums. Point Of No Return and Scent Of A Dream will always be in our set list, I guess.

Q. How do you guys rehearse and practice?
A: We try to rehearse at least once a week but it’s getting difficult to come together each weekend. We normally rehearse the songs we’ll play on the next concert. Especially after a release of an album. We certainly take a lot of care to perform the songs as good as possible. So after a release we focus on that. But after a while we start to write new tunes and the older songs are put on hold.

Q.  Were you circumspect about coming to India? How was the experience?
A: We didn’t know what to expect when we came to India. It could have been a disaster but fortunately it was one of the best moments in our lives. The crowd went crazy and we felt so much energy coming from the fans. We played over more than 160 gigs, so you can say we have some experience already but playing in India is something else. We were definitely more focused then an average concert, I can say!

Q. How long have each of you been playing your respective instruments?
A: I started playing drums when I was 12 years old at a music school. Peter was younger when he started to play guitar. Mattias played guitar at the age of 14 or 15. Kobe on keyboards and Hannes on bass, learned to play when they were 12.

Q.  What is your take on the western music scene in India?
A: Before our trip to India we didn’t knew any music from India. We were told we would get a spot in the jury for the ‘till death do we part’ – metal battle before our show. So we started to listen to those bands and we were pleasantly surprised by the high quality of those bands. They sounded really good and they were all excellent musicians. I was also amazed that they all knew bands like Gojira and Hacride, two bands I really like, amongst many other western bands… You would think that on the other side of the world people would have a totally different musical taste but the world isn’t that big after all. 



Q. Finding one’s own sound is a long gone-by thing in today’s genre-plagued scene. Do you guys think you have your own sound? What does it take to find your own sound?
A: I guess, our music is a mixture of all our influences in the band. We don’t want to be copy-cats and try to sound like another band or genre. We don’t care if this song sounds black metal and the other one is a doom song. As long as it sounds good to us, we’ll play it. The biggest compliment is hearing we have some kind of our own sound.

Q. Any last words?
A: We would like to thank you for spreading the word of Thurisaz! We would also like to thank everyone who has supported us throughout the years! And please visit our website and Facebook page!

Relationship Doctor

Think of a poor little thin girl with great dreams and aspirations about one day meeting the one perfect man....

Think of the geeky, dark, young man who has accomplished everything in life, a great GPA, a scholarship, made his parents proud, everything, except finding the right girl...

This column is not for them.

This column is to tell you all the things that you must not do, in order to have at least a shot left at a stilted, short-term relationship which is probably the best bet you’ll get, so read on...

DISCLAIMER: All the opinions expressed in this column are strictly those of the author, and are not in support or bigoted against any political, religious, or racial agenda, since the author cannot be bothered to care about such things. And the world would be a better place if it remained that way.

Question #1
What should one follow??
Heart or Brain?
- The thinker
 
My dear thinker, you have stumbled onto one of the great questions that has prevailed upon mankind for thousands of generations. However, after having carried out intensive research on this subject (using a cork, a paper knife and a bottle of wine), I have come to the conclusion that if you want to get married someday. (frankly, you have to, you’re soppy and sentimental, its either that or a brothel), you should stop asking such questions and focus more on real life, (as depicted in leading romantic novels and movies),
And I’ll answer your question if you can answer mine,
What came first? The food or the bill? (You’re at a famous Delhi restaurant)
All the best.
- Dr. .................

Question #2
Hi, I’m 21, I’m attractive, of medium height, and conservative by nature. Why do I have trouble finding a boyfriend? Please help.
-Sincerely, Meenakumari. (Meena to friends.)

Ans. Well, Meena (I can call you Meena, right?) first of all, six feet five inches isn’t medium height. You should stop looking down on people. Plus, you say you’re attractive. That is just plain wrong. So, you need glasses. 

#Question #3
Hello, respected and wise doctor. There is a girl that I really like (I think), and I will be asking her out three months ago. However, in a discussion with my friends, I have come to the conclusion that I can either have her or a sense of humor. What do I do? How do I choose between the two? Please help.
 -sincerely yours, the superpower.

 
Dear er, superpower,
  Frankly, my dear, we don’t give a damn.
  If anything, this question is rather pointless. You don’t have a sense of humour.
  So, stop worrying. Try smoking, drinking and weed.
 -All the best. The doc.

#Question #4
 I am a 22 year old guy. I am tall and smart. I study in a top engineering college, but whenever I like a girl, soon she gets committed to someone else? I am very confused. Is it because I am too good for them and they get scared? I feel jealous when I see stupid jerks with girlfriends. What should I do? 
 
Ans. Do yourself a favour and have crushes only on lesbians.

Finding My Choclate Factory

By Kartik Gala


Ages come and go while the Wheel of Time turns, unfazed by the tremendous forces of nature or the diminutive attempts of mankind. In one such age, known to us as the age of technology, the Wheel observed as high winds swept into the Deccan Plateau, momentarily interrupting my train of thought as I was pondering over an issue out on the terrace.

I was thinking: happiness is subjective. Surely, Willy Wonka must have felt that he was spreading joy in the world when he declared the release of the Golden Tickets. I was glad that Charlie had the luck to find one in his chocolate bar; it would have been heartbreaking if he hadn’t, since he had bought the bar with all the money he had in the world. But somewhere deep inside, in an untraceable part of my subconscious mind, there was a persistent sense of dejection and suppressed anger. I wasn’t to be blamed; I too was a kid who wanted to see the greatest chocolate factory in the world.

My earnest wish to see the factory was not because of my love for chocolate. The root of my eagerness stemmed from a feeling that I was growing up too quickly for my own liking. Always, I struggled to relate to the popular activities that kids my age indulged in. My friends never tired of the swings or the Cartoon Network. On the other hand, at that time, I felt that I had outgrown that phase of my life a long time ago. Since elementary school, I was fascinated by the literary works of John Steinbeck and Gabriel Garcia Marquez; I found myself getting involved in discussing debatable topics on online forums. To relate to the general notion of normal childhood, I wanted to visit the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory and experience what other children found delight in. The quest to find the child in me became my priority at that point of time. I was bent on harnessing all my energies and channeling the frustration into finding a solution to this dilemma. Little did I know that I would still long for my tour of the chocolate factory later on in my life.

Groaning, creaking, the Wheel of Time turns slowly, lumbering at its own speed. My childhood troubles were buried in the past as college life consumed my time, and I navigated in the labyrinth of exams and campus life, all the while having impending career decisions looming over my head. Time, out of mischief, never let me forget my unfulfilled childhood wish though. Every day, on my way to the graduate architecture research center, I used to cross a small, cozy chocolate shop at the corner of the street. Some days, I used to stop and look through the glass panel at the shiny, extravagant bars of chocolates which are in demand today. At the bottom of the shelf, I would find the modest yet classic design of the Wonka chocolate bar, reminding me of the times when it was the most popular and respectable chocolate around. With my professional education coming to an end, I found it quite silly that I couldn’t forget one incident from my childhood. But the heart doesn’t employ reason, and the sadness of not being on the factory tour stung me even today. 

The Wheel turns at its own will, at its own pace, tirelessly on and on, from the beginning of time to the end, if there ever will be one. During the small speck of time in its relative frame that it observed our age, the Wheel brought about a serendipitous moment for me. One particular day, I read in the newspaper that the Willy Wonka Factory, now an almost derelict industrial house, was about to revamp its entire setup in an attempt to salvage its dying reputation. I refused to be a prisoner of my own past. I was now a respected architect in the city, and pushed my board of directors to acquire the rights to redesign the factory’s production line and refurbish its architecture. As a premier design firm in the country, we landed the rights quite easily, and I was already preparing to give the site a visit before beginning my work. But more than the remodeling, I was exuberant at being given the chance to fulfill my childhood wish.

The Wheel spins unconditionally, causing major changes in the path of this young world of ours, as it had done in many others. It provides people with fortune and opportunity to visit places and fulfill their wildest dreams. As for me, I was found dumbstruck, standing in front of my childhood dream, the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory. The inward swinging gates reminded me of the picture I had painted in my mind of Manderley, from Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca; gigantic and ominous. At the other end of the gate, waiting to see his empire return to its golden days was the elderly Willy Wonka, a person I had only dreamt of meeting as a kid. Even though I was a grown man now, I’m sure nothing is going to ever make me as happy as the moment when he said ‘Welcome kid. Let me show you my chocolate factory. I’m sure you’ll like it.’ Thus began my private tour of the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory, the place where magic turned cocoa beans to delicious chocolate, the place owned by a man as eccentric but large-hearted as they come. 

I don’t need to describe the factory to you, as I don’t want to spoil the fun; all I’m saying is that it’s a fantasy world. I’m counting on the fact that you too will be looking, searching, and yearning for a tour of your own chocolate factory somewhere.

That Woman Inside Of Me





Traditionally, women have been expected to be care-givers, home-makers and a source of happiness and comfort around the house. When young, they’re brought up in shades of pink, given dance lessons, taught how to sing, sew and cook. Along with it, they’re expected to study as hard as they can so that they can get to the best educational institutions in the world. By the time they’re 13, they’re supposed to bid their childhood male friends goodbye, sit properly with their legs crossed, modulate their voices, be mindful of what they think of their clothes and attitude. Get to college, and a few years of living free give you the taste of what life can also be. A few years working. But you hit 25 and you get married off. You’re expected to have kids as soon as possible, then raise them in the proper way, be the glue between families, be the trophy wife.
 
I only have one question.
 
Where did all those dreams go? Did you run out of time? Or did you just dismiss them as the innocence of youth and make friends with what came your way?
Are women ever in control of their lives? First there are parents, and then the husband comes along. It’s a show in which the puppeteer keeps changing while the puppet looks on.
I would blame it all on society. Most men only repeat what they have seen happening in their homes. Moms are expected to wash your clothes, give you food etc. etc. When her time is up, it’s your wife who does it.
 
If that wasn’t enough, Society frowns upon women who don’t marry.  Brands them as deficient or worse, immoral. Sees every male you go out with as a lover. Censors your thoughts, your words, and your clothes.
 
WHY should women conform to these traditional roles? Shouldn’t men have to be equally responsible for the welfare of children? For making the morning tea?
 
Yes, there is a small minority of enlightened men who don’t subjugate women to this modern form of bonded labor. But by and large, the Indian male thinks pretty much in the same way.
 
Why is it that women cannot go solo. That they ‘need’ men. Tell me why. If she needs a man for all the hardware work around the house, there are power-tools and other labour saving devices available in the market to help her. For having kids? Isn’t it her personal choice? She can adopt or opt for sperm banks. If she needs a man for security, then well, we live in a very sad state where a woman cannot be safe in the first place!
 
I’m not against companionship. Of course it’s lovely to have a witness to your life. But why live life like the hours are running out? To jump from one level to another, like a game of Icy Tower.

Who doesn’t want to live free? With no sword of “marriage by 25” looming over her head? Travel the world? Do those things you read about, or saw in the movies? After all, why did you study so much or get a job? To update your resume? To be more in demand in the marriage market?

Maybe some female readers will agree with me on what I say. Some women don’t even think this way. Some of them have got their marriages planned in their heads since they were 6.
 
The woman inside of me, she’s stopped asking me why I don’t listen to her. Why I don’t let go. Why I must be careful about what society thinks of me. Why I need a man by my side.
 
For me, rebellion would be to let go. To be the woman I really am. To not live like a shadow of who I am. To be in control of my life. To not having to bow down to the right time-frames for doing things. To simply be.

****************************************************
I’m sitting in the women’s coach of the metro as I type this. And the lady sitting next to me couldn’t help but read this article. She agrees with me and we had a very lively discussion on what we would do if we didn’t have to be all this :) So hopefully I’m on the right track with this.

A Different Rebellion

By Subrahmanian Namboodiri

re·bel·lion/riˈbelyÉ™n/
Noun:
An act of violent or open resistance to an established government or ruler. The action or process of resisting authority, control, or convention: “an act of teenage rebellion”

 

Rebellion. It wasn’t easy to think of something to write about when it came to rebellion. We live in a time and in a place where we do not face a lot of oppression and resistance is often only left to activists and left wing knob-heads. Something did cross my mind though. Apart from our youth, all those or at least most of us that read this, share something in common. All of us, at some point in our growing years, have had to sit mum and obey. And I don’t mean just do something that we did not want. We’ve had to make a choice that was against our better judgement and listen, most probably, to a parent who thinks that he/she knows best. Yes?  At this point I’m just going to assume you agree with all that I have to say.

Why did we do this? Well, because someone else was in power. There was this time where every bone in my body said that I should abandon studying in college lecture rooms and run away to, oh I don’t know, Ranthambore maybe? Or some South - Indian wildlife sanctuary and pursue what I’ve always wanted to do. I couldn’t, because my folks thought it rubbish and got me to finish that year in junior college, which I failed by the way, and then another because I needed to study and get a degree. Yeah, that was 4 years back. And today, another, albeit successful Jr. college year and four jobs later I still don’t have a degree or a decent job. I did still learn loads between then and now, but I’m sure I would have been a lot happier with no degree and loads of snakes around me instead. Point? I should’ve been allowed to pursue my happiness. As should you. And if any of us end it by screwing up, I think we should be allowed that too.

Why, why, do you want to control where we go. I am not trying to say that it’s oppression. It is, however, suppressing our wants, desires, hell I’d even if it were whims. But the point here, is that we should be given some control of what happens to us. And it’s not only parents. No, there’s lawmakers, educationists, activists even, all of them trying to stop us from heading to wherever we are going and work towards a ‘loftier’ goal. Good of the nation, people, family, ‘your own good’ but all of these reasons need you to curb that creative flair in you. Why? Because art doesn’t pay? Because your dad wants you to take over his business, make something out of the family legacy. Yeah, makes sense doesn’t it. Yeah, it does, in emotional soap operas it does. Remind me to ridicule them when there’s a chance.

Anyway, here’s what, you’re not going to be happy. I cannot, can-not imagine living a sedentary or a cubicle based life. I want to create and thankfully, I now have enough backing me, I can do exactly that. So I’m quitting work and getting a graduation, but for different reasons than what were forced on me earlier. But it shouldn’t have  to wait that long. I have lost 4 valuable, precious years whilst I could have been doing something that would’ve made a difference to me. You cannot let it get to that.

And I think letting those creative juices flood your life is just going to make it so, so much better. You can do the boring bit but I implore you to flex those gray cells and think. Connect those dots on a starry night, design a masterpiece. See how animals can shape up in those clouds. See how pretty women would look without their oh, ahem, *cough* um I meant, pretty woman that can, you know, look prettier in your head. See how those creepers can form intriguing patterns across walls. The cracks in stone can be crevasses that can be as deep as your imagination, the sounds waves can make while crashing on rocks. Adventures you cook up in an idle mind. Oh and one of my favourites, how standing on mosaic tiles looks like your way up in the air. And take it all down and one day when you think you’re ready to put it down on paper or canvas or your neighbours walls, draw, write, sing, but express!

And it’s by flexing those very creative gray cells that this was written:

Lay down your weapons and hush those fighting voices,
The time has come to rebel with more than those two choices.
Take up a pen, a pencil, a can of paint.
And let your eyes follow as your hands go wild and your thoughts go quaint.

Imagine, create, express.
For an idle mind will only invite distress.
And as time winds,
you will loosen your binds.

For with spirit that sets free,
A new rebellion will emerge for all to see,
Changing culture with the thoughts we’d nurture.
A life filled with colour, and bridging divides with fervor.

There shan’t be any reason to fight,
Since we create with all our might.
Thus redeemed of all the gore,
This will become the utopia of lore.


Think, that’s all I ask of those that read this.

A Crushed Rebellion



We as a group, as Indians are a very anti- speaking up kind of nation. We do not raise our voice on anything be it- corruption, animal cruelty, lack of amenities. We are taught as kids to shut up and listen to our elders. Elders are the wise ones, they know better. As we grow up, the elders are replaced by the powerful ones. From the school principal, college principal, boss, local MLA, all the way up to the Prime Sinister. Oops! I mean Prime Minister, form a hierarchy of power. You’re not supposed to speak up against power. And if you do, you are a bad boy and you deserve a spanking!

As a kid, a child develops doubts in his quest to attain knowledge. He turns to his mentor only to be turned down. Asking questions is not really encouraged here. Questioning something means developing a doubt over its authority. You do not ask the “why”! You ask only “what” and you’re supposed to memorize the answer.

A rule is created to keep the herd in line, keep the unruly crowd in check; time passes and the rule attains redundancy but it needn’t be scrapped! Because to scrap the rule, you have to question it and questioning is, remember, forbidden!

In schools, a routine is created, a protocol is given. It’s termed “discipline” and it frequently includes abhorring one’s mother-tongue, cramming lines from a poem that you wouldn’t understand even till your death. Here is where the fear of being wrong is instilled in young minds. There is a minority of teachers who believe in the far-fetched idea of individuality but, they are few and far apart.

As we enter real-life, we find unanswered questions, customs based on sheer lunacy, rules made by the powerful all around us. You enter a railway platform, see a board outside cafeteria which says “Please do not pay more than printed price for the bottled water” but when the owner charges you Rs 12/- for a Rs 10/- bottle, you do not pick up the phone and complain to the authorities, you pick up your wallet and pay up! We are the country where a long waiting queue keeps getting longer even if the nearby counter has a smaller queue. We like to stay with the herd.
 
It’s not like nobody ever speaks up against things here. Oh! We are an enthusiastic lot. It is just that we are too preoccupied ourselves to carry on with the task of “speaking up”. That’s why we invite tenders and sell the right to the ones who are the most jobless. It’s only that these speakers do not necessarily represent us when they speak, they represent lunacy in a different form, they represent power in a different form. They are the untamed, lunatic monsters that we had created to hunt down the tamed powerful monsters. Sadly, they have sided with each other and are now conspiring against us.

The monsters we had created, the wild ones of the society, are involving in eve-teasing, smashing things, boycotting Valentine’s day, looting ballet boxes, murdering honest police officers. They are the rebels we have created. They work against the system, only to empower it. The right kind of rebellion is a mockery of itself. Take Anna Hazare movement for instance, he has rebels, his cause is good but, when it came to the litmus test, it couldn’t hold its own. The fabric that builds today’s rebel in India is tainted.
 
If we really wish to create a rebel with a soul for today’s India, we need to water its plants with the water of yesteryear. A Bhagat Singh, a Chandrashekhar Azad are easy to find, but people who would believe in them? Not so easy. I think we’ve been betrayed enough in the last 50 years to trust again in a rebellion. That is why, as a custom, we don’t speak up, neither do we let anyone.
 
Jai Hind!

Rebel Without A Cause


Religion tells us there’s balance all around us. Opposites that are worlds apart but strangely interdependent. Symbiotic. Good is good because of evil. Opposites provide a frame of reference against which they can be compared. No god without the devil. Yin Yang. No authority then, without rebellion. As simple as that. Then what are we talking about?

Ideally we’d all like perfect harmony and balance all around us. Turbulence is the enemy. Sadly it’s time to wake up. You can’t hold the speedo at 60 throughout the journey. Takes too much effort. Sometimes it reads 62, and on other occasions 57-58. It’s balanced out in the long run and that’s all that counts. We pick our battles. Not because they’re cool but because we need to bring the speedo back to 60. Opposite lock only works after the tail has stepped out. Google it. Rebelling because it’s the “in” thing right now makes as much sense as applying opposite lock to a car moving in a straight line. Opposite to what?

So get over yourself. Your rebellion isn’t for a worthy cause. You aren’t someone’s messiah. Stop kidding yourself. Take the poster of Guevara off your wall. You know nothing about him. Stop saying “peace” all the time. Quit whining. The world is not on your shoulders. No more pseudo suicidal status updates. It’s not that no one “gets you”. It’s that no one cares. Lose the perennial frown. Drop the goth-chick act. Quit moping around so you can realize it’s not you against the world. It never was. So what are we talking about?

We’re talking about that all important balance. We don’t need ten plagues to set things right. An open mind would do just fine. Every stage of evolution involves radical changes. Changes concentrated in and around a select few sections of society or around a select few species. Imbalance. Now those left out have a choice to make. Fight the changes - Rebellion. Or move with the times. Pop culture tells us rebellion is a necessarily evil. Except that it doesn’t. It conveniently leaves out the necessary evil part. It’s what the manipulators don’t tell you that could kill you. You’re told you’re the saviour. You’re the messiah. You’re the soldier of Fortune. But you’re not. You’re the suicide bomber. You’re the evil that makes the devil cringe. You are the ten plagues no one ordered.

You’re parents don’t “get you”? Of course they don’t. You don’t get you! Rebel when your life depends on it. Not because you aren’t allowed in to class without clean shoes. We’re back to square one. We pick our battles. What was once a powerful tool in the hands of the oppressed is now a phase of teenage. Don’t be that guy. Don’t cry wolf at the slightest hint of an obstacle. Man up.

Don’t blame the Ref. You blew the game. Th-e question paper wasn’t tough. You were under-prepared. It’s not always the system’s fault. You’re not the answer. You’re not The One.  Not until you can see green characters scroll down the space in front of you. But then I’m too late. You’re already on the dark side. Ever the rebel. That sense of weightlessness isn’t you mastering gravity. It’s the fumes consuming your consciousness. You’re falling in to an abyss but you don’t know it yet.

You are falling......

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Nishant Boorla
Sarcasm means the world to me. Yeah that's always a good place to start. I watch movies...a lot of movies! Sports nut and a die hard Manchester United fan. Highly opinionated and that shows in my articles.


The Rebel In Me


 8 am: Mom’s shouting at me. Can’t really understand much, too drowsy. She’s harping on about how we kids don’t know the value of time and are too damn lazy. I tell her I slept at 5 in the morning. She says it’s not her fault. Should I tell her that the only reason I sleep late is so she won’t keep poking around when I chat with my friends? Too much effort!
 
9am: Just out of a freaky cold shower and into the smouldering fires of my dad’s temper. My 16 year old sister’s already there, looking like she just got hit by a bus. My dad has the newspaper open. Apparently he doesn’t like the college kids sitting on a hunger strike with Anna. He vents his ire on me, naturally. Somehow the discussion proceeds to how I am wasting my life and am good for nothing! Gee dad! Thanks for the vote of confidence. He finishes with a flourish “Your generation will ruin this country”. I want to point to him that he’s voted in the last 5 governments who screwed the country over. But too much unpleasantness for one morning already!
 
11:15 am: The idiot professor has thrown me out of the class again. Screw him. Screw them all. All I did was to point out that it was only an experiment if we did something new, and not copy instructions from an out dated manual.
 
11:25 am: Outside the college. Couples all around; snogging, chatting, cuddling. If only parents weren’t so uptight about relations, they’d probably be in class now and not bitching about last night to each other. Too much drama for one day! Need to relax. Should get a smoke.
 
11:27 am: I am pissed. Khan chacha, at the thadi, was being harassed by a policeman. He left only after taking his hafta and giving a moral lecture about how he shouldn’t be selling cigarettes to college kids. I wanted to pound that MF and shout at him “At least he’s earning by honest means”. I can’t, so I left a generous amount of change with Khan chacha for the cigarettes. My blood’s boiling now. Will go catch RDB. They decided to switch the morning show DDLJ for it considering all the youth agitation and all. Smart guys!

2 something pm: I sneer after listening to Madhavan’s dialogue about how the youth should join politics and all to improve this country. What an idiot, nothing can save this country.  Few minutes later: I am cheering with the rest of the audience as DJ and his friends kill the Defense minister. Wish someone would kill the real ones too!
 
3:30 pm: I was walking with Priya. She’s super-hot and my best friend. Hopefully I can convince her to be my girlfriend one day. Till then we share our frustrations to each other. Anyways, soon this thulla comes and berates us for behaving indecently in public. The nerve of that bastard! All we were doing was walking hand in hand. He threatens to lock us up. For what MoFo? I am angry now. I just stare straight back at him, till Priya pulls me away. I swear I would have killed him!
 
6:00 pm: Just came back home. I’m early today. Rhea, my sis, is crying. Mom’s taken away her BlackBerry for a week because she didn’t do well in her test or something. My dad’s sitting in front of the TV with a smug look on his face. There’s been some sort of a lathicharge on the agitating students. He tells me that’s how the government should deal with such thugs. I snap. I tell him how he was stupid if he couldn’t see who were actually the thugs and how I wished some of his generation actually grew a pair and did something rather than sitting on their asses. Dad was taken aback. My sister actually smiled for an instant before going back to sulking!
 I walked away before he regained his composure and unleashed a torrent at me. There’ll be consequences later but who cares. That felt so good.

8:30 pm: Time to head down for dinner. The whole family is coming today. Grandparents, uncles, aunts et al. I climb down the stairs in a faded baggy jeans and metal band t-shirt. Rhea’s wearing a rather short skirt. My mom looks scandalized. She’s begging Rhea to go change. My dad’s giving me a disgusted look. Like I haven’t seen that before! The bell rings. It’s show time folks. 

9:30 pm: Rhea’s rebellion worked well enough. Grandma’s giving mom a lecture about how the kids have no values and how they’ve given us too much freedom. I almost choke on the food then. Don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Rhea looks content. For once she’s not at the receiving end of a lecture. Meanwhile my aunt’s fiddling with my long hair and narrating a story about how some “rowdy, long haired boy” on the motorbike nearly crashed into her car. The connection between me and him being the hair! I mumble under my breath that the only reason she got a driving license is because she knew someone who knew someone in the Road Transport Office!

10 pm: We’re waiting for dessert. Someone asks me what I’m planning to do after college. My dad immediately starts of saying how I was a smart boy and would go to some IIM to do his MBA. Once his tirade had finished, I tell everyone that I’m just going to make movies. Everyone turns to look at me. Dad tells me not to act stupid. I tell him I’m not. We argue. Suddenly everyone else is quiet. Then they begin, all together. My grand mom is telling my mom how she’s spoilt us by giving us too much freedom. My aunt is telling anyone who will listen about my long hair. Someone has a problem about “these kids” answering back. And my grandfather is telling my dad how he needs to check our little “rebellion” before it gets out of hand. That’s the final straw. I get up and leave the room. I need fresh air.

11:00 pm: I am driving down the road on my bike at 100 km per hour, showing a sleeping policeman the finger. Feels good to break all the rules for once. The fresh air of my face smells so much like freedom. Of course I’m a rebel. You made me one!

Of Fears, Regrets & Moving On

By Ankit Shrivastava 

The eyes are stoned, the fevered brows are all uptight, reluctant to make any movement and the tiny rivulets of sweat dripping through them are somewhat hesitant and in an unexplained hurry to escape into a non-existential domain. The parched lips are quivering and writhing in desperation to weave a few words. But at the brink, they also falter to silence and get shattered to undecipherable shards and are traveling backwards, surprisingly. With a meteoric speed, they are heading towards a failed heart. Perhaps to bludgeon it with one final blow and put it to an eternal quietness. 

Entwined thoughts gripping the mind are curling around like venomous snakes and rendering every trace of logic, intelligence and intellect, lifeless. For the tiniest and the faintest string of light, veins beholding the grey matter are still rummaging relentlessly but the darkness is insurmountable and worse inexplicable. But the darkness is not literal, it’s rather ethereal. The perimeters that bind this darkness are not visible to anyone but me because it was conceived in my own mind, nurtured inside my own heart and after feeding off me, it has now become inseparable to my soul. And unfortunately it now defines me, justifies my every course, action and inaction for that matter.
Yes, I’m scared. More scared than you can possibly be in the worst of your nightmares and more dreadfully than you can candidly admit. I’ve been scared for as long as I can remember. Sometimes from my elders, sometimes from my teachers, sometimes from my circumstances and sometimes from myself. From the first tentative steps of childhood to the confident stride of adulthood, my feet are still shaky, uncertain and unable to find a steady ground. The innocence and the childishness have withered away with time and a new sense of maturity is taking over the reins but I still find myself cluttered and shackled to my oldest and most unwanted companion. And it isn’t that I have never tried to combat the ever growing shadows of fear. I have, trust me. But the harder I tried, the more intense it became until I dwindled my efforts to that of complete surrender.

 Is my fear unwarranted? Partly yes and partly no. Yes because somewhere in its control over me, I hold myself responsible for allowing it to spread over my psyche for a long time. For just standing quietly in a corner as a mute spectator until it became dangerously powerful. For my own inability to stand up and set a firm foot down on many occasions to prevent its cancerous tentacles from entering my mind. Yes, I became an escapist because I was too scared and meek to do something about it. And I do and will regret for my entire lifetime about the things I didn’t do or didn’t speak when I should have. I would curse my inner self till eternity for fumbling and flickering just because I was gripped by fear. But then there is nothing much I can do than just an empty and futile retrospect about how I’ve been lead by it hitherto.

No because right from the beginning, I was made to believe in the absurd concept of compromises and sacrifices. That elders are always right and to argue with them is tantamount to being blasphemous. That one should tread a path after much deliberation and shouldn’t take too many risks. Very clear demarcations were made between the good and the bad and stepping out of the former was intolerable and unforgivable. Religion and God are meant to be respected and are beyond any question. As all this soaked deeper into my sub conscious, the tiny sprouts of fear started becoming a colossal tree.

 So when did the problems arise?  When my sense of logics conflicted with my beliefs, I started to realize the true nature of a perspective. And that perspective became the womb of the rebel inside me who wasn’t ready to simply believe on things and supposed facts passed onto generations. Who saw every aspect of a situation through the transparent glasses of common sense and refused to get swayed away by idiotic ideologies and was outright blunt and candid in his expression in what he truly believed. He was met with severe threats, reprimands and rebuke for being “rude” and “disrespectful” and was told to adhere to the conventional norms. And in this way a bloodless battle had been waged.

 The rebel would have won had I allowed it to win. It would have clung onto his school of thoughts had I been a little stronger in my approach. If I hadn’t let my fears prey upon me, I would have been somewhat different than what I really am today. When I look at myself in the mirror, the dying rebel still stares accusingly at me, questions me and haunts me in the wistfulness about why I was such a coward. But I can never square my gazes with him as it reminds me of my incompleteness and uselessness as a human being. It plummets me into a deep void of reproach which strangles my conscience with every passing second and when I can’t breathe anymore, it gives me the worst out of its closet. It leaves me to live. Spares me to lead a life that is saddled with a heavy emotional turmoil.

 And that is exactly when I turn away from the mirror and escape like I’ve always done before and move on shamelessly.

The Rebel Generation



Change is an inevitability. Resistance to it, human nature. Rebellion, our method.

What was once must not always be. Culture, as with life, must evolve with time. It is our time now. We are the present, the future is ours. We sit on the side lines no more, while you do continue your antiquated ways. One way or the other, we shall meet our own doom. We seek only your blessing not your permission.

Do not presume to tell us what to do. Our minds are ignited, and thoughts, in flight. Your word counts no more, for we challenge the very basis of your authority. We are not the meek and obedient little kids you once were. We are our own masters, ever the sceptic, ever the believer, always loud, always brash.

Do not take this momentary silence as your victory. You cannot shackle us with your overbearing customs, or your preachy higher-than-thou moral values. Do not presume to suppress our intellect with your pedagogical education. We don’t need you, we have each other. We trip on our feet, and we run our own race.

Do not mollify our anger with empty promises. We are young, not blind. We bring change with every tiny act of defiance. Join us and earn our respect. Oppose us, and we will fight back. We will not submit. We will not be you, all over again! We are the youth of the nation, we are the rebel generation.

Pens, Pencils & Little Joys


By Vishu Bansal
It was a cold afternoon in the dusk of 90s, may be 1999. I had dutifully secured the extra sheets to the main answer book with the thread and was waiting for the final bell. As the teacher shouted “Last 1 minute” I picked up the pencil shreds and tried to see if they could be put together to make some decoration. I always related the shredded pencil’s design to snow-flakes, and joyously discovered one long unbroken red and black string of Natraj’s outer skin. Though the inaesthetic callous me could never bring a single piece of craft out of it, yet the wannabe creative genius made sure that I diligently packed it all in my pencil case.
The bell rang, sheets were collected and I got up. Carrying the board and pencil box under my arms, I walked outside the class to collect my bag. She stood there, having come out from her class, smiling and her eyes twinkling with excitement as her mouth opened to say something.
 
“Hor pencil di lod ni”  (There is no need of pencil anymore)
“Kyon?”  (Why?)
“Fifth class to pen use karde ne.”   (From fifth standard onwards, pen is used)
“Sachhi?”  (Really?)
“Haan. Aappan vadde ho gaye ne.”  (Yes. We have grown up now.)
“Haan. Pen taan vadde use karde ne.” (Yeah. Pens are used only by grown-ups)
“Hor ki. Hun aappan vi karaange.”  (You know right! We will use it too now.)

And we did our little dance of joy. Of having grown up. Of having passed another milestone in turning big. We strode down and joined others on the way to our school buses. Fourth standard had come to a very fair merry end, and soon we were going to use pens. In that spring, apart from buying the new text-books, note-books, brown covers and stickers, I did some new shopping; shiny bright pens. I bought two Foutain pen and a pretty pot of Chelpark Royal Blue Ink. I asked my mother to get a Gel pen too since everyone in class was buying them but she insisted that I should start with a “proper” pen so that my writing shapes up well. And when I walked inside the V-C class that March, I had ushered into a new state of grown-upness.

And over the years I ushered into many more. One by one, I crossed many bars which grown-ups had sanctimoniously reserved for themselves. And today, as I see the wedding pictures of that girl who once told me that pens are not required anymore, I am filled with immense happiness for her, along with the numbing echo of her words from 12 years back, “Aappan Vadde ho gaye ne”. Really we have.

Nothing will get my pencil shreds back; the many that I collected hoping to make some designs out of them. They withered, along with a time when the pride and satisfaction which came by graduating from a pen to a pencil, can’t be brought about today by the finest of appraisals and best of Entrance test percentiles.
 
Good bye Pencil.


A Vend in the Road


 An Insight into the Vending Machine Market and the Neo-Indian Consumer


The Indian economy continues to register respectable growth rates, given the predicament of a sluggish global economy. Consequently, with a substantial increase in the levels of disposable income, consumption trends have also undergone a gradual metamorphosis both in urban and rural India. Urban India in particular has spawned a new generation of educated, dynamic, globally sensitized, highly aspirational and ever burgeoning socio-economic collective that I call the Neo-Indian consumer. Within the age demographic of 15-35 years and drawing upon its predominantly middle and upper middle class background, the Neo-Indian consumer is more receptive to the morphing socio-economic scenario, both on a domestic and global level. For him, consumption is fueled by an amalgam of demand, need, curiosity and comfort. Quality is of vital consequence. This rapidly growing consumer base in an emerging economy propelled by sound free market ideals provides more than a fabulous window of opportunity for companies to suitably position themselves by offering a diverse and demand specific range of products and services. Set in this backdrop, I have chosen to view the Vending Machine market in India through a more discerning lens with an accent on the Neo-Indian consumer profile.



Ever wondered how much potential the Vending Machine that gives you a steaming cup of Coffee at the Railway Station every morning or evening holds? Well, I certainly gave it some thought! The Vending Machine market in India has been around for more than a decade and a half but has shown uninspired growth as such. The initial rudimentary machines gradually gave way to more sophisticated and reliable setups but the market as such failed to take off. However, off late, in the backdrop of the emergence of the Neo-Indian progressive consumer and other favourable socio-economic undercurrents; the market has begun to show great promise. Given the potential target consumer base primed for consumption, sale of products through Vending Machines is touted to reach $ 1 billion by the end of 2012. Estimates suggest that only 12 – 15 % of the entire market has been tapped thus far. Furthermore, a majority of the revenues generated accrue through the sale of hot beverages such as Tea and Coffee and Soft Drinks. This presents Vending Machine manufacturers, operators and FMCG companies as such with a huge opportunity to target a largely untapped market.

Automated Vending Machines in particular are becoming increasingly popular in the Indian context. These compact setups that are generally 4 – 6 ft. in height, occupy an area of 4 – 6 ft. These cost Rs.1,40,000 – 10,00,000; depending upon the level of refrigeration and order customization. These are generally stocked with a relatively diverse product range inclusive of packaged snacks, food items, candy, confectionary, beverages, stationery and certain other high consumption FMCG items. Predominantly installed at Railway Stations, Airports, Colleges and other Educational Institutions, Petrol Stations, Malls, Offices and Hospitals; the Automated Vending Machine presents a lucrative option for market players to effectively cater to an existential latent demand.

So, what is it that makes these machines a hugely viable and enticing proposition? The following are the merits of Vending Machines as efficient marketing channels –

  • The Neo-Indian Consumer Factor: For starters, the emergence of the Neo-Indian consumer driven by changing lifestyle and consumption patterns and the percolating consumerism effect has created a burgeoning market and increased demand
  • Greater Distribution: Manufacturers and companies alike benefit by utilizing Vending Machines as an efficient distribution channel for their products by appropriately locating them in spaces liable to see high footfall from the target demographic
  • Increased Market Penetration: At a fraction of the cost incurred, these machines provide companies with the chance to penetrate new markets without the hassle of hiring too much labour. These machines bring the company one step closer to the eventual consumer; thereby, serving an intermediary role
  • Enhanced Visibility: Companies willing to sell their products through Vending Machines stand to gain from increased visibility in an already cluttered market. Hence, the machines not only serve as a distribution unit but also serve as a display unit; creating enhanced visibility and brand recognition
  • Effective Advertisement Platform: In addition to just merely offering products for sale, the machines also serve as an effective advertisement vehicle; thereby, aiding companies to establish a more holistic interface with the consumers and ensure higher brand recall in the long run
  • Silent Salesman: Bereft of any human intervention whilst selling, the machines negate the adverse implications of low productivity as a consequence of employee leave, holiday or strikes. These machines function 24 hours a day, 365 days a year serving customers
  • Guaranteed Quality: Vending Machines store quality products in a quality, safe, secure and hygienic environment. This also reduces the chances of adulteration and duplication that can hurt the prospects and credibility of the company per se.

Now despite the many advantages that this avenue presents to multiple stakeholders; the market is fraught with myriad challenges that have hindered its progress and may continue to do so unless addressed at the earliest. Some of these developmental impediments include –

  • Availability of relatively cheap labour that fuels the proliferation and operations of Stores and Canteens. These serve as indirect competition
  • Lack of usage despite access to automated machines owing to absence of technical know-how, trust and other psycho-social variables
  • Issues pertinent to currency recognition; prices of products within the country is such that making payment through coins is inconvenient and unfeasible at times. A proper currency recognition system which accepts and gives back currency in both notes and coins is vital. Also, alternate payment channels via cards and mobiles could be explored later
  • Threat posed by vandalism and inconsiderate usage
  • Lack of regular repair and maintenance and replenishment of these machines can render them unfit for operation; thereby, undermining the entire endeavour

Indubitable is the fact that the Vending Machine market in the country as well as other emerging economies such as China, Mexico, Brazil and South Africa is poised for significant growth in the years to come. However, the industry will be able to fulfill its latent potential only if the aforementioned challenges are taken cognizance of. It will come down to handling the Neo-Indian consumer transition from curiosity to convenience to habit driven consumption through Vending Machines. What it boils down to is whether the market players are able to leverage their core competencies with a strong customer orientation and expand market coverage in the future.

A Vend in the Road is certainly here. We just have to tread on it productively now.

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Pradyut Hande
The Writer is presently pursuing his Bachelors in Business Administration at NMIMS, Mumbai. He attempts to address myriad issues of both domestic and global consequence, ranging from Business and Economics to Geopolitics...from Sports to Arts and Culture.

Union Budget 2012-13

Sachin Tendulkar’s incredible achievement yesterday might not have been enough to save India in the match, but it certainly did save Pranab Mukherjee from a lot of public scrutiny over his budget. Yes, people! The Union Budget was presented yesterday, but don’t worry you didn’t miss much. 

With the government tottering, and Mamata Banjerjee bullying the Congress left, right and centre, not much was expected from the budget. And the budget doesn’t disappoint. For a neutral there isn’t much to criticize in the budget, except that it doesn’t do enough. 

The Fin Min started by stating that the last year was “a year of recovery interrupted”. It is an understatement beyond belief. The government fell incredibly short of almost all the targets. The GDP which supposed to grow at 8.5% in the fiscal grew only at 6.9%. Inflation, which was supposed to come down by August 2011, was still in double digits till December and stood rather high at 6.9% in February. Due to high volatility and uncertainty in the market, the govt. could not raise even 50% of its disinvestment targets. And worse, the fiscal deficit which was supposed to come down to 4.6% of GDP, currently stands at 5.9% of GDP. 
If the numbers tell a sorry state of affairs, the actual condition of the government is even worse. The comple­­te lack of decision making ability and the haphazard manner in which they’ve gone about their business, as demonstrated in the case of FDI in retail, has left industry and investors bewildered and uncertain. 

In his penultimate budget before the General Elections in 2014, the Finance Minister had his last chance at bringing about some of the reforms that he has been harping about since the beginning of his tenure. But he has decided to play it safe. His budget ensures that there is no repeat of the debacle that was the Railway Budget. 

Pranab Mukherjee also talked about “taking hard decisions” and “faster, sustainable and more inclusive growth” as India enters the first year of its Twelfth Five Year Plan.     

Some of the key highlights of the budget are as follows

  •  GDP is expected to grow at 7.6% in the coming fiscal.
  • Headline inflation expected to moderate further in next few months and remain stable thereafter.
  • Fiscal deficit to be reduced to 5.1% of GDP in the coming fiscal year.
  • Proposed amendments to the Fiscal Responsibility and Budgetary Management Act.
  • Subsidies to be kept under 2 per cent of GDP in 2012-13. Over next 3 year, to be further brought down to 1.75 per cent of GDP. Subsidies related to administering the Food Security Act will be fully provided for.
  • Direct Tax Code to be implemented at the earliest after discussions. Goods & Service Tax to be implemented retrospectively from August 2012
  • 30,000 crores to be raised through disinvestment. At least 51 per cent ownership and management control to remain with Government.
  • During Twelfth Plan period, investment in infrastructure to go up to 50 lakh crore with half of this, expected from private sector.
  • Tax free bonds of 60,000 crore to be allowed for financing infrastructure projects in 2012-13.
  • Income tax exemption limit raised to Rs.2 lakh to provide relief of Rs.2,000; 20 per cent tax on income over Rs.10 lakh, up from Rs.8 lakh.
  • Deduction of up to Rs.10,000 from interest from savings bank accounts.
  • Withholding tax on external commercial borrowings reduced from 20 per cent to five per cent for power, airlines, roads, bridges, affordable houses and fertiliser sectors.
  • External commercial borrowing of up to $1 billion permitted for airline sector. External commercial borrowings permitted to low-cost housing sector. 
  • Service tax and excise duty increased to 12% from 10%.
  • Introduction of white paper on Black Money soon.

Summary
As a common man, all these details might not interest you. So I’ll try and break it down for you. The tax limit has been raised, which mean you save some money. But the increase in service tax and excise duty means everything becomes more costly. Except for a few services, 107 services will be taxed. 

ACs, Gold jewellery, Refrigerator, Luxury cars, Air travel, Telephone bills, SUVs, Cigarettes, Branded retail garments, Eating out at restaurants, Hotel accommodation, toiletries, cosmetics, soft-drinks, steel, cement; all are more expensive now! 

Cinema and films, LCDs and LEDs, imported bicycles, housing society charges, LPG
mobile phones,  school education, iron ore equipment, medicines for treating cancer and HIV, processed food, iodised salt, solar power lamps, LED bulbs, natural gas, desktops/laptops are all cheaper now!

Final Word

The budget is not bad. I’ve read reactions from a whole lot of people about how there is nothing is this budget for the aam aadmi. None of those people are aam aadmis. The masses which make up this country are majorly people in the villages and lower sections of the society. The increase in agricultural credit and full food subsidies should help people. It is true, however, that the government’s focus is not the aam aadmi but the macroeconomic environment of the country. The move to curb subsidies at 2% is a commendable one. Tax free bonds for infrastructure are a necessity. Allowing external borrowing will bring much needed relief for the aviation industry. Reduction is price of mining equipment is certainly a good decision. India has vast reserves of coal and iron and yet these two goods constitute a large part of our import bill. It is time India started relying on its own reserves. The hike in service tax and excise duty will definitely cause prices to increase but considering the fiscal deficit facing India, there are hardly any options left.

Of course the budget does leave a few things unsaid. For example there is no definite roadmap for how we are going to achieve 7.6% growth. The estimates seem exaggerated with demand expected to slow. The target of 5.1% of GDP is itself a disappointing one, especially considering the populist budget to be expected next year with elections looming.
All in all, this budget is not aimed at making anyone happy but at ensuring that no one is outraged. The real question is whether it will be enough for the Indian economy? And for the Indian people. 


 

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