Silent Night

It is past 11 PM. Most of the people have gone to bed, most of the lights in the neighborhood has been turned off. In this semi-darkness ambiance, I walk out into my dark terrace and stand at the fence. I enjoy doing this every night after dinner.

Silent night has certain calming effect if you allow it in.

While standing in the darkness at my terrace, surrounded by few other buildings, I stretch my neck upwards and look at the small part of the sky that is visible to me. I see the moon at the far end, and the stars around it. Sometimes I just keep looking at the moon and realize why moon makes sky look so beautiful. And as a poet would have said to his lover, "the way the moon makes sky so much more beautiful, you, my love, make my life so much more beautiful."

Sometimes I walk out of my apartment and on to the dark street. I casually stroll around, taking in the stillness of the night and calming down, feeling relaxed within. I hear the sounds in the silence of the night, an occasional barking of dogs, or honking of horns demanding the watchman to open the gate. I feel the sudden movement of the gentle cool breeze, breaking the monotonicity and stillness of the night. I feel relaxed looking at the deserted roads lighted in parts by the streetlights, at the closed shops that was doing business till even an hour ago, the blinking yellow traffic light that meant I didn't have to wait for it to turn red to cross the road. The world seems to have stopped for a moment so I feel that I can also stop running, stop thinking, stop worrying for a while.

Leftovers

Remember the lunches and dinners at Hogwarts? Magically, Dumbledore made the food appear in huge utensils, and after the stipulated time, Dumbledore made the remaining food disappear. Ah, if only this could be done in reality!

In my college, NBH mess and Yuktahaar follow the rule that every person who has a meal there must wash his/her own plate. I find this as a helpful rule because, firstly people will have lesser leftovers in their plate and secondly, if they dispose their own leftovers and in the process look at the waste container, they'll feel disgusted and leave less leftover!
But eating in NBH/Yuktahaar isn't the reason I learnt to leave a clean plate after every meal. I just did, can't remember since when though. In my childhood, I used to leave leftovers many times and also disposed off my own leftovers and didn't really mind doing it. Since my second year I have considerably reduced food wastage and not because of any startling/shocking facts I might have read, I just did. And believe me when I say this, leaving a clean plate is quite satisfying.
Leftovers almost always happen, but leftovers in one's plate is under our control. Personally, I keep in mind the amount of food I eat everytime and take care not to take more than that in my plate and if I miscalculate, I stuff myself with the extra food! :D This helps me leave a clean plate everytime and hence maintain this habit. Perhaps, that's why I've been able to finish Hyderabadi Chicken Biriyani or Dominoes medium Cheese Burst everytime !!

P.S. - When I stayed at home, I relished the after party leftovers, especially chicken dish(es) or some other tasty dish(es), and almost everytime wished some leftovers be left because they were so tasty !! :D
P.S. - We must inculcate the good habit of finishing everything on our plate. Money may be able to buy food, but it can’t grow food, nor can it substitute the hard work of thousands of farmers. Wasting food is not a sin, its a blunder!

Speling Mistake

You're reading an article. Each next line keeps your interest afloat. You're excited about the content you've read and eager to read more. Out of nowhere, your smooth ride hits a bumpy speed breaker... spelling mistake!
'Dictation' part of the English language period was the scariest part to me. Teacher spoke out the words, and we had to write them down and then submit it to her for correction. I always wished that 'dictation' never happen, but now that I recall I do remember that I also wished I get all the spellings correct. Perhaps that's what keeps me from making spelling mistakes and catching one if it exists. Perhaps that's what pisses me off when I see one.
On my second visit to Salarjung museum, I had a startling revelation. I found spelling mistakes in many labels, especially in the halls displaying cutleries, and weapons. A few errors may creep in, but they were more than few.
Funny thing about spelling mistakes: Not all arrangements of wrong spellings would bother you, only few, as per my personal experience. Especially the ones which look silly. Writing a diary as dairy changes the whole meaning, or field written as feild. Such spelling mistakes can be missed so its not a bother... but writing habit as habbit can be identified and irritating to a person who reads rather slowly and can pick up such mistakes or to someone who reads fast and has a keen eye.
Typos, which is a byproduct of writing through keyboards, aren't a serious issue while casual chatting or exchanging information, but in final draft for a paper or article to be submitted for publication can really bring down the image of the piece of writing. I have seen spelling mistakes in some well written research papers.

P.S. - Wouldn't it bother you if your name's misspelt in some certificate that's given to you?

Happy Holi

Holi has following salient features:

1. Everybody looks quite the same, i.e., easily unrecognizable.

2. You can play with water, colors, mud etc. and others would be happy about it, unlike those toddler days.

3. You could deface/dirty anyone and that person won't really mind!

(bura naa maano, holi hai OR Don't mind, its Holi)

and many more...

For all my btech years, I happily avoided Holi celebrations in IIIT-H campus. But today when Ninja and Shashank came to take me for Holi celebrations, I couldn't really refuse. This would be my last year in college, my last holi as a college student so I decided to celebrate it for once. And it was fun. I now wonder how much fun it would have been if I had celebrated it with all my batchmates during the last four years. But, as they say, better late than never.

Shashank had asked me to prepare for the worst, i.e., wear an old t-shirt and that vest may not be worn. I changed into the t-shirt of the felicity my batch organized. And my dear juniors and friends tore my t-shirt, and then the vest I wore inside it. But it was fun getting one's t-shirt ripped and torn off. I felt more into the mood of Holi after that!

The mud party wasn't as bad as I had imagined. Nitin, Shashank, Abhinav and others put me in the puddle of mud water, then put mud and water on me, rolled me over the mud. With the mud party, I had officially celebrated my first Holi in IIIT-H!

I did avoid dipping into the tumbler of colorful dirty water, and used the hose pipe for direct water supply from a big water reservoir.

Just a passing thought: Holi and Halloween are similar in some ways... they sound similar, in Halloween people wear costumes and mask their face, in Holi people wear color on their clothes and mask their face with colors. Also, people are generally unrecognizable in both.

P.S. - Today before Holi celebrations, for the first time I solved some of many clues in crossword puzzle with Sashidhar.

Bowing and Touching Feet

Bowing and touching feet of elders and teachers has been an integral part of Hindu culture. I believe that bowing and touching feet is the greatest gesture of respect one can show. Sadly, I don't feel like bowing and touching feet.
My parents, especially my father often make it a point that I touch feet of elders in our family. And its only for guys to do so, not for daughters, still don't know why! I forget to touch feet because I don't feel like, and prior to meeting the elders, my parents remind me that I have to touch their feet. :D
I have never touched feet of my parents, I don't know why, sometimes I feel guilty about it, other times I feel my parents understand me and I feel grateful about it. I don't have any problem with touching feet but it doesn't come naturally to me.
In a social gathering, I have to remind myself to touch feet of elders of the age of my grandparents, and shake hands with others, else I forget what to do! I become a dud in a social gathering, especially among strangers, and I hate that.
I somehow tend to respect those who touch feet of elders, because its the greatest gesture of respect one can show.
Bowing had been there in other cultures, but bowing and touching feet is a part of Hindu culture and its one of many things I love about Hindu culture!

P.S. - It is said in Hindu Culture that if someone touches your feet, you are obliged to bless that person! So beware, don't let anyone whom you don't wish to bless, touch your feet. :D Something of this sort happened in Mahabharata, but I can't seem to recall what!

Non-sink spitters

Ewww... I hate them, no I loathe them, whichever is more intense, actually both !!
Imagine walking on the street, a moderately crowded one and suddenly you see a spurt of red spit out of the mouth of a person about to walk past you, and a red blotch on the street where you might have kept your next step.
I have, and I am really delighted and relieved to say this, never been a casualty under these circumstances. But I fear that someday, I or the spitter might decide to increase pace of walking, then... anyways, the spitters on a locomotive, mostly on a bike scare me more because their spit might fly in an undecided direction...
Use a sink, or toilet. Spitting in a dustbin is also disgusting.
I understand there's a need to spit, once in a while but as far as I can remember, the spitters I have seen casually spit on road while walking, as if spitting was like any other activity for them. No wonder Indian roads remain defaced.
At least think of those poor who sleep beside the road at night, think of the workers who clean the road and the pavements, think of that disgusting feeling you create in every onlooker's mind.
God is watching you non-sink spitters... and I'm sure He also doesn't like this behavior. :D

P.S. - Paan is the main reason for people to spit... have sweet paan, why to have tobacco paan and spit later! Get high on other drugs or smoke it instead! :P

Pencil and Pen

When in 5th class I got my first pen to write, I was quite excited.
Looking at elders writing with pen made me wonder as to why kids have to write with pencil. A pencil felt kind of inferior in front of and in comparison to a pen. When asked, my mother replied as if she had an answer already prepared, "Anything written with a pencil can be rubbed off with an eraser", and she wrote something, then rubbed it with an eraser, "but something written with a pen can't be. You're learning to write and your handwriting is neither neat, nor stable.
My first pen was a fountain pen. Filling ink in a fountain ink pen was fun, I like(d) Chinese fountain pens. The older I grew, the less I felt the need to write with a pencil, as it had been replaced with a pen. All my daily writing work was now done in pen.
I wondered why did I had to write with a fountain ink pen and not ball-point pen, to which my mother replied, "to get a better grip on your handwriting." Later I tested ball point pen and realized that she was telling the truth. I felt like I could write faster with it but couldn't get a good grip.
At present I use Cello Technotip and it works best for me. I also tried Parker ballpoint and ink pens but didn't really like them much.
After writing for ballpoint pens for some years, writing once in a while with a fountain ink pen feels good, takes me back to those days in 5th class.
Pencil didn't leave my life completely. I used it to make drawings in subjects like biology, and underline in textbooks. I started appreciating pencil since my 9th class because I had lost the luxury of erasing the contents of my writing. Ink erasers are available, yes, and I have used the 'nondust' one, but they work best on ink pen writing and I use ballpoint pens. Besides they don't erase as neatly as a pencil mark can be erased.
Now you may argue in defense of pen that it can write on skin and pencil can't, and I might argue in defense of pencil that one can write keeping pencil upside down, but that can't happen while using a pen!
Well, in conclusion, I use both the pen and the pencil and their combination provides me with a fine range of services.

Mosquitoes - The sleep inhibitors

About our very dear companions from old times, mosquitoes, if there's anything that concerns me, perhaps more than being a malaria patient, is getting disturbed in my sleep.
Imagine watching a beautiful dream, and the verge of something incredible, you feel a bitter sting that pulls you away from the dream and into reality as drowsy yourself, only to discover a mosquito sucking your blood. Calling names and abusing won't help, so saving one's energy and efforts to plan and get rid of these sleep destroyers would be a better thing to do.
Mosquitoes have always been there and humans haven't been able to get rid of these vectors. Since the dawn of my life, I've noticed mosquitoes come out of their hideouts/abode during power cuts, or during late evening/night. Other times, they don't seem to exist at all. Hence, their work time coincides with our rest and sleep time. This is what makes their presence a serious problem for us.
Good Knight, All-Out etc. fail during power-cut. Tortoise, Mortein mosquito coils save the night, but their presence is more unhealthy than the former.
Mosquitoes are most vulnerable while sucking out blood or just after that when they start with a slow flight. So, be vigilant and attack, crush it. You might see your own blood flowing out from the mosquito.

P.S. - Mosquitoes are quite like vampires, only that they suck blood from anywhere, and are seldom instantly fatal.
P.S. - Would training mosquitoes to suck out human blood for blood donation camps work out?
P.S. - For each person there exists or existed one mosquito sharing the same blood. :D

Fakka (F grade)

Two grades that hold a special position in the grading system: 'A' and 'F', the two extremes... sadly I tasted both in my btech days!
Being in IIIT-H, one gets used to study a few days before exam, not attend classes when attendance is not compulsory and still sail through the exams... everything that I got used to bounced back at me like a sucker punch the day I got the call from Mohit, telling me that I had got F in a course. I felt numb but the uneasiness within felt bitter, painful like a snakebite. I was in Srisailam at that time with my father and visited the temple next day, but the uneasiness remained.
On returning to college a couple of days later I learned about the efforts other students in similar situation had taken but the F was to remain, no change possible.
But it doesn't matter now... one F shook me from within, I felt colder than in those winter nights, the As and A-s felt so insignificant before that F, F felt bigger in size... sigh!
The issue is no longer about CGPA, or doing a course again, but the presence of that F, the message it carries makes it a curse symbol on one's grade sheet... can't blame F, it is being used by us humans for such purpose...
I can now understand how a person must feel after getting a F, I now understand why students who once get a F lose interest in academics because I am one of them now. I'm not ashamed or sad, but rather now I feel I have gained another experience, another feather in my hat.
I haven't told my parents, nor do I intend to because its not a pleasant thing to tell and I now don't have enough courage to face the disappointment in their voice over the phone...

P.S. : Why not remove courses with F, W grades from list of courses taken by the student, how does it matter? The student hasn't passed it, it doesn't matter... he is not related to the course, it holds no significance in his life... why torture him by reminding him that he couldn't go through the whole course! :)

Static electricity

I walked towards my lab, extended my hand to hold the handle on the door and as my fingers touched the rim of the handle, I felt slight tingling shock and I pulled back my hand. Then carefully, I touched the handle with tip of my finger, ready to pull back my finger in case I felt the shock again!
This has been happening to me for a month now. It has happened so much and so frequently that when I didn't receive that shock today, I felt a bit disappointed. I extended my hand with same consciousness and touched it, expecting to receive a tingling shock but all I felt was a slightly cold handle of a door. Seems hard to believe that I learned to enjoy the shock!
Initially I did give few laughs to others in the lab when instead of touching the handle with my hand, I first brushed it with my t-shirt or my bag or a book or something else available with me. Few times when someone touched my t-shirt from behind or brushed against it, they did feel the static electricity and I too felt it, a faint clicking kind of sound...
Strangely, I experience the static electricity phenomena only in the lab in which I work!
P.S. Someone told me that his neighbour (also a student) when he was in Kota, used to practice some Chinese martial arts and hence could collect some amount of energy like static electricity in his hands... quite fascinating! But the guy had to stop practicing the art for safety of himself and people around him!

Catching up

All my life I have been changing places of residence because my father got posted every 2 or 3 years to a different city or town as per the Defence force policy, whatever that be. I have made new friends, met some old ones in a different and new place few years later and visited many places in India. Among other troubles in changing places every few years is meeting old friends in a new place few years later. The friendship in 2nd standard can't be reprise in 5th standard or 8th standard with the same essence and feelings. Things change, people change and so does other things in life and in society. Meeting an old friend and deciding to do some catching up can be a bit awkward sometimes, but could be fun in some other cases. It depends on the kind of friendship and the changes that each friend has undergone. Some people even avoid the "catching up" part just to prevent the awkwardness that they may experience.
As my personal experience, now a days I am not or will not be as comfortable with some of my old friends, as I was some 5 or 6 years ago. I or he/she might expect some things from those bygone days from the other person but it may not happen. While with some other friends, the essence of those old days is still there and the friendship with same flavor is reprise with few new flavors added.
Few of my school acquaintances with whom I hardly talked while with them in school, became my good friends after we met few years later at some other place. Its strange but if I had stayed in the previous place for few more years, then that person and I wouldn't have become friends at all.

P.S. I observed something interesting in my life that I met an old friend from a school before my previous school every year since my 6th class, i.e., my stay in Bhopal till 12th class, i.e., my stay in Jalandhar.

Please don't curse anyone.

Today at the dinner table in OBH-GF mess, one of my friends asked me a favor. He asked me to get him "kheer" in a glass. I might have got that for him, but for some reason I thought that he could have got the kheer for himself. Little did I know the implication of my action.
He took it to heart (i.e., he took it seriously) and cursed me. :(
Now a curse is as bad as your belief in it. A curse might be dismissed as a form of superstition by many so called "educated" or "progressive" people, but I believe in the power of curse. And personally I have witnessed the menace of curse.
I don't know how bad will my friend's curse affect me. The power of curse depends on how strongly the person feels about the curse, while cursing. Since we are a part of cosmos, we also have a small part of its energy and we also have the power to influence things around us. Blessing and cursing are some of the unseen forces that can affect the recipient's life manifoldly. All this might sound kiddish and absurd, but trust me, it happens. Most of the time we don't notice it and dismiss the bad happening as a part of life. But sometimes its not just the part of life, it's an aftermath of a curse, a silent curse perhaps.
Curse is like an e-mail, once you have pressed the "send" button, the e-mail can't be prevented from reaching the other person's mail account. (disconnecting the internet is not applicable in this case :P)
So, please don't curse anyone. Use your wisdom. Sometimes, why should a small mistake pay a heavy price of devastating curse!

The Biking Experience

Day before yesterday was my first time experience of riding a motor-bike (bajaj discover). I have had some experience of riding a scooty (two wheeler non-geared), a scooter (two wheeler geared), and a maruti (four wheeler geared) but the bike thing was for the first time. And bike won hands down among all the vehicles I've driven. The best part of bike was the sense of stability and control that one feels while sitting on the bike. Second thing is the gear system, which is easier than a scooter and a maruti. Today was my third day and apart from the occasional first gear jitters, or rather clumsy handling of first gear, everything else was great. Another great thing about a motor-bike is its fast pick-up.
P.S. - I still fear the cross-roads and the U-turns :(
P.S. - If you think driving on Pune roads is easy, its' not. :P

Apollo 11 a.m.

Yesterday morning, I had gone to Apollo Hospital for donating blood. It was the first time that I was going for blood donation. I was excited and a bit nervous. A few of my college seniors and I left for the hospital and reached there at 11 a.m., hence the title (I know, its a lame one!).
I was strongly advised to have good breakfast before leaving, but I had only a bottle of flavored badaam milk.
After filling the form (a formality), while I sat waiting for my turn for blood test, my mind recalled my previous experiences of blood tests and the pain when the sharp pricky metal piece was pricked into my fingertip, and the blood that used to ooze out when the pricked finger with the tiny hole was pressed. The pain was not much and watching the oozing out of blood was quite amusing.
I was glad I was called for the blood test, because I had to wait for half an hour after my mental tour of past experiences, during which I was just reading a couple of small posters on the walls which mentioned the precautions to be taken after blood donation.
The person doing the blood test took my finger and started rubbing a piece of cotton soaked in some liquid. I told myself, "this is it. This finger would be pricked with some metal piece and then the blood would ooze out." I felt my finger moving a little backwards, just a tiny but a gradual twitch. He again rubbed the liquid soaked cotton on that finger, and he used something which didn't look like the pricky metal piece I was used to. I didn't feel anything and was waiting for him to use that metal thing. He asked me to leave. I realized he was done and a tiny sample of my blood had been taken in that thing which he'd used to prick my finger and surprisingly, I didn't feel anything.
I went back and sat, waiting... a few minutes I felt slight pain in that finger and saw a tiny cut. The blood test was nicely done.
So now I felt more comfortable.
My seniors started talking, chatting just like that. One of them said, "Once it happened so that one of our batchmates, went to donate blood. After the blood donation thing, when he got up from the bed, he fainted." They all started grinning. I also grinned, slightly. He continued, "Later it happened so, that he had to be given 3 bags of blood." and they all started laughing, and I also joined in. He further continued, "As a result, one of our professors, said, 'we only need positive blood donors'."
I thought that since I'd not had much as my breakfast, what if I fainted?! One of the seniors told me that they're experts and they do it nicely.
For the blood test, I was called in with a couple of my seniors. I sat in the middle chair. The AC was giving me slight shivers. They checked everyone's BP. They started taking blood from the two seniors. I saw the whole procedure on one of the senior. I saw the long, thick pipe like needle with a distinct opening. I'd never imagined myself to be pricked with such a thick needle. Some other lady came and checked my BP, again. One of my seniors was done with his donation. The guy came again and checked my BP, again. He asked, "Are you nervous, or anxious?" "Is this your first time as a blood donor?" "Your BP is too high for taking blood, you relax for sometime, then we'll check your BP again and if its stabilized, then we would take the blood."
I went out, and told the reason. That guy took me to the doctor and she got worried after she heard that I had 150/90 BP. She looked concerned, "You must be anxious, since this is your first time, but its okay. You relax for sometime."
I tried to reason with her, the guy who drew out the blood, and my seniors that it might have been the AC, but of course it made no sense. I later realized that it might have been the long thick pipe like needle. My seniors (the ones who'd already donated the blood) were sipping frooti in front of me, which they'd got because of the blood donation thing, and I said to myself, "I also want one, please take my blood too."
I sat in a separate cabin and tried to relax. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, while sitting. I tried one of the relaxation techniques I'd recently read on the net. When I opened my eyes, I felt relaxed, but being in a hospital, due to the hospital environment, I lost it within a few seconds. But all I wanted was to donate the blood, that my journey from IIIT-Hyd. to Apollo be a success.
I was called again for a BP test and this time, though it was still high, it had fallen within the manageable range (140/90). The guy searched for my veins, then rubbed the liquid soaked cotton over that area, and then inserted the thick pipe like needle into the vein. The pain was negligible and I was happy, and relaxed. I was given a ball to press, so that the blood be transferred into the blood bag. I pressed the ball but after sometime I ran out of energy and I pressed the ball gently, less frequently, with lesser energy. After I was done, I sat there for 10 minutes, then I got the frooti (finally!) and then I didn't rest much in the separate cabin meant for resting purpose.
Everyone asked me if I was ok, including the lady doctor. Ah! I love that attention one gets, but sometimes it gets frustrating, makes you feel like a 10 year old kid. I assured everyone that I was fine!
I did feel a little drained out of energy, especially in my legs, but slowly everything felt normal. Back in the sun, while waiting for the vehicle, I felt nice. I don't like AC.
Talking of blackout, I had a blackout while traveling in train once, but that's a different story.
I liked the experience, but that high BP thing shouldn't have happened. I wasn't anxious as such... it was the AC

P.S. I think the liquid in which the cotton was soaked was probably a local anaesthesia or combination of anesthesia and antiseptic kind of thing... don't know much about it.
P.S. These bloodbags look really cool. I saw the blood taking guy opening their cover and making them ready for use.
P.S. The Apollo hospital looked like some airport kind of place from inside, and had something on its wall on the outside, which made it look like a museum from outside. Interesting place.