I have this theory.
Time works differently here at MICA. I’m no physicist, but I guess it’s all that Einstein said about relativity and perhaps much more. I feel that three months here can be equivalent to living a year. There’s so much happening around us, to an extent that we feel every moment. And while this can be a great thing when it comes to accumulating a wide spectrum of colourful laughter-filled memories that we have;
at times, this might seem to be more of a curse than a blessing.
It goes without saying that, PGP1, you’ll have those cruel moments in the upcoming weeks. Some of you might even be experiencing them right now. Go through those moments, try not to let them affect you. Shake off the worst of it and carry on. In a bid to give you lot some clarity about the week and the sheer adultness of summer internship life, Kajol decided to embark on a mini-project which we hope will entertain you and put things in perspective.
For the rest of MICA, well, another semester is coming to an end. And this is where the other part of my theory takes place. We live life to the fullest, but we don’t realise it until end-term deadline ‘gentle reminders’ start cropping up in our inboxes, and before we know it we’re frantically running around getting things done whilst booking tickets back home, all the while wondering where did all the time go.
It’s always an abrupt wake-up call to reality.
Sometimes it’s welcome, most of the time we just pray for the incessant ticking of the clock to just stop.
I think it’s time for me to stop my rather amateurish attempt at philosophy and get straight to the point. We have a brilliant issue for you guys this time around. The responses have been overwhelming! Thank you for all the love. And please note, if you don’t see your work this time around, look out for subsequent issues. We don’t leave anyone behind.
Adios for now.
P.S. (And only because I couldn’t resist letting go of this opportunity.)
You’ll always have somebody to ‘lean on’.
Short and Sweet (Short Stories)
Takes a few relaxed steps towards the pavement and stops. Lifts the black handle of his suitcase, pulls it up and places it firmly on the boardwalk. Adjusts the sleeves of his navy blue blazer, puts on his aviators and starts walking. The suitcase’s wheels create a slight buzzing sound. With one hand holding the suitcase and other tucked casually in his jeans’ pocket, he walks on as the sun sets behind him. The orangish yellow light is getting darker and the air is getting cooler by the minute. As he walks peacefully into the looming night, there is a sense of calmness around him.
“Who are we really? What are we? What is real and what is not? Should we believe in what we are told or should we listen to our inner voice? Is my inner voice the same as everyone else’? Do they even have an inner voice? These questions have intrigued me since almost 12 years now. I see and feel things in a different way. Maybe my reality is different from others’.
He takes out his ID Proof from his brown sider bag and gives it to the security guard at the gate. The guard looks at the ID and the looks at him and lets him enter the airport.
But I’m sure they don’t know what I know. Yet they think I am just like them.”
He sneers as he makes his way into the airport.
“Life is strange and wonderful, yet unfair. Human beings, the most advanced species in this world, can’t master a simple thing like flying. Birds can. Even insects can. But humans can’t. Or maybe we can and it’s just that we don’t know it yet. There might be a place where all our abilities come to the surface. Where we can truly be what we are. Where no one has any masks. They are what they are. They live in a truth which is haunting yet beautiful.
But, no one has ever returned to tell the truth. Till now.”
He checks in with a warm smile. Submits the suitcase to the cargo bay, takes his boarding pass and moves towards the lounge. Buys a quick coffee and leaves the change to the barista. He is swift and precise in his movements. Gets on the travellator and gently sips his coffee. Something on the wall to his right catches his attention. It’s a mural of a tribal Indian woman. Only her face adorned with metallic jewellery is there in the painting. Intricately detailed and beautifully painted, the black and white painting sits singularly on the wall. But there’s something about her eyes that intrigue him. Painted in blood red, they instantly draw him in. Staring at them he is reminded of something that he had once desperately hidden in the dark corners of his mind. A warm stream of emotions run upwards from his gut. He immediately wants to forget it. But, the pull is so strong that he can’t let go.
Finally, the travellator ends and he gets off. There’s sweat on his forehead among an ocean of creases. He wipes it off and keeps walking.
A bespectacled girl runs past him and drops one of her books on the floor. He gladly picks it up and gives it back to her with a smile. She thanks him and gets on her way. He too checks his watch and keeps moving.
“Since I was a child I always believed that I could fly. There was a little voice inside me which assured me that whatever happens, one day I will fly. “
There are large windows on his left. He pauses for a minute and in a moment of tranquility watches a white jumbo jet take off.
“I liked to watch birds take off and swoop and rise again countless times. I would run after them and hope to see how they do it but would always fail. “
Starts moving again. The tranquility has turned to mild seriousness now.
“One day I stole a few coins from Ammi’s purse and brought 2 cardboards and a dozen safety clips. When mother had gone to the fields and father was tending to the goats, I climbed up to our terrace. The boundary wall was broken and father could never save enough money to repair it. I went to the edge and stood there seeing the empty blue sky. There wasn’t a single bird in the sky and the air was dry & warm.”
By now he has reached the elevator which is going down. Just stops at the edge and watches it going down for a couple of seconds. Starts contemplating something.
“I took a long deep breath and closed my eyes tightly. Then I jumped.”
His body is still and rigid now. With a stern expression he steps on it and goes down.
“I broke a rib and a few teeth and fractured my right leg. My father did not take me to a hospital as he could barely put food on the table.
Like me he too could listen to his inner voices but only after downing a whole bottle of rum. “
Sees a father and small child standing together hand in hand going up on the elevator beside him.
“So that night he listened to his inner voices and threw me out in a field outside our village. That night, as my pain grew stronger the voices grew louder. Even louder than my heart which I thought was about to burst. And then there was silence and darkness.
The next thing that I remember was lying on a stretcher inside a refugee camp. Some people had saved me.”
Reaches the toilet and waits outside. Looks at his watch, it is 11:57 pm. Watches the seconds hand move solemnly 60 times. Just as it hits 11:58 pm, a person wearing a brown corduroy jacket exits the washroom. He makes eye contact with him and immediately enters.
“I did not know who they were at that time, but now they are my family. My only family.”
Heads to the 4th stall from the entrance. Lifts the flush and takes out a sider bag. It is exactly the same as the one he is carrying. Exchanges the two bags and heads out.
“They are very different from other people. They too can listen to their inner voice. They brought me up. Gave me an education. Taught me the secrets of all the worlds. Gave me knowledge about who I am and what my role is in this world. They taught me how to control my inner voices and let them guide me to my true purpose.”
Quickly heads out of the washroom and starts moving towards the lounge area. His fists are clenched and he is walking like a man with a zealous man. He takes off his shades. There is a burning ambition in his eyes now.
As soon as he reaches the lounge, sits on the sofa in the lounge, reclines and lights up a cigarette. Then gets lost in smoke and contemplation.
“No one apart from us knows that this world is not real. It is artificial. An all-encompassing illusion. The real world is around us but somehow we cannot see it. “
Takes a long puff and observes people walking and sitting around. A middle aged man in a leather jacket is speaking worriedly over the phone while two young girls are chit chatting in the corner. Innocents all around unaware of him and his motives. They are indifferent to his presence in the lounge and casually go about their businesses. He closes his eyes and lets a few emotions absorb in.
“We are distracted by our desires and needs for mortal things. We worship Gods that are not real. We are buried in an elaborate lie since birth. Far from the truth, we are living wasted lives here.”
When he opens his eyes he sees people engrossed in their cell phones, tablets and laptops, reading books and talking to each other. The guy in the leather jacket is now looking at his silver watch while grabbing a copy of Forbes magazine.
“I feel sad for those who don’t know this. There are too many in this world who are unaware and unenlightened. But I can’t help everyone at the same time. I can do it one by one.”
The boarding call is made. He promptly springs to his feet. Takes a good look at the vast crowd around him and reaches the counter. The attendant checks his ticket and gives him a warm smile. He is lost in thought and moves ahead.
Taking a left turn, he reaches the aero-bridge. He is all alone on the whole walkway. His body language is relaxed and confident. With the air of someone who is on a mission which he’s done thousands of time before. Puts both his hands in his pockets and strolls gently.
It’s a long walkway, with lights all around but a pitch black darkness in the front. Alone, he walks into a boundless darkness. With a purpose.
“Karma is the only thing about which people are correct in this world. Only that since this life is not real, it’s implications are in the other world. They spend their whole lives thinking, contemplating, analysing and planning only to fail in the end. Without realizing what they are doing, they are as good as lab rats on a wheel. The truth and reality are right next to them, only if they can stop and take a look around themselves. Destined to fail. Destined to perish. Only if someone could show them the way and lead them to freedom.
That someone is me. I’ve always known this. I was special by birth. Chosen for a higher purpose. The only one who could save the people and lead them to redemption.”
He is the first one to arrive and greets the air hostess warmly and enters the plane.
Places his bag on the overhead bay and sits on his window seat. Dark grey clouds are all over the reddish night sky. It is a particularly beautiful night. He can see the runway filled with glowing yellow lights. Stretching till the edge of the night sky. He feels as if everything is in its right place. Everything is where it belongs and he is in sync with the whole universe. He rests his head back on the soft headrest and looks out again. There is absolutely no other thing that he wants in the whole world right now.
“My life is not singular. It is eternal. A journey so long that the end cannot be seen. Only a patch can be seen among all the darkness. A bright white path stretching endlessly. I must walk on it and keep walking till I no longer can. Till then it will be a long but fulfilling journey. For this will bring people to salvation. Take them where they no longer have to hide. Where their mind will be free and body will be at peace. Where there are no demons or Gods. Just the bare truth. Abundant and free for all. A place where we truly belong. Our home.”
An old lady joins him and says “this is my first time flying.” With a smile he remarks, “mine too.”
The Wrath of the Hot Wax
A mundane Wednesday. Well, till noon at least. Check mails, reply willingly to a few, and unwillingly to few, take a download for the day’s activity, steal a huge cup of latte from the pantry…you know, the usual.
Post noon, I leave my cosy air conditioned office to go to the agency working with us. A media visit is scheduled for the day. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to it, for no other reason except that this meant bearing the unbelievably scorching sun right overhead at around 2.
Work is worship. I am on my bike.
Rick…client site…hard selling wrapped up deceitfully in soft storytelling…rick…a few laughs with a fellow colleague…hard selling…rick…
And to my surprise, I was done with work by 5.
Well, there was no point going back to work, so I decided to head back home. Get a few extra ‘me’ hours…getting aspirational or just day-dreaming – always a grey.
Let’s go home.
I had 2 important yet pending chores; to post a cheque to a friend so that she could cash it and wire me the dough ( the expiry of which was due in 5 days), and, to get waxed.
There’s a reason my father still calls me reckless and irresponsible.
I decide to hit the parlour.
It wasn’t my first time here. The place was decently hygienic, yet distastefully stuffy. I walked in and was relieved to not have to wait for my turn while awkwardly trying to ignore complain marathons between women covered in white mud.
I was alone and had the parlour lady all to myself. Lucky day!
I requested her to turn on the fan, so that I wouldn’t suffocate and die. I told her my requirements – threading and waxing. Simple.
Or so I had dared to think.
We’re one arm into it.
“Bohot tan ho gaya hai didi” she comments. I nod, approving of her observation.
“Haan…kya karoon. Roz dhoop kha kha kar aisa haal hai”.
“College mein bahut acchi skin thee” I continue.
Hot wax moves to my other arm now.
“Aapka waxing technique bahut accha hai. Utna pain nahi hota” I compliment her.
She smiles and wipes my sticky hands with a cold piece of cloth.
Moment of momentary relief.
I lift my Patiala up to my knees, gearing up for the next bout of pain.
What was about to happen next was something I would have never fathomed. A routine activity takes a turn as randomly and unexpectedly as ever.
She gets talking about her life.
Where did that come from? Okay, just small talk, maybe…harmless.
She tells me about the beauty salon where she was working earlier. A sudden sense of pride and accomplishment lights up her face, as she splurges details. With 7 people working under her, drawing a more-than-average 15k monthly, she seems almost dreamy talking about how coveted a manager she was.
Till she got married.
Awkward silence. Say something.
I ask her where her house is. She says nearby, and tells me she stays with her sister.
‘Oh, that’s nice’ I comment half-heartedly.
‘No, my sister is the main cause of my woes’ she retorts, almost venomously.
Oh she knows English!
A stereotypical pang of guilt passes by. I let it pass.
I ask her about her sister. By now I am too involved in the conversation to even pretend to ignore.
The sister is in love with the husband. The husband is loyal though, or so she believes. He doesn’t stay with her though. I find that surprising. He comes from work every evening and meets her but goes back to his parents’ house. She doesn’t have a mother, or a father…they passed away 3 years ago. She has been taking care of her sister ever since.
“And this is how she repays me”, she comments.
This is too much to process.
I have been a regular user of the sinful razor for quite some time now. It’s convenient, fast, easy and cheap. And it also causes hair on your skin to grow like it would after a good session of pot.
We’re only done with only one leg by now.
In between all her talking and my occasional nods and one-word responses, she keeps getting distracted, stealing a glance or two towards the entrance. She catches me noticing this and says her husband might come anytime.
What nonsense! Lock the damn door, I ‘m half naked!
She talks favourably of her husband. I do not understand this. Not at all.
The husband has been haranguing her for 1k for his chit fund. She enters another wave of sadness as she tells me that she earns only 4k now and has to even broom and sweep the place herself.
Something she’d never had to do before.
She squeals in joy when she recounts her mom’s reaction to her getting hired the first time. This memory is strong evocation of joy in her, so much so that she expects me to empathise.
I join her, with a fake laugh.
“My boss had cried when I told her I am leaving” she tells me. She even offered me to come to Kerala and handle her newly opened salon. “But I wouldn’t leave my Bangalore” she continues. She enjoyed the confidence of her boss and respect from her staff.
“Check” she says, and robotically I look down my legs and give her a thumbs up.
She mentions how she’s been requesting her current boss to lend her 1K. She’s afraid her husband is going to beat her up and create a ruckus again, if she fails to hand him the money. He calls her a liar, arguing she couldn’t earn just 4k when she has so much experience and was earning way more.
I cringe, in my head. My mind has gone numb by now.
“Check” she says, breaking the vacuum in my head. This time, I approve of the waxing without even looking down. It’s time for the routine wiping the wax off the legs with a cold piece of cloth.
I refuse, putting my Patiala down, telling her it’s not really necessary since I’m anyway going to shower. Why did I do that? Did I feel pity, or sympathy at her story? Was I feeling guilty somehow?
She complies anyway.
I ask her for the total cost. I pay her. I thank her. And I leave.
Should I have said something? A This Too Shall Pass perhaps?
I cannot even fathom to register this encounter, leave alone trying to understand it.
I reach home. Suddenly yet subtly, this seems like an alternate universe. A universe where the freedom to one’s wants & wishes is a given; where having complete ownership over oneself is a given. Where freedom is just, what we popularly call, a ‘hygiene factor’.
Dinner’s ready, I’m hungry. I eat, watching telly mindlessly.
Her story is not glamorous enough to be featured and fought for, for in many hinterlands like this, such ‘domestic issues’ is a guaranteed given.
I crush, roll and light.
I iron out my clothes for work and lay them out neatly. Thick plumes of smoke emerge with every drag, thinning and disappearing in no time.
Such an analogy at play.
The mirror reflects an ugly brow. Tomorrow, at lunch, I tell myself.
The day has come to an end, and so has my joint.
Tonight, I must write. At least.
An Evening Walk
Savitri was on her evening walk when she realised that something was wrong with her day. She felt like she was leaving something out or something was leaving her out all through the day. She felt this restlessness and incessant feeling of dismay, of incompleteness, of anxiety, of abandonment the entire while and she couldn’t place why.
It took her an awfully long time to realise this if you really come to think of it. The sun was almost about to set. The day was almost over. Maybe she did feel it at some moment in the day, but couldn’t comprehend it. She was busy the entire day and barely had time to think. On the contrary she felt like she had a good day, and recalled laughing on more than one occasion. Or was it today? She felt a little confused. A lot happens every day and it gets tough to keep up with the details.
That’s why walking is important, she told herself. Endorphin release. She had read about it in a daily the same morning, right after a call with her parents. A lot of health tips were present but somehow this stuck on. Perhaps because she knew about the benefits of working out (everyone does), but never really took the time to understood the science behind it. The article spoke about the entire biological process and about its indelible link with evolution.
The pathway grew narrower as she picked up the pace; cows and peacocks were a blur at this point. She passed a few of her friends, possibly on their way back from their walk. They waved out to her, she smiled and waved back. After a while, she started to pant and her legs turned slightly heavier with every step, like wading through a steam. She couldn’t outpace this nagging feeling though.
After another hard fought kilometre, she felt like she needed a catch a breath. She bent down, hands arched over her knees, sweat pouring down from her face. She looked up and saw no one. The trees were gently swaying with the wind. The farms around her looked boring. The stream flowed under a bridge at a distance, just as it always did. The pathway on which she was walking meandered along, careful not to grow over any vegetation. Small bushes ruffled presumably from birds and animals alerted by her presence. The sun looked static in the sky, but really wasn’t. A few more minutes and it would disappear.
She looked around from her slightly skewed position and she suddenly realised she saw no one. She felt like she had come a little too far. The sun would set anytime now. She didn’t waste any time to turn back. She didn’t run, but felt like she could. The gates grew bigger as she walked towards it, but she knew she wouldn’t feel safe till she was inside. She stormed inside and finally slowed down. The familiarity of those red bricks made her comfortable almost instantly. That was needed, she thought to herself. She felt physically exhausted and felt glad about it. She walked back to her room satisfied with her walk.
The light played with her hair teasingly, sometimes making it seem jet black, sometimes a shade of warm brown. They cascaded in careless curls across the nape of her neck. A tangled mess that made you want to reach out and run your fingers through it.
Beneath perfectly arched eyebrows, her eyes blazed with the intensity of a furnace. She looked as though she had found a meaning in life, one she would pursue to the very ends of the earth. They had a little fleck of gold in an otherwise earthy brown, like a pearl peeping out of sea bed.
On her lips, lingered a half smile. Two little laugh lines accompanied her mouth when she formed that smile. They hung on to the edges of her lips, as though afraid that they would slip away unnoticed.
Her blouse slightly unbuttoned, exposing her collarbone. The hollow in it, perfectly carved for a nuzzle. Her turtle pendant lay askew on her left breast. Her scarf lay unknotted over one shoulder.
Her multi-coloured glass bangles were so alive with reflections; you could almost hear them jingle. Her thick mop of unruly hair, sprayed carelessly, her eyes slowly unfurling their intensity on the world around, her lips set defiantly in a pursed pout, her hips swaying to a rhythm that’s playing in her head, her proud face looking straight ahead. Making heads turn.
I had thought about her often. What was her story? Every carved line on her face made me want to know what thought caused it. Was there heartbreak that had seeped into every vein? Was there melancholy which hid behind her smiles and cloaked itself with laughter? Or was there grit…of the grimy and obstinate variety? Was there hope too? The kind that sprung up like summer after a bone chilling winter. It seemed like she was giving me a message, only in a language I didn’t seem to understand.
I could never unravel her mystery. I am still trying.
A little wind fluttered in. It stirred up the stillness that had begun to smother our room. A soft gasp escaped his perfect mouth, his little eyes scrunched with concern, a furrow formed on his brow.
That’s when I turned away. I had watched him paint often enough. Every stroke of his paint brush, a soft caress. The wind fluttered the page but never turned it. Nothing could take him away from her. He breathed her in deeply as if he drew life itself from it. To be loved like that, I would give anything.
Hello Buttercup (The Opening Night)
Directors: Aishwarya Raghavan, Chakshu Bhandari, Ipshita Khan
Starring: Aadya Sharma, Felix Joy, Leubba Chopra, Aayush Arora, Tarangini Kumar Tarun Sharma, Ronika Rai Sarin, Rithika Karumbaiah, Rajat Pandey, Rimjhim Roy, Raghav Sharma, Abhishek Khurana
On the evening of August 12th, 2016, the students of MICA trooped to the Auditorium for the first theatrical treat of the year – Opening Night. And the treat in question most certainly turned out to be of the Halloween variety – replete with a moody melancholic atmosphere, dark family secrets, and a suave phantasm who’s the very embodiment of mental illness.
‘Hello Buttercup’ is a time-spanning story revolving around a schizophrenic woman named Em, the toll her shattered delusional psyche takes on her loved ones, and ultimately, the steps her daughter takes to save her from herself.
The play is excellently scripted and each and every performance is a credit to the production; be it of major roles like the multiple incarnations of Em, or relatively minor ones like the protagonist’s would-be suitor. Every cast member perfectly embodies his or her role and does justice to the script, and due credit must be given for this to the Directors Guild’s casting acumen.
Of particular note is the near-seamless juggling of different time-periods. Playing with chronology is as risky a prospect for a director as it is tempting, but in this case, it doesn’t take long for the audience to get in sync with the timeline and mentally fill in the blanks about what goes where (or rather, when). Moreover, towards the end, the non-linear storytelling does add an element of mystery to the narrative, particularly with regards to the protagonist’s true fate.
Last but not the least, ‘Hello Buttercup’, like any good psycho-drama, concludes on a genuinely terrifying note. The dizzying blinking of lights as the ‘monster’ (or the closest equivalent thereof in this story) claims its latest prey is a visual that seems designed to haunt the audience long after they’ve left the comfort of the Audi cushions.
To conclude – ‘Hello Buttercup’ is the thinking man’s horror story, masterfully scripted and performed; and if nothing else, ought to leave MICAns reasonably well-assured of the fact that the Annual Production is in safe hands.
A Reflective on Liberatory Model of Education
The write up is to allow us to reflect on the understanding of looking at the liberatory model of education. Here the focus is on breaking down the component of the traditional hierarchy model of power structure. The new age of pedagogy is not to impose ideas but to create the collaborating space for knowledge. It is the new path where the teacher student relationship can be challenged unlike the traditional banking model.
Emergence of new media is one of the most important factors to look at the evolution of the paradigm shift that is emerging. Spread of knowledge and the world actually on the way to become a global village is definitely allowing the shift to happen.
However these are very still early stages as the transformation into the liberatory model of education is still very much an utopian idea for many.
Bringing in my own personal perspective I would like to suggest that in western world this kind of model seems to have already caught up. However the framework based structure around which these ideas of liberating education functions are a factor that cannot be discounted. As educationist like Paulo Freire have put their retrospective on the path forward, I would like to put in my own views that the inherent build up of the dominant power structures are not that easy to do away with. It requires time and gradual progression of acceptance if and until it is disrupted by unnatural circumstances which could lead to change in social perception.
Also factors of quantum leap in technology and wider, control free access to educational resources could lead to the creation of a new and revolutionary hunger for knowledge which is free from the banking model. The flow of information which is coming in the form of sermon would then become obsolete. Students from my perception start to gain importance as co creators of knowledge only when they reach a certain level of competence and /or educational pedigree.
In the context of school level education there have been few instances where the comfort zones of the hierarchical teacher-student relationship are broken. The advent of the smart classrooms as still an elitist approach can be seen as a path forward to create the new liberalist model of education. Acceptance of a new role of the educators which could be subjugated by the advent of technology and the empowered knowledge of the next generation digital natives rather than precedent generation digital immigrants is an illustrative look into the foreseeable changes that can happen.
It is an understanding from my individual point of view that even a time may come when educational paradigm of teacher student relationship may not exist. Instead it could be Artificial Intelligence, chat bots and interactive algorithmic programming that may instead be interacting rather than “teaching/instructing” students changing the dynamics of liberatory model of education in time.
The Joy of Poetry
Rotis should be round
(What’s behind every successful man? A woman
What’s behind every successful woman? Maybe a divorce lawyer?)
My name is Mrs. X, I long for the rex,
I work as a boss, they call me Ma’m
I deal with the tops; bloody earn in pound,
Still what I learn is that Rotis should be round.
I have a hubby,
Long hair; cheeks chubby
Man of his words, ego like bloody swords
Respects me; he says,
“You’re so talented; everything so sound
Still what I pander is that Rotis should be round…”
I have a son,
Heavy built; adores Mike Tyson
Food is his thought, that’s what he bought
Loves me; he says,
“Mumma you are the best; can cure my wound
Still what I observe is that Rotis should be round…”
I have a Mother-in-law,
White hair; invariably fair
Woman of delegation, follows the nation
Praises me; she says,
“Mrs. X is a CEO; what a girl I found
Still what I want is that Rotis should be round…”
Life is fast, faster than the food
Expectations colored, though do good
My Lord, what wrong did I do?
Blesses me; God says,
“You found the ground, though you were bound
But never ever forget that Rotis should be round”
Uss din main bahut royi, school ne bas nikal feka iss duniya mein
Pucha bhi nahi agar main tayyar thi
Writer banungi main, ek badiya writer banungi, kaha mere dimaag ne ek khali dil se,
Par kya woh ek din kabhi bhi aayega, jab koi professor baccho ko prerit karne ke liye meri kavita sunayega?
Aur kya muje pata bhi chalega jab woh din aayega
Aaj thoda bahut likh leti hu, aur likhte likhte sochti hu,
uss chitr ka kya jo maine bachpan mein banayi thi
Sunita Williams ke poster ka kya jise bhula na pati thi
Uss camera ka kya jise papa se zidd karke kharida tha
Kya ek badiya writer ke liye yeh sab bhul jau?
Uss ek professor ke liye meri kahani puri na karu?
Kya hoga agar main writer na ban pau?
Professor yaha par kehte hai, sawal karo, sawal karo har ek cheez par,
Toh lo, uthaya maine ek sawaal.
Nahi banna muje ek writer, ek painter, ek photographer, banna hai muje sab kuch.
Thodi sketching kharab hai, thodi hindi bhi bekar hai, par kyu aap kehte hai mujse mere paas time naa hai?
Kahiye mujse Karo jo karna hai,
Saath hain tumhare bano jo banna hai!
अधखुले अधरों से
कुछ अल्फ़ाज़ मयस्सर हुए.
रैन घनेर थी;
पलकें मूंदी थीं.
क्या देखा क्या कहा
मालूम तो नहीं,
पर हरारत के एक पल में
गहरी आहट सी हुई थी.
लबादा ओढ़े, साया सा
जिसके आगोश में
वक़्त भी समाँ गया,
ख़ौफ़ था या खाई
जिसने उसे भींच लिया?
कुछ दूर खड़ी
एक कश्ती थी,
कगार पर एक शख़्स
जाना सा दिख पड़ता था.
पास जाकर देखा तो
उसमें मेरी शक्ल ढली थी.
नैन खुल गये बरबस
और एक पन्ने पर स्याह से
Lost in the limbo
Gee, I wonder,
whether it was a wonderland,
Or a place with a plain misery.
We came,we laugh,
We lived for a while.
We shared and
Alas, we died again!
Bt had an everlasting smile!
While walking on a rope
Of a flase hope,
You handed over
Your balance to me!
A fool in me,
Couldnt fathom that
Slight slope,Fell again,
How silly of me!
Goddamn angel again,
Who showed me to walk
On this way!
Neither m on top
Nor lost in limbo,
Just lost in quarrels,
Should I say what
I need to say!?
Tell the devil that
He can go back
With that evil smile,
And,he can tell everybody,
I will be back!
May mind never lose its path,
May it never try to follow any,any way!
A Piece for Peace
On acid, on rosewater.
Understand a thing.
There’s no good or bad.
Not in your father’s words.
Not in your underneath conscience.
Do what you got to do.
Free yourself from sucker superiors.
Kill the masses if felt inferior.
Fear and consideration for the indefinite.
To the mother and the partner.
Reflect genuine passion and ardor.
Ponder. Ponder. Ponder.
Jim over John.
Opinions over Discussions.
Personality over Possessions.
Live first and then die. Or
Take it as it comes.
Myths about the ‘Week’ busted by PGP22
With the season of interviews lurking right around the corner, we here at Litcomm, thought long and hard of ways in which we could bring you some entertainment. Maybe a nice little break, maybe a way to ease your minds… And with that notion, we came up with the idea of easing your tensions by giving you a sure shot cure: Answers to the thoughts that creep up your spine, as you wait your turn for the next round.
So here are twelve myths about placements, debunked by PGP-22 for your perusal!
- If you don’t get placed in the pre-placements, it’s the end of the world.
I’m going to tell you a secret: As difficult as it may be to accept, placement week is not the end of it all! Have faith in yourself and your choices. There are great companies that come even after the week, offering amazing profiles and packages. Being placed during the week or even after it is not the measure of your caliber. I speak from experience— I was patient enough to wait for the right company, and I was placed days after the placement week at an amazing company with an amazing profile as well as package.
My point being, things may not be as intensive as they are in the placement week, but good companies do come after that. Just be sure to give your 100% in all the companies that you apply to. Never work half heartedly and hence the choice of companies for which you apply becomes really crucial. Also, trust the placement committee; they’ll make sure you get a chance to apply for some great profiles! – Aishwarya Nair
- GD means Go Dominate
Although in GDs it is expected of you to come across as someone who can stand their ground and be assertive, sometimes it might be counterproductive because of the way GDs are structured here.
There will be too many people and too less time. The HR won’t be impressed and your shouting, overbearing voice is going to kill all her interest. Last year, most of those who cleared the GD round were the ones who were least aggressive in their approach. Personally, across various GDs, I either spoke to cover one or two coherent points that hadn’t been covered, or merely summarized what had been discussed. Another trick is to moderate the group if you absolutely have no fucking clue about the topic. This has worked effectively in MICA because HRs tend to go overboard with their ideas. Lol – Sharanan Gogoi
- You won’t get time to do anything.
This is as popular a myth as any. Placement week is not a time warp. There are still 24 hours in a day. Relax. And if things seem hectic, what I’d like to tell you is this: We are students of management. Time management, as cliché as it may sound, is a part of this course.
There will be time for everything, so be intelligent, get your meals on time, and get your sleep whenever you can. This includes making time for personal grooming, laundry, assignments as well as your personal chill. –Shabad Singh
- Good companies come in the beginning. The rest are crap.
To bring in some clarity, the scheduling of companies is done by the Placement Committee which tries to schedule company related processes taking into consideration the best interests of the batch. From last year’s observation, I can only say that consistent recruiters are given priority but this in no way should lead people into believing that these companies are the only good ones. We had companies a good slew of companies who came for recruitment during PGP 21’s Summer Placements after the week was over. Even during our Summer Placements, good companies visited campus during roll ons. Top level companies visit us well into the week.
The scheduling of a company’s process depends on the company’s availability to a great extent. In such situations, having a pre-conceived notion could jeopardize ones chances of getting into a firm that one may be suitable for.
One last word of advice, read about the company well, and set your priorities appropriately before applying. Responding to the EOI without reading up about the company can prove to be tedious at a later stage. Good Luck! – Rajat Pande
- Top brands means happiness.
A big brand does not mean that your internship experience is going to be awesome. Every organization has a work culture, a set standard of procedures; a specific way of doing things— and it may not match up to what you might be expecting. I personally had an extremely satisfying internship experience and I definitely learned a lot, but it was only possible because I was thorough with my research before applying for the company and went in with realistic expectations. At the same time, I know people who wouldn’t be thrilled working with Adwords for hours at end to suggest optimization, sometimes doing repetitive work even— and if they apply for a role that requires them to do such work, just because of the “brand name”, not only will they not enjoy it, their performance will also get affected.
So I’d suggest, that before you EOI, look up the roles you are applying for and don’t just focus on the popularity of the brand, because in the end only the satisfaction you receive from your job, the things that you get to learn, and the meaning you derive out of it are the only things that matter.– Abhishek Gupta
- Jobs in companies like Amazon and Google only go to engineers.
I’m the kind of person who believes that your hard work can always beat your established skill. Most people have this myth that Amazon or Google are the kind of companies where only engineers get accepted but I’d like to tell you guys that after coming to MICA I got an internship in Amazon, despite not being an engineer. It was my skill and hard work that paid off even though I did not have a technical background. Basically, I would give a suggestion to everyone here that the PlaceComm is getting amazing companies on campus, so align your priorities and preferences and make the right decisions based on them— you are probably going to get through.
If I were to give you two takeaways for Amazon, the first would be that know yourself very well because they are looking for a certain kind of people. For Amazon as a company, a culture fit is very important. And the second thing is, try and brush up your technical skills— like how well would you fit in any company.
So, work on your excel skills a bit and try and learn all macro and basic features that make your profile attractive and your transition smooth immediately when you join them. Another thing that might help would be to work on your business writing skills because Amazon pays a lot of focus on things like these.
If you are a sorted person, like you know your personality well and know your traits well, you are pretty good to go. – Krishni Miglani
- Metros are the only places you go to work. Sure.
Mumbai, Delhi, Bangalore, those are the places where most internships are and that is where most of the people end up interning. But there is a minority that exists, the few of us that are lucky enough to not go there. We are the ones who not just learn at their workplaces but also get life lessons on a daily basis, learning how to survive without things that we once took for granted! Did someone say Into the Wild?
When I got picked up for L’Oreal, I expected glamour and luxury. The name is French after all, and Harmony had taught us that French means luxury (Semiotics FTW)! But well, life had other plans. Now, I had been to Agra before, twice actually, but only to see and appreciate the Taj Mahal, the Red Fort, and Fatehpur Sikri… but when you are actually living in a city, you experience it very differently.
Sales in FMCG general trade makes you do all kinds of things! I visited the deepest and farthest corners of the city, looking for new stores where L’Oreal products should be sold, I worked 7 days a week from an office where regular electricity was a “luxury”, and hence spent most of my time out of it on the field— which was no better, average temperatures ranging between 40 and 47 degree Celsius daily.
During these 2 months, I learnt the FMCG distribution system very well and I also learnt to cook my own dinner; I learnt to negotiate with and convince a huge array of people and I also learnt how to change homes every 6 days; I learnt how to work on excel and I also learnt how to gain full control of my dietary schedule irrespective of how hungry I felt; I learnt how to manage a team of people and I also learnt that drinking alone is never a good idea; I learnt multiple tools to track performance and, not to forget, I learnt to convince myself that weekend is overrated anyway (it’s not)!
So here I am debunking the myth that not all of you will end up interning in a big city, and especially if you’re a big city guy like me, start preparing yourself, it is going to not be easy to adjust outside one (Murphy’s Law anyone?). But trust me when I say this, if you do end up in a Tier 2 city alone, you will be working with the real India, getting your hands dirty(literally sometimes) and just learning to live with what you get. In short, don’t be jealous of the snap stories that your friends will post every weekend (easier said than done), but know that those 2 months will potentially change the direction of your career, so keep calm and work on! – Aayush Arora
- You won’t get placed.
Your friends have work experience. The guy who went in just before you did great in the GD and made brilliant points. The girl who’s going in after you looks stunning and has a start up of her own. And the guys who got placed last time were the ones you thought you would be the ones doing the grind during placement week.
And here you are.
Your resume has nothing that seems to stand out, your hands are clammy and in the recent past you seem to have started stammering a lot.
In the face of all this, it’s just convenient to give up hope and resign yourself to the thought that you just might be one of those people who have to wait for roll-ons. But here’s the thing. When companies come to recruit, they rarely expect the MBA fresher in front of them to have it all together.
These guys usually have a particular personality in mind – not always rational – that fits the role. Remember that conversions are a mix of hard work, luck and just the probability of two people clicking during an interview. The only way out of this is a bit of homework, a calm head and a tad bit of luck.
A lot of you might have issues getting your CVs shortlisted. A few will make the final round every damn time and still not get in anywhere. But to get through placements what you need the most is to have some faith in yourself. EOI carefully, read up about the company and the industry, do your best and finally put your trust in PlaceComm and things will definitely work out. And also, remember, money isn’t everything. Go, do your best! – Felix Malekandathil
- You will apply to everything because FOMO.
We all feel overwhelmed when the first company that comes to campus selects a handful of students, and there you are, unsure of yourself and undecided about how you should go about things. It’s okay if you don’t know what exactly you want. It’s okay even if you do know what you want. Just remember to not shut yourself off to opportunities and be selective about the companies you apply for— otherwise it will get hectic and too damn intense in the end. When you are sitting for a company, sit with a calm mind and a confidence that even if you don’t get selected for this one, there are other possibilities still waiting to be explored. To increase your chances of selection, be clear about what you want and know your marketing basics. Don’t be a GD mafia, make relevant points, and most importantly, don’t give in to fomo. – Vineet Kumar
- You will apply to only one company/profile because that’s all you want in the world.
To begin with, Summer Internship is for just 2 months. And internship is an opportunity to learn and not earn money. Like Duh!
So when you are up for learning, practically, you shouldn’t try to choose what you’d want to learn. Just like you learned that fire burns your hand when you were a kid, you probably realized you shouldn’t have touched the flame, but if you hadn’t, you’d have never known! Likewise, don’t be too picky about the companies, profiles, or your stipend. You should worry about it when you are facing your final placements, but definitely not now.
Moreover your final placements will have no bearing on which company or profile you interned for; in fact they will be keen to know how you performed under the given opportunity! All said and done, I’ll remind you again that it’s just 2 months. So EOI wisely and don’t let go opportunities unattended! – Vishnu Iyengar
- Research Sucks! As long as I don’t get an MR profile, I won’t be doing much research.For everyone who thinks that research sucks and they can escape its imaginary misshapen clutches, I have bad news for you. You CANNOT escape research.
Be it a BM, Media or even an Account Planning profile for that matter, research is precisely the place from where all you guinea pigs are going to start.
Market Research, as the name suggests, will have you calculate and crunch those numbers for your firm to serve your clientele— the corporate world needs solid figures and facts to support your ideas, like it or not!
Brand Management: So you thought you’ll straight-away end up becoming a Marketing Manager or a Brand Manager? Well, isn’t that cute. For 2 years you’ll be working at warehouses, Kiraana stores, and Hyper markets to get the exact figures and gauge the mind of your customers that will finally make a dent into the annual report of your 100 million dollar worth FMCG.
Media Management: If you think Media Companies are about rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous, think again. Think harder. Most media entrants work on media software like BARC and IRS to evaluate the viewership/ readership/ listener-ship of their TG. Which means your computer and your software are your best friends for a reaaaaallllly long time. While attending award functions and film shoots maybe a perk, but 99/100 days you’ll sit on your desk and rack your brains over the figures that’ll threaten to blow your mind (and not always in a good way!). And the remaining one day is when you’ll see Akshay Kumar running on water to get a sip of Thumbs Up.
Account Planning: One of the most research intensive jobs also demands you to come up with something that your TG may even look forward. An AP professional may predict the forthcoming trends than just reading (read:over-reading) the existing ones. If you thought you’ll look anything like Don Draper of MadMen, well you probably are going to look cooler.
Don’t let this dampen your hopes because you’re still in a very good position. Research is not all that boring as it is made to look. It helps you in figuring the nuances and know the Why and How of things rather than answering the What-s of it. At the end of the day, it is immensely satisfying and you get to learn something new every day! – Aakanksha Rawat
- FMCG Sales is the best
(Told as an autobiography of a soap)
I was born last night and like every other thing in this world even I had a dream of discovering the purpose of my existence in this great big world, as soon as possible. Little did I know that I would be chaining myself in this cycle of FMCG sales which slowly, gradually and mercilessly would break my myths- namely, ‘life is easy, and the world is a happy place’.
|I am unique||I found myself sharing a 30*30 walled room packed with cartons with things as identical to me as they could.|
|“If you love someone, let him sleep”.
|Found myself banging into my fellow soaps at 3AM in the morning while being taken God knows where, in an old rusty three-wheeler.|
|I dreamt of AC shelves, metro cities with skyscrapers around and offices with cooled cabins.||Life becomes pathetic in an Indian village that has potholes aplenty. As for electricity, oh yes! May be for an hour, possibly a fan with two wings, and yes, an old rusty shelf in a 10*10 shop to rest on.|
|I will dissolve on someone fair with an already creamy skin… hopefully add on to her beauty!||Oh! Wait a minute I wasn’t told I might be used on animals.|
|I am a “fast moving” consumer product which will meet its end serving someone. I shall die a hero.||Was too small for my owner to find out that I fell from the shelf and got buried under a few sacks of rice, wheat, and pulses. May be one day he will find me out, sell me to someone else, so that I can fulfill the very purpose of my existence.|
Moral of the story: FMCG is not all that it’s cracked up to be. If you’re going in for the glamour, then I have one word for you: don’t. You will learn and you will grow, but darlings, you will be undergoing the transformation outside, sometimes under the scorching sun, sometimes beneath fluorescent lights, but always working hard. Don’t let this scare you, puff your chests, and go become the FMCG warriors you were meant to be.
Chummies. – Abhishek Khurana
With that last answer, we hope that may the odds be ever in your favor, darlings! C’mon, PGP-23!