Letter to Diro (just for laughs)

I found this letter, which I had written on 24 September 2006, lying in my mailbox. It was originally meant only for fun (and it still is) and circulated only within the core group. Thought I should post it on my blog and save it for eternity. :) This is the original version, all the grammatical mistakes exist as-is.

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Dear Diro,

   We, from the team of THE ENTREPRENEURSHIP CELL, IIT Bombay are proud to announce IDEAZ has successfully completed one more year of its life (which seems to be short, considering the views of Prof. Amarnath :P )

   The IDEAZ competition was succesful, in every sense. The competition included workshops in all IITs, or was planned to include workshops in all IITs. But, the authorities there proved to be more useless than at our IIT. They didn't even allow US to invite a speaker to talk to THEIR students for NO COST at all. On this day, I am really proud to be a student of IIT Bombay. Atleast, here we are only expected to accompany our coordies to the Shack Phone Booth (then y do i keep a coodie. I wud as well make the call myself). Also, the concern the institute takes over our personal health is hugely inspiring. Keeping in view the environment concerns, we are have been "requested, not forced" to not keep any motorised vehicles. But we are welcome to travel in the Tum Tums (which seem to take a tourist ride through the institute) The Tum Tums are really available only when there are no students are going to their classes. This initiative has hugely brought down the traffic concerns over the "narrow and congested" roads of IIT Bombay.

   Coming back to IDEAZ, a workshop was organised in almost all the departments. And the enthu shown by the Profs for the same has truly been awesome. However, the students seemed to have faced a little difficulty in attending them, cause the timings clashed with their Mess timings ( :P ). This was like a boon to the team, as we then got the opportunity to attend the workshops which were otherwise expected to be jampacked. The whole team, especially the coordies, got to(read 'were forced to') attend the all the workshops from CS to Meta. I would like to share a few events with you. In one workshop the Prof. spoke about the entrepreneurial opportunities in his department. His session was particularly enlightening, and I would remember it for whole of my life, cause that was the day, I got to know how the number of people hired (in manufacturing, R&D and few other shitty areas) has varied from 1965 to 1995. Another incident involved a Prof. speaking (fluently) for only 1hr and 20 min (of his scheduled 30 min), but ending with a "Don't listen to people like me who are themselves very confused in life."

   The entire 2 months (and a zillion posters, banners, flexes, flashes) also involved humorous incidents where posters were torn, and fights settled over which third of the notice board belonged to whom. It was particularly pleasing to see the Inst. Cult. body, fighting for their "zeroeth" part of the board. Being the director of this truly awesome(i truly believe this.) institute, I would like to invite you to give away the prizes to the winners.

Thanking You,

The Ecell team,

P.S. I hope everyone in your family stays fine, and that your son doesn't get slip and fall into the swimming pool, get hit on the elbow by a football. Cause, this institute would luk a little awkward with a "Swimming Banned" notice.

Also, please pass on the following msg to ur son from our side. "Dear Son, watching porn on the LAN is very bad. Please note that the quest for your enjoyment could end our only means of enjoyment."

'Those who condemn politics to be the last resort of a scoundrel are 

bound to be ruled by scoundrels' - Plato

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The Best Of Worlds

You can't put it better.. The author (Sandipan Deb), Deputy Editor of Outlook (as on May, 2000), is an Electronics Engineer from IIT Kharagpur. He also met his wife at IIT.
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Contrary to popular belief, the vast majority of IITians do nothing of note in their lives. Indeed, many of them became IITians because their parents told them that's what they should mug their butts off for, and aim to hit the US of A, so that's what they did. They attended classes, took notes, passed exams, took the gre, applied to a dozen American universities, and disappeared into that country's vast technological underbelly, to reappear only in the matrimonial columns of Indian papers with a dollar salary multiplied diligently by the day's exchange rate. Or they stayed in India, working at unexceptionable jobs, doing reasonably well. In either case, they got beautiful brides (often from rich families) and presumably lived happily ever after, meeting classmates once a month and chatting about their IIT days, and how Hippo has just changed jobs, and Zap is three rungs away from the top in Cisco Systems. Each of them had intelligence well above the average, and most, exceptional academic tenacity.
A decade and a half out of IIT, I wonder how many of us IITians achieved our potential? How many went to seed in remote dusty townships, tending massive pipelines and drinking in the township club? How many wilfully walked away from their natural talents in favour of safe MNC jobs selling diapers and hire-purchase schemes? How many, trained to think rationally and without bias, never managed to figure out the nuances of Indian office politics, and were relegated to obscure corridors in huge buildings? How many, obsessed with the American dream, settled for second-rate US universities, hung in for a green card, and today work at unfulfilling jobs in Idaho?

There's another angle too to this. How many IITians, determined to stay engineers and in India, ignored the siren songs of the USA and the IIMs, and joined Indian industry, only to find that all the technical designs came from abroad, that you couldn't change them even if you knew they were flawed, that all the engineering you got to do was maintenance, and knowing all that, they either settled into mediocrity, or went off to the US or the iims?
What was my IIT education all about? It was about IITians: 400 academically exceptional boys (and 12 girls) on a campus, which, in the case of Kharagpur, where I went, was far enough from civilisation to have very interesting effects on our coming of age. Many of us were truly extraordinary. There were boys from village schools who were leagues ahead in knowledge of the urban convent-educated type. There were those who mugged night and day, or simpered at professors from first benches, and there were those who also had a vibrant and busy life outside academics. I've found that the latter did better in life, even in fields like pure research. I also had friends who never needed to study, they had been apparently born with engineering wisdom in their genes. There were guys who spent most of the semester in a drug haze, but sobered up a few days before the exams, cracked them, and went back to their pharmaceuticals. Others did not have such control. Like Allen Ginsberg, I too saw some of the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness. A few dropped out (I met one of them years later in Shillong, a stridently devout convert to Catholicism, and a lowly government clerk, but he seemed happy), a few killed themselves. But, most of us survived. I suppose we became tougher, more mature, more knowing, and more aware of our dark sides.

We lived and ate together, and shared our joys and heartbreaks and good times and bad times, in competition and camaraderie. We compared our philosophies and, bit by stumbling bit, developed our value systems. Never were stronger bonds forged between young people. Years from now, if I meet an IIT wingmate on the road, I know we will carry on as if nothing had changed, and nothing actually would have. A couple of years ago, there was a small visual trick on an Outlook cover, which was my idea. A close IIT friend, whom I had not been in touch with for years, called up from Singapore: "Some other name is mentioned in the cover credits, but it was your idea, right? I know the way you think." No one knows me better than these mates of mine from IIT.
IIT was also a whole insular world in itself, complex and complete, and it sucked us in. As The Chosen, we lived a full life with no necessity of any contact with the outside world. Totally cut off from politics and "the bigger issues", our delights remained in competing fiercely on the field or the stage with other hostels or other colleges. There were few material pleasures. Lifestyles were spartan, the food abysmal. The vast majority of males were totally deprived of female company. The girls lived a strange life-on the one hand, they were hounded by dozens of would-be suitors; on the other, they faced the petulant hostility of the majority which saw them as undeserving of so much adulation and so many free lunches.

When we graduated, we went out into the world with a rare confidence and strong tribal loyalties. The confidence eroded a bit over the years, and we learnt some humility when we discovered non-IITians as smart as we were, and also people who could outwit us because they were intelligent in a different way-in a sly political way-an acumen we had not developed in our isolated environment which, above all, inculcated a sense of fairness and a respect for ability. We came to terms with a world that compared poorly with our beloved campus, and some of us even went ahead and conquered it. Others didn't do well, but knew that the ties between them and the masters-of-the-universe classmates would never change. They were ties born of the pride of being an IITian. That pride would never diminish.

It never can.
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Valentines day

I found the below post in my drafts today, originally wrote it an year ago (in Feb 2010).
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Feb 14th - marks 6-weeks since the 'Event'. 6-weeks full of motivational-highs and emotional-lows. But its over now. I celebrate Valentine's Day with the loss of my "Implants" (my piercings).

This is how my leg now looks like. Doesn't resemble the rest of the body much, by color or texture, but always good to have two legs to stand on :)
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[I felt it was unnecessary to put the over-an-year-old photo of my leg, so I didn't.]
I can continue with a relation to this year's Valentines Day, not directly related, but not unrelated either. Strangely, 1 year later, broadly speaking, this post still holds good. Its 2-weeks instead of 6. and I guess I'm also trying to lose my piercings (metaphorically speaking). I also realize I've got to stand up and be a man on 2 feet or 10. Am more like an infant now, crying until I find the comfort of its mother. Sadly, I don't even know who or what is that, that comforts me. Friends? Girls? Girl friend(s)? Onsite-role? Money? Fame? Alcohol? Cigarettes? Drugs? Sex? Violence? Exercise? Some of them are easy to get, few are a little harder, few are impossible.

Guys - Class 1 to 3 to 1

(Me wanting to write this post could be a result of having fallen in love with the song "Emptiness" by Rohan Rathore, which by the way I must have heard a 100 times today alone, and I'm listening to it right now too. This post is purely about guys and their relationships with woman.)

I was out recently on a dinner party with my colleagues (all guys), and as was bound to happen, the topic turned towards women and relationships. It was then, that I realized, that all of us were on the 'same page' (as the IT folks say). We all had successfully finished Class 1.

Class 1: One true love, which doesn't work out but ends up changing your life forever. Not life as much as the attitude towards it and everything important about it. Few even end up committing suicide, and they don't exist today anymore. I would like to call them losers, but out of respect for the 'ones no-more' and otherwise, I shall save that term for later. The ones who are bright enough to go on with life, are still dead inside nevertheless, with the word 'COMPROMISE' etched deeply into their heart and brain and every other part which could try to make a decision. I guess, it's not only about girls but about one big failure, and could happen to anyone.

After Class 1, those few who passed with distinction join Class 2.

Class 2: The second type of guys are those who are very practical about what they want. Section A: Some can talk, walk and behave everything nice, could say something like the guys from Delhi, or call them womanizers. They target a woman, get her, then they (are wise enough to?) think about the next woman. Section B: Others are the IIT-BITSians types - geeks, nerds, gamers, etc. {For the record, real IIT-BITSians are never just nerds. I know of IIT-IIM guys who got a blow-job in a taxi from a woman his mother's age, who dated air-hostess' and always fly for free to different parts of the country. But then, the normal junta would never have heard of them, not until 15yrs later as CEOs of some of the biggest firms. They are, what we call, 'Studs'}. So yes, the womanizers and nerds are passionate people, so focused on their 'needs' that they really don't care much about what all they are missing in life.

Are they more practical? Yes.

Are they insensitive? To an extent.

Is not-being-sensitive good? I always wonder.

Losers? Lets wait and see.

Apart from a few from Class 1, Class 2 is made up mostly of those who are born that way, or as I would like to put it, who never grew out of the way they were born. The rest of Class 1 moves on to Class 3.

Class 3: Deep inside, they are the nice guys. They are full of mad and crazy so-called 'principles', which never ever helped a man be a man before. Lost in their own deep philosophical thoughts, they can be emotionally volatile. They are the ones who would write posts such as this, or read it till here without calling out loud, "WTF?". Not their fault ofcourse, they are just lost in transition. They try to be someone they are not. They are like Schumi driving a Taxi Cab, like Stevie Wonder begging on the streets, like Ross trying to pull off a Joey, or like Joey trying to get a woman by cracking Gold in the Maths Olympiad. In terms of women, if they met a naked woman in a dark alley,

Would they want to make out with her there and then? Yes, they are guys too. (Cover, F***, Forget rule).

Would they? Hell no. They would give her clothes and drop her safely at her home.

Would they cry within the next day that that woman never called back saying she was madly in love with them? Definitely.

Losers? Do you doubt? Has anyone ever won a 100m Sprint race by swimming in the pool?

(Personal Opinion - better to take Class 1 over and over again until pass with flying colors.)

The sad part, though, is that, while all guys can classify all guys into the above 3, there are hardly any girls that can. They all say, they would prefer Ross/Chandler any day, but look at all the men in their lives and all you would see are Paulo, Joey, Joey, Paulo... which is also why almost every guy has passed Class 1, the unlucky few, multiple times.

My Day, My High'ness

Experience began around 3am on Children's Day, Nov 14th. Below is the post I wrote from a different world,  unaltered. Sorry about the grammar, that was the best I could do then.
(Have added my comments, if any, in italics). And a couple of names have been removed.
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I am so high now, everything looks bigger now. I am saying things faster than I am to think.


I am being rude to people now?


My heart is beating so fast.


I'm feeling so HIGH. :)


I know how dumb should I be to want to write this blog post. But I just want to remember this night forever in MY own words. it feels so dumb to me myself.
...


SorrY A*, for acting so rude all this time, while u have been trying to make a conversation abt F1 all this time.


I will put this on FB tomorrow.


Take me back home please.
...


At this time, I feel like .however dumb ur defense might be, I wud say Yes to you. U can convince me easily at this time. Try this 'SHIT' on James Bond, he wud speak.


Am I home yet ?


What's going ON? It feels so funny, I want to write all this, just so I can read it later tomorrow to amuse myself and to share all of this with my friends so that they can make more fun of me and amuse themselves. Still I'm convinced this is the right thing to do.
...


Weren't we closer to Home ages ago?
...


Oh, don't drive so fast. R u Ob Boosters or what? NFS? Cheatcodes? Hahaha.


Just get me home and help me sleep. But I promise (to myself) I shall share all this with all my close friends). a great start to an evening which ended badly, but just to end the day on a 'HIGH'.
...


help me sleep, someone. Help me. I need movement to stay normal. I can type faster than the screen can display. I feel like I am following myself with a camera like in those reality shows, something like in the movie - Crank. You know, as if you are looking at your childhood after going back in time.


Don't worry, I won't puke on you, don't give mw that look.


By the way, it also feels like you have just had bhang. Sh*, you were right, this IS good SHIT. But it feels like its the best thing I have done. likeMote (like more) proud that I didn't do anything, than I DID 'something'.
...


Help me get to tomorrow morning soon, help me, this IS getting me crazy. Like shown in those cartoon films - black wave is trying to gulp a little white caricature of a man. Well, something like that. (wow, that sounds so Phoebe.)


(my friend was watching TV in the Hall) thanks for playing that music, it actually me distract my mind. 'jaane tu ya jaane na'? - she REALLY never knew... Ah, PJ (am I becoming a Chandler now?)


My hands shaking so much I can't even hold the phone properly. Thank you Nokia's predictive text, Cudnt have down it without You. FUCK the iPhone, go get a Nokia. Tagline - I'm Tiger Woods.
...


Why am I only imagine Lisa and Bhare laughing at this post madly by this time, and wanting to share it with all their friends. (to myself: I'm so trying to go backwards n correct my grammar errors, but i want to see it clean n tidy tomorrow, unedited, not even by myself. I think I've left numerous great one-liners above. Oh! N I also was being a Monica earlier. N now, this is Phoebe.

Now, I also see Makhija laughing his Ass off at all this SHIT of a post.

...

Damn! News? Seriously? Why? (he was now watching News on TV)
...


Whom am I amusing by writing all this post? Is it really as funny as it sounds to me right now? What if I don't like it myself tomorrow? (wow, I feel so Shakespeare'an now. Gotcha with the spelling, thank you Nokia).


(lisa stop laughing.)
...


But I don't really think you would have gotten here still understanding the whole joke. this is one of those mazes even that character (of Mahabharata) can (can't) get out of.


Now its 3.45. Will I just stay awake till noon.? somewhere long time back it was 3.20 when I finally got home.


Old Hindi songs now (on TV)? No! An Ad of those. That's even worse (in Joey's tone typical).


Lisa, if you are any bit of a Friend, you should seriously scold me never to do this SHIT again.


How do I sleep? Water doesn't help either.


Old majestic songs (on TV again), huh? No! Its the start of another News. Shut it, shut it. Oh, he did! (you know,w its getting so hard to keep up in typing with my thoughts. I'm like typing 5min after I said it. I'm like imagining stuff 5min into the future. This is time travel. (Note: this was a compulsive joke.)


okay, all of us just missed something, even me. It wud have been like hottest thing on Youtube, if video taped. I thought of a joke and I tried to type it, but was so stuck on the first line... Or first para... That I actually forgot the joke.
...


I should name this 'Memoirs of a * * man' ... Never before seen version, unless you have experienced it.


'Must read, unless you have experienced it.' ... New York Times.


Bestseller.
...


They should tape me at this instant, and use me to publicize this SHIT, n also to show to little kids in school, what they should never do. (never in CAPS).
...


you know, I feel every line in this post is a 'master piece'... A work of art. (in the tone of that Spanish/Italian/French guy showing off grandeurity.


But hell, it still can't express my feelings as I'm feeling them. To hell with words. I wish I could video tape myself, n show my own self how I was a few hrs before that terrible headache (after waking up) happened. (ah, I feel so good, my jokes have become more on the good side of PJs.


More water.
...


U know I read a couple of paras above this, n it felt so dumb, not as funny as I was thinking. Sounded like made up fun to me.


I am dumb n a slow retard (what's that?). Bah! I'm bored now.


I can't even sleep. I roll over, n it feels like having had a lot of that petrol-colored liquid to u. A little is enough with me though.


Damn, those \§&, spoilt a great evening. (I meant those %$^#$ who spoiled a great evening)
...


Just realised, I feel as if I'm transforming now, literally, physically. My skin feels like its peeling out of my skin, now its better. blood circulation? I think.


I ought to send this post to some psychiatrist to psycho-analyse me.


Damn, they didn't have to leave like that. (they is them %$^#$ again)
...


Imaging back in time, I think (n feel) like I have been writing some awesome (in italics) post like some RGV film, that builds up the suspense greatly... Except that I can't remember where I started... Same like RGV.
...


oh, my mouth was dry, I was getting thirsty, so I felt like my skin peeling.


Oh people. never do such SHIT ever, else this is what you become.


9 hrs later...


Everything still feels so different. People are crossing the road too fast.my bike has no brakes, have to get that fixed.


Its so strange, everything feels so new. This is the road I take everyday to go home, but today it feels wider and better. (The GHMC guys should give everyone this SHIT, then no one will ever complain.)
(I didn't even have that headache I forebode)


I still remember that they spoilt what was supposed to be a great evening. But hell, today seems a new day.


My bike has no brakes, damn. Let me reach home soon, n I'm not getting on my bike again today.


13 hrs later... (back on bike already)


I want chocolate, loads of chocolate. ate a lot of sugar, n Dark Chocolate powder.


And you know what I would name this post, My day, My High'ness. :)