Mediocre But Arrogant-book review

A casual stride through the Indian Authors section of Crossword Book Shop showed me this 'No.1 Book On Campus'. Having completed my exams and searching a good-read for my insanely boring train journey, i picked up this book and flipped through the pages, to get the feel of the book. And guess what, i found few cartoons and doodles in it which immediately thrilled me to read and try new stuff among books. And as i leisurely opened the book, comfortably seated in my train berth, i dived into this imaginary world of MIJ. And the rest as they say, is history.

As the cover suggests, its a story of a guy Abbey, who stumbles upon luck and lands in MIJ-the premier institute of Management in India during the '80s who had been a Economics student in SRCC of Delhi University previously. Our protagonist finds its hard in the beginning to adjust to the stress-filled, pressurized B-school life, just like every living entity trying and adapting to the change that is induced in its environment, and during these modes of survival does he encounter many friends like Rascal Rusty( the brainy one who guides him every time a problem strikes), Gopher (the bottom licker of profs and nosy guy on campus), Ayesha-the coquette, Alps,Gur, Neats, Arunesh or lovingly called Annie, Pappu-the giant sleeper, Sethu-the geek etc.  A very good deal of narration spent on the professors like Haathi (Ed Hathaway-the founder of MIJ), Chatto (Chattopadhyay who gives 9.80 as the highest score out of 100 in the test of Mean,Median and Mode), Pari ( Parihar-who is the 40-year-old handsome hunk and know-it-all prof), Fr.Beez, Prof. Kameeni (shez Prof. Kaamini infact, but students change the name....you get the drift) will take the reader back to their splendid college days.

The story portrays the on-campus life, the love life of Abbey with Keya, Ayesha and Priya, although every time something nice is about to happen, he manages to mess it up. This novel brings the feel of college life, those stupid pranks on each other or the symbiotic life we opt for good grades during the exams, the rat-race for Placements or Summer Jobs, and the way one can get screwed and unscrewed during a summer job.

And halfway through the novel did i realise the actual meaning of the title-Mediocre But Arrogant which is indirectly screaming out its on MBA. Abbey says to himself, 'accept it Abbey, you are mediocre!' 'but i am an MBA' he defends. 'so what, do you expect the world to kiss your feet?',says his counterself.

Enjoyed reading this book and thoroughly laughed over Chatto and Gowariker of the book. And the author has a way with nicknames, they are funny and apt. 

Last but not least, the final letter from Haathi or Mr.Hathaway is the best advice for any outgoing student. Shows that he cares for his students and draws a summary for their college life at MIJ saying "You came here to understand yourself and your strengths. To believe how easy it is for you to make a difference. That is the purpose of higher education"

A real good novel for people not just aiming for MBA, but everybody who loves to go down the memory lane of their college life!

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The Salt Factor!

Not so many days ago, i promised my mother on a telephonic conversation that i would (finally) oblige her and learn cooking in winter holidays. And this promise was duly forgotten, but little did i know that a ladle and pan were waiting for me in the kitchen as soon as i step my foot inside home!

So here i am, being an apprentice to the most wonderful chef of my life, and i am actually enjoying it. I must admit that the beginning was a bit 'hot', but then, 'tis winter...(yeah! pun intended) and i started enjoying the way i can saute' the fried onions in the hot oil, just like a musician conducting an orchestra (naah! not literally). Oh...about onions, i must admit, it felt awesome watching them burn, since they've been making me cry ever since i've known them.

When i first tried preparing Sambar, i kinda felt that its similar to our college life. Only the main ingredient Dal being our academics, and the vegetables being the extra curricular activities or clubs, the bitter heeng and dhaniya being our bitter profs of the dept.,and the strong scent after we drop pieces of dried chilli being our semester results! Although these ingredients have their own significance, without the one star ingredient which magnifies the taste, we can't even eat it! 'Tis none other than SALT!

Basically, friends are like Salt! Without them, college life is just dull and tasteless, however healthy and nutritious other ingredients are! Friends are those who support us through thick and thin of our life, those are the people who help us coping with 'going-down-south-pointers', nagging profs, pointless assignments, accompanying for a movie or as simple or rather complicated as just listening to us. Life can cherished if we have them!

So, i shall now conclude my not-so-perfect-recipe-description saying 'Thank You friends! You are the salt of my life!'

P.S.: Sambar came out utterly delicious. Thanks to the adequate amount of salt i've taken!!

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Hatred:Better than Apathy!!

"Its an emotion"
Is what i could comprehend
After hours of pondering
And pointless meandering

'But why?' is my question
"How could it be" i exclaimed
Is it plausible or not?
Asked my wiser-self.

You were nothing
You didn't mean anything
Why should i bother
Why should i care

Then comes a little voice
Slowly increasing its pitch
Coming from the darker streets
Of my heart's kingdom

That hatred is better than apathy
For love and hate are just
Are mirror images of each other
One trying to support, other trying to defeat

Apathy is even worse
And i wasn't its prey
But hatred took toll on me
And showed me a different way

And then again i ask
What actually was it that i felt
It blatantly utters-'jealousy'
Why did i feel it? i appallingly  asked
Without digressing the voice answers
"'Coz hatred changed its face!"

Anand is as much a national treasure as Tendulkar - The Hindu

Anand is as much a national treasure as Tendulkar - The Hindu

Meera!

It was a pleasant morning. Birds chirping and the dew on the grass seemed so beautiful. Meera came out of her empty bedroom, with terror on her face. The decision’s been made. And she will abide by that. With short steps, she proceeded to the kitchen and grabbed the sharpest knife. For one long moment, she stared at the knife in her hand and then thought “Oh! Just be done with it”.

She cut her palm with one severe sharp blow of the knife and in a matter of seconds, blood started oozing out. The pain was excruciating and her eyes welled up with tears. She threw the knife and then started screaming for help, immediately regretting the decision. She called her minion Chotu, who is just 11 years old, the son of the car driver. Chotu’s family worked at Meera’s guest house and is trustworthy to her family too. And when Meera came to the guest house with her Anant to rekindle their relationship, Chotu became her ally in all those little plans that were made and executed to get the couple together. Their work hand-in-hand made them friends. But today, it was altogether a different case. She didn't bother sharing her plan with him and made the deadly move.

Chotu came running towards her to know what’s wrong with his Didi at that hour of morning. Seeing the blood dripping hand of his beloved Didi, he immediately understood that Anant should be summoned for the first-aid who is busy repairing his SUV and donning the hat of a mechanic for once.

On hearing the news, Anant took to his feet. Meanwhile the delusional Meera saw images that flashed from her past. She and Anant promised themselves of devoting time to each other, the good times during their stay at the guest house and the night before when they quarreled which is the sole reason she cut herself. After the fight, the quick phone calls made by Anant scared her, making her think that he’s leaving her the next day. Fearful that she might lose him again, Meera trusted the knife to save the relationship.

Anant was frantically running into the kitchen where everything was a clutter. At the corner, he saw her seated on the floor, with eyes closed in pain and hand held tightly with her dress which made little effort in stopping the never-ending blood flow. Berserk with anger and all those unnerving emotions, he shouted at her for not being careful and questioned her intentions. He quickly grabbed the first-aid kit from the drawing room and started dressing her hand. Meanwhile, Meera enjoyed the sight and was satisfied with the proof her drastic situation yielded. Proof that Anant loved her, more or less the same way she loved him. Though the wound was painful, she endured the pain with ease and watching his anguish, she regretted her quick decision once again, only this time, attributing to the pain of her beloved.

But there was a strange peacefulness in her eyes which were half-closed, and lips with a semi-curve to the north. Her peaceful countenance angered Anant even more. Controlling the strong urge to slap her tight, he asks her, "Why the hell Meera? Why would you do this?" 

He knew Meera for too long and also understood that it wasn't a mere accident, for she is not among those who fumble with cutlery. She wouldn't resort to self-punishment unless something has shaken her up; but what puzzled him was the reason. The words that came out of her mouth perplexed him.

“ Because I Love You!"
Anant was taken aback with her reason. His incredulous expression yielded more explanation from his lady.

"You were planning to go away again. I had to do something to stop you. I couldn't think of more plausible thing than this”.

 Six months back, Anant left Meera one morning without notice. She woke up to an empty bedroom and silenced house. They fought for petty things and he was more of a workaholic who needed private space and did things all by himself. And when it came to Meera, she always wanted a family and got used to be looked after. Anant, vexed up with the petty issues from Meera, leaves her one morning. When they were at the verge of breaking up, their friends convinced them into resuming their relationship and hence the idea of spending some ‘quality time together’ in the guest house.

Meera continued her explanation to the short tempered Anant. “You weren't talking to me, and the past few days have been awkward between us. It was like we were strangers and I could see the past repeat itself. On top of that, I heard you talking with someone about ‘road journey’ and ‘leaving as early as possible’.

“Whoa Whoa! Slow down!! Easy dear.”, assured Anant.

“ I wasn't going anywhere. I wasn't mad at you, and I sure as hell not planning to revive the past. That phone call was nothing. It was just to give directions to someone about something important and I didn't know my phone call would bring up such a travesty!”

Now Meera was giving all-business-and-no-crap look to him and started interrogating him about the mystery of ‘giving directions to someone’. Meanwhile the doorbell rang and Chotu went to receive the visitor. 

Anant stared hard into her face without answering, and the air between them became tensed.

 “Didi! Courier!!”, called Chotu.

 Not blinking her eyes and still staring, she asked who sent it.

Chotu's interrogative face broke into a smile and called out " Its from Anant Jiju".

Anant embraced her and said those were the tickets to Norway, the place she always wanted to visit, and he was confirming with the travel agent about the itinerary last night. He held her tightly and whispered into her ears “Happy Anniversary My Dear Rebellious Lovely Wife!"

Meera, the melodramatic queen, suddenly felt ecstatic about how the situation changed. She was relieved that Anant was planning a surprise for her and she mistook it for something else. Suddenly something occurred to her. The Pain.

“Oh no! So this was all a fiasco! I really shouldn't have cut my palm” she exclaimed.

Anant retorted to her “I planned to make this anniversary memorable. And here you are, destroying every chance of that happening. Lets get you to the hospital”.

She didn't budge.Anant playfully and with full authority lifted her up in his hands, cradling her while she rested her head on his warm chest and closed her eyes, forgetting herself in his arms as the couple slowly proceeded towards the SUV for the hospital.

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An Open Letter to all the starers in train!

Mr. Starer-in-the-train,

Your conspicuous stare would neither startle me nor can it make my immense, unfathomable eyes look at you. So why don't you keep your  despicable intent staring to your self which could do the whole world considerable benefit when you mind your own business. It irks me most when i had to find out you staring at me like i'm a meat ball that you are trying to crunch off like a hungry dog. And an immediate frenzy feeling creeps into my grey matter that i throw some object in my proximity at you just so it could distract your obnoxious thoughts and relive me of your behavior.

And don't you even dare think that if you clap your hands hard for no reason or play a stupid song on mobile i would turn my gaze towards you! You cheapster! First try to cover your bosoms with a piece of cloth instead of exposing it to the whole wide world. Or rather, you could strip yourself in the public if attention is all you need in the moving train!

I wish you be rewarded with thousand slaps from fat aunties followed by love from women's footwear of all sizes the next time you repeat this act!

Wishing you all failure....


Yours Sincerely,
A-pissed off-girl-in-the-train

.

Dead Poets Society-a review.

“Carpe Diem!”

That’s what Mr. Keating keeps saying in this movie. And that’s the word that kept me mesmerized the whole movie. Oh wait! I didn’t yet mention who Mr. Keating is right? Oops! What have I done! My fingers are doing the typing and they don’t seem to like the backspace key of my keyboard, so I guess I’m gonna let the first line stay there without editing. And I have decided to write whatever my mind speaks on the subject.  Anyways, lets get it started then.

The subject My Lord/Lady is Dead Poets Society. Yes. You read it right. I know it’s kind of creepy by its name. But dear me! What a great movie it is! And that’s the reason of today’s review. That I was completely bewitched by the idea of this society which Mr. Keating started. Okay now! My bad, again. I hereby introduce Mr. John Keating (played by Robin Williams), the teacher that will be teaching English at Welton High, which is one of the best preparatory schools in the United States, as the movie unfolds.

Mr. Keating, also an alumnus of this school returns to his alma mater to teach English. A romantic at heart, Mr. Keating teaches the class about the value and essence of poetry and dares his pupils to call him “O Captain! My Captain”. Also there is one Mr. Neil Perry (Robert Sean Leonard-best known for his character in House M.D. series as Dr.Wilson), another important character of the story who loves acting but only can’t pursue it because his father wants him to prepare for Harvard Medical School and become a doctor. 

I opine that every good English teacher is eccentric and unique in their own way. They somehow have the power of changing our perspective of thinking. My English teacher made our whole class stand-up on the desks of those neatly laminated benches of conference room (which are rarely used by students) and touch the roof only to make us think that its not impossible to reach the sky if we want to. Yes, she’s my favorite and when I watched Mr. Keating make his pupils stand on benches to see the world in a different view, it took me back to the memory lane and lurk there till all the pupils of Mr. Keating took turn on the bench and stepped down.

So yes, this English teacher had his own way of teaching and naturally his students wanted to know more about him. And they find his image in the yearbook and some intro which states he was a part of some Dead Poets Society. On enquiring the Captain, they get to know that it’s a bunch of romantics who used to read poetry of biggies like Shelley, Thoreau, Whitman and even sometimes their own verse. After listening to this, the students decide to reconvene the Dead Poets Society. From then on, they went to that Indian Cave every night after the lights were out in their dorms and read poetry.

Meanwhile our Perry keeps pursuing his dream to be an actor by getting a role of Puck in a drama Midsummer Night’s Dream for which his dad’s consent is required and he carefully forges the document for greater ambitions only to be caught and punished mentally by the nagging dad! Ergo, Mr. Keating comes into the scene, as always taking the back of his students, trying to encourage them. But it has to end as a tragedy for Perrys as their son does something inexplicable and stupid (for the sake of suspense I’m not revealing the story) and the blame comes on to our beloved English teacher. And he had to leave.

But his farewell was fitting, for his class stands upon their benches and calls out to him O Captain My Captain as he leaves.

This story touched me, for, my passion towards writing also has been kindled by that English teacher Sumati who taught us in our 8^th standard. 

And now, about the most important word Mr. Keating always told his students, which also is the opening word of my article. Carpe Diem means “Seize The Day!”

Dead Poets Society takes us back to our schools and to those extra-ordinary teachers without whose guidance, most of us wouldn’t be where we are now proud to be. This movie emphasizes that one should think for oneself and that ideas can change the world. Live the day and make it extraordinary. And finally, to quote from Whitman as Mr. Keating passionately says to his students 

                    

Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,


Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,


Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)


Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,


Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,


Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,


The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?


Answer.


That you are here—that life exists and identity,


That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse.

 

I know what my verse is gonna be. Do you ??

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