A(nonymous) Phone Call.

Looking at this picture, anyone wondering whether this post is about a mathematical formula..? Certainly NO. This is about a phone call from one of the most revered persons in my life.

Sometimes some simple phone calls can make you very happy. Some phone calls are very special, so that you can't forget them very easily. The first phone call from your crush saying that he/she has fallen for you or you are abroad and you hear your baby's voice for the first time through a phone call- they all would be very special. But this phone call which started as an anonymous phone call,

which hardly lasted for about just 10 minutes is not one of the above kinds, but is very special just for this wonderful person on the other end.

...It was around 7:30 on a fine evening. As usual I was fighting with my program. It was giving all kinds of output except the one that I was expecting it to give..! You could have seen a troll photograph with this caption in facebook.."that awsomeee moment when your program works.. YAAY..!". I was desperately waiting for that moment - trying hard and exhausted. It was at this moment I got this phone call from 94438***** and the number was similar to that of my father's. The mobile was screaming and I quickly took the mobile phone, put it in silence and I was looking at the number for a few seconds. I was wondering who would be calling me from this unknown number
and that too with a slight resemblance to my father's number. Though I was slightly irritated for being disturbed from my work, somewhere from the bottom of my heart I was thanking this unknown person at that moment for giving me a short respite.

I picked up the phone and said "Hello.."
Mr. X :- "hmm.. dharani aras ah..?"

I guess people would sometimes skip this word 'hello' on a phone call only when they are talking to a very well known person or to a close friend. He skipped the word 'hello' on a phone call and straightaway mentioned my name. I was wondering who this person could be..a friend of mine..? But his voice seemed to be well matured.

Me   :- "aama..dharani aras thaan..neenga yaaru..?"
Mr. X:- "naan yaara..? hmm.. kandupudi paakalaam.."
Me   :- "kandupudikuratha..sorry sir..neenga yaarunu theriyalaye..?"
Mr. X:- "sorry ellam ethukku solra..seri..naama rendu perum konja neram pesuvom..enna unakku    
              nalla theriyum..naan unakku nalla  paritchiyamaana aalu thaan...un vaalkaila oru rendu    
              varusham en kooda spend panniruka..naama summa pesuvom..nee enna         
              kandupudikuriyaanu paakalaam..enna?"

All this he said in his own slang. Though at that moment I didn't know who he was, I was excited to talk to him. I felt like I have heard his voice a number of times...

Me   :- "(excitedly)..seri pesalaam..unga voice ah engeyo ketta mathiri thaan iruku..gnyabagam  
              varala..naan kandupudika try  panraen..."
Mr. X:- "try panriya..(he laughs)..paakalaam.."

Then this person told everything about me, my family, my cousin...and asked,

Mr. X:-  "enna naan yaarunu theriyutha..?"

I was telling to myself.."utta vishwaroopam padathula vara maathiri..yaarendru therikiratha..ivan thee endru purikirathaa nu paatellaam paaduvaaru pola iruke....!"

Me   :-  I told the name of a relative of mine and asked..."avaruthaana neenga..?"
Mr. X:- "(laughs and then sighs..)seri..un relative circle ah vitru...un teachers yaaraavathu irukumaanu konjam think pannu.."

When he said he was a teacher of mine, without a millisecond delay...

Me  :- "Nagaraj sir..!Theivame...neengala...!Sir..". Speechless for a second.."sir...epdi sir irukeenga...!!".

I was talking to this person after nearly six years..yes it had been six years since I met him. When I met him or talked to him last time, it was the day when 2007 12th board exam results were announced and I went to his home with a bag full of chocolates. I was one among 50 or 60 of his odd students who got a centum in mathematics and I am damn sure he remembers the names of all his students. To be frank I feel Engineering Mathematics is still one of the worst subjects to have in engineering. But this man made maths to look so simpler to me. One could attend his class just to listen to his own way of teaching, in his own slang, with his trademark words ('tikki', 'kokki' - ever heard of these words in a maths class..?)

He then happily said about a student who is studying in Stanford University and one other student who is doing economics in Delhi University. Both of them are my immediate seniors. He then said about many of his students doing their MBA in IIMs and even about students working for Google. I could feel the sense of pride and happiness in his voice. I cannot be dumb without sensing his pride and happiness, afterall my father is also a teacher.

Finally,
Mr. Maths :- "unkooda pesanum nu romba naala ninaichuttu irunthaen..un kooda pesunathu la   
                       romba  santhosham dharani.."
Me            :- "Sir..actuallah atha naan thaan sir sollanum.."
Mr. Maths :- "all the best for your future da.."
Me            :- "Thank you sir..!"

Don't forget that I am just a mediocre student - I am not one of his students who is doing masters in Stanford or Harvard - I am not one of his students in IIMs - I am not one of his students in Google - I am just an ordinary student. This extra-ordinary teacher remembers even an ordinary student like me. Being an ordinary student, I cannot expect much from him other than his remembrance about me even after these many years..

"The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great  teacher inspires."    - William Arthur Ward

A beautiful life @ Hostel

It's a cloudy morning - dark sky, cold weather with the smell of wet mud. "Oru paadhi kathavu neeyadi.." in speakers. The climate seems perfectly beautiful to have some steaming hot bajjis or bondas with a cup of hot tea and that's when Nataraj says "ppaah..! sema climate..ippa mattum hostel la irundha semaya irukkum..entha kavalaiyum illaama joly ah irunthurukalaam..". Suddenly it starts raining and retrospective thoughts begin to fill up my mind...

It all began on 12th August 2007. Four beautiful years. Those days, irrefutably, are the best in my life till now. Those mixed emotions that anyone feels when he miss his family and move to a hostel for the first time in life cannot be easily described in words. I still remember my 'first night' at hostel - my 'first night' that too 'with 3 idiots'(with Santhosh, Tamilmani and Pragathes at blockII, #34). I didn't sleep well at my 'first night' because that was the 'first time' for me to sleep in a hostel far away from home; because that was the 'first time' I realized that the sound of airplanes could disturb your sleep.

When I look back at my hostel life, I realize that my life has changed a lot now.
Back then, I had many freedoms - freedom from bathing daily, freedom from wearing ironed formal clothes.
Back then, I had never felt like going home even for long vacations.
Back then, I had never slept without a late night chat with friends, atleast for few hours.
Back then, I had never felt lonely. Be it anything, to read or to play or to bunk classes or to possibly anything, there used to be always someone with me.
Back then, even a few pennies and a little pocket money rejoiced me as much as having earned millions.
Back then, I had more hair than what I have now (gifts for being a 'hard core' software engineer)
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Lots and lots of back thens...I feel I miss my little freedoms a lot.
Now most of the things are completely different from how it used to be in my hostel days and now I understand why most of us get nostalgic when we think about our hostel days. Especially, the climate with constant sprinkling of rain drops sets my mood perfectly right to get nostalgic. Going further down my memory lane I realize I miss many things...

-those birthday bashes..
-those hostel photo shoots..
-those first time experiences of watching a *#censored* movie..
-those days of roaming around the campus under moon light after second shows in Ganapathyram or Thyagaraaja..
-those DJ nights in hostel rooms..
-those laddus and jilebis which friends bring from their home after a vacation..
-those HPL(Hostel Premier League) and especially all the team names FFF,TTT,SFS,8P,BWB (all the names are *#censored*). The worst part  is I still don't even know how to exactly hold a cricket bat #self-deprecating humour..
-those carrom boards and Table tennis in newspaper reading tables, those card games with more than 10 people in a room..
-those idiots who call even me as a 'pandu'..
-the moments that you will remember forever.. those moments of laughing until you cried.. those moments of laughing until your stomach hurts.. those moments of perfect craziness.. It is those moments where you had to be there to feel it. It is those moments that make life worth living. It is those moments that makes life incredibly and unutterably beautiful..

   will those moments ever happen again.?? 

Remembrance of those days is so vivid that I am tempted to pen down my memories. Hopefully, this could take you all back to your past and probably leave you with a smile to reckon all those unforgettable moments that you possibly cherish even today..!!

I feel that hostel is not just a place where I stayed. It is where I played, I studied, I laughed, I cried, I enjoyed and I lived. Those walls of my hostel room would have seen all my emotions and feelings. I wonder whether it even knows how I would react when I am happy or when I am sad.
       College hostel is like another home away from home, where you have nothing to be worried of..

Before I completely go into the past, it is Nataraj again, "dae naaye..mazhai nindruchu da..vaa office polaam....".
Back to life, back to reality after a short break. All that I could think of now is the words of Robert Frost,
               "In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on".

Questions from an ordinary Indian..

Imagine a place for 50 people filled with at least some 100+ people. Imagine a place where people climbing over each other to get in or out, people pushing you to pass through.  China mobiles screaming out loud music. Some were chatting. Some were shouting. Some were laughing. Some even wore a look of desperation in their faces. I was standing there, at the rear end of the bus. Back then, getting out of the bus seemed to be my only wish for the entire life time. That was a painful journey. No human being on this earth should have to travel like that. I just asked myself whether these kind of packed bus journeys have become so normal to people?

I just leaned against the side of a seat. It was suffocating. I couldn't move. All that I could do was to ask some more questions to myself. The bus went by the side of a bridge.
Why/How do people live under these bridges..?
Why there is a luxurious building and next to it people living in streets..?

When I looked outside the bus, I saw people traveling in two wheelers
with their faces, hands and eyes covered like terrorists.

Why there is so much dust in the air..? Why there is trash everywhere you go..?  



Why does the bus conductor issue more number of tickets than seats..?
Why do many Indians does not know the difference between street roads and public toilets..?
Why do people bath in railway stations..?
Why do we call India a secular country where caste-ism and racial discrimination are deep rooted in the minds of people..?
Why every other country in the world is respecting the Indian culture except Indians..?
Why do Indians fight to call themselves backward..?
   “Reservation ought to be given on the basis of worth, not merely on the basis of birth” 
                                                                                             - Mahatma Gandhi
 Lokpal, RTE - WTF..?
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endless questions.. and at last-
Is India anywhere near in becoming world super power..?

    
Many would argue that India's economy is one of the fastest growing in the world. I would say that their obsession with GDP has gone to an extent of being called as a psychological disorder. It is the outcome of their desire that their country should be viewed by others as a fast developing or an emerging country.

What India's years of GDP growth has done to the lives of Malnutritioned children..?
In What way the economic development of India has improved the lives of impoverished..?
Is India atleast qualified enough to be considered a probable candidate for future super power?

When I try to answer these questions, I couldn't. I don't want to. I feel ashamed to accept the failure of my nation. Some of these questions may seem to be immature. But, it is these questions which confound me, which infuriate me every day. When I try to find an answer to these questions, it almost makes me to hate India.

I find myself many times wishing I had some power - power that could quickly heal the wounds of everyone and everything around me - power that could change fear to comfort - power that could  convert the tears of sadness into tears of joy.  But then, after seeing what some people, who already have these powers(you don't have to be GOD to do these), have done to India on a daily basis, I realize I might just quickly burn everyone to the ground - if I have the power.

You should not consider me either a patriotic person for writing about India. Neither should you consider me as disloyal or unpatriotic just because some simple questions make me to hate India. I am just like you- just like you and everyone out there. I am just a simple middle class Indian - just one among many self-centered, ungenerous contemporary Indians.
   
I do not want India to be an economic superpower. I want India to be a happy country – JRD Tata

Could Money buy Respect?

For me, this new year starts with a beautiful lesson learnt from a small conversation between a fruit seller and a stranger. Totally the conversation would have lasted for just a minute but the impact and the outcome of it is huge.

A fruit seller was selling fruits in a wheelbarrow. A person came there buy some fruits. He enquired about the price of guava. The fruit seller replied "கிலோ இருவது ரூவா". He asked the fruit seller to give half Kg guava. The fruit seller weighed it, put it in a bag and gave him the bag.

The person took the wallet out of his pocket. There were a few hundred rupee notes and one five hundred rupee note. He took a hundred rupee note, waved it at the fruit seller and asked him "சில்ரை இருக்கா?". The fruit seller looked him up and down. He didn't reply anything. He just shook his head up and down, nodding that he has money to give him the balance.

The stranger gave the fruit seller a hundred rupee note. The fruit seller took out a plastic cover bundle out of his pocket. The person looked at his bundle. I wonder whether he felt, that the fruit seller's wallet is bigger than that of his. While the fruit seller was counting money to give him the balance, he took an apple and was contemplating whether to buy it or not. The fruit seller took his turn now and asked, "அது கிலோ இருநூறு ரூவா. காசு இருக்கா?". The question left the stranger dumbstruck. He didn't reply. He just shook his head. The fruit seller just smiled and gave him the balance. Their conversation ended.

There were just two questions in this conversation. In the first one, the buyer asks the fruit seller whether he has money. In the second, the fruit seller asks buyer the same question. While the genuine intention behind the first question was to know whether the fruit seller has money to give him balance, I could feel that the manner he asked it troubled the fruit seller. I don't know what made him to authoritatively ask the question - whether the 'assumption' that the stranger made that he has more money or his patronizing attitude towards the fruit seller.

Whatever it is, the point that I would like to make is - many forget the fact that they should respect a person for his character, for his personality, for his attitude and not for money. When I look at the dictionary, I could see the definition for money and respect as,

Money(Noun) - "The most common medium of exchange; functions as legal tender".
Respect(Noun) - "A courteous expression (by word or deed) of esteem or regard".

Obviously both doesn't have the same meaning. Then, it is strange why people treat them as synonymous. I accept that it is hard to accrue a lot of money. But just because a person has accrued a lot of money could not make him a person deserving great respect.

Respect should be given to anyone who deserves it. It shouldn't be something that could be bought with money. Neither should it be something that is sold for money.

 Who is rich? He that is content. Who is that? Nobody. -  Benjamin Franklin

 Let every man be respected as an individual and no man idolized. - Albert Einstein