It seems so good when seen from far,
But when you peep inside everybody is at war.
The Jungle is beautiful, deadly at times,
Filled with guilt, grace and innocent crimes.
Getting inside the jungle is very easy,
But once you get inside the path becomes hazy.
You pass through creatures both friend and foes,
Be prepared for stares, glares and woes.
The frightening silence in the brown and the green,
You will have dangerous encounters even if you are not too keen.
Enemies will befriend you and friends might stab you at the back,
But the experience is great; you can still have a crack.
Jungle seems never ending and the going gets tough,
At times it would be smooth or else will be rough.
The sounds and the shrills with a hint of black sky,
It can be so chilling and gloomy that it will make you cry.
The death of life and the life of death,
A little bit of nothing might end your breath.
The journey goes on, people come and go,
Some will laugh, some will cry but at the end, all will bow.
The air, the water, the fire and the earth,
You don’t know when your death is at birth.
The trees, the mountains, the river and the falls,
No matter how much you try, it’s the Nature that always stands tall.
The law of the jungle is that the jungle has no law,
You will be executed for what won’t be your flaw.
The life will hate you and death would make love,
Apply for a place in the heaven up above.
Even before you know, you might be a prey,
The only way out is pray, pray and pray.
The life is short and it may be all over,
There is no second chance; it’s now or never.
No one comes out of the jungle safe and sound,
If you are a coward then better go around.
The jungle is dirty, full of hate and hurt.
Love and loyalty are the values in dearth.
The journey is eventful, full of pleasure and pain,
So many tried to understand it but all in vain.
You have everything to loose but nothing to gain,
Still people come to the jungle again and again.
The jungle we are talking about is the jungle of life,
Those who succeed are the ones who strive.
Virtues will be tested and morale may be down,
Life is a circus with fate as its clown.
Don’t get disappointed, as the jungle is fun,
After all bad weathers, there is always the sun.
We all are together in this jungle of despair,
To face all the challenges of life with dignity and flare.
***************************************
The above piece of creativity has been authored by Vandit Dixit and Rohan Shah (Blog Owner) at the last bench of an ongoing class in an engineering college.
Your feedback would be a pleasure
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 23, 2006
My life this week.....
The biggest challenge in my life for the past week has been drinking protinex milk, consuming bayer's solution (and not vomiting thereafter) and eating threptin biscuits regulary for reasons I cant totally disclose. I would only say this much (for I am loyal to my audience) that my near and dear one(s) want me to grow up (read: out) fast...... unfortunately for me diametrically so.....
I would bypass the mystery and simply jump into the challenge. For one, Its tough to wake up 8 in the morning for 8.30 office and arrange for a hot cuppa milk in a room where there less water to drink then 50 kms into sahara and where kitchen platform is used to keep shoepolish and brush. So the next option is to arrange for the milk in an office canteen. But its not easy as it sounds... At 24, I might pretty young by my office-colleagues standards but not young enough to carry a protinex box like a kiddo through the middle of the office towards the canteen. I avoid being the cynosure of all eyes and give people their daily dose of gossip. Moreover the nosey canteen wala pries into everything one does there and I want to avoid questions that hit my sense of adult self-esteem for a home run.
I have tried quite a few dumb things over the past few days like ... but I took this job as a challenge. So, sample this piece of creativity, I took some protinex powder, wrapped in a paper paper, ayurvedic medicine style. Took it in my pocket and answered the expected question from the canteen wala that its a ayurvedic medicine. You might think that there is hardly any creativity here to jump and shout about but considering the kind of pressure I was under, it was stupidly tremendous feat. Its like taking a catch inches away from the boundary on the last ball of the over when the bating team needs a couple to win. And guess what, I am going to do an encore for some days (months) to come....
Regarding bayer's solution and threptin, yes its sore... its easier for sourav ganguly to face shoaib akhtar then for me to consume a teaspoon full of a medicine. I hate doctors, medicine and hospitals you see, but then I just gulp it down my deep intestine trying to avoid my tongues ordeal altogether....
So much for my near and dear one(s). Yes, they are demanding at times and they do ask you to things you dislike, "for-your-own-good" (they tend to forget that good is a relative word and the definition varies from person to person) and take away your freedom but then , Freedom is being free from your likes and dislikes and love is to keep 'em happy at all cost and means.
This post is my tribute to them,
Burrrrrpppppppppp. Excuse me,,,
Cheers,,,,
I would bypass the mystery and simply jump into the challenge. For one, Its tough to wake up 8 in the morning for 8.30 office and arrange for a hot cuppa milk in a room where there less water to drink then 50 kms into sahara and where kitchen platform is used to keep shoepolish and brush. So the next option is to arrange for the milk in an office canteen. But its not easy as it sounds... At 24, I might pretty young by my office-colleagues standards but not young enough to carry a protinex box like a kiddo through the middle of the office towards the canteen. I avoid being the cynosure of all eyes and give people their daily dose of gossip. Moreover the nosey canteen wala pries into everything one does there and I want to avoid questions that hit my sense of adult self-esteem for a home run.
I have tried quite a few dumb things over the past few days like ... but I took this job as a challenge. So, sample this piece of creativity, I took some protinex powder, wrapped in a paper paper, ayurvedic medicine style. Took it in my pocket and answered the expected question from the canteen wala that its a ayurvedic medicine. You might think that there is hardly any creativity here to jump and shout about but considering the kind of pressure I was under, it was stupidly tremendous feat. Its like taking a catch inches away from the boundary on the last ball of the over when the bating team needs a couple to win. And guess what, I am going to do an encore for some days (months) to come....
Regarding bayer's solution and threptin, yes its sore... its easier for sourav ganguly to face shoaib akhtar then for me to consume a teaspoon full of a medicine. I hate doctors, medicine and hospitals you see, but then I just gulp it down my deep intestine trying to avoid my tongues ordeal altogether....
So much for my near and dear one(s). Yes, they are demanding at times and they do ask you to things you dislike, "for-your-own-good" (they tend to forget that good is a relative word and the definition varies from person to person) and take away your freedom but then , Freedom is being free from your likes and dislikes and love is to keep 'em happy at all cost and means.
This post is my tribute to them,
Burrrrrpppppppppp. Excuse me,,,
Cheers,,,,
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
Is GOD a movie-director?
Well there are times in life when you feel just that. Or how else would one explain the occurrence of events in one's life which have more tragedy then a Rajendra Nath movie or more comedy then Hrishikesh Mukherjee's Golmaal,,,
Now that you are constructively confused, I would elaborate an event in my college life which has an element of both tragedy and comedy or rather tragedy for me and comedy for my friends... So here goes....
Venue: The allay towards canteen, SGSITS, Indore
Characters: Vandit and Yours truly
My friend Vandit and I were as usual deliberating on the subtleties of life on our way to Canteen in the lunch hour. All of a sudden this character pops up like an error message. I don’t exactly remember his name but for the sake of the story let’s call him Hari. He doesn’t look like he is a from our college, has a shabby appearance, seemed like hardly-educated, mill worker types… moreover he is looking for something….. BLOOD.
Now, before I proceed further I must portray the state of exasperation that ensued every lecture that we used to attend. Therefore a virtually lukewarm reason to forgo the class was enough to take us to red-hot excitement.
Now Hari comes to us as we were just about to enter the sanctum sanctorum of SGSITS canteen. He speaks to Vandit. (he apparently is the more cordial of the two of us and people tend to go by appearance) "Bhaiya, there is my Chachi in M. Y. Hospital, who is in urgent need of blood." he says. "O +. Around 500 ml".
"OK. We will do something. Don’t worry," says Vandit. After sincere deliberation, application of thought and stretching the imagination beyond normal horizons Vandit realizes that the ‘O +’ blood that Hari requires is flowing right there in his veins, gushing through his arteries.
God has been kind enough to Vandit as he has been in possession of a voluptuous body since quite some time. He wouldn’t exactly mind giving away 400-500ml of blood that too for a noble cause. (You can argue whether the noble cause here is blood donation or bunking the class) So in his typical congenial manner he consoles Hari "Bhaiya, Don’t worry. I am O +. I will donate the blood." He exchanges contact numbers and proceeds. WOW, Hari must have google-searched before entering the college.
I was still wandering whether Vandit is serious about what he is saying. The kind of physique, that I had one would feel that 500 ml of blood for me could be anywhere between a serious to fatal amount." Still vacillating in lurches of thought, we proceeded for the canteen. There wasn’t any discussion on this topic for the rest of the day.
Next Morning, 9.00 AM. My cell phone rings
– Vandit Calling… –
Me: "Hi", I say
Vandit: "Good Morning"
Me: "So, what’s up"
Vandit: "Well, I need you to come with me to M.Y. Hospital. I am going to donate blood and would require you to drive me back home." Read this criminal sentence of his twice, you would discover the fun later…
Me: "Oh, OK. I thought you were semi-serious about it. Frankly, I forgot about it."
Vandit: "No, No… I called Hari, yesterday. He looked really worried. It’s a serious matter and we should proceed immediately. The doctor wants the blood by 11.00 AM" (I doubt till date whether he called Hari or vice-versa. Anyway, I don’t mind giving him the credit for what he was willing to do for Hari.)
Me: "Right then. 15 mins and you can pick me up." (I said that thinking that was my contribution in the social cause.)
Vandit arrived on time. He told me about the previous evening. We started towards the hospital on his bajaj super. I was on the pillion seat.
I thought Vandit must be a little afraid and I don’t blame him. The thought of a Stainless Steel syringe entering your body like a straw, and sucking your blood like watermelon juice can be intimidating. He required to be cheered up.
Me: "I hope you don’t have HIV+," I said jokingly.
Vandit: "You know what happened yesterday," he said simply ignoring my novel attempt to cheer him up.
Me: "What," I said not amused at being ignored.
Vandit: "Papa called yesterday from hyderabad and I was telling him about donating blood and he said that as far as he remembers my blood group is B +. I knew that wasn’t right but I cross- checked and confirmed with Ma. It was O +. "
Me: "You don’t have any blood test report of yours," I said quizzically
Vandit: "Tried to find it, dint get it. But come on man, I ought to know my own blood group"
Me: Chuckled an artificial laugh..
The hospital arrived. By that time, we had received the phone call from Hari, who told us the pathology lab's location and that the doctor was ready and waiting for us. We rushed to the place.
We arrived at the laboratory. There was a glass partition separating the testing area from the waiting section. I waited outside and Vandit went in. I could see him and the glimpse of fear on his face that he was trying to camouflage and so could the doctor. He was trying to keep him cheered up…
God bless M. Y. hospital and the Indian Cricket team, the former for having a TV in a pathology lab and the latter for playing decently in Vandit’s hour of agony, which to an extent mellowed the fear..…. It was about time….
The doctor followed the usual practice of testing the blood for suitability and fitness. He asked the regular questions of – when did u last donate – types while taking the blood sample out of Vandit. He took the sample under the microscope and after a brief study, gave a least expected reaction, "Your blood group is not O +, Its B +."
Vandit was not amused. There were two voices ringing simultaneously in his mind. First of his dad’s who had given him the same information as the doctor and Second, his own, ‘I ought to know my own blood group.’
I walked towards Vandit without any precise questions in mind, simply bewildered. Before I could utter an alphabet, both Vandit and the doctor turned towards me and asked the ugly question, "What is your blood group?"
There are some questions in life, which you wish you dint have an answer to, even if its an exam. But I simply wasn’t fortunate enough… The answer was O +… I wonder till date, how I pronounced that immediately, as if it were an external viva and I would buy myself a neat 25/25 to have said that.
It was too much to bear the shock. I required being brought back to my senses to think of something to avoid this. But I could not. I saw Vandit, externally serious and internally amused. It was he who would drive me back home now. Damn it….
The doctor gave me 10 mins to prepare myself for the altar. We went downstairs. Vandit bought me a juice, (God, I would have bought him two, had he not called me in the morning today)… I prepared myself, tried to be brave boy, thinking of how Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and the likes had given their life for the country. Nevertheless, they hadn’t donated blood…. I thought while going back to the lab.
OUCHHHH, the syringe went inside my veins and slept there for what seemed like eternity. I saw the bottle getting filled up with my precious blood. I thought I would require being at total bed-rest for a week or so. Man, how I wanted my blood back into me.
We drove back home. The pain was no more there in the arms but very much in my psyche. Vandit was kind enough to arrange a dinner for a few of our friends at his place and he says it was in my honour…… Well…
So, what do you say, is GOD a movie-director?
Now that you are constructively confused, I would elaborate an event in my college life which has an element of both tragedy and comedy or rather tragedy for me and comedy for my friends... So here goes....
Venue: The allay towards canteen, SGSITS, Indore
Characters: Vandit and Yours truly
My friend Vandit and I were as usual deliberating on the subtleties of life on our way to Canteen in the lunch hour. All of a sudden this character pops up like an error message. I don’t exactly remember his name but for the sake of the story let’s call him Hari. He doesn’t look like he is a from our college, has a shabby appearance, seemed like hardly-educated, mill worker types… moreover he is looking for something….. BLOOD.
Now, before I proceed further I must portray the state of exasperation that ensued every lecture that we used to attend. Therefore a virtually lukewarm reason to forgo the class was enough to take us to red-hot excitement.
Now Hari comes to us as we were just about to enter the sanctum sanctorum of SGSITS canteen. He speaks to Vandit. (he apparently is the more cordial of the two of us and people tend to go by appearance) "Bhaiya, there is my Chachi in M. Y. Hospital, who is in urgent need of blood." he says. "O +. Around 500 ml".
"OK. We will do something. Don’t worry," says Vandit. After sincere deliberation, application of thought and stretching the imagination beyond normal horizons Vandit realizes that the ‘O +’ blood that Hari requires is flowing right there in his veins, gushing through his arteries.
God has been kind enough to Vandit as he has been in possession of a voluptuous body since quite some time. He wouldn’t exactly mind giving away 400-500ml of blood that too for a noble cause. (You can argue whether the noble cause here is blood donation or bunking the class) So in his typical congenial manner he consoles Hari "Bhaiya, Don’t worry. I am O +. I will donate the blood." He exchanges contact numbers and proceeds. WOW, Hari must have google-searched before entering the college.
I was still wandering whether Vandit is serious about what he is saying. The kind of physique, that I had one would feel that 500 ml of blood for me could be anywhere between a serious to fatal amount." Still vacillating in lurches of thought, we proceeded for the canteen. There wasn’t any discussion on this topic for the rest of the day.
Next Morning, 9.00 AM. My cell phone rings
– Vandit Calling… –
Me: "Hi", I say
Vandit: "Good Morning"
Me: "So, what’s up"
Vandit: "Well, I need you to come with me to M.Y. Hospital. I am going to donate blood and would require you to drive me back home." Read this criminal sentence of his twice, you would discover the fun later…
Me: "Oh, OK. I thought you were semi-serious about it. Frankly, I forgot about it."
Vandit: "No, No… I called Hari, yesterday. He looked really worried. It’s a serious matter and we should proceed immediately. The doctor wants the blood by 11.00 AM" (I doubt till date whether he called Hari or vice-versa. Anyway, I don’t mind giving him the credit for what he was willing to do for Hari.)
Me: "Right then. 15 mins and you can pick me up." (I said that thinking that was my contribution in the social cause.)
Vandit arrived on time. He told me about the previous evening. We started towards the hospital on his bajaj super. I was on the pillion seat.
I thought Vandit must be a little afraid and I don’t blame him. The thought of a Stainless Steel syringe entering your body like a straw, and sucking your blood like watermelon juice can be intimidating. He required to be cheered up.
Me: "I hope you don’t have HIV+," I said jokingly.
Vandit: "You know what happened yesterday," he said simply ignoring my novel attempt to cheer him up.
Me: "What," I said not amused at being ignored.
Vandit: "Papa called yesterday from hyderabad and I was telling him about donating blood and he said that as far as he remembers my blood group is B +. I knew that wasn’t right but I cross- checked and confirmed with Ma. It was O +. "
Me: "You don’t have any blood test report of yours," I said quizzically
Vandit: "Tried to find it, dint get it. But come on man, I ought to know my own blood group"
Me: Chuckled an artificial laugh..
The hospital arrived. By that time, we had received the phone call from Hari, who told us the pathology lab's location and that the doctor was ready and waiting for us. We rushed to the place.
We arrived at the laboratory. There was a glass partition separating the testing area from the waiting section. I waited outside and Vandit went in. I could see him and the glimpse of fear on his face that he was trying to camouflage and so could the doctor. He was trying to keep him cheered up…
God bless M. Y. hospital and the Indian Cricket team, the former for having a TV in a pathology lab and the latter for playing decently in Vandit’s hour of agony, which to an extent mellowed the fear..…. It was about time….
The doctor followed the usual practice of testing the blood for suitability and fitness. He asked the regular questions of – when did u last donate – types while taking the blood sample out of Vandit. He took the sample under the microscope and after a brief study, gave a least expected reaction, "Your blood group is not O +, Its B +."
Vandit was not amused. There were two voices ringing simultaneously in his mind. First of his dad’s who had given him the same information as the doctor and Second, his own, ‘I ought to know my own blood group.’
I walked towards Vandit without any precise questions in mind, simply bewildered. Before I could utter an alphabet, both Vandit and the doctor turned towards me and asked the ugly question, "What is your blood group?"
There are some questions in life, which you wish you dint have an answer to, even if its an exam. But I simply wasn’t fortunate enough… The answer was O +… I wonder till date, how I pronounced that immediately, as if it were an external viva and I would buy myself a neat 25/25 to have said that.
It was too much to bear the shock. I required being brought back to my senses to think of something to avoid this. But I could not. I saw Vandit, externally serious and internally amused. It was he who would drive me back home now. Damn it….
The doctor gave me 10 mins to prepare myself for the altar. We went downstairs. Vandit bought me a juice, (God, I would have bought him two, had he not called me in the morning today)… I prepared myself, tried to be brave boy, thinking of how Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and the likes had given their life for the country. Nevertheless, they hadn’t donated blood…. I thought while going back to the lab.
OUCHHHH, the syringe went inside my veins and slept there for what seemed like eternity. I saw the bottle getting filled up with my precious blood. I thought I would require being at total bed-rest for a week or so. Man, how I wanted my blood back into me.
We drove back home. The pain was no more there in the arms but very much in my psyche. Vandit was kind enough to arrange a dinner for a few of our friends at his place and he says it was in my honour…… Well…
So, what do you say, is GOD a movie-director?
Friday, March 03, 2006
HURRRRRAAAAAYYYYYYYYY..........
Raise a toast,
Got the Narsee Monjee result yesterday and God wasnt it pleasant surprise (modest expression, is that!)....and am I not breathing a sigh of relief..........
With a rank of 13xx and 87.79 marks in the writtens it was half the battle lost... but GP/PIs did the magic, scored a whopping 84/100 in those to get a total 171.79 and merit rank of 109, Man i must have really cracked the thing...
When i look back, My GD was fair to good (offcourse i realized that only now), i was the second one to speak and first one to make sense, people were tending to loose the topic in the GD, rather than speaking on the topic, they connect the topic to what they know something about and speak on it... Its like you gotta write an essay on a cow, but you only learnt bout tree, so write that cow is tied to tree and then go bang bang about the tree... Mind you, m not a GD cracker by any stretch of imagination, but thats what i felt bout it...
My interview was decent.. they asked me all the general questions, bout Indian economy, my achievements and what would be my return on investment in MBA and does that investment makes sense.... In retro I realized after giving these MBA interviews that these people also look at passion as an important parameter... you gotta believe what you say... and put it strongly... not thump-the-table stuff but should kinda reflect in your voice modulations....
I am giving a lotsa expert-insights which i dont exactly have the right to just after my first call-conversion but hell this is my blog.... so I can give as much gyan as i want... isnt it?
Well, I havent won an academy award but nevertheless i dont mind giving a short speech. So here goes.... I am blessed to have a real cool set of people around me...pa, ma, sis, aarti, piyush, punit, jinal, siddharth, shant, vandit, devashish, milan and all those whose name i am stupid enuf to forget... Owe a lot to all of you and luv ya all...........
wait for my next publication...
--
Rohan
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