My First Day at Work...

After innumerable number of delays (starting from a slow computer at home until purchasing a season ticket) I finally caught my train, the connecting train and reached office with a five minute delay on the reporting time of 10:30 a.m. Another 6 people joined today along with me. The day started as predicted with the now familiar HR guy. He briefed us upon the agenda for the day and had a few forms for us to fill. Then he embarked upon the origin of the company and dutifully explained its vision and mission.

From then on, it was as informal as if I had gone to a friend's place for a gettogether(pardon me for a bit of exaggeration). The HR took us first for a tour of the office, introducing us to most of the the existing staff (which numbers upto only 56 including 2 Americans, a Mr. Workaholic and a Ms. Workaholic). Then we headed for a sumptuous lunch (free of cost at the company pantry). After lunch, the company's Chennai head had an interaction with us. We got bugged away from the original rendezvous by constant drilling upstairs (RMZ Millenia II is yet to be fully furnished) and again ended up in the pantry (no food this time).

Then we had a 'no nonsense' presentation given to us by the maintenance guys who clearly mentioned that there are no restrictions on internet usage as far as we do our work. We should be getting our terminals in a day or two. It was 4 in the evening and we guys were chit chatting around. The HR made a reappearance and accompanied us in pairs to our cabins (nice and clean). Then came our senior staff with something looking similar to a telephone directory. She told us that we'll need to familiarise with the book(Perl language manual) within four weeks. That is to be the training part.

Around 5, all the new joinees headed for a late tea at the pantry (milk, tea, coffee, biscuits etc etc). We were just discussing about when to leave, when someone carried in a cake, samosas, soft drinks etc into the pantry. We were told to wait for sometime there as there was a regular end-of-month party to celebrate the birthdays of people born in August!! One among the new joinees was also August born (cake had his name too!!) Almost everyone turned up and it was nice to interact with them again.

My first impression: A very friendly, work while you work and play while you play, workplace. A very nice place to start working.

My Costliest Suburban Experience

The past few days have seen a lot of trips to the Chennai Central Railway Station and the Chennai Airport for those fortunate and unfortunate few of us who are still in this heavenly home. It was one such send off that was before me today. Today the difference being it was in broad daylight rather than the not so chilling night. The plan was to be at the Airport by 4 p.m. As is the case, when I normally go out these days, I take along my mobile's earphones along wherever I go. But today, I was forced to go without them in spite of turning my room upside down in search of it. Later I found out to my astonishment that my mum had mistaken it for her own and hence put it inside her handbag for safekeeping. Anyways, I normally prefer to take my bike, or rather a humble scooty pep, all the way to Airport with the earphones plugged in just to attend calls. But, like the timing, my mind also was thinking something different today. As I am to start working from September 1st, I planned to check out the parking system available at the Chetput station and hence use the suburban services to reach my destination. Whenever my mind works that way, my mobile steps in to break the loneliness and keep me company during the journey. But with no earphones, that trip seemed to be uninviting. After much contemplation, I preferred the suburban locals over my beloved bike for the trip. Then, I hardly knew that how much it was going to cost me!! The plan went on smoothly and I purchased a return ticket from Chetput to the airport and was on time for the send off. After the send off, we were pondering the possibilities of further time pass. But as fate would have it, we all headed back home. With a return ticket and more plans already made for the evening I was happy to head back home. The moment I reached the platform, a local was coming in. I was careful to skip the vendors and head into a normal coach. The scene unfolded as the train started. I turn into the compartment to see a child performing some 'kutikaranais' and moving like a rubber in and out of a small hoop. I couldn't stand watching it. I tried to stand near the exit, but my way was blocked by some guys who were too engrossed in the performance. Luckily, the next station came and I chose to get down and find a compartment further down the train. I found a relatively much emptier compartment with nice cushioned seats and hardly any of them occupied. My heart leapt with joy and I took a window seat wondering how this compartment was so empty. I looked around and was unnerved to see LADIES written in bold across the inner sides of the compartment. But, there were other gentlemen in the compartment, which is why I got on in the first place. So seeking further explanation, I looked around and saw that I had unwittingly chosen a first class compartment. My instincts told me to get down at the next station and find another compartment. But my mind was debating that being a sunday, there will not be any checkers to corner me. I gave in to my mind and I persevered. Meanwhile, the train had reached Saidapet, and an unassuming character got on the train and asked me for my ticket. I knew then, I was cornered. After I handed in my ticket, he told me 'This is first class' and moved away to check others grabbing my ticket. I went behind him and he told me the fine is Rs 295/-. I dont know if he expected anything else, but I conceded it was my mistake and I'll pay. He was slightly taken aback and told me to sit down. Then I guess he expected me to try and reduce the fine, but I took out 300 bucks and he slowly started writing my first fine ticket. By then, Mambalam had passed. I offered to get down in the next station and change compartments. I know it was too little too late, but always better late than never. To my surprise, the checker stalled me saying you can continue travelling in this compartment. I was slightly taken aback, but I had no reason to complain. He chased down a slightly physically challenged couple down to the platform on the next station and moved out of sight. Just as the train was about to move a new checker had come aboard and asked me for the ticket. I explained to him that I just paid the fine and that the guy who fined me told me I can sit here and complete my journey. His immediate retort was 'Still you continue to sit here' not hearing my second part. Now that was really worrying because I couldn't have managed to pay the to be coming fine. Thankfully, my co passenger came to my rescue and told him that I was tellling the truth. The checker accepted it and left me in peace. I was utterly bemused after the second checking and in my confused state I got down at the place I started and headed for the parking lot. On my way home, the first signal I was to pass was changing from green to orange and was to change red in a second. I would have stopped for the signal anyways, but today being special, I was proud to be the first to stall at the STOP line and while I waited I wondered how true was the saying 'Once bitten Twice Shy'....

Kart Attack

The day began as lazily as the past few days. A shout from mum at around nine in the morning woke me up partly. A grumble, a close of door and another crash with a lazy hand on the fan switch. Ah! back again to my precious sleep! I wake up again to a series of irritating buzzes from the calling bell to find that the servant maid is waiting outside my door. Oh! its that time already? I pull myself to the bathroom and finally after half an hour was clean and dry. After a quick brunch at about 2.p.m and an hour or so on the idiot box, I walked upto the new McD outlet nearby to meet my friends.

From there the journey began. I was first introduced to the luxuries of having a WagonR and its surprising capabilities of easily accommodating eight boys who've just about reached the age of 21 (actually one still has not). We chattered our way through the hustle and bustle of a normal Chennai evening traffic (special mention about the Chamier's Road, Cenatoph Road Junction leading to Kotturpuram). And finally we hit the ECR at about 5:30 p.m. After another 20 minutes of ECR traffic we reached our destination outside the city near Sholinganallur.

First Impression: Why the hell did I drive with 7 crazy boys all the way to this place for 5 minutes on track at the cost of 150 bucks? We enter the track and it was a pleasant sight, atleast for the mechies with me (6 out of the 8). The track was probably around 450 metres in length with U-bend and the regular S curve of a normal racing circuit. The entire track was bordered with stacks of tyres for the obvious and appropriate reasons. We had to wait quite a bit because of a corporate crowd that seemed to be spending its day off there. It was worthwhile because the day was into twilight and added to our excitement. The only dampener being the mechies showing off their technical knowledge on a test model.

We split ourselves into groups of four. The first four was a pure mechies race which was incident free. The only notable happening was that one of the unfortunate four was lapped by the rest atleast once with the race leader doing it twice to earn a extra lap! I was pitted with two other mechis and a tricalite. They let me start the race and the first lap was probably my best. I didn't have any problems. The track basically consisted of a high speed straight with a slight curve on one side of the U and another high speed straight with a S in between. My second lap started with a disaster. Two of the other three flanked me at the beginning of the straight and all three with the accelerator to the floor headed for the slightly narrower curve. And before I know what happened the other two were right in front of me without a gap for me to move ahead. When they did pull ahead I went BAM! on to the chicane. A track man pulled my car out of the misery and I continued my race. After several more laps, a hit onto another chicane, I was chased by the race leader again. I fended him off for the two laps until the chequered flag. It was an amazing experience.

We were all (except for one) for another go on the track. Unfortunately, rain played spoilsport and we had to get going. We headed for the relatively new Foodcourt at Acendas for dinner and hit the road home. It was fun to be part of an injury free accident. And it was a nice change from the dull life at home that has become a regularity for the past two months.

Ghajini (Hindi) vs Ghajini (Tamil)

The storyline was pretty much the same in both except the ending. The Hindi version, I felt, was crisper and better. The Tamil one had dragged a twin of the villian and blah, blah... into the story.

The emotional scenes in the Hindi version had more stress and rightly so. The song 'Kaise Mujhe' was a well added entity.

The Hindi version also cut down on the length of certain songs and totally did away with 'Ranghola' song in the tamil version. But I felt the Hindi version sorely missed a duet. Both films' numbers will be remembered for a long time.

The Hindi version was slightly more coherent and consistent. The fight scenes in the Tamil version seem to forget the passage of time.

As far as acting is concerned, Surya slightly scores over Aamir. Surya in the flashbacks is more convincing than his counterpart, though I should say I hardly kept an eye on them during that time. Otherwise they were equal to their tasks.

Jiah Khan's role was more sensible than that of Nayantara's, though I am sure quite a few will disagree.

Pradeep Rawat as villain was similar in both, though I am not sure if he lived upto to the expectations of Bollywood followers. I couldn't find anything wrong.

And Asin was ever vivacious and at her best. In the tamil version, I felt the flashbacks were the best part. As in those parts really lighted up the theatre. It was an equally brilliant potrayal in the Hindi version as well.

These were some points which I could compare in the two versions. I would rate the Hindi version slightly higher than the Tamil version taking into account the above arguments. What about you?

And So, It Began...

One fine morning, the student president came to the campus and we decided that today would be the day.

The past few days had been one of the most irritating days in college. You know, those times when you are full enthu about something and ready to put into action all those ideas into perspective, but are hampered by few people higher up the hierarchy. It is not that they are determined to be road blocks, but they worry about the most trivial of matters, which we students hardly worry about. It was one such time.

Towards the end of the semester in April, when we had those 'so called' study holidays, we made our first attempt to infuse some of our ideas into our convener. We were rebuffed within minutes siting the fact that 'our career determining' exams were round the corner and whatever we had to say could wait. 'Yeah right, we would love to stay back and have a chat with you after exams' I thought. But sadly, we had to. I had decided ages ago that I will stay back, come what may, with a project to fill my time. But my chairman, poor fellow, had an arrangement made in his hometown and had to postpone his plans to accommodate this meeting.

So the 'crucial' exams got over and within hours we were back in his office.

He made us sit down and inquired about our exams and our plans for the holidays. We answered his queries and at the end of the next ten minutes, we were slightly impatient to get on with our job in hand. Alas!, that was just the beginning. The following two hours we were discussing some of the most obscure topics peppered with some unwelcome interventions by a variety of people. And finally when we came to the topic of our interest he was too tired to listen and we were too tired to explain. And at the end of a brief try he tells us that he is going on vacation for fifteen days. God save us. My chairman left home immediately and I was resigned to my project.

Today, he returned bringing with him the good news that 'The Man' is back. We decided that a presentation in print would be our best solution to avoid the diversions. And so we sat down after breakfast at about noon time and incorporated our thoughts, ideas, possible difficulties and their solutions in a forty three page ppt. We fixed an appointment late in the evening. Both of us were hungry and half emptied our pockets at samfox and dhabba one. Unfortunately we couldn't procure the print in campus and had to go to Thiru. We got a mixture of high quality and low quality prints summing up to four copies of the original.

We were already late and hurried to catch the local bus to return and to our utter dismay we found out that all we had was a torn tattered ten rupee note which the conductor duly rejected. After all the delays we had so far, this was the most unexpected and hilarious. But fortunately, one kind young man on the bus offered to buy the tickets for us. I regret that I never asked him his name, but without him we probably would have had to leg three thousand five hundred metres not to mention yet another delay in the process. Thank you dear friend. We rushed to the convener's room and he took our presentation and went through it straight away. And So, it Began...

What It Takes to be a Prof?

As a student, we always crib and complain constantly that our profs are pathetic. They don't know anything. What will we learn from them? What is the point of attending class? We ask so many questions among ourselves. Here I try to answer some of them...

I am more of a student who believes in classroom study than self - study. I generally don't prefer to bunk classes unless I am forced to (or sleeping of course). And three years of college has intrigued me more and more that how the interest invoked by school teachers in studies is way, way higher than that by lecturers in college. A simple example would be, a question by a teacher in school would result in a chorus raucus, while in college it is replaced by collective silence. Why should it be so different to teach in a college?

This thought kept crossing me far too many times while my mind wanders aimlessly. I feel, though I may be wrong, that the lecturers or profs we complain about may actually have had other plans of earning their living. But circumstances change and bang! here they are trying to teach us in class. The point is not many today are actually willing to take up teaching as a profession. How many of you are willing to be a lecturer? The job, one feels is monotonous and boring.

I haven't had much of teaching experience. I just taught a few classes of the 'C++' language to the juniors when I was in second year. It was most enjoyable, mainly because I loved the subject. It was my favourite in class XII. The response I got was encouraging to say the least. Then I also realised that it is not enough to know or love a subject to teach it. The willingness to teach the stuff, the push to make the students understand, the enterprise to infuse interest in the subject are also key ingredients to become a lecturer. But most of all, every lecturer should keep in mind the fact that how it was to be a student in his days and how it should have been...

A Desperate Night

I reached Chennai Egmore after a tiresome journey from Trichy at about 9 pm. I ran, to catch a local to the next station to reach Central to see off a close friend. My stomach began to rumble on the way. I walked up and down the platform in vain searching for my friend. I called him up to find that he is still in the waiting room. Poor fellow, had a huge suitcase (The nerd was on his way to US via Delhi for an intern!). We waited for 2 more minutes for his father to arrive.

We made a move towards platform ten. With a war starting in my stomach, I was able to pull the suitcase somehow, for some distance, in addition to my laptop and backpack. I spent the remaining time, roughly fifteen minutes, gossiping, all the while trying to keep a straight face.

Then after the train left I decided enough is enough and went straight to the Saravana Bhavan there. I extended the cashier 50 bucks and asked for a traditional, but satisfying set of chappathis and curd rice. To my astonishment he informed me that I was four bucks short. I was simply too shocked to protest, yeah right like I could. I took the parcel and reached home by 10 45pm, washed my dirty hands and face and sat down for, what I felt at that time, a sumptuous dinner.

Alas, I realised that it was a drop in the ocean. My mother was not at home nor anybody else. In fact, I was the first inhabitant of the place to spend the night after some ten days. As expected, processed provisions in the house were running low. I raided the fridge at around 11 15pm. A bunch of my favourite dry grapes was never going to be enough. Out of sheer desperation I opened the freezer. To my happiness, I found three dabbas along with frozen ice cream spoons. Now my imagination ran wild, considering the summer season and my deep frying in the day train. I quickly dislodged the stuck dabbas from the freezer and opened them one by one.

The first one had dry green peas. So did the second one. And the third one, no surprises there, green peas again. I was mad. I went to my only solace, the Internet. Just when I was chatting with one of my closest friends, I heard a bell ringing. I was not entirely out of the trance, so as was reasonable a Kwality Walls three wheeler flashed across my mind. My dear friends, it was a bicycle with kulfis, surely not the ones you'd like to have at that moment. I would have had mess food for that matter! And so I slept that night thinking this will be one story with no happys endings.....