Tuesday, March 05, 2013

On March Fourth...


I'm checking mail at office when I hear a gasp behind me.

Yahoo! Mail?!? Seriously?

Yes, Yahoo! Mail. Companion of my youth. Home to my spam. Friend since 2001. And houses a very special folder.

No, not that folder. That's on my D drive and is called "Taxes 2008"

rect_senti, this one reads. And has read since 2001. In it, 5 mail threads that hold memories of that day.

March 4th, 2001. The day we marched forth.

Twelve years and a day from today was our final RecFest. 3 years earlier, we had watched as CompSci narrowly got pipped to first place and thought to ourselves "That's okay, we'll do it next year when we enter the department." We were the invincibles from Section A after all, having won everything in our sights in our first year in college. And Section A was mostly Compscis. It was just a matter of time till RecFest domination was ours.

We were wrong.

We finished 5th of 10 teams the next year. Memories of the Vajpayee bus to Lahore fiasco haunt me to this day. Yes, we did get Sharmila to run backwards to simulate the bus moving away from her. And yes, she did play Benazir Bhutto. And yes, the idea did sound better in our head at the time.

We finished second to last the year after that. The rabbithole was deep; it was almost an abyss now.

And so came RecFest 2001. 2 days, dozens of events, one department left standing. Optimism was not high. ECE's history of domination was plastered in our face everytime we went to the mess. They'd always had this passive aggressive approach to the CompScis and never did it manifest itself as much as during RecFest. This was one thing they were so much better than us at and they never let us forget it. Anto decided to go home. He was the smartest kid in our batch and he didn't think we had a chance. There was a message there.

But no, we didn't listen. We prepared in all earnest. We tried to get all our batch involved. We sent pleading and threatening mails alternatingly to the second and third years to try and get them involved. Thatha and Sankar trained hard to best present their (admittedly middling) dancing skills. We wrote dozens of scripts for day two's Manoranjan event. We figured that if we were in a good position at the end of day one, we had a shot at this. Day one was the challenge - most events included singing and dancing and talent of some kind. That was ECE's domian. If only we could get some points there, day two was the lit events. We'd do well there. Optimism was sneaking back. Things were abuzz. Even snarky Professor Mala's comments couldn't get us down.

And then day one happened.

It was an unmitigated disaster. We were on less than ten points and were down close to twenty.

Salai, OC and I stood in front of the scoreboard.

"I'm not seeing it, da. We'll need to sweep the lits and still get some points from the Movie spoof and Manoranjan. We suck at those" - Me

"That was just bad luck. We can still do it. Trust me" - Salai

"Don't worry da, we will rape the lits tomorrow" - OC

"This kind of a gap has never been made up in RecFest, da. I'm not seeing where we get the points from"

The mood that night at the SJB was sombre. All the excitement of the past few days had been replaced with an overwhelming sense of deja vu. It was the worst of the last three years all over again.

Oh man, not again, I wanted to curse. Please not again.

Day two didn't look bright. We hadn't figured out what to do for Manoranjan yet. Movie spoof script was still being written. There were the lits, but there were just too many points to get back.

We worked through the night. Judges at RECT tended to have a soft spot for gimmicks. Mech the previous year had their dancers doing a blindfolded dance. ECE had strewn hay on the stage to do a village theme the year prior. Both had won. Ramesh came up with the ridiculous idea that we'd do a dance with people on one leg. A one-legged dance, the ultimate gimmick. Riduculous at a level I'd never seen. I was not hopeful.

The winds of change blew the next day. Literally. Simulated winds blew large banana leaves across the stage as we presented "More pattein", a quite ludicrous take on all things Shah Rukh Khan. And we were third. Holy mother of God! We'd scored our first points on a big stage event in three years. Maybe there was hope after all.

OC and I brought in 5 What's the Good Word points to move things along. The Ad Mad boys got us a 3rd place. The tamil crossie brought us a 2nd and a 3rd. We were moving.

We ran across all over campus for the Treasure Hunt. It was exhausting. Ashwath and OC did most of the brainwork, all of us had to do the legwork. We kept pushing Ramya and Alak to keep going.

Under the {mailbox} in the Highest Decision maker was the last clue. How we cursed the organizers when we figured it out. We ran to the SC hoping we were in the top three. There was no one there. We were first. Our first 10 points!

No time to celebrate. Gops and I rushed to the quiz. I cracked one on City of Angels. It was the only English movie I'd watched that last year and it just fell in place. And then one on Lucifer. Thank God for all those religious instruction sessions through school. Tholpi cracked an insane clue about Yoko Ono. And we were there. 5 more points.

Inch by inch we took that day. Point by point. And something interesting was happening.

There were people cheering us. This most apathetic of departments was suddenly turning out to cheer its own. People who'd never been to a lit event turned up to cheer Ashwath and Simha as they got us 5 more in the Pot Pourri. Pranav, the nice Gujju boy who assiduously hated all things Tam and had refused to learn a word in his three years there, was standing up on the desk cheering as Gops mimed "Barn" in the Tam Dumb C and OC cracked it.

And suddenly we were in the lead. We'd done it. If even for a moment. By just 2 points over ECE, but nevertheless. The winds they were a-changing.

3 events to go. Crossie, Creative Writing and Manoranjan. Crossie worth 5, 3 and 2 points. Manoranjan with 10, 6 and 4. And Creative Writing with 3, but we had no idea if anyone from CompSci had even turned in an entry.

We were optimistic but cautious. OC, Gops, Ashwath and I did a quick review. 8 points from the Crossie and we would be up by 10. Even the inevitable Manoranjan disaster wouldn't matter. OC and I had been the second best crossie team on campus for three years (after Sidin and whoever Sidin chose to partner that day). And Sidin wasn't participating. A 1-2 was possible.

We'd just come back from 20 points on day one. It had never been done before. Surely this would happen too. It was fate, I thought. And all it needs is for me to win this. Come on, I'd seen this in so many movies. My chance to hit the winning shot and be a hero!

But no, it didn't happen that way. We started badly and halfway through were 3rd. Ashwath and Simha were a close second but the ECE team was ahead. We were running out of time and questions. The enthusiastic CompScis in the audience were getting despondent.

I still see it when I close my eyes. Last round of questions. Ashwath and Simha grabbed a point. They were just one behind now. The question was to us, and we missed it. Ashwath hit the buzzer. Answer and they would win. Miss and they finish second.

He didn't know the answer! He'd just hit the buzzer. He looked at the board trying to work it out. The crossie master gave him 5 seconds. It was a tough clue. We hadn't cracked it in 30 seconds. Ashwath standing there, staring at the board, working it out in his head. The time's ticking over. With seconds left, "Got it". He cracks it.

Up 9 points. Manoranjan to go. History beckons. We're not safe yet. Can we score points in the Manoranjan? Will ECE win first and pip us by a point? We were hopeful, but not confident. The Manoranjan was the ultimate gimmick contest. Was ours good enough for points? I wasn't hopeful.

Last event. All of us in the Barn. I'd done my part. Now just to sit and watch. And pray and hope. We're up. We do our one-legged thing. People seem to like it. Do the judges though? Don't know. Nervous.

And then between two teams performing there's an announcement.

"We would like to announce the winners of the Creative Writing."

Shit, we'd forgotten about that one.

"The first and only prize, for three points, goes to Subhash G. of Computer Science."

Subhash?!? Sociopath, misanthrope and possible future axe murderer Subhash? Apparently, he'd sent in an entry. And won!

3 points to our lead of 9. A lead of 12. We'd done it!

The Barn exploded. There were whoops and whistles and screams and high-fives and backslaps and hugs and chest bumps and laughs and smiles and so much more.

We'd done it!

We streamed outside the barn. CompScis were celebrating everywhere. A moment for the ages. 20 points down on day one.

We'd done it!

We had done it.

We soaked in the moment. Just let it in. OC, Subhash, Gops, Sankar, Ramesh, me. Just sitting there next to the Barn letting it all soak in. 3 years of expectation and disappointment. Of hope and humiliation. Of dreams and despair. And now this moment was ours.

We had done it.

Of course, it never ends that simply. ECE filed a protest of some kind disputing Subhash's Creative Writing win. That set me off on a drunken tirade. Without a single drop of alcohol in me. Three years of pent up frustration led to this sharp discourse on what I thought of ECE and their whiny ways. Subhash listened open-mouthed, not believing that this was coming from me. The arrogance of it all - they were down 9 points and were complaining because they believed that they would win Manoranjan and we wouldn't place. Of course, we expected the same thing. But how dare they?

Nothing came of it of course. We kept our Creative writing points and to top it all off, took second in the Manoranjan.

The victory was secure.

We assembled at SJB later that night. Things were quieter, more at peace. We laughed and we joked, we cheered and reminisced. The senti final years that we were, we lectured the juniors on not looking back and continuing to do great things. It remains one of the sweetest moments of my life.

I looked around that day. I realized many of us wouldn't be here in a few months. We'd go on to different parts of the world, do different things, learn new things, meet new people, fall in love, live our lives. Some of us would become great engineers, some of us great managers, and hopefully, some of us great people. But tonight we were brothers. We had come together. People who hardly spoke to each other some days, had worked together, behind and in front of the scenes, doing, helping, participating, cheering. For two glorious days, we were CompScis all. Like brothers at the end of a hard day's work, we rejoiced in each other's company.

There were no smartphones in those days. No videos of Ramesh hopping on one leg. No likes for Ashwath's heart-stopping crossie comeback. No soundcloud recording of the booming compsci compsci chant. No twitter feed as we clawed back on day two.

And yet, the memories remain as fresh as yesterday. Gops pinged me on gtalk this morning and all he said was "Happy March Fourth". And the joy just spread through my heart.

Thanks, Gops. I've been meaning to write of that RecFest for years. Of those memories.

Of the day we marched forth.

PS: Salai, OC and Sankar sent the below mail (one of many) the day after RecFest. It's one of the 5 in rect_senti and best captures the experience.


Famous quotes:

At end of recfest '98
"we'll do it after we enter the dept" - aravind kumar(tambi)

End of recfest '99
"it's ok. it was just our debut. we'll do it next time" - salai

Day after recfest 2000, morning 4 am
"we'll rape them next time" - nikhil

1 day after recfest 2000
"salai, promise to mail me good news after recfest 2001" - prathiba prakashan (2000 pass out)

2 days after recfest 2000
"machan give everything u can next time" - vinod reddy (2000 pass out)

1 week b4 recfest 2001
"lets go out with pride" - mansur
"am going home. have stayed here last two times only to ..." - anto
"i thought Recfest was only for the first years" - kvi

One day b4 recfest 2001
"cancel the lab?? what for? u were 2nd last lasttime. u want to be
the last this time or what?" - mala

End of day 1, recfest 2001
"its o.k. we've seen worst" - sankar balaji(aadu)
"how can it happen again?" - roop
" don't lose hope just bcos of defeat" - ramesh
"don't worry da we will rape the lits tommorrow" - oc
"that was just bad luck.we can still do it. trust me" - salai

End of day 2, recfest 2001
"please observe two minute silence for raghu's death" - tholpi
"we did it. i can't believe it. we've won recfest da" - salai
"..they spend a week practicing, a fortune on props, they paint their face, they buy a ten mile cloth and  spend all their punga-abilities on Recfest, and who took the prize?..." - mansur
"they download a whole damn quiz book from the net and mug it up. and  who won quiz? they cram with crossies in mess, under the bed, in the class, in sleep, in toilet.......and who won crossie?" - mansur
"in rape we trust" - oc
"we r always placed first" - nikhil
"on march 4th we marched forth" - salai
"oh my! we had to stunt with chairs and dance in one leg to pull it off" - salai
"2nd yrs! thanx. u brought luck to the dept." - salai
"hey beeps!!! u lost. learn to accept defeat with grace. u r going to do it all ur life" - salai
"they can very well have the creative writing they fought for. we'll still &%^ them." - mansur
"thanx machan. u beat ece for us" - ramesh (eee)
"at least u didn't let eee win" - ilango (ece)
"sikkim is in your side" - karthik (mech)
"comsci comsci comsci comsci comsci comsci " - comscis

One day after recfest
"now i know why its lonely on the top" - salai
"let's not show off too much" - roop
"winning recfest is tougher than it seemed to be. now i know" - oc

Right now
"enough...lets go to mess.." - kuppa
"now i think i have time for dinner" - aadu


Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Bye

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak out because I was Protestant.

Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

Martin Niemöller

Thanks, H. You embody that truly rare spirit of rightness and the courage to fight for someone else. You inspired the best in me. I'm going to miss you.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

I know, I know, I know!

But no more.

Two of our finest lost in less than a month.

The smoke sneaks away
Guilty of its crime
As the earth weeps of genius
That it meets before its time

The words, they live on
In pages often turned
In hearts and in souls
In memories forever burned

A warm tingly sun
Filter coffee in the morn
Warmth left behind
Long after they've gone

But this moment we mourn
The loss beyond measure
Peace to you, kind sirs
The memories we will treasure

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Thursday, December 27, 2007

Life

Born
Eyes shut so tight
He opens them
The world's so bright

Steps
One, two, three and four
Stumbling and falling
But a world to explore

Youth
Delights with friends
Laughter and bows
Days with no ends

Bored
He troubles mom today
She nudges him
Get out of my way

Brakes
And tires squeal
But no use
Is under that wheel

Gone
And soon out of sight
Leaves him there
Eyes shut so tight

A couple of weeks back, a friend of mine saw a puppy get run over. I wrote this then. I don't usually write serious rhyme; most of what I wrote at IIM-A was nonsense verse :). I enjoyed writing this.

Sunday, September 09, 2007

Revisited

Two years, eleven months and fourteen days.

And yet, it feels like yesterday.

Sitting in D#2007 on that dusty blue chair, a pile of dirty clothes balanced precariously on its back, my suitcase left at the door with a promise to be unpacked, the Ahmedabad dust layered on everything like a lace sheet, my thoughts and my heart racing as word after word flowed.

I played poker that night. Cards held close to my chest, I stared at Fate, looking for a sign. The slightest flinch or the twitching of the eye lids; anything to let me know how the cards stacked up against me. But I saw in her eyes the icy blankness of the greatest card player the world has ever known. And on her lips the seductive half-smile that had led millions to their doom. And thousands to glory.

I had faced the situation a million times before. Always to totter at the edge, and then fold.

And in that moment of trepidation, when years of playing it safe screamed for me to fold, something happened. I watched almost as a different person as my hands enveloped my pile of chips and with one last longing caress, pushed them forward. From the depths of nothingness, I heard my voice say the words.

"All in."

I looked up at Fate again. She looked back at me, curious. Her eyes twinkled for just a second.

And then she smiled.

Two years, eleven months and fourteen days.

But why re-visit this moment in time now?

Because Fate once again sits across the table. The half-smile yet again out in force. The hands and the eyes as steady as ever.

But they are met this time with nerves as icy. I put my hands again around the pile of chips. A half-smile on my lips to match her own, I push the chips forward towards her. The voice this time betrays none of the fear it did in the past. Our eyes meet.

"All In."

She smiles and lays down her cards. My eyes never leave hers. Her cards are meaningless. Because I have learned that when you go all in against fate, you always win. Even when you lose.

I smile.

Fate is a wonderful mistress, warm and giving. But she's a terrible master.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Excuses

Ooh, Aah, Ouch...suffering from the head-cold from hell. More tomorrow.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Of roads travelled and forgotten

And then there was another one.

Of course there was this huge gap between the two, but of such gaps in interest, in resolutions, in decisions lies this wondrous instrument called my mind.

Now that I've used shameless self-glorification to hide my equally shameless lazy nature, let's get to actually putting keystroke to editor.

Hmm...why now? To answer the "why blog at all" component of that, would have to answer in 4 words. Mansur, Alien, 1Across, mansurna. 4 ids. 4 distinct phases of a process of evolution so unique that it occurs once in a lifetime, in every lifetime. But 4 phases that are now just a series of neurological connections in a storage system of perfect storage and arbitary retrieval. As I think back over those years - the IES days of standing outside the gate for one glance of a bob of curls in the back seat of a tempo van, the Campion days of hopeful prelims and hopeless finals, the Rectian days of deep fundas, deeper thookams (zzzzzzzzzz for the uninitiated) and the deepest pongals life had to offer, and finally the IBM days of wide-eyed wonder turned to twinkle-eyed excitement turned to teary-eyed frustration turned to bleary-eyed boredom - I see a series of snapshots. An incident here, a quote there. Snapshots of a life that's offered so much. And one I would not trade for the world. Like the Bangalore urban roadscape, life is this series of one-way streets which takes you along a path just long enough that you learn all you can there and have reached what you need to move onto the next one-way street that jumps upon you at just that moment. But when I search for the thought behind that incident, the feeling behind that quote, the emotion as I barreled down that street, all I am left with is a blank.

But I digress. Philosophical meanderings and otherwise, this is about primarily just those one-way streets that I've traversed. The incident and the quote put to print, to be read when the arbitary retrieval system no longer finds the inclination to retrieve the two. And to trigger synapses elsewhere. And with an emphasis on perhaps one of the most exciting one-way streets I'll be travelling through. Rue de Wimwi. No, not rue. Rue. The CoggerBanjo years? Or perhaps the Turbo years? The Manssssssssssur years, maybe? Only the divine steering wheel knows. What I do know is that it's been a ride for the ages thus far. And it's promising to be much much more.

And thanks to the advice of one Messr. Ramki alias Jupee alias The Original Love Doctor, the decision to do something I was paid to do but rarely did in IBM, namely document, came about. A blogspot was promptly obtained, a placemarker put in place, the mental creative pencils were all sharpened. And promptly put in cold storage for the best part of three months. Except of course for those WAC reports.

Which brings me to the "Why now" part of it? Well, I don't really know why. A feeling I guess that the next few months are going to be something I don't want to miss. A vacation which got me thinking, and a need to organize an increasingly spiralling train of thought. In any case, here I am, at 4:17 am in the morning, 2 minutes away from the Publish Post button, with ARR crooning "Yeh jo hai desh teraaa" off WinAmp, a sunrise away from Chapter 2, murdering metaphors and doing something like strangling similes.

So, what exactly do I want to put to print that will so change the way the world operates and make the Earth a better place to live in. Ah, the self-glorification bit again I see. Coming back to Earth, it'll be a reflection of me. Meaning there will be some sports, some movies, some books, some lits, some acads, some music, some philosophizing, some moralizing, some lecturing, some dreaming, some hoping, some smiling. And of course a lot of words. But it'll always be me.