The TICKET

He held the reservation ticket in pride as if it was certificate of his merit. Well of course it is a certificate of my merit he thought. Didn’t it take merit in planning ones trip home before hand? Didn’t it take merit in planning to go to office late so that one could go to the ticket counter in time to get the reservation and that too a window seat. Not everybody could do it and precisely that was the reason he had got the ticket. He smiled at his own thoughts and waited for 2nd Sept -11:00pm. It was precisely a day and a few hours away.

On the 2nd Sept at 10:30pm he was standing near his house waiting to catch a rickshaw to take him to the bus stand. From the last 15mins he was standing there checking his watch a bit too frequently. Finally he caught sight of a rickshaw nearing him. He flagged it and it stopped. The Rs 120 which the rickshaw driver demanded was a bit too much but then he did not have time to get into a discussion about how the rickshaw-wallahs or for that matter everybody conspires to get more money out of a software professional.

At 10:56pm he was near the ticket counter where a day back he had got his reservation or as he thought of it his certificate of merit. But now he was in a hurry. He enquired about the bus and was told the bus had already left a minute back. He was confused; he had not planned for this. Well the logical thing to do was to ask about the next bus which left at 11:30pm. The man at the counter got the drift and promptly gave him the seat in the 11:30pm bus after making the requisite entries. He hadn’t hoped that this would be smooth but then he had done it. If the reservation was a certificate of merit this turn around was definitely the WINNER’S CUP!!!!

The bus started on time. He was a bit surprised about this. In the last 6 years of his travels from Pune to Nashik this was possibly the first time any asiad had ever left on time or before time. Things changing for the better he thought to himself and increased the volume of his ipod.

He did not like or despise the Pune Nashik journey but then he had done that journey maybe a thousand times before and would have to do it a thousand times in the future. He just prayed that sleep would come to him easily. He had a hectic day tomorrow starting with getting the Ganpati idol and all the decoration which goes into it. Sleep was what he needed the most. The time his eyes closed the bus had just started off from Nashik Phata. That was the last time he would sleep on the bus.

The hooting of horns, people talking and the lights in the bus broke his sleep. He opened his eyes and instinctively checked his watch. It was 2:30AM and Linkin Park was blasting his head off. He looked out but he could not make sense where the bus had reached. It must be near the Chandanapuri ghat, a traffic jam he thought that is so common in these rains and he prepared to close his eyes. There was some commotion going on near the driver’s cabin, he looked up and saw that some people were getting into his bus. That was not usual for sure. Wasn’t the bus kinda full? And from when did the asiad guys started taking people on board without a ticket? Anyways I have my seat he thought and threw a look of disdain at the people standing.

But then a sight caught his eye and he could not close his eyes the remaining journey. He say a man holding a handkerchief to his head. Blood was dripping from the handkerchief and the man was in great pain. He looked at others and there were people with cuts, bruises, swollen foreheads all looking disoriented. What had actually happened? He enquired about what had happened and he was told that the 11:00PM asiad had met with an accident and that the driver had died on the spot while many passengers were injured.

He could not believe his ears. He went numb for a few seconds. That was supposed to be his bus; he had blamed the rickshaw wallah when he came to know that he had missed the 11PM asaid at Shivajinagar. Now he did not know what to do.

He felt regret at the initial thoughts which had come to his mind when he saw these people boarding the bus. He quickly shifted a bit and offered a part of his seat to the person who was standing near him. The person standing near accepted it gratefully. His seat was no longer cherished, if luck or whatever they say wouldn’t have been on his side he would well have been on the other side.

The person to whom he offered was saying something he thought, but it was not audible and he was not in a position to listen to anything. He was just staring out of the window into nothingness.

Images of the ticket counter when he got the reservation done, the rickshaw ride which made him miss the 11PM bus, the delight on getting the seat in the 11:30PM bus on the earlier reservation without having to haggle for it and finally regret on seeing the condition of his co-passengers started flickering in front of his eyes. They just came by randomly, no connection nothing.

He did not understand how much time passed but on seeing the Nashik Road flyover approaching he got up from his seat fumbled a feeble TAKE CARE to the person next to him and got out of the bus.

He put his hand in his shirt pocket took out the EPITOME of PLANNING (the reservation ticket of the 11:00PM bus) and tore it into countless pieces. He flung the pieces overhead.

All this was never planned was the only thought which came to his mind.

(This write up is inspired from a true story which happened with me on the night of 2nd September 2008. Some facts have been distorted for the sake of story telling.)

CHOTTE TENSION DENEKA; LENEKA NAHI!!!

The recent episode of an IT professional commiting suicide at one of the reputed software cos in India due to WORK STRESS really had me panting. Whatever the media, blogs or all will say I think that it was an act of absoulte immaturity i.e if only work stress is in question.

I understand that like any other sector the IT sector also has the capacity of throwing stress when there is 100% dependency on you, timelines are too stringent, the requirements are changing and must I say that when the management is not capable to handle the escalations which come from the client effectively. And then there is also a very big question about you setting very high standards for yourself.

Even in all of this, i dont think anybody can ever force you to do work atleast in the IT sector. With whatever experience I have here, the IT sector is the place where you can very easily put in your papers if you feel stressed and scout for a better pay scale (even in times of economic slowdown). I myself have taken day off when I felt that I was getting too bogged down by work.

And for a person who has won 3 star performer awards and who has handles a couple of onsite assignements, ending once like due to work stress sounds outright stupid. The moment he felt he was stressed he could have reported it to his line manager, if that was not of help he could have gone higher up in the chain. Almost all software firms have a open door policy when it comes to greivance redressal. All it requires is an e-mail. Or he could have been irresponsible and take a couple of days off to get your thoughts together. You can always report in sick. Its simple. Or you can resign, there are many software cos who would have accepted a visa ready, IIT educated IT pro. This option was both simple and highly lucrative.

No but he chose to end his life. An act of cowardice. The more I ponder on it, the more baffled I am. This just does not add up :(

I am tempted to quote a dialogue from a B grade Hindi movie of which I don't remember the name. All through the movie the VILLAIN has only one dialogue for everyone:

"CHOTTE, TENSION DENEKA; LENEKA NAHI!!!!"

45 mins....kya kare kya na kare!!!!

With the monsoons setting in, I relegated my bike to my building parking and started taking the company bus. The last rainy season I did endure the rains to get to office and back but the entire episode was not exactly comfortable. Sitting wet in a Air Conditioned office for some 8 odd hours is not a joke. Well thank God I didnt catch pneumonia the one which is so often mentioned in Bollywood flicks...
So after getting the feel of the discomfort this time around I decided to take the bus to the office starting 1st of June (that officially when the monsoon begins atleast for me.)
But I was soon to find out that if the bike ride to office was ridden with traffic snarls, rains, potholes and the occasional encounter with the traffic policeman the ride in the bus was more painstaking.
On the very first bus ride i understood that to get a seat in the bus you have to be at the Infy bus stop some 10 mins early. I am fortunate that a bus starts from my place or it would really not matter if I am there 10 mins early or 10 hours early. Getting to the bus stop 10 minutes early was the easy part.
The bus takes some 45 mins to get to the office. On the first ride after securing the window seat (for the first ride too i got 10 minutes early..was actually skeptical about the timing) what struck me was that; what was I going to do for 45 mins!!!! Thats hell lot of a time..and whatever i do in these 45 mins is surely gonna impact my enire day in office. If I sleep, I will be feeling sluggish to start with in office if I try to think too much looking out of the window, i might exhaust myself too much. If I call somebody up to while away time talking the only thing I would be shouting will be "Kai, zhorat bolte ka!!!" (What , will you please speak up). So I had to have a plan to pass these crucial 45 mins of the day. And then in my first ride with nothing to do I started chalking out a plan as to how to while away those 45 mins...

Experiment 1: Newspaper
To while away time in the bus I decided to read the daily newspaper. It was not a original thought, I had seen many peeps in the bus do that. I buy a copy of the TOI and get in the bus. Now TOI comes with a complimentary copy of the Pune Mirror: a cheapo tabloid... Anyways I get in the bus, get a window seat and keeping the Pune Mirror aside start skimming the paper. The bus starts filling in and very soon I get a neighbour who it seems is trying to occupy more than his share of the seat. This usually happens because many software professionals cannot be classified as a single entity especially when they occupy seats in the public transport. After minor adjustments we kinda fit in and settle down. I am waiting for a pothole or a speed breaker to unsetle us so that I can immediatley seize more of the ground (read seat).
I am done reading the first page..now what....who and how will anyone turn to page 2. That would take an enormous effort. First Ill have to disengage my right shoulder which was stuck behind my nieghbours left shoulder and risk losing ground. Also with the wind blowing in from the window kya guarantee that I would be able to turn to pg 2 and fold the newspaper without getting it all in my face. In that eventuality it will reqire even more effort. On top of all this my neighbour was sleeping, it was not worth it at all. Newspaper scrapped.

Experiment 2: Reading a novel
With the newspaper out of the window, i switched to reading novels. I figured that novels being smaller than newpapers would not involve much page turning effort and also that way I will not have to curb my curiosity till I got back home to continue on my story. I was nearing a solution I felt.
So the next day I started with the novel. I was engrossed in it, I was happy too that i had found the solution but just then I heard the blaring of the bus speaker. It was RADIO MIRCHI. It was also there with the newspaper experiment just that it hadnt registered in my head. Now that I didnt have issues with page turning this blaring radio was getting to me. I looked around and my colleagues were enjoying it. It was foolish anyways to expect that the driver would lower the volume or switch it off because only one passenger was getting DISTURBED. I tried to concentrate more but i was an effort, also i was losing grip on the novel. I shut the novel and gave a disgruntled stare to speaker. I mocked me I think with a boring SUD (call me sudharshan) PJ.

Experiment 3: Music
I will counter the BUS SPEAKER with high definition music. My apple ipod was the answer.ha ha ha (i gave a devilish laugh..). So the next day i came all decked with the ipod (my own), cool looking headphones (borrowed from my roomie) and took the window seat. I started the ipod and couldnt hear even a bit of the radio. I was happy even though my ears were beginning to hurt thanks to the high volume i had set to counter the radio. But the happiness was short lived. I got a pat on the shoulder and my neighbour asked me to turn the volume down. The ipod was blasting and the music was ripping out of the headphones and disturbing my neighbour. I had to lower it. But then for the rest of the ride I listened to AEROSMITH+Abhijeet, IRON MAIDEN+Shankar Mahadevan.....

Experiment 4: Shut up and look out
This was the last option. Atleast in the monsoons it is green and good to look outside, so I think I should not have any troble in doing this. But many times I dont get a window seat then I have to stare at my neighbours face when he/she is looking out (because his/her face is blocking the view) or gaze into nothingness. I started to read the instuctions pasted on the inside of the bus but then they remain the same and I have memorised most of it. So if I dont get the window seat I just SHUT UP.

And then they ask me in office, "Hey Advait, why you seem so quiet when you get in?" and I whisper to myself, " SHUT UP!!!!"

The FE Diary..

27th Jan 2017, VVIP’s, corporate moguls’ and the media were all crowding the already crowded gateway of the Taj Hotel in Mumbai. It was not a ‘Filmfare Night’ but even more important if not glamorous. Tonight one of India’s best entrepreneurs was to be chosen from a list which was not less imposing than the 2002 Brazilian Line up which won the Soccer World Cup. Inside the ‘Dhirubhai Auditorium’ the tension was mounting. I could see the tension on others faces but something in me still made me feel comfortable.
After the initial ‘speechery’ of the ‘distinguished’ guests (most of whom didn’t know anything about business); the ever cheerful hostess called upon Mr. Anil Ambani to present the ‘Best Entrepreneur Award’. The whole gathering went into frenzy and the next thing I remember was that I was flocked by all the ‘money-makers’, reporters the public waiting outside was already shouting for me. With some help from the security I made my way to my Benz and drove away to my parent’s place. In my house, the reception was no less heart-warming. I could see the fulfillment in my mother’s eyes and the happiness on my father’s face, their confidence in me was finally bearing fruit. Among all the celebrations, my mother did not forget to remind me of my formative years at (arguably) the best engg. institution in the country; no marks for guessing- The GCOEP!
Yes, the GCOEP had indeed done a lot in shaping my personality and character. The unusual ‘tension-freeness’ I experienced at the awards ceremony even when others were sweating due to the heat of the moment, was all because of the GCOEP. No, I had not forgotten anything of those four glorious years at the college. Those were undoubtedly the best days of my life.
Suddenly, I remembered that immediately after the Std. XII exam and all through the FE I had maintained a diary which had every major incident explained in detail. But was it possible to get that diary after a gap of almost 15 years? I gave it a shot! I looked through all my old books, right from the then outdated MS Office Manuals to the ever-reliable Manorama Yearbooks. Amidst the ‘dust and heat’ of bygone days I spotted a brown coloured book. You are right; it was my ‘treasure chest’. It was the key to my glorious past. It was my FE Diary.
My happiness knew no bounds. I felt the same joy and satisfaction which our Graphics lecturer must have felt while delaying my submission because it was flawless! [Caution: - Never submit a near perfect submission. Some obvious errors must be present so that the intelligent lecturer may correct them after hours of scanning and finally take your submission with the same errors but with good marks.]
The ‘CAUTION’ statement was at the fag end of the diary. I noticed it as I quickly browsed through the yellowing manuscript. I settled down immediately and opened the first page; [don’t get bored, the ‘Preface’ and ‘About the Author’ columns were not included in this abridged edition.]. The diary came straight to the point.

22nd May 2002:- ‘JUDGEMENT DAY’
“The final verdict is passed; Advait Borate scores 288 in his PCM group.”
288 did to some extent disappoint me but there was no reason feeling sorry for the train had already left the station. I desperately wanted COEP (Mech.); but the above aim was fast becoming a dream.

28th June 2002:- ‘THE ADMISSION ADRENALINE’
“The application forms for engg. admissions were up for sale. Got one for myself.”
What followed were a series of debates regarding the admission rounds. The above programs were a daily show on ‘Advait T.V’ and more often than not Advait himself was the host.

15th July 2002:- ‘ADMISSION MAGZINE: THE TRUE STORY’
“Round IA begins. I went to Pune to COEP today, saw the campus and more importantly got a seat in Electrical in the same college. My aim is partially fulfilled.”
Well, the initial disappointment about the std. XII setback was forgotten to some extent. But the seat that I secured was also due to the help of ‘Vasantdada Patil’ (Ex-CM of Maharashtra). Had he not given permission to start private engg. colleges, getting into COEP would have remained a dream. The subsequent rounds (only two to be precise) didn’t bring great news. So finally I became ‘Advait @ GCOEP (Electrical)’ [Not my e-mail ID]

5th Sept 2002:- ‘THE HOSTEL HOTCH-POTCH’
“I am in Pune; the hostel admission list was displayed 4 hours late (quite early by govt. standards). I did not get hostel had to find alternate accommodation.”
Well, it was the most disgusting day of my life. After waiting for 4 long hours I find that I am ‘hostel-less’. I bet I can never understand how they calculate the seat distribution as far as the hostel is concerned.

20th Oct 2002:- ‘THE RAGGING RAGA’
“In the hostel, I was ragged (Shh! talk silently, ragging is prohibited at least the sign boards say so!). It was the usual stuff. Hope I can do something innovative the next year.”
I must say that after this experience I am ready to face the rigours of the world. I certainly feel that ragging (not of the extreme kind) does help personality development. The ragging continued till the end of the first semester and it all culminated with a ‘Fresher’s Party’. After this, all our ‘Sirs’ were reduced to ‘Pals for Life’.

27th Nov 2002:- ‘THE SUBMISSION HEAT’
“The heat is on and even an AC can’t cool it. The lights in all the rooms are on throughout the night and the boys never look tired”.
The submission does help us to know how long the nights are. After the ordeal ends, the room is littered with a bucket, a glass, a bulb and yes many sheets (which finally end up being used for the college gathering promotion campaign). It is a nice experience and after this you understand what the song ‘Raat Baki’ really meant.

2nd Jan 2003:- ‘CROUCHING PL’s HIDDEN EXAMS’
“The joy of the New Year celebrations were diluted due to the pending first semester exams. The PL’s were really demanding”.
In the PL after slogging for 16-17 hrs. a day, in a pensive mood we do think “If only I had studied regularly”. But this never happens. Every semester result is decided in the 15 days of the PL. The actual exams went as usual but with less surveillance (to everyone’s surprise).
This diary reading experience was even more interesting than a Sherlock Holmes novel. Each and every incident was unfolding very slowly just like a newly wed bride during her nuptial night. It was all so comforting.
The next thing as far I remember was ‘Valentine’s Day’. I quickly turned the pages, but could not find the relevant entries. I checked the page nos. and found some pages missing.
I remembered the fight I had with my roomy; as he was secretly reading my diary and the missing pages were a casualty of this battle. I did not feel sorry for the casualties but now the loss seemed irreparable. I just sat there looking at the setting sun, thinking of all the fun I had at GCOEP and as the day ended, another chapter in the life of a COEPian had ended with a promise of a new day full of worthy challenges for a COEPian.