Such Animality induces Mad Anger!

This is in wake of the public outrage over the New Delhi rape case, demanding death penalty for the culprit. The protests have left many wondering if such a demand (if successful) will actually lead to any reduction in the heinous crime. And many more are just venting their anger out virtually.

Well, so much for hollow-virtual protests! 

Here's what EACH one of us CAN do for a gradual but sure change!


Guys:
1. Next time people in your group talk disrespectfully about a girl, have the guts (rather, be man enough) to shut them up! There and then.

2. The words "Totaa", "Maal", "Item", "Haryaali", "Meri Property" aren't cool. But you are the ones laughing loudest at 'jibes' like these. Can you avoid commodifying girls completely?

3. Can you please at least stop appreciating vulgarity so openly, specially in the movies? Because clearly some men are so incapable of ending it at that.



Girls: 
Just demanding justice isn't enough, a swing downward needs a forceful swing upward for equilibrium! So

1. Join a self-defense class

2. Carry a knife with you at all times

3. Protest NOT for Death Penalty (that's going lenient on the rapist). Protest for a more TORTURE-ing punishment!

A deeply disturbed Delhi Girl. Wishing for peace. Amen.

A Pinch of Salt

# 1
If each dream were big
And they did come true
Then who'd do the dishes
Or work for others
Like you and I do
For such low a price
Who'd cut your hair?
Who'd ever have the time
To just stand and stare?



# 2
Ignored gags
Conversation drags
New friends, new places
This ice-breaking bit
Everything, all of it
Such a crappy shit!



# 3
Hi Bangalore, (Or rather Hi India?)
"Give me some cleaner roads,
Give me some places not made worse by rain
Another one of your wet, garbage ridden corners
and I'm gonna throw-up once again!"

Dreams Don't Die

A body adrift

In the clear vastness

Disintegrating, floating

Immersed, absorbed

In the tranquil waters

Flowing through

Surrendering to Solitude

A comfort that absolves

And amid this ease

A Vortex builds

With a rebellious intensity

Ripping apart

Each revealed particle

Actualizing

Its essence of existence

Collapsed yet free

The detached pieces

Floating loosely

In the massive black hole

Getting pulled

Into a blinding whiteness

Where

Quietly, softly,

A dream gets reborn

Rising

Waiting to shine

What's Better?

You there, the one

With a rounded belly

Chin held high

In egotism, with welly

Leather belts and

Big fat pockets

Sharp eyeballs

In cold eye-sockets

You there, the one

With your upper crust chick

Haughty strides

Dresses slick

Such pride, such envy

Such high heeled shoes

Incapable of compassion

Manipulated rues

Why do you see me

With ridicule and hate?

When I stand in anticipation

At your shut gate?

Is it because

I beg you for food?

Or do my frayed clothes

Appear rude?

My face fatigued,

And my manners crude?

Oh I get it,

It must be because

I stereotyped too

Excuse me, I forgot

That’s the one thing

Done best by you

And pardon me

When I dare to state

That even in my

Haplessness and misery

I feel great,

Because, given a choice

I'm pretty sure

Anytime, anywhere

I’d rather endure

A hard sustenance

A poor house, falling apart

Than be like you

With a hollow character

and a poor heart

Chimes

She falls into her abyss
a void so vast
deep down, melting, dissolving
into the open skies
breathing into a
a giant clear universe
bathed in countless
softly shimmering stars
like pearls floating
atop the drowsy water
making softer tinkling sounds
dyed in subtle hues
of grays and blacks and blues
where silent dreams
glide gently, like feathers
awed, consumed, possessed
by a surreal world
the world of a day-dreamer
or an escapist?

My Valedictory Speech - 2012 :)

I still remember the first day I came into the campus. Through the cluttered Mumbai roads and rains I couldn't hide my disappointment at seeing the "unwelcoming"  gates of the campus and the chaos outside of it. But once inside, my expression changed completely. All the greenery was too good for my poor-eyesight. The Kresit building, hostel 11, Powai Lake, the temple, Sameer Hill, the lanes and the quiet... everything seemed so welcoming. This was to be my home for the next 2 years, and I was looking forward to it.

And now as I stand here, with just two weeks more for this journey to end (If I graduate this year, hopefully :P). Just two more weeks of college life for most of us, I can definitely say the time here has made us strive to achieve our potentials, and has left some amazing memories.

Einstein once said, “Education is what remains after one has forgotten everything he learned in school.” What will we remember about IIT Bombay in two weeks, after forgetting all about Networks, Graphics or... ITPM?
Seniors, Juniors, Batch-mates - Friends.

Friends from all parts of India with their peculiar accents - Learning Khyamadema, ami jol khaabe... Vedi Mulgi aahe re... Inge po, Inge wa.. was a lot of fun! In the beginning there was a common joke on the names of our classmates... Malani, Nihilani, Rajwani, Gokani, Chhatani, Patani... kaise kaise naam waale students hain... par kuchh bhi kaho... sab ke sab studd hain yaar! No wonder then that I experienced apprehension and self-doubt looking around, but this was gradually replaced with a confidence and a quite resolve as I became acclimated to IIT B. I learned a lot from the other students. My respect and appreciation for them rapidly increased as I became more aware of the numerous bonds we had in common. I also made several friendships along the way that will hopefully last a lifetime. So much so that now its hard to believe that these same crazy people are going to be professionals in world's top companies!

We will also remember the most important pillars of the institute, our Professors. It is said - to err is human, to forgive is divine. But now there's a better version of it - to err is human and to really foul things up needs a computer. And trust a Computer Science Engineer to do just that. Who will understand this better than our teachers. They inspire, hold our hands, forgive, forget and guide us through our difficult times. They are like Petrol Pumps, (given the price hike, this seems even more relevant now) - we stop momentarily at their doorstep, and they, having filled our knowledge tank with vision and confidence, wave us off to a fulfilling journey called life.

Oh yes, I’m reminded of yet another version that I cooked up: To err is Student, to forgive Guide. And I owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Pushpak Bhattacharyya for being my mentor and for guiding me throughout my two years. I am also thankful to the entire CSE Faculty for the immense inspiration they have been to all of us here.

We may have disappointed you many times, but leaving the institute we do realize that we carry with us a burden, a Privileged responsibility of being an IIT Alumnus. And all of us here hope to give our best to everything we do in our life ahead and make IIT Bombay proud of us.

And lastly we’d always remember the time spent here at IIT Bombay. From First semester - with the stress of not being able to work enough when you know you Have to, to the Last semester – with the stress of trying to work when you know you don't want to. Birthdays, friendship days, Traditonal days, Department trips, Class trips, and numerous treats. PG Sports, PG Cult, GRA, India winning world cup, KPL, Night outs, meeting strict deadlines, apology letters for coming late to the networks class, trying not to doze off in some other class. And of course getting 'First Zeroes'.

Jokes apart, through the failures and achievements here, I have learnt how to believe in myself. How to not be worried too much in times of failures. And how to remain humble during the high times. In short, how to handle failures objectively and take success subjectively. And in this the college has provided a stimulating, caring, and a very supportive environment.

In fact, following lines may just well sum up what I want to say:

With each passing hour the desire escalates

with each passing day the strivers yearn

Don't want this rigour to cease at all

Don't want an end to this sojourn.

And even as we have to leave

With cherished memories and self-belief

Where-ever we are, we’d always be proud to say

My alma mater? IIT Bombay.

As this beautiful journey ends and we go our separate ways, I'd like to say:

Do what your heart desires. Find the path to your true happiness. Even if it means taking the "road less travelled".

Rise, Shine and always be in your pursuit of happiness.

... and thus spake a Delhi Girl

“Such boisterous nature! I’m sure you must be from Delhi”

“Your first impression was of a haughty girl who is arrogant and always bossing around”

“You’re from Delhi? I’ve heard Delhi girls swear a lot!”

I was baffled at these reactions I got from people during my first few days  in Mumbai - a city, as I was told, that was very chilled out; where nobody really cared about who you were. I couldn’t possibly fathom how any Delhi Girl could be different from the ones from a similar metropolitan. But soon it dawned on me. Yes, there was good enough reason for this difference. For being classified as a 'Delhi-ite'.

I have been born and brought up there. I have spent the crucial 21 years of my life in Delhi. A city where being out of your home alone beyond 9pm is almost a sin; where chain-snatchers, eve-teasers and disgusting-oglers wouldn’t fear going on about with their corrupt actions and lewd statements even in bright daylight. The ‘heart’ of India where wearing a cut-sleeve tee and shorts in Delhi Metro was as inappropriate as butterflies to wicked 10 year olds, they’d pester them even when it’s totally uncalled-for.

How could the ones freely roaming along the marine lines at midnight learn to prefer a backpack with pepper-spray instead of a journalist/side bag in public places. How could the cool and easy going people coming from oh-so-not-Delhi states know why the girls with perpetual stone-faced looks are always ready to remove their chappals for a good thrashing at the slightest sign of mischief.

They say ‘better safe than sorry’. So that’s how we grow up; learning to protect ourselves, be bold and assertive about our own ‘rights to swear’.  Ah! So much for Delhi-bashing! But despite all its lack-of-security (or too much insecurity?) and power-hunger, it has its own appeal. It is the one state (okay, UT!) that will always be close to my heart.

For the uninitiated readers, Delhi’s cultural heritage is only too intriguing. The Red Fort, Purana Quila, Qutub Minar, Jantar Mantar,  Lodhi Gardens are just few indications of a regality that it has been. The ‘chaat’ and ‘chehal-pehal’ of Chandni Chowk, the classy aura of Connaught Place and South Delhi, our own Delhi-Metro, its food and foodies, its shops and shopaholics! Everything about the city is lovely.

Having spent almost 2 years here in Mumbai now, I can definitely say that it may be the fashion capital of India, but it can never match the sense of confidence and asservation of Delhi-ites. Its congested roads, tiring traffic and rickety Best Buses can only dream to match the wider roads, Low-floor CNG Buses  and Metro (okay! We take too much pride in it J)

If Mumbai-rains are much sought after, ask a Delhi-ite how he feels about ‘Garam Pakodas with Adrak waali Chai’ in ‘Dilli ki Sardi’. If Mumbai has the whole of Bollywood housed here, ask A Delhi-ite how proud (s)he is of the Republic Day parades and India Gate and the Commonwealth games being held at Delhi.


Every city is special in its own way. And Delhi, my hometown, has its own exceptional charm. Someone has said (and rightly so) that it can't be described wholly in one person's viewpoint. Every Delhi-ite has his/her own view of the place. His/her own way of getting enchanted by the small city that has so much to offer.  And it is my ‘Clean and Green Delhi’, my 'City of Flyovers' that I'll always miss no matter where I am.

This post is merely a result of reflecting over the scepticism towards Delhi and its people that I have seen in the two years I have been in Mumbai. In no way do I mean to demean Mumbai over Delhi. Because all said and done, “Agar Mumbai India ki Jaan hai, to Delhi Dil se kam nahi” :P

(Pardon the Pjs plz!)

जाने क्योँ

काम के बोझ तले, रोज़मर्रा की दौड़ में
वक्त यूँ ही निकल जाता है
पर अगर माँ से न हो दो पल बात, 
दोस्तोँ के साथ न हो कुछ देर मुलाकात,
तो दिन नहीं बन पाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कभी तो भरी भीड़ में खोये, डरती हूँ 
पर स्थिर कदम नहीं डगमगाता है
फिर कभी यूँ ही अकेले में
पुरानी यादोँ के बीच एक आँसू छलक जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

कठिन राह पर, भरी धूप में 
पाँव के छालों का दर्द भी महसूस न हो पाता है 
और कभी तो एक हल्का सा हवा का झोँका ही
अन्दर तक हिला कर छोड़ जाता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

मंदिर की सीड़ी पर वो छोटे बच्चे
हाथ फैलाए, प्रसाद से पेट भरते किसी तरह
"मैं क्योँ सोचूं यह सब, मेरा क्या जाता है"
पर रोज़ वो निश्छल आँखें,
हर वो मासूम चेहरा नज़र आता है
दिमाग ही सोचता सिर्फ तो क्या था गम
जाने क्योँ दिल बीच में आ जाता है

Uncertainty!

Uncertainty, it's such a pain,
Uncertainty drove me insane
indecision, anxiety, doubt, dilemma
I wished it were all on the wane
so why is it when life's so certain,
controlled, regular, plain, mundane
it's puzzlement, enigma, chance, fun,
a little uncertainty that I want again?

    

अभिलाषा

*my first ever Hindi poem. It sort of has two meanings - one being told by an individual, the other by humanity (personification).


रोज़ शाम चौराहे पर
लौटते हुए, नाजाने क्यों
होता एक अजीब भ्रम, अहसास है
रौशनी, रंगत, चकाचौंध के बीच
दिखता मुझे एक अँधेरा कोना
खींचता जो अपने पास है

मन करता है बस एक बार
कुछ पल के लिए
खो जाऊं उस अँधेरे में
बस कुछ पल को
पाऊं खुद को हँसता हुआ
लालच, घृणा, मुखौटों से दूर
भीतर के डूबते सवेरे में

पर डर है रह जाऊं ना भीड़ में पीछे
काबू खुद पर आ जाता है
फिर रोज़ नाजाने क्यों लगता मुझको
उस घने अनजान अँधेरे में
आज भी जी रहा अंश मेरा आधा है

अधूरे सपने, भिखरी उम्मीदें,
सहनशीलता, करुणा,
दो लव्ज़ स्नेह के
बटोरे हुए

डरा हुआ, सहमा सा वो
हाथ फैलाए वहाँ रहता है
दबी हुई कराहती आशाएं लिए
दर्द से नम आँखों से
नाजाने क्या कहानी कहता है

Just for fun!

~Poem #1 - Wrote it for a lecture on Machine Translation that I had to take a few weeks back. Just to add some life to the otherwise boring lecture (I did also try including a lot of PJs in there though... Ya! Madness alright! :D )


Syntax, Semantics
Discourse, Pragmatics
Alignment, Multi-Words, Punctuation

Sarcasm, Intention
Poetry, Convention
Phrase Sense, Word Sense Disambiguation

Language Divergence,
Its core essence,
Are all a nuisance for Machine Translation

No matter which you try unriddling
You would still be lagging

If you forget or underrate
The Power of POS Tagging!

A Little Bit of This and A Little Bit of That

A few silly poems

Some shabby sketches

Those random poor jokes

That no one catches

Unprepared speeches

No hesitations

Stealthily reading novels

In exam preparations

Goofy dances

hard to stop

Zumba and tumba

and weird hip-hop

Croaking out songs

Like crazy loons

Grave guitar banging

more noise than pleasant tunes

The game of basket ball

where a tooth was lost

Those races, disgraces

sprains that caused

Sitting alone in evenings,

With deep profound thoughts

Funny fictitious philosophies

Beyond the grasp of clots

Hobbies, recreations

Had all the fun

Been there done that

All said and done,

"Jack of all trades, 

master of none

is certainly better off 

than a master of one" 

Athirst for Warmth

In stifling air

as it gasped
for breath

it saw it was just

benumbed from pain

not yet dead

And so it lay there
once again

Emotions dried

the darkness filled the

Void inside

Its thirst got quenched

From the tears it cried

But its hunger

Lingered on

For the light that crept in

At the break of dawn

And healed its

Bleeding flesh and bruise

Its wounds were tender

Painful, sore

It yearned for the light

Often, more

This restless yearning
Too long a wait
More anguish of mind
Than of physical state

Thats when its

Anger and fury peaked

Encaged, enraged

Vengeance it wreaked

overpowering

the numbing fear

It broke away

From the dungeon drear

Beating, defeating

The guilt, disdain

The mighty dragon

Rose again

In wrath, it exhaled

the fiery fire

intense, ablaze

with passion, with desire

its eyes

penetrating, sharp and still

stirring fright

a mere look could kill

its muscles burnt with

venomous hate

wings flapped wildly

toughened by the long wait

with mad ambition

dominance, decision

unparalleled strength

and fierce precision

a strong will

and stronger might

it readied itself for

The Last Fight

-         

Solace in Solitude

Impermanent impressions

Of bare feet on wet soggy sands

Silhouette fading

As the horizon hues to a dull orange

Lightest of winds

Kindling currents through the soul

These long evening walks

Spellbind with a strong sentience

The essence of being Me

Unsounded Wails

Wandering, wondering

Skeptical, straying

Always betraying

Its own thoughts

Its treasured desires

Buried inside

Alone in the corner

It struggled; it cried

The mighty dragon

Could not confide

Its dreams; its hopes

Bounded tight

By mightier ropes

Ignorant of the

Power each one owned

It sat there watching

While the others honed

Grieving, heaving

It sometimes did try

To breakaway

But left midway

It was too shy

Haunted by the dreary dark

Held captive by its

unsoundable screams

And so a withered

Dragon lies among

Frayed ropes and bruised dreams

Waiting in pain till it rots by bit

Surrenders and dies young

You're still here

Standing amid a cool breeze

with sun descending

soft and slow

reminded of sweet memories

not wanting to let go

some beautiful feelings, moments

buried deep within

never again to show

and even when there's

a lot to look forward to

no reason really to whine

a gentle tear dares to fall off

I sense the presence of

a spirit around

inexplicable, divine

- dedicated to Mumma (my grandmother)