One side effect of journalism is that it can turn you into a skeptical, cynical zombie. Not that I needed journalism for that. It also turns you into an analytical creep. Not that I needed journalism for that either. I am now beginning to suspect that the illustrious University of Mumbai accepted me for this course, despite my disastrous run at the nightmare I call bachelor’s degree, based solely on these qualities.
After 26/11 we had a heated debate on the central’s policy, war, terrorism, democracy, should we vote, chinese food, the director of this institute has lost his mind, this journalism course is a debacle and many other subjects. My professor was of course acting as the devil’s advocate. He is a funny character. His lectures belonged to the paisa vasool category.
Anyway, it was quite entertaining to say the least. In the end it was “decided” that democracy and voting is necessary for the very survival of the spirit of India, if there is such a thing.
And I really feel that voting is essential. Not just for the democracy, and the power of one vote, and blah blah but for personal gloating as well. Because later when the government shits all over the place (and it does), I have a guilt free conscious to publicly denounce my faith in democracy only to stand in line to vote again the next time. It’s quite fun actually. No one can accuse me of not casting my vote and then complaining. To feel betrayed one must has to put faith.
Besides, this time I had to vote. It seems the ECI has changed the norm of ink marking the fingers. Instead of the index finger now the authorities mark the middle finger. Now I can give “the finger” to everybody all day long in the guise of showing that I voted. Innit great?
I read this amazing piece of news in the Times of India yesterday. Apparently BJP has lost it on account of the elections. But there’s nothing new in that. Every political party cultivates ridiculous antics for four years but the crescendo is at the time of the elections. Oppsising the statue of Charlie Chaplin on the basis of religion is one of them. Marketing gurus the world over should learn from these political parties on how to generate and capture niche markets.
While we are on the topic, has anyone heard the new anthem of Congress based on Jai Ho? It gives me the heebie-jeebies.
Sometime last month The Economics Times launched a forum, kind of contest called The Power of Ideas, for all those interested in breaking out of the routine jobs and making it big on their own. I am a little late in writing about it as the deadline ends today at 6 PM but it is nonetheless an interesting read.
“The Power of Ideas is an initiative by The Economic Times to encourage anyone and everyone with an idea to realize his entrepreneurial dream. Ideas will be polished and nurtured with personalized guidance from senior mentors before being submitted to the largest group of investors for funding.” That’s what it says.
Here’s the link to their blog. http://etpowerofideas.blogspot.com
Despite the media blaring day in day out about India being an IT superpower, there are certain sections in society that are completely oblivious to even the simplest of technological facts . And I am not talking about underprivileged, economically backward, rural areas.
Take my dad for example. He is unable to operate anything complicated than a pocket calculator, including his cell phone. His knowledge in his field of chemistry and the machinery is unchallenged but when it comes to his computer, everything seems to go wrong. But I am not talking about him as well.
It seems the entire education system of India, especially that of Mumbai University, thinks that IT is limited to .NET, Java, SQL Server and Oracle. No other languages, scripts or databases are worth studying. No talks about networks and security either. When I interview freshers, or even experienced people in some cases, I don’t want or expect them to write huge programs. I just test their awareness of technology that exists outide the campus. I hardly find anyone who has heard of PHP or Python. Many write in their resume that they know VBScript and JavaScript. I asked a few of them “what are scripting languages?”. They don’t know!! You have written it in your freaking resume damn it. But it’s not their fault altogether. I wasn’t very different anyway. Only difference that I had actually heard about something called PHP.
The curriculum never teaches students what they are learning and why they are learning it. They are learning because….well, it’s there. “Learning” is an overstatement here by the way. I have a friend who completed his diploma in computer engineering, then his graduation in IT and is now doing his Masters in computers. This guy does not have a PC. There are text books available, everything in exams is asked from those books, including programs, then why bother wasting money on a useless contraption?
Before actually heading for the Java would it hurt the professors to point out the difference between Java and JavaScript? What is a programming language, what is a scripting language? These things are learnt mostly later in professional life, as part of on-job training.
I clearly remember one of my many oral examinations. The professor asked me what kind of database I used in my project. I answered SQL. She questioned me SQL or MS SQL Server. What’s the difference between those two? I was picking up my teeth off the floor in no time. I sometimes ask this same question to some candidates and the result is pretty much the same.
Let’s take a look at different group of people now. My current professor keeps telling us in every other lecture that as journalism students we should be aware of everything under the Sun. In this same class there are people who have never heard of Wikipedia. They don’t know who Steve Jobs is and they take down notes on how to open a new document in Word. This may sound exaggerated but it’s the truth. Talk about truth being stranger than the fiction. Mind you, these are all post graduate students. Some have Master’s degree. They may not come from technical background but when I heard they don’t know Wikipedia, it brought tears to my eyes. I don’t cry. Once during Holi, a kid threw a balloon on a part of my anatomy; a part which we males consider as the ultimate creation of nature, a part which we would try to protect even in the event of a nuclear holocaust. And I didn’t shed a tear. I whimpered in pain of course, but no tears. Yet that news made my eyes water. Ignorance is bliss at the expense of the others’ suffering.
I have been away for too long. Well, it’s my blog. I’ll stay away for as long as I like. Just didn’t feel like writing anything untill now.
Anyway, this weekend I was dragged to a small pilgrimage kinda thing/family picnic. Now, I stay clear of such events with all my might and wit. This time though I was caught off guard. I was promised that my cousin would tag along as well. The place is called Mahuva and it’s supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful. So I told myself what the heck…let’s do it. I am not a least bit religious but I was in a desperate need of a break.
We were supposed to leave on Saturday around 12 noon for Gujarat. With 3 days of holidays, the possibility of getting 2 cars was very slim. Mumbai residents jump at first chance to get out of this town. And once they get out, they can’t wait to come back. My uncle finally somehow managed to book 2 cars on Friday.
My Saturday began slow. Everyone was up by 7 or 8 in the morning. I got up at 10. Everyone was packed at least a day before. I started looking for a bag at 11. But I was ready by 12. We were about to embark and waiting for the cars to arrive and my uncle called. My cousin who was getting back from Delhi was going to be late.
Finally, we took off at 4 in the evening. Traffic was horrendous. Just as were settled in cars about 15 minutes later, my sister announced that she forgot her bag. To make a long story short, it was around 5.15 when we were actually on the road.
After about 2 hours later, after Virar, we stopped for a break. There I noticed something was missing in the other car. It was my cousin. He was too tired from his journey, and everybody conveniently forgot to inform me that he wasn’t coming with us. I was tricked. I felt violated. But I decided to give Mahuva another chance. The desperate need of vacation and scenic beauty was overpowering.
Rest of the journey was mostly uneventful except when one of the tires got busted. The other car was miles ahead. The diver and I were trying to change the tire and it turned out that the jack was faulty too. I was dividing my time helping him with the jack, using my cell phone flash to shed some light on this dark situation and cursing at every passing vehicle.
After about 45 minutes we were back on the road. The other car was waiting for us few miles ahead. There another hour was spent, working on the spare tire, patching it. I think it was an hour. I had lost the track on time. Mahuva was 30 km off the main highway. We reached there at 12.30 I guess. We were supposed to reach there at 6 in the evening.
One interesting fact about the drivers. They liked honking. They honked at a line of trucks, they honked at cars in the side lane. And I can swear one on ‘em honked at a speadbreaker.
Anyway, it was 1 in the morning before we went to bed. I had made clear to everyone that I was treating this like a vacation. No temple for me. No puja, no nothing. Next day everyone got up at 6 and went to temple. I woke up at 9.30 and then left the room at 10 hoping to catch some of that awesome weather and scenic beauty. I was greeted by a scorching sun. The river next to the Mahuva is very nice, so I had heard. When you take a left turn from Bandra towards Mahin causeway, there is a big gutter or nala on the left side. That is larger than the river I saw. But I hadn’t lost my hope. I went for a stroll. Mahuva isn’t very big. The size is hardly more than my neighbour hood. The tallest residential building was the Dharamshala we were staying at. My stroll of the village over in 15 minutes.
But I refused to give up. I went for a walk outside the village. I walked for about 5 kms. All I saw was a couple of farms and a lots of live stock. I started losing hope.
It was 12 in the noon and nobody was back. I was tired of listening to same songs over and over again. I packed my bag. Locked the room. Went to the reception. Dropped the keys. Called my mom. Told her I was leaving. She said ok, where are you going. I said back to Mumbai. She said huh?. I said Mumbai. She said what????????. Then I think I rambled a bit about being tricked into coming. I hung up. Asked the driver to drop mt at Navsari railway station. In short, I ran away. Muhahahahahaha.
Then all the fun started. We had no idea where station was. So started asking locals. They insisted on answering in Gujarati regardless of which language you the questions in. A note: people around Mahuva don’t understand the metric system. If they say something is 2 kms away, multiply it by at least 3 to get the idea of the distance. One train was at 2.30 and I wanted to catch that. I calculated – it is 1 pm. I have an hour and a half. The distance is 30 kms. Plenty of time. I could not have been more wrong. The 30 kms drive turned out to be around 70 kms. We ran out of diesel on the highway. While the driver was running with a can to get some fuel, I was busy asking for a ride back to Mumbai. I always to do that. Not surprisingly, no one paid any attention to me.
So, it was 2.45 when I finally reached Navsari station. The train was long gone and the next was at 4.30. I got the ticket for the general compartment. And it struck me, I don’t have my spare keys of my house. I called up my friend. He told me I could stay at his place. Phew!!
I had around another hour and a half to burn. I had a little cough so I started looking for a medical store. I must was walked around 3 more kms looking for one. I found three. All of them closed. Goddamn it. What’s wrong with these people?
The train came at around 4.40, somehow I managed to get in and found place to sit!! Of course, not immediately but half an hour later. Thank you John Grisham for giving me company. I got off at Andheri. My friend was at station to pick me up.
Mahuva on any other day would have been fine. The trickery got me. And probably the wrong season. Anyhow, I managed to salvage at least some of my weekend. And it was more than enough for me.
I came home on Monday around midnight when my family arrived. I was half expecting them to throw me out. Nothing happened. It’s been two days. Everything seems cool. And it scares me.
