All that was.

It's only Tuesday. The week has just begun. Yet I find it easy enough to say- I've had a rough week.

I don't want to talk about it. Not here, at least.

My issues are completely irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, right?

The Commonwealth Games are sprinting towards disaster. Snakes are being found in hotel rooms. Stray dogs sleep on the king-sized beds within the Village, politicians sleep on king-sized beds in the comfort of their mansions.

Verdict on the Babri Masjid title suit is to be delivered by the Allahabad High Court on September 30th. Pathetic how a case with such easily identifiable culprits has languished in lack-luster courts for almost eighteen years.

Aaah, life.

P.S. I finished a 4.5 kilometer marathon on Sunday.:)

P.P.S. Dealing with 'writer-rejection/inadequacy/what-made-me-think-I-could-write-so-well-anyway/why haven't I started studying yet/why don't I have a job yet' syndrome.

Yeah, not the best syndrome out there. :-/

I Spy :The Elevator Edition

How many times have I traveled by an elevator? Uh, somewhere in the range of a million? I currently reside on the 12th floor, so there's that, then college and malls and airports, the list is long, and honestly, dull.  But that does not stop me, (does anything? :P) from making a few observations on that, on average, 35 second lift ride up or down.

 You might not even know the name of the person standing ten inches from you, (quite the friendly neighbor, I am) but still: You know what he's reading;  his cologne(or its lack thereof) ;  his taste in music coz of course his iPod's volume is turned up high enough that your eardrums are revolting : his cell-phone's ringtone and why will it be anything but 'Tera tera tera suroooooor" and you will surely guess that he's had aloo parathas with spicy chutney for lunch. Whoever first called India the land of spices said it from 'stuck with an Indian in a closed space' experience! 

All at once, it's weird yet completely normal. Here we are, two complete strangers stuck in a closed box for less than a minute and yet we part knowing more random details about each other than many in our friend circle. To think, this is when we haven't even exchanged a single word. 

Move to "Hello" time. The inevitable(not always, ironically!) conversation starter.
The sharp divide between Introverts and Extroverts is a lie. So is the divide between 'tomayto' and 'tomahto', the Montagues and the Capulets, the bibliophiles and the comic book readers. All the people in the world can broadly be divided into two kinds of people- People who chit-chat in an elevator,  and those who don't.

You know the drill if you're in the latter group.  Aimlessly play around with your cell-phone, check your hair if there are mirrors around etc etc. Aaah, the silence does carry the acute weight of discomfort and just waiting to get the hell out! Neutered of even basic conversational skills that I am, the elevator ride just makes me feel the sheer inadequacy of these silly social skills. And, if you fall squarely in group 1, then you absolutely have to make eye contact, fake- smile and nod a silent hello, and wait for Aunty to ask, "How is college?" or "Where is Mumma these days?" before you ask, "Aunty, I haven't seen Pappu in the longest time!" or "Thanks for the lasagna you sent over, it was yummy!"

And oh, how can I even forget the drone of Kenny G elevator music .3 times a day, aaaaaaaargh, I've had enough!

Is it time to get all "I'm going to be a health freak" and take the stairs?

Yeah, we'll see how that goes. :P

P.S. In India, an elevator is called a lift. In case you're not from the country and are wondering why people are waiting for a car to give you a ride while waiting in the line for the elevator. :P

A Product of GM Technology

2 X chromosomes in my brilliantly unique double-helix DNA structure, have not Ms. Nitisha Pande made.
After countless hours of research and diligent deliberation(uh, two and a half minutes human time), a conclusion has been reached.
I can now say, with much pride, that like the infamously banned BT Brinjal and the government-sanctioned BT cotton, I am a product of the technology, pedants like to call Genetic Modification.

Wikipedia goes on to explain what this is- 'Genetic engineering, also called genetic modification, is the human manipulation of an organism's genetic material in a way that does not occur under natural conditions.' It goes on to use words such as recombinant DNA and mutagenesis, but blah blah blah, I don't get any of that. (Haha, no one understands these words, really. Einstein, the only person who could, died long ago.)


I use all this scientific jargon I know not much, if anything, about for a reason. As I stayed up last night, reading Red Dragon, a thought struck me, as suddenly as it does every time. 


What has made me the person I am? What makes people who they are? Their experiences as a member of a family, as a member of society, as a student, a spouse? What events mesh into our psyche in such a way that they leave a definite and indelible impact on our minds, and percolate into every action.


For example. 
I hate cockroaches. Why? No clue. 
Did I have some crazy childhood experience with a cockroach? No. So that's not it.
Would I have hated them if I had lived in a not-so-plush apartment in Mumbai? Maybe not. 
Is it because I am a girl. And that in typical girl-fashion I hate creepy-crawlies of all kinds? I hope not.


So, where do our intrinsic values make way for the external environment's effects to kick in?
I'd like to know the answer to this.
So I can get some leeway in terms of getting answers. Answers I've been searching for all year.
(Of course, another answer I'm looking for is what role cockroaches play in the eco-system in the first place! :P)


Forever is composed of nows, someone had once said. Sylvia Plath or Emily Dickinson had said that, I'm not sure. I remember I'd read it some 4 years ago, and I thought it was one of the most poetic sentences ever. I still do. :)
The question is. 
What makes up my now? In this moment, who am I, and what has made me this person.


Yeah, us GEOs(Genetically Modified Organisms) live a life of utter confusion and near insanity. 
And let me tell you, looking for these answers in people, experiences and the internet, of course, is a pretty cool experience in itself. :)

Dabangg kills, Punjabi pop revives.

"I'm trying to find myself as a person, sometimes that's not easy to do. Millions of people live their entire lives without finding themselves. But it is something I must do,"Marilyn Monroe had once said.
I nod my head in firm assent.
BUT, I've been so unbelievably busy of late!
Economics Project, Effective Communication Project, writing the NMIMS Entrepreneurship blog, this, that and the other.


Irrelevant, of course. I should pay more attention to this little corner I proudly call mine. Apologies. :)


Of course, all this added co-curricular and academic pressure, has brought out the veritable monster in me.
Finicky, hyperventilating at the slightest delay, at the smallest inconsistency with the project at hand.
(I screamed at three team members today, UNAPOLOGETICALLY please note. :P)


Maybe it's the Dabangg effect. 
Yes, that is what I like to call it.

I was so disillusioned with 'Bollywood", film critics (IT GOT 4 STARS ON FIVE. Whaaaaaaat?), débutante directors and of course, action directors, script writers and the whole jing-bang, crass toilet humor, the surname Pande, that the burst of adrenaline(crazy frustration?) drove me to work on a project for 6 straight hours. So much so, that my eyes were blood red, my bottom was glued to the chair, my concerned father actually put down the laptop screen and my mother cooked my favourite-pasta in alfredo sauce only to get me alive and kicking again. :P




The only thing that kept me entertained. A certain steroid-muscled Mr. Salman Khan dancing to, 
"Jo sab ko paar lagawe re hai wohi dabangg
Daar ko kaate re, cheer dhare sanatte re
Jab veer bhare khunkhaare
Udd udd dabangg dabangg dabangg dabangg" 


That killed me.


Okay, back to being busy.

Which translates into dancing madly and wildly like a roadside drunkard to cheap band music that's playing ALL the time coz a certain Hindu elephant god festival is in progress. :D (Dancing to "Bolo tarararara" right now. Aaaah, Punjabi pop is such a mood lifter!)


India, I tell you. I love it. :)

Thoughtcrime

I feel like going away to a brand new city, maybe a whole new country and meeting a brand new set of people.Family and my 2 best friends run away with me, of course.


I feel like doing something productive and useful and important. I'm tired of lazing around.


I like 'elaichi tea' and green tea with lemon, more than coffee now.


I feel like finishing Anna Karenina. 


I feel like trashing noisy polythene packets for paper bags.


I feel like screaming at 95% of the people I see for being so mechanical and always looking for a leader to give directions.


I wish the BBA programme had as much practical interface with industry as I wished.


I wish I knew more than 8 girls who aren't superficial bimbos and more than 10 guys who aren't slackers.


Oops, the above make me sound like a nerd. A pedant. A hippie. A snob. A pretentious buffoon. Uncool, maybe.

In the society I'm in, saying all this out loud is like a crime.You say anything like this and you are immediately categorized into one of the above slots.
 No one really wants to 'think', no one really wants to 'change'. They are comfortable in the predictable and the familiar. They are comfortable living the stereotype.

Oh, Thought Police, I surrender. 
Punish me for thinking. Really. Coz I would much rather think all this aloud than not think at all.


 "Thoughtcrime does not entail death: thoughtcrime is death."
-Winston Smith in 1984, by George Orwell

Murphy's Laws for poor little management students.

1. If the timetable says college starts at 10 and the first lecture is Politics, then it REALLY starts at 11.30 or never starts at all.  'Absent minded professor' is not another empty obsolete stereotype,mind you.
On the other hand, if the first lecture is Maths, class starts at 9.45 and yes, you're late if you stroll in at ten and won't be given attendance.

2. No class ever starts on time unless you are running late and really need the delay to make it to the classroom.

3.The floor in between the 3rd and the 4th floor, the mysterious P floor, is the scary haunted area that featured prominently in your nightmares. Scientists are working day and night trying to figure out why it exists. CERN came into existence to figure out the mystery behind the floor named P.

4. You will inevitably be squished and squashed in the lift, after waiting for half an hour in the company of wet socks and stinking armpits. But the college has it all figured out. They play Kenny G in the lift to relax you once you get in, and are struggling to breathe.

5. The Georgia tea on the 5th and 7th floor is the best thing in the world.

6. If you want to go bankrupt in a week, eat only and only from the college's very own canteen cutely named Aditi. Items start at Rs.20 and go upto Rs.70. Do the smart thing and make the rich dumb-asses who carry their Apple Mac laptops in the rain everyday to pay.


7.It is possible to pass your midterms by studying for exactly half a minute.
(Says the girl who studied Maths for 2 whole hours the day before, and then wrote 48*3=72 in the paper.)


8. Know the meaning of the word 'twain' to score well in your Effective Communication exam.


9.Don't get me started on the teachers.


10. Next time you hear they finally have a practical approach to studies in India, and the college provides a lot of industry exposure to students etc... Don't believe it. India is rote-learners paradise. That's what makes India, India after all.


"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong".


All hail Murphy.

A Letter to My Future Self

Dear Nitisha,

Today is Friday, 27th August 2010.

It's a pretty normal day, really. It's barely even started. College starts at 1.15 p.m. today, so I slept late last night and woke up late too. Yes, that's a big deal right now coz I barely get to stay snuggled in till 9.30!
The paper today says some interesting things.
( I read Times of India right now, but please, "future me", I hope you've migrated to Hindustan Times. It's for the greater good.)

Yeah, it says that Virender Sehwag's ODI mojo is back. All I kept thinking was that Virender Sehwag would probably not even understand the headline, if he were reading it.
Also, Aashayein released today. (Yeah, it releases today and even I don't have a clue about the star-cast so don't worry, it's no onset of Alzheimer if you don't recollect it. Oh wait, my one-time crush John Abraham is in it, but he is SO passe` now!)

Enough small talk.
I have only 3 super-important questions to ask you.

-Is U2 still together? And Sigur Ros? Have you finally seen them in concert?
-Did the world actually end in 2012 and are you the only one left alive, like Will Smith in I am Legend?
-Do you still blog?

(Five questions, I know. Don't catch me on a technicality now.)

And I have one semi-important question to ask you.
Do you still write?
I don't know how many years later you'll actually read this, but sitting here, right now, I know I enjoy writing. About anything.
 I'm midway through an Economics project for my midterms, and I actually had fun analyzing and writing down the findings from histograms and pie-charts.
You're cringing and saying, "I was such a nerd", right?

But writing has always been different.
Ever since you were ten and dreamed of sitting in that plush office, with a view of the skyline, you enjoyed reading literature, learning new words and using them, didn't you?
Writing was always a constant. Putting down thoughts on paper, in a somewhat coherent manner, made you feel alive. Proactive. Productive. It made life easy, it made it interesting. Your writing was always there.
That's why I'd like to know whether you write anymore. Or have you just turned into one of those bitchy career women?

I wonder what you're upto right now. At work? Unemployed? On vacation in the Caribbean?

Let's see. Is there anything I'd like to tell you right now?

Yeah, I have one piece of advice to give you. Keep thinking big. You never thought you'd have the courage to start a blog. You never thought it would cross the 10 follower mark. I'm three months into the blogosphere, and I have 28 followers. You never thought you would find Night by Elie Wiesel. You found the only tired, bruised copy in a tiny corner of Landmark. You never thought you would get 95 in your XIIth Accounts Board exams. You did.
Work hard and act on your passion. Right now, writing is mine. It feels absolutely great, and if you can do it for the rest of your life, don't let anything stop you.
Don't say 'Easy for you to say, I have a crippling work schedule', now. No excuses shall be entertained.

By the way, have you started believing in God?
And do people still write "LOL"?

So Nitisha, are you doing something important with your life yet?
At 5'2", what are your views?

Love,
Me.

P.S. Did Sana finally grow her hair? :)

Respect

"I simply state that I'm a product of a versatile mind in a restless generation — with every reason to throw my mind and pen in with the radicals. Even if, deep in my heart, I thought we were all blind atoms in a world as limited as a stroke of a pendulum, I and my sort would struggle against tradition; try, at least, to displace old cants with new ones. I've thought I was right about life at various times, but faith is difficult."
- F. Scott Fitzgerald


I like the people I meet in general. 
Most in my friend circle are fun-loving with a thin streak of sarcasm, a passion for breaking stereotypes and a flair for drama. 
That's basically what you will figure out within ten minutes of speaking to me too.


And then I think.
There are only SO many people you can genuinely 'like'.
There are people you only claim to like to keep up appearances, and people you like only for the first twenty minutes of conversation.
I like a lot of people, genuinely or otherwise.


It's been a long time I met a person I can not just like, but respect. 
For their scope of thought or abundant talent.


Does this make me a sound like a pretentious snob? Sure.
But I'm just being honest.
I feel like meeting Murakami. Or Whitman. Or someone who can just blow me away.
Anything to get respite from the drudgery and routine of timetables and economics.


Without feelings of respect, what is there to distinguish men from beasts?
Confucius

Surviving superstition and independent India.

Greetings, all!

If you're reading this, you survived and lived to tell the tell of the "ominous" Friday the 13th!

A day when, if you are even mildly superstitious or believe in statistics backing up these claims, you could have...

-Been hospitalized for a severe case of Paraskavedekatriaphobia- a morbid irrational fear of Friday the 13th.

-Been laid up in bed(or in a morgue,for that matter) coz of a transport accident.

-Had to change your wedding/engagement/big promotion at work/let's leave for my first holiday in 5 years date.

You're alive, and as I write this, I check my pulse rate and I pinch myself. I can't believe it! I actually beat the odds! I'm alive too. Yaaay us! :P

You know who else celebrated being alive and kickin' and so-very-independent this weekend? 

India!!!

Why don't we just answer a few questions here..

Do we know (atleast the opening lines) of Nehru's "Tryst With Destiny" speech? 

Or sing the national anthem right before the movie plays at the nearest multiplex? 

Or sing(okay, lip-sync) the national song in a certain school function? 

Or wear white, or even tri-coloured clothing for just that one day to depict your undying love and devotion towards our motherland?

It's irrelevant what your answers are to these questions. It is definitely not required of you to wear your patriotism, superficial as it may be, on your sleeve.

We belong to a country where 42% of the citizens are below the poverty line, an overwhelming and super-crowded population of 1.1 billion (AND INCREASING EVERY SECOND), 43% of the kids born are underweight and have little access to education or food.

"India is not a powerful country that its wishes are respected by other countries. India is considered as a soft and weak country even if it is progressing economically," the Delhi High Court said in July.

The bureaucracy reeks of corruption and red-tapism, the politicians are money-hungry, laidback and lacklustre when it come to actually delivering on their promises.

Famines. Disease epidemics. Bad sanitation. Secessionists.

You name it, our country has it.

These are pertinent facts, that cannot and should not be ignored.

As my best friend said to me that day, if Gandhiji knew that this was what he fought for so ardently, he wouldn't have done it at all.

This is not to take away from the fact that India HAS changed, and is changing.

I'm not just talking about the flyovers, the multi-storeyed buildings,satellite launches, malls, planes, the thriving private sector, the 2 Indians in the top 5 of the Forbes' annual list of billionaires in the world, the increasing foreign investments, the high-end cars and designer brands, the fact that 36% of NASA employees are Indians or that 38% of the doctors in America are Indians or that 220 of the Fortune 500 companies outsource their work to India.

I'm talking about certain other facts. 

The fact that so many people in rural India are switching to mobile handsets and using ATM facilities.

Or the fact that many venture capitalists believe that the first Computing/Internet experience for rural Indians  (or broadly, most Indians) would be through mobiles and are investing heavily in our country. Railway ticketing, Matrimonials, Astrology, Education, Religious services, Games, Maps,  on-demand movies, etc would be attractive to rural users and in particular to children and house-hold women.

The rising number of grassroot innovators. Take for example cultivating square watermelons for optimal utilization of storage space, almost free refrigeration using earthen-wear pots, the invention of the water-cycle or great successes like community based banks.

These are the stories that make you smile, get up and think, okay, maybe being cynical about our country's independence isn't all that great.

Take an unbiased neutral view of our country. 

Yes, we have more than our fair share of problems; no one's denying that. Just don't take pride in them and show off how absolutely downtrodden and backward our country is. That would not only make you inaccurate and completely one-sided, it would make you seem downright ignorant of ground reality. 

Because things are changing. Slowly, i admit, but surely.

As for myself, I enjoy living in a country so very diverse and with so many problems.

It gives me that much more to work towards.

"This is no time for petty and destructive criticism, no time for ill-will or blaming others. We have to build the noble mansion of free India where all her children may dwell."

-last lines from the Tryst With Destiny Speech by Jawaharlal Nehru.

10 things a 17 year old girl should know/be able to do.

I'm on Chapter 3 of Norwegian Wood, and there's this great quote here. 

"Only the dead stay seventeen forever', Toru Watanabe says.

And that got me thinking about...Things I should know how to do, theoretically.

1. Know how to cook. I'm not talking your basic omelettes and Maggi, but the whole deal. Atleast 8 varieties of dal AND rice, how to make chapatis (without screaming at the top of your lungs that a roti-maker now exists), and an assortment of side dishes ranging from potatoes to bitter gourd. 

If I don't know how to cook, I am automatically

-A spoilt brat

-Ineligible for marriage

-Irresponsible, and possibly rebellious.

Explanation-I am an Indian. :P

How do I measure up? I'm petrified of turning the gas knob. :(

2. Shake hands firmly.

Girls often have that really limp handshake, probably coz of their incurable neurosis or shyness. (Look left.)

 Then there's that stalker handshake, where they take your hand and don't let go for an inordinately long time.

It's simple, really. Stick out your hand and imagine yourself grabbing a Coke bottle. One-Mississippi-Two-Mississipi. Done.

3. Know the valency and electronic configuration of Beryllium. 

It may just help you someday. :P

4. Read a self-help book or a women's magazine without thinking you need to change one single thing about yourself.

5. Value chivalry when you are at the receiving end of it.

Women are independent and chivalry isn't dead, it just isn't required as much anymore. BUT..

As an answer to the domestic slavery and abuse of bygone eras, women now have this I-aint-need-no-help-from-a-man attitude. So when the poor gentleman actually does pull out a chair for you, you start ranting a feminist speech. 

Stop it. 

There aren't that many gentlemen left in the world anyway.

6. Know that the Twilight series is NOT, and I repeat, NOT literature.

AND

7. Having a crush on a guy who plays a white-faced vampire with crazy hair(read Robert Pattinson) does NOT make you cool or a person with anything resembling good taste.

8. Know how to drive.

It's time to break the above stereotype.The dark ages are upon us. Auto fares have increased. BEST buses are brimming with dirty sweaty armpits.

And Mumbai traffic is well,... It renders me speechless.

I'm going to start learning early next year. Maybe I'll just practice until then!

9. Know directions. 

You should be able to tell a stranger the precise directions to reach Point B from Point A, without messing up right from left, 'go straight' from 'take a left at the crossing, then another left and another left and yet another left'.

10. Know how to detect when people are talking nonsense, no matter how fluent or intelligent it all sounds at face value. Next time someone tells you they have a "ground breaking" proposal for you, or says something like "Our dynamic flow capacity matrix has unprecedented downtime resistance protocols"... 

Please take the time out to smell the bullshit.

Green tea break now.

Later. :)