REDISCOVERY........

What can be more gratifying to the human sense of curiosity than a library. All those books overflowing with knowledge...just waiting to be opened. For a person whose social life underwent drastical changes this semester, I found solace in the B.I.T Mesra library!
Things got better when a friend fixed a date with me in the library. We did random searching on the comp with surprising results. There were entire sections dedicated to Yoga, cookery and even sex! we even bumped into plays by Girish Karnad and travelogues from the Himalayas. It was a different way of 'hanging out' and it was awesome!
On other days, when i am in a graver mood, I browse through the Architectural section. They have some very rare and good book there which students hardly access. Add to this free newspapers and journals and magazines from all over the world.
Other random observations-
1. there are still a lot of people who do actually sit down there and study.....real study. Very inspiring!
2. if we ever happen to strike up a conversation with a person the strict librarian in the maroon pathan suit walks up to us and says the same line( every single time!) " agar baat karni hai to canteen mein jaa ke karo." Is this not a flaw in the system?? shouldn't a place in the library be dedicated to human-to-human knowledge exchange? Should a conversation be a big sin even if it isin't disturbing other readers?

Botton life is.....the library is currently my favourite haunt........it is a free bookstore........and a really strong support system..........
MUAH!

A Thousand Splendid Suns………

A good story is something that, when read, makes you feel you are laying on someone’s lap and the web of words is flowing into your ears. It is an effortless process. But the beauty of it is that when it ends you feel mesmerized, deeply moved and in some ways transformed. To Kill a Mocking Bird did it. And now this…….
Khaled Hosseeini’s book takes you on a journey deep into Afghanistan. Two women experience momentous changes in their lives as the world around them trembles and collapses. It shows the things a mother would do to protect her children. She will face disgrace, go hungry, accept violence and even kill.
The book is filled with moments that talk volumes about this love. Leaving her daughter Aziza in an orphanage where she could be fed and clothed, Laila holds her hand and says, “Look at me, Aziza. I‘ll come and see you. I’m your mother. If it kills me, I’ll come and see you.”
It is a story of women wronged by men. It is so full of succinct sentences that I had to stop and appreciate every now and then. Says Nana, “Like a compass needle that points north, a man’s accusing finger always finds a woman. Always.” She even goes on to say, “a man’s heart is a wretched thing. It isn’t like a mother’s womb. It won’t bleed and it won’t stretch to make room for you.”
But don’t be misled into believing that all men are bad. There is Babi who believes in educating his daughter and is patient and loving towards his wife. There is Tariq who comes back to Afghanistan, when every one was leaving it, to rescue his childhood sweetheart. It is endearing how he says, “I’ll follow you to the end of the world, Laila.”
The story ends on a positive note. Even after the ravages caused by warring tribes and the worst possible things done by Taliban, hope floats. People gather bricks and rebuild the once great nation. Flowers sprout in the plants in old rocket shells. Rocket flowers.
The author leaves us with few lines from a ghazal by Hafez……….

Joseph shall return to Canaan, grieve not,
Hovels shall turn to rose gardens, grieve now.
If a flood should arrive, to drown all that’s alive,
Noah is your guide in the typhoon’s eye, grieve not.

After a lot of searching and digging.....from various sources.....here are the complete lyrics of Beru Pako......a Kumaoni folk song.....

Beru Pako.........

beru pako bara maasa...ho narain,

kaphal paako chita,mere chaila....(2)

Runi bhuni din aayo...ho narain,

puja mere maita,mere chila....(2)

Tero khuto kan buro...ho narain,

mero khuto pera,mere chail......(2)

Almara kee nanada devi...ho narain

anar jhakari ko sai ma...mere chaila

teri meri maya dekhi

log khani bhaima....mere chaila!....(2)

Translation---

Bero ripens all around the year.........o Narayan

Kaphal ripens only during chait....my beloved

Hot days are here...O Narayan

take me to my mother's home.....my beloved

If a thorn pierces your foot...O Narayan

I feel the pain.....my beloved

At Almora's Nanda devi,

In the shade of a pomegranade tree,

Seeing our love

people get decieved.......my deloved

Roots.....

Roots by Alex Haley traces back family history down seven generations to...Kunta Kinte....who called the guitar Ho and the river Gamby Bologna.....who grew up in a village in Africa and when he was out one day to cut wood, was captured by white men and forced into slavery.....

An interesting story that made me think about all the stories passed down generations by word of mouth. here are two of my favourites-

Durga Dutt Joshi was a Jhijharian(Jhijar is a famous muhalla near Almora known for joshis who when speak....speak so bitter.....that even the food in ur stomach gets burnt!). His father, the diwaan of Satna ensured that he had a good education. Though DDJ started off as a school teacher, he was soon promoted to the post of 'inspector of schools'. He travelled from one town to another on his white horse Chetak. Legend has it that he was very strict about the level of education imparted. So strict that after a tour his bag contained ears...yes....EARS and chutiaas(a brahmin boy's trademark bunch of hair) of truant schoolboys!!!

After retirement, being the eldest he enforced strict rules in his house as well. His younger brothers, fond of alcohol, never dared to uncork a bottle at home. They hired rickshaws and roamed around town drinking all evening, as far away from home as possible.

His grand children, taught by him, suffered the worst. On getting 95/100 in maths they were asked...in his thunderous voice......" bakee 5 number kahaan gayee??" He did not hesitate in bringing down his whip(yes he has a whip too!!) on their backs if they deviated an inch from studies.

I was shown these whip marks by my father (who, may i mention, has a flare for fiction), one of DD Joshi's grandsons, before exams and i was prompt to hit the books!

Badri Dutt Pande was very young when he lost both his parents. His elder brother supported his education and he became a professor at Chakrata, Garhwaal. But his youth coincided with Gandhi's call for freedom and he was quick to respond. Soon he became a prominent freedom fighter from Kuamon. He led the Coolie Begar Andolan and came to be known as Kurmanchal Kesari.

He was sent to jail often and his family was left to fend for themselves. On one of his jail stays, he got the news that his eldest son ,Tarek Nath(18) had drowned in the Ganga at Banaras. Two days later, more bad news followed. His daughter, on hearing about her brother's death killed herself in grief. Badridutt Pande was so overcome with sadness it threatened to engulf him too. He wrote a book called " Kurmao ka Itihaas" to emerge from the shock of loss. This book is still referred by historians.

He was offered a seat in the parliament after India's independence but he did not like the job. He was a freedom fighter and that is how he retired.

Once when he, along with other freedom fighters, decided to wave the Indian Flag atop Almora's police station, they were joined by hundreds of citizens. From among the crowd peeped a girl no more than 7 years old, with a flag in her hand. He held her up in his arms and she waved the Indian flag!!

This girl grew up to become a beautiful woman who married his youngest son Shakti Prasaad Pande. She was also his ardent supporter and companion in old age. She had lotsa children and later lotsa grandchildren. And whenever these grandchildren stepped the line or did something wrong they were told about the man who was their great grand father, a man with upright morals and undwindling determination. And given my affinity for misadventure i guess i have heard about him much more that any of my cousins.

Confluence of Alakhnanda and Mandakini at Rudrapryaag

many beautiful pics of Chopta trek still lost in the formatted memory card. Please help!

Habit- That easy way out......taking a motored vehicle to even the nearest of places.....and public transport just won't do...it has to be my own car...my own scooter......or my reserved auto!
Solution- something Doordarshan propagated many years ago.....start paddling.....or walking...as the case may be.....or get on that train or bus!!
Extreme- my first solar car!!
Did ya hear about- walkways in malls that generate energy from the foot pressure of people walking on it??

Habit- a very plastic life.......dat bag followes me everywhere.....while shopping for veggies, in the clothes' store....even wayyyy up in the Himalayas....and itz wide spread influence is not the only problem. It's gonna be around even when my third generation would look out of their old age home!!!!!

Solution- dig out that old sling bag.......cloth,jute....anything....and learn to say NO THANK YOU I HAVE MY OWN BAG everytime the shopkeeper carelessly packs all the merchandize in innumerable poly bags.

Extreme- what to do about the tonnes of polythene all around us?? Some people have started using it in railroad construction and some as a filler element in buildings......go discover!

Habit- giving pointless gifts to friends like photo frames, stuffed toys, cards. Eeeeh....too big a crbon footprint and no real feelings.

solution- gift plants( potted!!!), seeds........

Extreme- no gifts dude. i love you...u love me......bas ho gaya!!!

Habit- Extra lights, fan, computer on stand-by......hmm.........
Remedy- 1. Absolutely no-waste policy......task lighting while working, using day light when possible, switching off devices when not in use.
2. CFL.......sare ghar ke badal dallonga!
Extreme - 1.switch off the fan every alternate hour and enjoy the sauna-like environment!
2.switch off the fan while working or watching TV......the brain is too busy to notice!

WORLD ENVIRONMENT DAY, 5th JUNE, 2008

The 'Inconvenient Truth' is beginning to sink in. Our ice caps are melting, costal towns are flooding and the temperature is rising. The nightmare of our geography books is turning into reality!!

'The Amusing Truth', however, is that the solution to solving these grave problems is very simple. Turning off the extra light switch, turning off the tap tightly and making intelligent green and environmently friendly choices. We, who are addicted to over consumption and wasteful means.....it's time to KICK THE HABIT!!!!

For one month, I dedicate this blog to these choices.........let's GO GREEN........

There is a sufficiency in the world for man's need but not for man's greed. ~Mohandas K. Gandhi

This has become an annual affair for me. An otherwise productive human being thrust into an utterly jobless vacation where the most ‘happening’ thing is Mia’s nail cutting ceremony…..here is the best of what happened last year

Memories of Third Year

We experienced a major change in the way we lived (ref. to earlier reports on the pitiful life of prisoners in Jail no. 9) with the LAN and internet around. DC++ brought about end to ‘real’ social interaction in an otherwise united girls’ hostel. Telecom providers suffered heavy losses b’cuz Net Meeting took care of all the koocheekoo. My sleep pattern altered as the best time to download anything from an otherwise excruciatingly slow internet is 2 AM. Our projects and presentations improved drastically b’cuz of all the information around as did our game-playing and movie watching. We were now ‘connected’

More about the individual now…..

So your academic life also goes ‘hi-tech’ as they now accept CAD submissions. The Sarkar-Sandy duo makes Design something to look forward to each week. The big drafting board sits dejectedly in the lobby while the laptop becomes your new pet. Sletchup and itz brethren now occupy your time.

As for the ‘kya parha aur kya dekha’ section--- this was the year dedicated to meaningful movies. Dharma, Khuda ke liye, the Daniel Pearl story, Pother Panchali,Namesake, Kite Runner etc. Books were galore too… Shantaram, Clockwork Orange, Mud…….

Then one fine day you watch ‘the inconvenient truth’. That green seed, lying dormant after that ‘say no to crackers’ campaign’ in class 11, begins to wiggle again till all you can see or do is GREEN. No more drinking coffee in a plastic mug or eating anything packed or processed. Switching off every light and turning off every tap and delving deeper and deeper into this ‘ECO FRIENDLY’ pit!!

You were your ghanchakkar self again this year. Rajasthan and Ahmedabad with 2K5 & 2K6 was the best ‘academic’ holiday you had. IIT-Kgp is a must on the unwritten B.IT itinerary and you had to go there. From living in the dingiest lodge to extreme loose motions….all happened in a span of 2 days. The all-girl Kolkatta trip was magical. From Ms. Das’s Shosher Maach to College Street…..made you an even more ardent supporter of the ‘ I love bengalis’ club.

The 14 new people from MGR were a very pleasant change in the class of 21 who had by now drawn swords and wanted to taste blood at the drop of a hat!

BITOTSAV was the high point and the win unforgettable. You even got to see and feel the OBSA events up-close b’cuz of wearing the Khancheez hat. The quiz was a beginning and Reflections a great initiative but the bickering and enemy-like attitudes of class mates was two steps back when we had just taken one forward.

It was also the semester of realizing that change was afoot. Your fellow earthworm eater, the lazy evening walker, Mini animal planet, pleasing like a cool breeze and more addictive than a daily dose of nicotine was to pack his back and go. A beti shaped hole in your life!?!

So what palns now? Decluttering it shall be this sem……removing the essential from the chaff……in words…..thoughts…..and actions……

Allaha hafiz

GROWING UP……..

The last few days have been full of realizations and maybe a bit of maturing…….

Apathy is the biggest affliction of our generation. We care more about silly parties and sillier clothes than the pains and troubles of people around us. Anything that does not affect us directly can go to hell!

Shantaram was right. It is really difficult to find a selfless good deed. My search continues….in others as well as in myself.

There is a big gap between what we know to be right and what we do.
The tap in the toilet continues to leak and the tubelight is switched on. Nobody is bothered to put it right…….

Some people have an un-usually large share of troubles. Maybe it is the test of fire, the price for not sticking to the system or some other such funda. But after a limit you just hope it would all be all right for them.

With all this, you tend to ask yourself…..where is it all going?? What is the relevance of what we do, day after day, as human beings??

Still, with everything gloomy and going the wrong way you can’t help but hope. Life is full of surprises…both pleasant and unpleasant. Just that, even after all the yoga and tie-chi, when stuck between two unpleasant circumstances…. you can’t help feeling blue………

STOP!!!!!

Did you know that a person drinking coffee everyday in a disposable plastic cup generates 12Kg of waste annually? Not only this, the amount of energy used and carbon di-oxide generated to make these coffee cups is appreciable. Plus recycling in not a reality for us yet so these cups will be lying around the beautiful campus for some days and then in a landfill for the next 10,000 years!!!!!!!!

All this can stop if you make a little room in your bag to carry your own mug. Impractical…..weird……just too much work??? Not really….if you just try.


We are lucky to live in a beautiful campus. We must do everything in our power to preserve it. Little deeds done today can make a big difference tomorrow.

I Just had a Zabar-DUS BITotsav

In our first year, when we were still scared and ragged little minnows, we went to do BITotsav work for FAS. BITotsav was just another word then but Anuj Bhiyya, the then FAS presi, sat with us and explained what it was all about. He said, BIT really comes to life during BITotsav, hundreds of events happening all over the place. Anyone in their first year should participate in it.
That was enough to encourage us. Overnight we collected people, prepared posters and next day team ZabarDUS was in the battlefield. We battled it for three days with the intro skit, the events and finally reached core night.
Back then, we shrugged off things like ’pauua’. We just gave our best and after a tough battle came fourth. The whole four day process was so enjoyable that we never gave loosing a second thought. All we knew was that we were better equipped for the next year.
In our second year, we launched into the battlefield with a strategy. We knew the events and the rules they are played with inside out. We qualified into the core night with maximum points. That year core night was sacrificed for a greater good and we accepted it graciously. End of story.
By the time you reach third year, the rut begins to set in. every thing has a ‘been there-done that’ tag attached to it. So when BITotsav’08 was announced the ex team members failed to show the required enthusiasm. However destiny plays its game in strange ways. One day before BITotsav, I was sitting in front of the canteen with someone we lovingly call butru and a couple of my classmates. Publicity had begun…..teams were putting posters; people were shouting slogans…..the fever was spreading and we were its first major victims.
‘We have to form a team’
‘Four days in campus, during bitotsav, without participation is too much for me to bear’
‘We have played this game for three years now, let’s end it with a win’

Enough words for us to spring into action…….
Old flexes, chart papers, thermo cols and paints were promptly arranged and enthusiastic archis sprang into action. Three hours of work in the design studio amid a great deal of excitement and confusion, resulted in two giant sized posters that were carried to the canteen at 4 pm amidst drums beating, cheering et al. the poster read ‘ ZabarDUS….kuch yaad aaya?!”
Intro skit went extremely well, even though we were shooed off the stage for exceeding the time limit. However, during the lunch break, we performed the whole skit again, not for points but for the people who wanted to see a ZabarDUS skit!!!
First day of events did not go well. We were overconfident and disorganized. Events that we were known for winning slipped out of our hands. At the end of the day we were chided by our well wishers and we decided to pull up our socks.
Second day was magic. Audi and Binnie, our two team managers, ruffled and shuffled us between events with amazing efficiency. At the end of day two, ZabarDUS was not only back in the game…..it was leading with over 30 points!!!!!
Core nights are stuff college memories are made of. Our skit, on the theme Yaaron ki Yaari’ had the core roaring with laughter. Our fashP was on the theme Black and what it meant to us. We interpreted it as ‘ Black it was……black it prevailed…..and black it will be’. A mixture of evil, sensuous and funny depictions of the colour kept the audience interested till the very end. Punch was handled by our butru as was Mr. BITotsav with Anu supporting on the Miss BITotsav end.
When it was all over and the results were being tabulated, the CAT echoed with our team’s name……….ZabarDUS…..zabarDUS……zabarDUS. We knew then, no matter what the end result, we had won. Ten crazy first years who had started this journey had finally arrived.
And win we did! The whole CAT broke in applause and cheers, the entire archi was on stage……and we were all happy beyond words.
Many years from now, when I will look back on my college days I will proudly recollect the doings of ZabarDUS…….the highs and lows and finally the unforgettable win…..


PS----

Things I learnt-

i) There is nothing as ‘Pauua’. After three years of active life in the college, it is inevitable to know the Presis and the organizers. And if you do well, things are bound to turn into your favor.
ii) Without superb and experienced managers, the team fails miserably
iii) All events, formal as well as informal, must be attacked with equal zeal. In the end, every point counts
iv) ZabarDUS was never about just 10 people. It was about all friends who helped us get to the end with brush-strokes on our posters, lines in our debate, costumes for our skits and cheering on the final day. You made the whole experience special. Thank you.

A Valentine’s Day letter…….



Dearest Ija,

It’s February and love is in the air. Girls and boys are busy finding ways of expressing their undying love for each other. And here I am, thinking about you…..
Laws of nature tell us that life is all about moving on. Grow up, find a job, find a man, start a family and renew the cycle of life. But thank God for love!!!
The love that still makes you think about the comfort of your son before you go to sleep every night. The love that makes me sad when I think of my mother in an empty house. The love of my father who keeps filling my bank account lest I should need something. The love that comes from sharing the same house and life for eighteen years with your siblings. The love of aunts and uncles who spoil you with treats……
My love for you that comes from years of playing on your lap, from learning the alphabets off your tongue, from eating food off your hands, from the warmth of the sweaters you knit for me, from your sweet smell that filled my nostrils each night we cuddled together, from the long discussions we had about Mahatma Gandhi and Harry Potter….
If 14th February be a celebration of love then, Lady, I salute you and I salute our love!!!

Yours always,
Neelakshi

(Ija is the Kumaoni word for mother. Strangely, I always addressed my grandmother as Ija)

A month on the road……………

There is more wisdom in a mile of walking than in one hundred books.....

Well, going by that, I should be a pundit exuding knowledge from every pore of my body. The month of December was crazy! I walked, drove and rode thousands of kilometers across the length and breadth of the country finally to land back at my perch here at room 73.

It all began when I boarded a train at Banaras with 50 other ghanchakkars bound for Agra. Now traveling with 50 people can be quite an experience because there is never a dull moment. We did it all, from playing antakshari, singing bhajans, reciting Kabeer ke dohe, enacting Shakespere to conducting elaborate weddings! At Agra, we stayed in the cheapest of hotels, ate the most awful food, but had a blast visiting the Taj and Fatehpur Sikri. The monument of love did not inspire any awe because the moment was lost with thousands of tourists pushing and pulling to get their picture taken in front of it. At Agra fort, we got mesmerized by the shayaree our senile guide presented rather than the monument. Arz kiya hai……” shamma bekar hai agar ujaala na ho……husn bekaar hai agar chahnewala na ho”.

Next stop was Jaipur. We saw it all, from the world’s largest canon to the palace of nine queens. Watching a movie at Rajmandir was an experience as the hall has no equals when it comes to creating ‘movie magic’. Chauki Dhani, a resort village in the outskirts of Jaipur was where we had hukka, ate a 22course Rajasthani meal, feasted on chooran and had a jyotish whisper in my ear,”you’ll never settle in life!”(damn!shud have listened to him).

Then our troupe’ made a long journey to Jaisalmer, the far off desolate desert city. From there on a speeding Sumo (driven by yours truly!) we went to Sam, a village 40km from Jaisalmer. The camel safari was good, albeit a bit shaky! Then we joined in with the locals for a night of dance and music. Driving back from Sam, on the isolated desert road, is something none of is going to forget in a hurry.
At Jaisalmer, we also visited the only living fort in India, puffed some more hukka and spent a long evening shopping in the by-lanes.

By now, Rajasthan was getting to us, so for a change, we went off to Ahmedabad! Remembering that we were after all on a study tour, we went to CEPT, IIM, Apollo and finally Sangath, B.V Doshi’s office.
Not that we did not have fun. Mornings were spent munching on dhokla and the evenings roaming in the malls.

We re-entered Rajasthan to visit Udaipur. The beauty of its lake and palaces left us spellbound! We would have stayed longer but we were out of money so we decided to head home…..
At Delhi, where we broke our journey, guys and girls sat together and sobbed to Tare Zzameen Pe and later in the evening got lost in Chandani Chauk.
For most the journey ended there, they could rest their tired feet at home before joining in for the next semester. But for me, there was still a lot more to come!
When I got down at Banaras, my parents said that I had to join them for a week in the hills. So began the road journey to Almora. We met up with Gullu, Smira and her parents. The journey did not stop here. Our final destination was Munshiari, 270km from Almora. The twists and turns of the road took us two days to reach there. Yes, I saw snow after a long time. Gullu made us trek to far off places, up…up….up….we cursed him but there is nothing like the view from the top!!!
The high of this trip was probably seeing two naked sadhus, sitting amidst snow and smoking chillum!!!!
Alas! I had to break the journey and return to B.I.T. after all, it had been a month. So, after four days of traveling I was back. Its around one in the morning now and I am sitting hunched over my comp, googling out the next trip…..this time its gonna be spring fest at IIT, Kharagpur!!!!!

VIEWS OF COMMERCIAL COMPLEX @ RANCHI..........................

commercial center..............................

it's been a while.............

here is what i have been doing..............

this is the tee shirt design for this year's ZONASA...................

and these are views for a tourist information kiosk for Jharkhand designed keeping in mind the local art and building forms......................

coming soon................

Ranchi's highest appartment building & mall........................

Lovin’ it


When a regular folk walks into a restaurant what does he see and think? “Great ambience, pretty chic, hope the food is good.” But what do you say about a person whose brain buzzes thus, “ hmmm mosaic floor pattern, gypsum board false ceiling, diffused lighting, 2m passageway, hope they let me into the kitchen to see the service flow.” Well this is an architectural student in love with his field.

When you begin your life as an architecture student it’s all very hazy. Some come from families where everyone is in the profession, some are good with handwork and were cajoled by relatives to give architecture a try and most wanted to be engineers but landed up here because of a lower rank in the entrance exam. Whatever be the story, nobody knows were they are going. To mix-up things even more they see the sheets made by their seniors and sink into the gallows of depression-----the task not only seems difficult but impossible.

But as we turn in our registration slips each one of us is endowed with a special something. It is something equivalent to Shiva’s third eye. Let’s call it our architectural eye. It is a 6th sense which makes us see, feel, hear, smell and experience architecture and architecture alone.

For some it happens in the first lecture when the professor talks about the ‘noble’ profession they have chosen, for some on a field trip when they see their work in the real world, for some in a sociology class when they realize it goes beyond concrete and mortar, for some when they read Fountainhead, for some in a design problem they give their body, heart and soul to and for some unfortunate souls it never happens at all.

Once awoken the passion for architecture is all consuming. You will never see a gate without noticing the details, never a drain pipe without tracing it back to the toilet it came from, never walk through a space without reading rhythm, harmony, balance written all over it. You will wake up in the middle of the night to experiment new things on your butter sheet; you will close your eyes and experience your creation. Days will be spent on the drawing board without food and water and without a word of complain or fatigue from you. When this day comes you will become a true architect.