blogging, singapore flyer, rashida mam

ahhh! 29 minutes to go for the festival of lights. second diwali outside home! missin mam’s enna thechu kuli, appa’s parrys corner visits, lalitha athai sponsored venky darshan.

friends, romans, countrymen…here’s wishing you a joyous outburst of color and happiness!

HAPPY DIWALI!

coming back to today’s agenda, today started off quite differently. i don’t know what exactly woke me up, but surprisingly i was off my bed @ 6.45 am. YEAH! 6.45 am! unbelievable, but true. woke up, went to the washroom, admired my handsomeness, and gave wardy a heart attack when she saw me up. she was in our room to do her daily “sathish, varun, akash…wake up” chant and was pleasantly surprised to see me up and unpleasantly surprised to see manas up. dhoom, whizz, blast…first fireworks went up today morning :P

uske baad, maine kya kiya, haan 5 minutes of sleep, JUST, 5 minutes of sleep. 5 minutes slowly became 1 hour and soon it was 7.45 and varun was next to me doing “kamala kuchakum kumakum…”(ahhh! those north indian admirers of mine…these are the lines of a devotional ‘good morning’ to lord venkateshwara). jumped off bed, found chikoti, didn’t find him actually, so had to do ironing on my own. uske baad went to the shower.
“i m siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing in the raiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin…i m siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnng in the raiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin…”! then brushed teeth (harvey metcalfe types) and went to school 

school! varshini, sanjana, shinjinee, pradnya…whatta beautiful place it is :P! today’s heroine is however someone else. ishita. english patriot, sheeja mam’s biggest headache, and 3 day-in a week neighbour. ishita, the story of a girl who wants to grow up and become an english professor. lolololololol! more aptly put, what “one minute, sir” is to niru, “mam, could it also be this?” to ishita…ahhh! jokes apart, ishita is a really sweet, slightly anorexic, fun-loving person, often on the receiving end of mine and varun’s jokes and brings really delicious lunches courtesy mommy.

why is she today’s heroine? well, actually because of me. sheeja madam wanted someone to do a boring old lecture on blogging and as i was temporarily unavailable, the mantle fell on our dear sweet ishita. and ishita with all her misplaced, misdirected enthusiasm went about writing everything she found wonderful about our class including certain highly controversial statements about me. what an awesome beginning to a beautiful thursday!

me: ISHITA BETA, please change karo na
ishita: nai, it is already published, i wont change it.
me: aaanh, please na, kyun aise karte ho? you are so sweet na…
ishita: sheeja mam has already approved it…
me: array, kyun nai samajthi ho…please please please change karo na…will get you lollypop…
shinjinee(trying to act all cool): it is just a blog, sathish, relax…
me: varshi, nee sollu…sanju, tell na.
sanjana: is she mental?
varshini: change it na…

finally, after much cajoling and coaxing, made it sound less controversial.
mission accomplished.

thursday first period – assembly! aah, was a complete flop show. 21 guns became “sorry, that wasn’t 21 guns”. a bullockcartexpress thought for the day. a “iwouldratherhavebeenplayingsoccer” news. fiasco would be an understatement!
highlight of the day was nidhi, who tried to salvage 9 igcse’s falling nah...subterranean image. she tried to control their cambodia presentation from downstage, signalling the speakers to stop, trying to mix video and audio with reasonable success. otherwise, complete FAILURE!

and then started the great blogging session. GIIS blog...yelled the projector. a more outrageous statement followed “blogging goes global”! LAWL! with sworn giis loyalists swarming over, it wasn’t the best time for smart-ass comments. this realization struck everyone minus paras. and yeah, time to introduce our subject 2 of today, rashida mam! facebook supporter, ever-smiling, beautiful by looks, beautiful by heart. she began “why do you think we have started a blog?”. the whole audi fell silent. however, paras (none of the above adjectives fit him...neither beautiful, nor smiling), aajka roadside romeo, HAD to act smart. “it is because some other school came up with a better blog” romeo yelled expecting appreciation from his buddies. the volcano that was parul mam erupted. “come here, come here and continue the presentation...what do you think of yourself...some cool wannabe?” !@#$%^&*()(*&!@!@!@#!$!%!< expletives deleted>. aaahh, the poor lad, every drop of color drained out of his face after that and he shut up. for a while.

meanwhile, rashida mam dazzled us all with her “guts to face the crowd”. she calmly stood and faced all out catcalls, boos and hootings. everytime i have seen her, a smile remains forever etched on her face. as she goes about her daily routine, she infuses activity and energy into everything, everyone around her. academically, she was the real sweet invigilator during my mat sem 1 paper, class xii, where she was sweet enough to help me with sorting my paper and hardly said a word criticizing me. today, she was amazing, simply amazing. when vish questioned the need for a moderator on the much-hyped about GIIS blog to a thunderous applause, she waited for the applause to settle down answering with a decisive finality in her tone. her “you honestly think teachers are going to read your blog to find out what you are saying about them. we know what you think of us. come what may, we are your teachers. PLEASE, give us a break!” was 1000 TNT ownage! she also was one of the few teachers who rang up varun during his unfortunate chicken pox episode to wish him get well soon. hats off to you, mam!

and then began the juggernaut called ishita. her offhand speech went pretty well but for the part where she got caught in the dream world of class xii a, where we respect her english prudence and wisdom. her “no hooting” please was well, ROTFLMAO but overall her speech was worth a ‘8.5/10’ (overshot word limit, controversial statements, more like an article)

eventually we dispersed and met again for our chairman atul termunikar’s talk. this was a really exciting and entertaining lecture with students pouring in their own tragic tales and srividhya mam making a list of “vellilava...vechukaren” people(me, prash!). he gave us several strategies to cope up with studies and it made everyone assembled feel more confident about taking exams and feeling normal about their weaknesses. thank you sir for that!

aaah...finally singapore flyer! mrs.prema...sweet, cute, old aunty who came to school today. a planned talk on “stress management” veered disastrously off course after she went into a tirade on pernakan museum, evolution walk, and of course, masala dosa. her adventures in the mystic land that was singapore left the audience clearly unimpressed but what impressed me was what she was trying to convey throughout her tale. “when faces with stress, bow to it. if someone asks you to do something, do it” that’s the best way out of stress, she told us. short, sweet, simple :)!

and then the bell rang and the travel & tourism talk came to a much awaited end.

‘happy diwali’s rented the air.

it is diwali, time to celebrate, time to hog on sweets, time to dress up and time to visit lakshminarayan temple!

time to burst crackers, time to chill out with friends, time to call up relatives and wish “happy diwali”!

surely a time to regale and relax...

so bon voyage, my reader!

happy diwali and good night.

ciao.

senior school INVESTITURE

It was the glorious morning of the 19th of August, 2010. The Global Indian International School was yet again in a fervid grip of excitement, enthusiasm and exhilaration. It was the same nervous energy that surged through one and all when Barack Obama took over the reins of the United States of America on 4th January 2009. The very same outburst of emotion when Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger took over the papacy on 7th of May 2005 and precisely that swelling of happiness and pride in your heart when Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru took over from Lord Mountbatten as the Prime Minister of Independent India! The elation of having found a leader, the reassurance that we had someone experienced to look up to and seek advice in times of crisis, the promise of more prosperous times, and of course the hope that together we would all climb greater heights. Euphoria unlimited!

Today, we felt it all. The period of Sede Vacente, the days of the empty throne, was finally over. The man who stole a thousand hearts, he who was a living symbol of responsibility, intelligence and discipline, his whose voice could inspire the masses and his whose leadership would take us to an era where the flag of Global Indian International School would keep soaring high, the Crown Prince and his courtiers were going to be coronated today! It was the Senior School Investiture Ceremony and hundreds of students turned up to watch the newly elected Student Council being sworn in.

Very soon, the auditorium was a throng of yellow, blue, red and saffron, the colors of the different houses of the Global Indian International School. However, the true heroes of the day were elsewhere. They were the over fifty girls and boys, smartly dressed in blazers, lined up and awaiting their moment of glory. Our heroes, our role models, our mentors! Our very own Student Council comprising of young leaders amongst us!

For the teachers, today marked the culmination of a long drawn process of interviewing students, hearing their passionate dreams for the school, separating the wheat from the chaff and of course, completing the onerous responsibility of deciding those students who would carry the responsibility of leading the school for the next academic year. And they had done their job with cent per cent perfection! Here were the fruits of over a month’s time of hard work. Fifty-three dedicated, sincere, responsible students, each an excellent blend of talent and leadership qualities, all set to shoulder the enormous responsibilities that occurred in the functioning of the institution!

Leading them all was IB Year II student and one of the finest debaters of our time, Head Boy Sudip Roy. On a scholarship in GIIS, Sudip Roy is an excellent student, fine orator, skilled writer and exudes an aura of humility, diplomacy and passion, precisely the qualities demanded of a true leader. Complementing him at the top job was Head Girl Radhika Kannan, also from IB Year II. If there was ever anyone who could sing, dance, debate and of course, beat the IB on a day to day basis, it is Radhika! The Student Cabinet also comprised of Head Boy-look alike Subir Roy and Nishi Anand who took over as Cultural Secretaries. Shyam Sundar Subramaniam and Prerna Gupta took charge as Sports Secretaries while Shruti and Abhishek Aiyer assumed the posts of Student Council Secretaries. The House Captains and House Prefects of the four houses Orchid, Sunflower, Chrysanthemum and Hibiscus, the Editorial Board and the various Committees were also sworn in.

In his speech, the Principal Mr.GSS Rao expressed his congratulations to the newly elected Student Cabinet and administered the Oath. The Oath, which was taken by the Student Council, is a declaration of its resolve and commitment to work resolutely and selflessly towards the smooth functioning of the school. Mr.Rao also thanked the various Coordinators and the other teachers in the Selection Panel for having carefully chosen such a reliable, efficient and skilled set of students to lead the school and ended his address by wishing the Council the very best of luck in all its future endeavors.

P.S: This is the article I penned for the GIIS August newsletter, my first since I joined the ranks of the school Editorial Board :)

my expectations from the education imparted in my school

“Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world." Albert Einstein

Since time immemorial, education has remained above the influence of those being educated. The educational system has ruthlessly squashed the dreams and hopes of students alike by remaining adamantly change-proof. Through this essay, I list a few expectations of mine which I hope to be seen incorporated in the present educational structure.

First and foremost, I seek a method of education where learning isn’t centered upon the whims and wishes of my teacher. I look forward to that Utopia, where I have an option of deciding what I would be taught, and how I would be coached. It is sheer insanity when I’m forced to learn Chemistry by rote memory, when my mind is playing with Algebra. Instead of having a common syllabus for all students which requires me to slog for hours with a concept I find least appealing, I would like to do something which I find fascinating, something which correlates with my likes, interests and ambition.

Edith Ann said "I like a teacher who gives you something to take home to think about besides homework." And I’m no different. I do not aspire for a Professor Kalam. All I ask for is a teacher who makes the class lively by her pep talks, informative by her knowledge troves, amicable by her humor and exceptional by her distinctive teaching techniques. She must drive in me the zest to be punctual rather than reprimand me for my laziness. So affable and unbiased must she be, such that even the most reticent student feels free to speak out his mind.

“Teach him it is better to be fail, than to cheat” Abraham Lincoln once wrote. Keith Townsend, the protagonist in The Fourth Estate would have exclaimed “BULLS EYE!” .It isn’t only the likes of Ishaan Awasthi that get put off by constant hammering due to abysmal performances, everyone does. My dear tutors must lay more emphasis on the learning that happens than the CBSE 0.01% Merit List. Why not try to analyze what caused my failure rather than putting me down in the “We’ll not issue him a hall ticket!” list?

No, I do not seek a school where I’m entitled to plush, air-conditioned, cozy classrooms with HP Laptops adorning each desk. The least the school must provide is an invigorating learning environment with essential technological infrastructure. Educational CDs, challenging quizzes, articulate seminars, animation films are more effective and etch a lasting impression in the students’ minds rather than monotonous Dr.ABCD’s , B.Tech, M.Tech, M.S, Ph.D, lectures. The brain dreads words, adores pictures. Technology-aided-education is the order of the day. My school must embrace it with open arms!

My teachers ought not to bring in occasionally a dose of “learning-by-doing” merely to please the meddlesome Education Officer. I require to be allowed to imagine, invent and innovate with my theory. And all I anticipate from my educators is encouragement and the offer to place their brains at my disposal. A poor bargain if I conjured up an Einstein-like invention, isn’t it?!?

Education in 2008 has come to mean quoting the entire NCERT textbook series back to front. When will this madness stop? I needn’t possess a 4 GB RAM for my brain yet I may be surprisingly scintillating with the 64 squares. My school must assure me of my overall development rather than selective progress. I expect my school to support and nurture my co-curricular talents. I may not be an ‘IIT Extended Merit List’ ranker, but why shouldn’t I be another Kasparov?

Finally, I do not advocate for a fatwa against sticklers for written works. Surely, knowledge is what that matters, not the number of neatly covered record notebooks stacked in your cupboard. I’m not against the system of homework but I would definitely benefit more if I were allowed time to explore beyond the boundaries of the known. Of course, I would love to have beyond-the-textbook assignments set to rack my mind. But, for heaven’s sake, no ‘Wikipedia Ctrl C + Ctrl V’ projects or ‘Copy down your entire book’ assignments please!

Barack Obama has succeeded under the banner ‘Change- We Can Believe In’. Will I?

[This is an essay I penned in Class IX. My beloved Vice-Principal Mrs.Rani-Rajan blasted me left, right and center for taking on at the Education Officer (who I realized quite late, was the person holding the competition!!!). Anyway, Article 14/57 of the Indian Constitution guarantees me the Right to Freedom of Thought and Speech...so Ma'am please save your breath!]

opalescent orchid

Friends, Romans and Countrymen!
I come to bury Chrysanthemum, not to praise it;
The failures of my House often live long after it;
The achievements are oft interred in its bones;
So let it be with Orchid…the noble Sunflower
Hath told you it deserved to win the House Cup;
If it were so, it was a grievous fault;
And grievously will Sunflower answer it;
Here, under the leave of Hibiscus and the rest,
(For Hibiscus is an honorable House;
So are they all; all honorable Houses)
Come I to speak in Orchid’s defense;
Orchid is talented, awesome and accomplished;
But Chrysanthemum says it will win the House Cup;
And Chrysanthemum is an honorable House;
It has brought many trophies to Queenstown,
Whose ransoms did the galleries fill;
Doesn’t this in Orchid seem promising?
When Orchid cried, Hibiscus wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff;
Yet Hibiscus says it will win the House Cup;
And Hibiscus is an honorable House;
You all did see during Sports Day
Orchid was thrice presented with the rolling trophy;
Which thrice we did accept; isn’t this encouraging?
Yet Sunflower says it will win the House Cup;
And sure, Sunflower is an honorable House;
I speak not to disprove what the other Houses told you;
But here I’m to speak what I do know;
You all did love Orchid once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to support for it?
O judgement! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason…. Bear with me;
My heart is in the blue there with Orchid,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

mark zuckerberg is my god, facebook is my religion!

The signpost read Mountain View, California. Nestled in the breezy environment of the Charleston Park, the five hundred thousand square feet compound was the Promised Land for any software techie. To the dim-witted postman, it was 1600 Amphitheatre Parkway. To the rest of the world, it was Googleplex. With all esteem and veneration, the Googleplex! Or the worldwide headquarters of the Google Corporation! And ruling it was technology czar Larry Page.

Tonight, he was a proud man. His Google Earth research team had improvised the existing software such that users could now view the planet as it had been 24 hours before…A MERE 24 HOURS PREVIOUSLY. A perfectionist by birth, Larry was determined to ensure that this application turned out flawless. He typed his first query “Vatican City” and two seconds later, he could hear the bells outside St.Peter’s Square clanging twelve. Great! His second request took him to the Ashes at the Lord’s. Fantastic!

To triple-ensure the infallibility of the software, he keyed in his last and final query “Maryland Sports Centre” and two seconds later, the image beamed on Larry’ desk. Larry’ brows furrowed. His smile creased. He zoomed into the image and the frustration persisted. He had expected to see youngsters cycling; playing baseball, working out and so on but what stared at him was empty courts, rusty sports equipment and a few solitary trees. This set Larry thinking. Was it a technical glitch? Possible. Or did it convey something more serious? Are playgrounds becoming more and more desolate by the day? Are kids no longer playing?

Brussels, New Delhi, Jakarta…the playfields in these cities wore the same deserted look. It confirmed Larry’s hunch that this situation went beyond a common software glitch. Children were indeed keeping off parks and race tracks. The software proved it beyond any doubt. But why?

Could it be studies? Feasible…but 24*7 marathon studying would drive the most sincere and fanatical of students crazy! Parental coercion? One kid, yes, ten, possible, hundreds, might be…but thousands across the world? Preposterous!

Or was it simply that youngsters no longer cared for the dust, sweat and blood of the play areas? Has the progress and advancement of the modern era come to mean an age of lethargy, inactivity and indoor imprisonment? Have adventure, exploration, sports and games taken a backseat? Three Olympics down the line, will we ever have another Michael Phelps, another Nadal or Usain Bolt? Will we, ladies and gentlemen?

Orkut, Connect, Myspace, Friendfinder, this is how the world communicates today. With the world going digital, our lives have increasingly become computer-centred. Computers at home, computers at office, computers at school, life seems to have been redefined to running from one silicon box to another. The joys of love, the bloom of sunflowers, the frustrations of road-side traffic, are our kids missing them all? With the coming of the Internet, our games are hosted on online servers; our conversations communicated over Skype, our sleepovers on Yahoo chatrooms…all from the comfort of our bed. Ought we ignore the loving care and affection of our family and seek instead the pokes and testimonials of strangers? Must our gaiety be dictated by number of notifications we receive? Should our popularity be determined by the number of profile visits we have had? Have we started leading two lives…a physical one on Earth and a more fascinating demanding one online? Are we slowly sinking into this virtual quagmire which we have created? Are we?

No, no and no! Ladies and Gentlemen, the woeful stinking stories that we’ve heard till now is a classic example of the human mind’s ability to make a mountain out of a molehill. Stay off the net, lose out on its countless advantages, let’s go back to living in caves and living off trees…surely, the words of a dogmatic individual, bigoted, parochial and obstinate. Furthermore, it represents our inability to utilize the benefits offered by science and technology and our nagging predilection to blame everything around us for our failures.

Freidrich Schiller once opined “Time flies on restless pinions - constant never”. How very true! Amidst our fast-paced lives, rushing from one place to another, meeting one deadline after another, we rarely find the time to socialize or spend time with one’s family. The fact that we live in nuclear families scattered across the world does little to help us. Enter social networking! Emails, instant messaging, tweets, connect with the world anywhere anytime. All this and more, just with an email! And the icing on the cake…it can be done alongside homework, assignments, and school projects. Calculus and Classmates can be real compatible!

Cocktail parties, Saturday night sleepovers, beach holidays, Pottermania fan clubs…how many friendships can these forge? Ten, fifty, hundred? Log on to facebook, update your profile, reach out to people, you’ll be astounded by the number of people you meet. Shared passions, mutual friends, common interests…social networking exposes you to the lifestyles and cultures of hundreds of thousands of people across the globe. Cousins at Harvard, dads at Dubai, friends from New Zealand…social networking brings them all straight to your home, to your desk, to you simplifying the distance, strengthening your relations. Just as if we are with them, breathing the air, walking the road, living their lives…

Half our evenings and most of our nights are spent Orkutting and Facebooking. This virtual presence can serve as more than a mere distraction for students. With teachers joining sites such as Facebook, schooling can take to an all-new level. Educators can merge academics with technology and make education all the more worthwhile. Teachers can be more attentive to every student’s needs, attend to their queries faster, and the teacher-student barrier can be overcome. The Oracle ThinkQuest Initiative is an example of how social networking, contrary to popular opinion, can actually aid and enforce education.

“Gossip-machine! Rumor funnel! Needless distraction”…

Ladies and Gentlemen, these are some fancy titles social networking has earned for itself. True, social networking does offer a platform to discuss glitz, glamour and girls. However, that’s not all that there is! Online websites, if properly used, can make people aware, educate them, empower them. Green drives, global issues, health advisories, consumer rights…social networking has carried such thoughtful messages too. Twitter, for example, has changed the destiny of a nation. Not India, not China, not America, but a remote republic in Eastern Europe. Moldova. A nation where governmental autocracy combined with police atrocities threatened to bury the seed of democracy forever. It would have succeeded but for Twitter. Twitter organized the revolutionaries; it lent a voice to them, spread their tale far and wide, and brought international attention to the debacle in Moldova. Thus, a mere website turned out to be the unifying force behind millions exposing barbarism and bringing in democracy. Does social networking still deserve the cheap tags we have coined for it?

What would you do if you wanted to reach out to hundreds of millions of people across the world overnight? Despatch postcards? Make phone calls? Front page advertisements on the Strait Times? Or simply go online? Knowledge is power. Information is the true liberator. In this information-hungry world, social networking sites remain a source of extensive information. From the NBA to the Indian Premier League, everyone remains convinced of the reach of social networking. Barack Obama’s election campaign, NUS’s undergraduate admissions, PETA’s animal welfare plans, social networking is the solution! Employers searching for prospective employees, girls looking for guys, imagine all this and more minus social networking…Impossible!

Opportunities don’t just walk one’s way. They are created. Social networking offers its users a platform to exhibit their talents. Facebook and Friendster combined have discovered more poets in this world than all English lecturers put together. In online portals, the stage is set, the mikes switched on, the audience ready…all that is required is you. Show this world what you can do and you’ll be stunned by the heights it can take you!

Ladies and Gentlemen, we live in an age where it isn’t just what we know that matters. As a matter of fact, who we know, who knows us are frankly more important. And social networking sites do exactly that! They create a new world around you. A world of countless opportunities, a world of infinite friends, a world of limitless knowledge, and a world beyond cultural and national divides! Let not the fears of couch potato-ism deny social networking its true worth! Let us welcome the opportunities of the 21st century with a broader mind!

Mark Zuckerberg is our God, and Facebook indeed our religion!

doctors' day speech

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I’m R.Sathish and I stand before you on this glorious evening to speak a little, well, not so little on the vital doctor-patient relationship prevalent in our society.

Last Wednesday, after much cajoling and threatening, my mum coaxed me into taking the much-feared medical check-up. I confess, medicines and I have never been best of buddies. Stray dogs, screaming dads, poochandis, paiyes and chandramukhis have never frightened me, but a tiny little prick with that needle can, to use the popular phrase, “beat the hell outta me”. I don’t know why, but it takes me 25 litres of water and double that amount of courage to gulp down a simple Crocin. At my dear old paati who has the pleasure or rather the horror of taking half a dozen pills a day, I can only stare in awe and amazement. Bravo, paati, bravo, I’m proud of you!

Half an hour later, amma and me valadukal-edhutufied into our general practitioner’s clinic and it was no different from what I had imagined. Plastered to the wall was this huge poster, “Cigarette Smoking Is Injurious To Health”, surrounded by tiny adverts singing the glories of half a dozen pharmaceutical wonder drugs. And of course, there was the 27-around receptionist akka, the TV on top with the funky hair dude on Sun Music, thathas and paatis complaining of “kannu mangala irukku”, mamas and mamis about BP and cholesterol, and to add a tinge of life and animation to this otherwise boring scene, were the little kiddos of all ages and sizes moving around restlessly.

If looks can kill, believe me, the doors in washrooms and those outside doctors’ rooms would be first in line. The fierce horrible looks these wooden frames receive would humble the most obstinate of individuals. The looks of those rushing is best described in my mother’s words as “Usuru pogaramari”, and the looks of those leisurely strolling out can be described as “moksham kadachamaari”.

Eventually, the much-stared-at door creaked open, and the expectations of everyone surged. The receptionist enjoyed her one moment of glory and took her own sweet time before feasting her eyes on me. “Sir, neenga poonga”, she echoed softly. Mr.Sundar and family walked out, relieved and reassured. Sonu, their son, was down with a bout of fever and god forbid, the doctor had diagnosed it as nothing more than an ordinary fever. Not malaria, not typhoid, just a mild ordinary fever. Medicines. Two days rest. No ice creams. 200 Rupees. Sonu’s ordeal was over.

Reality check, ladies and gentlemen! Is that all? Does the role of a doctor end with two worthless pieces of paper? The concern, care and efforts of a doctor, are these menial things bought when required and discarded when not? When a doctor scribbles his signature across a prescription, is he indeed penning it on a divorce application, alienating himself from his patient forever? Beautifully phrased as “vennumna vechhukaradu, illena thookipodaradu?”, are the services of a medical specialist yet another stock on the stock exchange? Are they, ladies and gentlemen?

A doctor’s role is one that is accompanied by remarkable selflessness, sincerity and extraordinary skill. Be it an ordinary paramedic, or a world-famous neurologist, doctors are on call 24*7, ignoring personal commitments, avoiding material pleasures, striving hard to alleviate your disease and discomfort. They are those agents of God, who deliver life from the crushing tentacles of death. A mother cares only about the well-being of her child. On the contrary, a doctor chooses to dedicate his life and career to ensuring the physical and mental well-being of thousands around him. It is the doctor who, with a combination of knowledge, experience and skill, works tirelessly to decode the enigma that is plaguing your body and usher in much-needed respite thus exhausting himself, physically, mentally and emotionally in the process. However, by forgetting this service once our illness is cured, aren’t we, ladies and gentlemen, being self-centered? For a person who has saved our soul from the evil clutches of death, doesn’t he DESERVE a more humane treatment? Should he be discarded from our lives not unlike a used napkin, his purpose served, life outlived? If not as an individual, doesn’t his work at least merit respect, appreciation and acclamation?

Doctors have affected the lives of millions worldwide. From Siamese twins to congenital heart disorders, they have corrected and reconstructed the lives of hundreds and thousands of people. I don’t advocate you worship only “life-saving professionals” like your cardiologist or ophthalmologist, even your family physician, when seen in proper light is worthy of your prayers. Every morning, when you say your prayers, remember God doesn’t come down on earth to save you. The altruistic souls who guide you every time when you are lost, those people who come to your aid when you are in need, they are the true incarnations of God! Remember, your God isn’t in the temples. He isn’t in the churches, nor in the gurudwaras or in the mosques. He is also an human being, racing from one checkpoint to another in this insurmountable race called life. He lives and breathes, like you and me. He is dressed in white, and lives not far from you. He is none another than your doctor!

Ladies and gentlemen, on this glorious day, let’s all promise to lend these gentlemen-in-white the credit they have for long deserved. A game of chess, an invitation to your daughter’s marriage, a surprise birthday party, let us make doctors a part of our family, a soul who attends to not only our sickness and sorrows, but also celebrates with us our victories, triumphs and joys. Let’s take a moment to acknowledge and appreciate the benevolence, magnanimity and charity of our neighbors in white.

To every single doctor in this world, I raise my hand in admiration and adulation. You have played a very crucial role in maintaining the peace and harmony in this world. You have been doing a marvelous job and I urge you to continue playing this wonderful role for generations to come. Great work, gentlemen!

And thank you one and all for being such an awesome audience!

Good day!

<This is the speech I delivered at the Indian Science Monitor organised BC Roy Memorial Award Function at the Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan Auditorium, Mylapore, Chennai on the 1st of July 2010>

gif-giis scholarship acceptance form - annexure 1

#1. Seniors must be treated with respect at all cost and all times. When walking up the stairs or sitting in the dinner table, scholars must ensure that they remain standing until all the senior residents have gone or eaten.

#2. The washroom and the adjoining areas are strictly out of bounds for incoming scholars after 7 am. Seniors are hereby empowered to reprimand the junior hostelites if found in the washroom after 7 am.

#3. Scholars must go to bed at 11 pm and get up at 6 am sharp. The timetable must be adhered to religiously. Any deviations from the schedule will be investigated rigorously. Even if the scholar isn’t sleepy, he/she must close his eyes and act as if sleeping in the presence of a senior.

#4. In case the scholar is talented (music, dance, drama), he/she must take prior permission from the seniors before showcasing them.

#5. Seniors can call upon the scholar at any time of the day for monetary, dietary assistance. Such requests must be attended to nicely for a 'Preferred Junior' status.

#6. In case a scholar owns an iPhone, or Mac, or any technological goody, the senior immediately acquires a 51% majority stake in it. The appliance will be under lock and key with the senior and prior permission must be taken in order to use it. In case the appliance isn't returned on time, the senior can confiscate it. Also, the scholar must restrain himself from flaunting it before members of the opposite sex.

#7. Scholars will be allowed to go out for shopping IF AND ONLY IF they bring back Apple Pie, Shaker Fries(Varun), McChicken[3], Shaker Fries, Ice Lemon Tea Large, Foot Long Veggie Delight, Fish Zinger, Large Coke, Cheese Fries, Mayonnaise and Curry Sauces (Sathish), Large Coke, Shaker Fries(Sudip), McSpicy(Subir) and other essential commodities for their seniors.

#8. Doubt-clearing in any subject is strictly prohibited in the hostel premises. Only under extraordinary circumstances, may a scholar ask his/her senior for help. In such cases, the senior must be notified at least an hour before. If the senior is unable to clear the query, it must be understood that the query is way inferior to his/her intelligence and doesn't imply ignorance.

#9. IMPORTANT: Under no condition, must a scholar attempt to contact a member of the opposite sex through phone, electronic mail or any other mode of communication. Any such attempt will be noted, recorded and the collected evidence will be sent to Mr.GSS Rao at principal.qt@sg.globalindianschool.org with cc to alphonsa.paul@rediffmail.com. All communication must be routed through Mr.Varun Sarwal & Mr.Sathish Raghuraman.

#10. Any extraordinary loyalty shown towards the Warden or sympathy towards Devesh is a criminal offence and the consequences will be severe.

I ......................... (Scholar's Name) hereby affirm I shall abide by all the rules and regulations laid above and keep the flag of the GIIS hostel flying high.



Signature

india 2020

The Thuraya satellite phone buzzed to life.

The man took the call and thirty seconds into it, ordered the caller to evacuate and killed the secure transmission.

Rizwan al-Zawahiri, the self-styled provisional commander of the Lashkar-e-Taiba, was a worried man. His personal bodyguard, Salim Ansari, had noticed a sudden flurry of activity in the countryside. The last few supporters of their cause had reportedly been picked up and questioned about Rizwan’s whereabouts. There had been a significant increase in air raids, many young and able-bodied men had visited the village in the recent past, and most importantly the much feared General Pervez Kiyani, Commandant of the Army Special Ops, was touring the village.

al-Zawahiri had the antennae of a moth. Months and years of hiding had cultivated his survival instincts. He was a survivor, and was determined to win this long and tiring game of hide and seek with the Army. Ansari was to meet him in half an hour with a dozen trusted men and together they would all move deeper into the hills, ready to battle it out to the last man if need be.

As he rummaged through his den, he located his preferred AK 56 assault rifle, an Army combat jacket, a Beretta pistol, two additional magazines, half a dozen grenades and two bottles of water. There was a sudden spurt of wind, and a few sheets of paper fell out of a dossier marked ‘MAXIMUM CLASSIFIED’. Cursing himself at his absent-mindedness, Rizwan bent down to pick up the fallen sheets.

Prime Minister Roy smiled back at him. How he despised that smile! Try as hard as he and his army could, Roy’s smile never ceased. Multiple assassination plots, attempts at spreading discord among Indians, fractured foreign policies, communalism, factionalism, regionalism, everything that they had tried had ended up with fluctuating degrees of failure. Increased defence expenditure, popular support, revolutionary and radical policies both at home and abroad, Roy had outwitted him every time. India was metamorphosing and Roy was the custodian of this change. Charismatic, flamboyant, intellectual, scrupulous, promising and uncompromising, Roy’s regime infused in Indian politics a sense of fresh blood and vitality, in sharp contrast to the decades of senility associated with the Prime Minister’s Office. Rizwan hated Roy’s guts and found him one hard-nosed sonofabitch and had sworn to see him dead.

Rizwan grabbed the paper and stuffed it down his haversack. His eyes glared angrily at a newspaper cutting titled “A small step for man, a great leap for mankind”. Over the past decade, their enemy India had achieved several landmark milestones in science and technology. Indian scientists had decoded the enigma called AIDS, successfully put man on the Mars, created high-yielding crops which ensured no Indian ever remained hungry and deciphered nuclear fusion such that the whole of Bombay now ran on nuclear energy. The plans to sabotage the India-Pakistan-Iran gas pipeline had been shelved after an ambitious chemist at the National Institute of Advanced Chemistry figured out how to use water as an alternative fuel. Darn! Damn him! Damn them all!

He was ready to leave. He took one last glimpse of his hideout for the past eleven years. Pinned to the walls was a picture of the Taj Colaba, taken on 27th November 2008. It invoked in him a sense of pride. The daring plans, the chilling executions, the kill ratio, the shock waves it sent across the world…those were the good old days. Mothers wailing, marine commandos baffled, bodies sprawled all over Mumbai, stock markets closed, national outrage at the police’s lethargy…his boys had done the impossible. His face regained its animation at this thought.

However, another part of his uniform mind soon put that thought to rest. There was work to do and he couldn’t let himself fantasize. His heart told him “26/11 is history. 25/12 is present.” On 25th December 2017, the unlimited reservoir called India’s patience ran out. After years of preparation, months of surveillance, days of readiness, the Indian High Command gave the go-ahead. The armed watchdogs named the National Investigation Agency, Intelligence Bureau, National Security Guard were unleashed on the terrorists. They were angry, smitten and vengeful. Within hours, over 1500 “sleeper cells” were busted, 7 out of 10 India’s Most Wanted terror operatives killed, and the borders cleansed of infiltrants. Operation Thunderbird had succeeded! India had hit back at its invaders. Words of adulation flowed from Washington to Tel Aviv. The why was understandable but the how still perplexed Rizwan!

To add fuel to fire, the Attorney-General of India Kiran Dutta ordered all pending murder, kidnapping, rape, corruption and embezzlement charges to be probed and acted upon immediately. That officious whore! By New Year 2018, India’s prisons were spilling. Corrupt bureaucrats, MLAs, ranking police officials, rapists, mercenaries, killers-on-hire, dons, drug peddlers, pimps…Dutta spared no one. New courts were instituted, the judiciary expanded to thrice its current capacity, all cases fast-tracked. Dutta had promised an India of the Mahatma’s dreams, and she had delivered. India was back with a vengeance!

As he stepped out of the cave, the words “Alwida Abba Jaan” echoed in his ears. He remembered Ahmed and Alisha, his darling kids. And Natasha, his loving wife! His had been a happy marriage. He loved and was loved. Until, until his hatred for India had blinded him to let go family. Rizwan had been radicalized and trained at Camp 101, where he was exposed to the harshest LeT indoctrination. Natasha had been stunned at his violence. The kids feared him. He was no longer the man she had loved and adored. She tried to talk him out of his fanaticism, his savagery, his abhorrence. For her, for their children, for them all. He had dismissed her. The LeT propaganda wing had been very thorough. He now found her weak, vulnerable, a nuisance. Rizwan dumped Natasha and joined the ranks of the LeT without a second thought on how his family would survive.

However, Natasha wasn’t alone. She had the people of India behind her. Natasha was ambitious, determined and sincere. Natasha toiled and rose to become the Executive Director of Media Corp, one of the biggest media corporations in South Asia. Her rags-to-riches story was a source of inspiration for every girl in the country. It highlighted the heights a woman could attain in India, when ambition combined with hard work. Women were no longer contained in the fumes of the gas stove; they flew planes, led armies, became astronauts, and held high offices in the country. As for the children, the Right to Free and Compulsory Education had ensured that they received proper education and were fully equipped to achieve their dreams. They had been educated at the IITs and IIMs on scholarships and were successfully pursuing their dream careers. Inshallah had been benevolent!

Rizwan felt a sudden pang of guilt. He had bled Mother India dry but she chose to reciprocate in the language of mercy and love.

"NO!” cried the LeT part of him. Natasha was past, Ahmed was past, Kiyani was the present. He was a product of Camp 101 trained to kill and kill he would. He was getting too sentimental, too unstable. LeT couldn’t have it; he wouldn’t have it. This way he would die, and he couldn’t let that happen. He would destroy India!

Carefully and slowly, he trudged the few hundred metres towards the rendezvous with Salim. He whispered among the trees, “Salim, Salim...”.

The sound of klaxons pierced the air.