Mumbai beckons!!

In a couple of months now, I am going to be back in India. And it has taken me a long four and a half years to get to this trip. My close friends say, I have changed - and they are right. I have - in many ways large and small. India has changed too - in fact drastically so. From what I hear, the thing that hits hard is just how expensive things have become. That fact along with my extended family's illusion that everyone in the US is filthy rich just because they earn in dollars - has made me nervous to say the least. 

In the past whenever I have gone back home, I have done so to take a vacation and to recharge. Somehow, this trip feels different. No - I am not going to get A-range marriaged - and I am confident that once the hopefuls have figured out just how D-ranged I am - they too will adopt sanity and give up. No, the difference is that in this trip I have a lot on my mind and a lot of questions about my personal and professional life. As it has so many times before - I  am hoping the rocks of Marine Drive will answer my questions in salted whispers. 

I will be in Mumbai on Nov 26th. And I plan on visiting each and every one of the 10 places that were attacked three years ago. My friends tell me: "Don't make a big deal out of it" - perhaps they are right in their perspective. But for me that date will remain ingrained - it was the first time that I seriously questioned my belief in India. The events of those three days and the statements made by politicians - left me dazed and disillusioned. I had a thanksgiving break at the time - I had friends over, and other than sit helplessly in front of CNN, there wasn't much else we could do. It was then I realized that one of the most fundamental differences between the developed and the developing - is their value for human life. The contrast was stark and heartbreaking. And it changed something inside me forever. I was convinced that nothing will change the Indian political system and that at the end of the day - the ordinary citizen will remain the cheapest commodity. At the same time, it also crystallized a reality - that we have to try anyway. 

Let me admit here that I have no credentials to criticize how India works. And that isn't my intent either. And if you happen to resent my statements, I understand you.  I do not myself know what role can I, will I - play in shaping this country of my birth. Except that - my countrymen's judgements aside, I will hold on to this privilege and I can not wait to find out. There have been some that have given me hope. Among them is Parth - a sixteen year old scrappy kid - he has plunged head long into activism and protests - forming online forums and gathering friends to fight for the right causes. When I saw his optimism and zeal, to be honest, I didn't encourage it and in fact through my comments, I raised some pretty cynical and valid objections to his operandi. I am glad to admit - I was proven wrong. Despite popular belief - the youth of India understand their stake in the country and are anything but apathetic. 

And so when I go back home, I hope to meet this young man - and I hope he will be considerate enough to guide me. 

Also looming large in my mind is the question of marriage. After all, none less than five of my close friends are tying the knot this winter. But to be honest, the gravity of this decision and the weight of this institution seem overwhelming to me. In my experience of meeting people, making friends and falling in love - I have come to appreciate the infinite complexity of what makes us unique - of what defines our personalities. And I have no confidence in claiming to understand a person, despite prolonged acquaintance. To think that people tend to do so based on a one page profile boggles my mind. 

It was in Mumbai when I first came to understand love. It was in Mumbai that my vision of romance was nursed and nurtured through infinite movies and soulful music. It was Mumbai that patiently explained to me what holds India together. What drives every one of us.  That family playing on Juhu chawpati..... that couple stealing illusionary privacy. I hope the familiar waves of Arabian sea will explain this to me once more. And I hope they will help me reconcile a new and radically different vision of romance. 

I keep having these flashbacks - a vestige of the fun times I had in Mumbai as a college student. That friend circle is not only married now, but also has kids. In a depressing way - I know with some finality that my memory of what Mumbai meant will never recur again. Its for the best, you are meant to live in the present and shape your future, living in the past has never helped anyone. 

Either way in two months, I will land and buy myself a one month railway pass to CST, stand the door with the wind in my hair and hear what my beloved city has to say. 

- Sanket

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Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

They say sometimes you have to be lost to find your way. I have stayed away from this place for a while now. And it has allowed me to look at ADifferentQuill from a distance. And I realized that in the thirst for being appreciated, I stopped doing on this site what I loved most - writing for the sake of writing itself. Writing became more a means to massage my ego than being happy. So in true spirit of the change, I am going to base this article on a completely unpretentious topic  - a movie review!

'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' by Zoya Akhtar was a rather surprise delight. For the first time in a long while, I left the theatre feeling happy and light. Comedy films entertain you for a bit, but the laughter dies down later on. Drama films, when good, get you to think about serious issues, but the strain is unsustainable for long periods of time - and you soon tend to put it out of your mind and move on. But this film is different. More than laugh, it makes you smile. And by the end just delivers a simple message - as if saying - "Hey You!, Smile you idiot - you are alive and breathing, be happy for that" And truly celebrates the act of simply being alive. 

The jokes are practical and down to earth. The kind of fun you can encounter in real life when you are hanging out with friends. The story is actually a snapshot of 3 lives for a week. Of three close friends meeting for a vacation. All of them are in some way occupied by their problems and baggages. But by the end of it, they realize that sometimes letting go is the best thing you can do to help yourself. The message is nuanced and I am not sure how well it might be received in main stream Indian audience. But the film is technically sound and should do very well none the less. 

The direction is simple, sometimes too simple but the photography is breath taking. The film aptly shows the coming of age for Bollywood and in some sense India itself. It has a global presence and theme to it. The shooting is on par with the best of the film industry. Larger than life when needed, it is still grounded enough to actually move you when intended. 

The music is exhilarating, fresh and alive in every beat. Guitar is to Spanish music what tabla is to Indian. And in this film, the songs are mostly guitar based. This gives them a simplicity and freshness that is the exact opposite of the audio palette of a semi-classical Indian song. The lyrics are beautiful and Javed Akhtar's poetry is sublime. 

I loved the cast, its youthful, uncomplicated and multinational. The kind of global citizens modern Indian youth would aspire to be. Hritik Roshan is subdued but ever present, he is too much of a star to be just a mere part of the story, Abhay Deol is pleasant and grows on you. But the real surprise is Farhan Akhtar - this is an actor who plays well within his own limits, and his rendition of the comedy is the most natural I have encountered on screen in a while. Katrina Kaif does her part well. It is impossible to ignore her when she is in the frame. And in some instances, you really do forget to follow the dialogues, the scenery and be simply in awe of how gorgeous she can be. 

The location of Spain has clearly paid off. And for the song of "Senorita" - which is partly spanish, adds beautiful authenticity to the play. You have to give it up for the music director's guts to let a song be in a foreign language - and trust it entirely to the rhythm for the audience to love it. The Senorita song demonstrates aptly the sensuality and pleasure that is inherent in Spain and its singers. 

It is a remarkable contrast to the Indian culture. Where often times, in favor of seeking spirituality, pleasure is looked down upon. The Spanish culture on the other hand celebrates pleasures and the people for wanting it. These are a people who are not afraid to ask for extra helpings of ice cream, a more toungy kiss, an extra night with a lover and have a society that won't fault them for wanting it. It makes their poetry extremely sensual and its honest expression, endearingly human. 

It complements the film beautifully in its message for asking people to celebrate life. Well - whats new about that ? True, we have heard these cliches for so long, we probably just tune them out by now. But there is something to it. A few years ago I became friends with a person who was genuinely happy. Not that there weren't any problems or sadness - but for the most part, this person was - happy. It got me thinking and I discovered the secret of happy people - they are truly able to live every moment. I know, I know ... what does that even mean - are we to stop our car every time we see a sunset or what .. 

Imagine that you are having a dinner party and are cooking for your friends. To indulge yourself, you are having a small cup of ice cream while cooking. And while chopping your veggies, you accidentally cut your finger. Most people will completely focus on the finger and the pain, its overwhelming and begs attention. The happy people I have found - can not only attend to the cut, but also savor the ice cream they were having in the first place. The thing is life seldom serves you ice creams on a plate with no distractions. And most of us when we think of happiness, want that unadulterated, undiluted and undisturbed experience of happiness. The trick is to savor a happy moment regardless of where it occurs. So if you enjoy rain, enjoy rain even when its because you have a flat tire and you are forced to stand on the road. And the people we find are most happy - are the people who are better at this. 

They don't lie to themselves or ignore their problems, but they don't trash the good things thoughtlessly either. And there lies the message of the film, so go out and see it and enjoy it. Go for a run, an evening walk, sit by the sea or like in my case, just get over yourself and write! 

Cheers,

 - Sanket

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Starlight

I was walking within my apartment complex the other day - the hour was late and most of the world around me had already retired. The designers of my residence were thoughtful enough to include a long walking trail on the perimeter of our premises. It is aesthetic and wild with many a turn - winding through gorgeous tall trees and surrounded by beautiful foliage. In the day it thrives in the balmy summer air and bird songs while during the night it cultivates a cool breeze and the gentle rustle of tree leaves. A singular section of this trail goes through an open grass land - and on this particular night the sky was so clear that the stars above took my breath away!!! It caused me to pause my walk and lie down - and to think and reflect ....

[Image used in conformation of copy rights - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/71/M31_Lanoue.png]

I was distracted initially and I had a million things on my mind mostly revolving around my career, responsibilities and personal life - but after a while those thoughts settled and I felt anew a sense of calm - and in the silence of that moment - there was no one  and nothing between me and the stars. My breaths deepened and I felt myself intoxicated with awareness, for a brief period of time, we were breathing in complete harmony - me and the night around me. 

I have always loved stars, back in school I had managed to save up enough pocket money to buy a little telescope. This tube of lenses was my portal to the universe. Every week, I used to squeeze out some time - and away from the prying eyes of the world, I would escape to a tryst with these diamonds in the sky. 

Stars have a unique way of inspiring and humbling the human mind. They have been for centuries. Thousands of years ago, people of almost every civilization looked at the heavens above - at the same very patterns we see today - and tried to connect these revolving lights with the events of their lives. Almost anyone who has held an audience with the stars quickly comes to realize how minuscule human life really is. The sheer scale of the universe is staggering and quite beyond the realms of the most gifted of imaginations. Science itself has been trying mightily to encapsulate and explain the entire universe through one unified theory - from ether to the big bang - from string theory to the membrane, each time we thought we've found the answers - we've discovered - that we couldn't be more wrong. Even though I am a deep rooted and honest to GOD student of science - I find this human urge - 'to explain everything around them' - quite amusing, futile and of late unnecessary. 

What we do know is that a long time ago, our Sun and it surrounding planets evolved from the gasses and elements of this universe - first the star and then the planets around it ...... and eventually at one point - Life. Our comprehension and view of the universe has often times been too narrow and revolving only around the time the human species came into prominence on life upon Earth. Too often do we forget - that before us there was another species which ruled - that after us there still might be another creation to flourish and that before any of it we all really were just bubbles of elements boiling in hot lava. 

The intervention of that night's silence and its probe into my mind made me realize that often times we choose to dwell solely upon human life - and only our lives at that.  We surround ourselves with news and gossip - we argue and laugh amongst our friends - we fall in love and we fight - we hate and we fall in love all over again - we live and we die within and only within this tiny slice of time. While important, I find this view of life rather limited and sorely incomplete. 

I believe - failing to realize how minute and inconsequential our existence is - prevents us from understanding the true significance of life - and from admiring the true beauty of creation. Right before my conversation with the stars - I was stuck in a hard place in my life, one where I was perpetually worried that I might live my entire existence without making any significant contribution to the world. The dialogue helped me put all of my anxiety into perspective. 

The truth is we were all born out of this universe and when we die - we will all be part of this universe again. This concept was proven by Einstein but very few people choose to see it this way. There was a time in my life when I felt all living creatures were infinitely superior to dead things - like rocks and sand - where as the truth in fact is that the same elements that make all of our planets, make the rock and the same elements make us. We worry about causing the planet damage. Yes, its bad - and we shouldn't pollute - but its bad only for all life on earth - which - in the scheme of things is just a blip in the universe. I guess the point I am trying to drive home is that we make too much of ourselves. We have invested so much time and energy in trying to keep us alive for as long as possible - believing that a human life - rather a human's consciousness of life is the all essential thing to preserve - all the time failing to realize that it is the shortness and unpredictability of life that makes it so beautiful. 

As I lay on that cold earth - in total peace  - I felt for the first time as being one with the universe. All the problems and uncertainty of my life still remained - but I could  clearly hear what the starlight had whispered to me - That millions of years from now, when I would be no more - when Earth might be no more - we will all still, be a part of this universe - and perhaps some day a small boy on the top of a roof on some remote planet will see me as a speck of light - and be delighted once again as I was - this beautiful night. 

The only true meaning of life - I have come to believe is in enjoying our existence and feel - in each breath what our senses tell us. To find peace and happiness rooted in the certainty of our mortality and to enjoy this transient bijou we call life. We are after all - simply Starlight!!

- Sanket

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30000 Feet above the U.S. of A!!

On a recent flight, I was pondering over a friend's question.  It led me to delve deep and discover anew and hence this article!!

I have always loved heights - and I am never happier than when I am in a plane accelerating for take off. I guess it is to do with being able to see more of the world; a bigger picture. The higher the altitude, the better the picture. It is a time to let go of petty thoughts and elevate yourself. It is a place where it's quiet, where you can seek harmony and where you can be alone. Back home in India, I had a favorite spot on the top of my building where I would retreat to, to think, to dream and to soar above reality. Often times I would get there in the evening and then lie on my back, until all sky was changed and amidst its changing colors I'd get to befriend the stars, once again.  And as the eager wind played with my hair, I would just sit back and listen to the city, the myriad of sounds and little specks of light in the distance - windows to the life beyond.

Often times tired of fighting the school, parents and everything in between, it was the one place where I was truly at peace.  In retrospect, at the time, it was only the roof top and a teacher that saved me from total ruin. As the city grew quieter in the growing night, I knew I had to go home soon and my thoughts would return to the life at hand. Almost always dejected, I would find inspiration by reminding myself of my mentor's words - "Go to America - Don't stay here. You are meant to go abroad!!" And like the sugar sleep of a cold morning, the rooftop would make me stay five more minutes and beckon me to imagine of possibilities yet to come.

Prophetically enough, it was in the zeniths above North America that I found the azure of my life. What began as a fascination for the west, swelled to a powerful ambition and saw me fly out of my nest, over vast seas and onto foreign shores.  Over the years, the U.S. guarded my individuality and revitalized every creative instinct I carried. What began as a temporary abode for my graduate studies grew to be a new home for me.

Deriding my promiscuity and labeling me as a 'Non Returning Indian', an old friend asked me 'What is it about America that anyone going there  does not wish to return?' It was a banal question, one that is asked many times,  but coming from a close friend, it made me think ... "How could I best explain my affection for America?" And I realized, that often times the true reason why U.S. is so loved is rarely within guess of outsiders.

[ Image used under public license - www.wikipedia.org ]

The appeal of America does not lie in any one aspect of its nature, it is the whole experience and what it implies that makes the U.S. hard to leave. It isn't about it's copious wealth, or the carefree attitude towards sex. Neither is it about convenient infrastructure nor about the standard of living it offers. What people truly treasure about America is different for every person and is hardly ever encapsulated in one characteristic.

As for me, The United States has come to represent the only place on earth where you can be genuinely free and accomplish anything you want solely upon your merit. It has come to represent what a fully vibrant democracy looks like. The true allure of America lies in its core ideas. The belief that every citizen is equal and that every person has a birth right to pursue his/her happiness. It is freedom in the real sense of the term. Freedom to choose ones profession, to choose ones religion, freedom to wear what you want, to speak what you want, to love whom you want and to be yourself in every breath of your life. It lies in the honesty and fairness innate to almost every American. The real allure lies in the desire to be good, to be virtuous and to be rewarded for it. It lies in the certainty that your individual freedom is guarded at all costs and in the relish that your life is preciously valued.

It is a great country, it is a beautiful country. Even from a height of 30000 feet, it betrays a linearity of thought that is hard to miss.  It is blessed with a remarkable landscape. Sweeping fields of green and gold that caress the sunshine touching them. Breathtaking mountains and dazzling valleys revealing chaotic fractals of nature's geometry. Vast cities neatly laid out and complex man-made structures complimenting the landscape. Awe-inspiring networks of highways like ever flowing streams of human traffic evincing the nation's foresight. It is a land tended to with love and diligently nursed by its people, people who know they will be loved back. It is a house made into a home.

Day in and day out, it is this endearing warmth that thaws even the most frigid cynicism and makes you hope.  Its immigrant origins make it welcome and embrace you. Its patchwork culture gives it a unique sense of humor and makes you smile. Its belief in itself gives you confidence and becomes your strength. And  sure enough, like a flawed human being, it can sometimes be imperfect, but its heart is in the right place. It is people as people should be, mankind the way it ought to be. It is the one place its founders sought, the one place aspirations still seek. It makes you shun the unneeded and choose only the best to keep. It is an idea. It is a dream.

You can not understand why people love the U.S. if you are blinded by prejudice. Its an answer not to be sought on the floor with your nose to the ground, its an answer to be found in the transcending heights above.  

It is what I'd tell my friend, what I would tell my teacher, if only!!

- Sanket

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Childhood Flights !!

Anyone who is familiar with the story of Mahabharat would recall the 'Warrior Tournament'. After what seemed to be an appropriate training period when Guru Dronacharya thought it was time to test the warriors for their battle skills, he organized an elaborate competition designed to ascertain the best combatant in all of Hastinapur. Karna (the first son of Kunti and an heir of the Sun God himself) was the most superior warrior in all the land, virtually indestructible and naturally gifted with superior skills, he was the assured winner. Except, on the day of the competition the Sun God was veiled in clouds and Karna couldn't get his father's blessings. Frustrated and impatient Karna paced to and fro outside the gates of the arena as the crowds cheered on Arjun and declared him the winner. As the story goes, the Sun God eventually did reveal himself and Karna proceeded to set the record straight.

I could always feel for Karna - and tried to imagine just how hard it must be for him to wallow in the shadows outside, knowing he could dazzle all if only he was given a chance. Of late I have been feeling exactly like he must have, and I have to confess it is no fun.  As most of you would know and agree,  inspiration comes from sources unknown and there is no concrete rationale as to why one piece turns out cohesive and sparkling while another is found lacking. For the past month or so, my heavenly deity and the font of all my inspiration has been veiled in the clouds. For I have not been able to write despite try, and indeed it seemed as though the Gods were unhappy and hesitant in their blessings. Alas! I am glad to report the clouds have passed, the sun is shining and God willing, you should see the color return to my words soon.

***********

It was the October of '92, the school semester had ended and I was enjoying my Diwali vacations. If mangoes were the luring attraction of summer, then fire crackers and kites were the pleasures of Diwali. This vacation was especially important to me, for it was my initiation into some serious kite flying. Every year in the months of September to November, the kids in our neighborhood would switch affection and dote upon kite flying as the favorite sport. The month of September used to be particularly difficult to deal with, for just as I returned home from school every day, the sky would fill up with kites of all sizes and colors and make me go into a frenzy of excitement. However, returning home, homework was the first order of business, all sport and play followed later. In retrospect I think, this strategy was extremely detrimental to learning, as I could never concentrate on the boring study at hand and would constantly dream of kites dancing wonderful acrobatics in the sky right above.


The real world, to me was a far more interesting place to discover things. Filled with the most unpredictable surprises and mysterious dangers - it was clearly a school I was more likely to learn from. The education system at the time though, did not tolerate this line of thought and so, for the most part, I rebelled against anyone trying to impose rules and restrictions upon me. Vacations was the only time when I was truly free to learn what I really wanted to learn. I used to fill my mornings with quixotic experiments and record all my findings in a little lab notebook.

Filled with observations of chaotic rhyme, they are fragrant with humor to this date. 

1) Concave lens used to concentrate sunlight .... did light fire like the textbook stated .... very useful tool ........ to be used to make a gun for He-Man ...... will defeat Piyush's skeletor. Questions: What other rays can the lens concentrate? Is there really a gun with giant glasses?

2) Stolen sulphuric acid .... grade 8 textbook claims to be extremely dangerous ... hence stolen from lab .... causes bad smell when poured on pencil eraser .... to be used only when alone ...... caused annoying burn .... this must be corrosion. Very nice!

Extremely jealous of all hero figures that the books described, I carved elaborate ambitions of deed and fame and carried purest hopes that the scribblings of my little notebook would make history one day.

Afternoons were occupied with kite training. It is a special class of kites that can bear lanterns into the sky. Locally called 'Kandil Patang', they remain my favorite kites. Usually large in size and considerably more difficult to handle, these kites have an ability to bear astonishing weight. Flying them is a coveted skill and I was to learn it this semester break. However, the right to fly a 'Kandil Patang' had to be earned. It started with a bigger boy showing how to select the right kite, and buy the right 'manja' - string to go with it. Then he would proceed to fly the kite and send it as high as possible - I was to be the spool handler, designated to observe and learn. When the kite reached the right height, it was nothing more than a mere speck in the sky. At this point the bigger boy would let go of the string, and command the trainee to care for the kite until sunset.

I soon learned; 'Kandil Patang's' need a lot of altitude to be able to bear paper lanterns. The lower a kite is, the more vulnerable it is to wind shifts and predator attacks from other kites. 'Kandil Patang's', while great for flying lights, make for a poor fighter kite, clumsy and difficult to maneuver, they are often times easy targets. Because of their altitude, the sharp abrasion line usually used in engagement is out of effective range and as such they are extremely vulnerable to low level attacks. To guard from such  a tragedy, we used to usually fly these kites in scathing afternoon heat when no one dared to venture out. Once at the right altitude, the kite was often invisible to its own handler, let alone predators. If deployed properly and diligently cared for, the kite would remain in the sky for days unnoticed, capable of bearing lamps at will. It was the responsibility of the trainee to ensure that the kite remained stable, undetected and safe until sunset.

While initially difficult and a burden, the job of guarding the 'Kandil Patang' did become easier with time. I remember spending endless hours sitting in the nearby shade watching my  little speck in the sky, and willing it to stay quiet and calm. As a sport, I used to spray the terrace floor with wheat grain to attract pigeons. At times the warm lazy midday breeze would bring with it tunes of popular songs of the time, 'Dheere Dheere se...' and Kumar Sanu used to be frequent visitors. A reminder of some restless youth anxious over his girl, unable to sleep with unaccounted lust. And every once in a while, pigeons used to take my bait, and I would get to watch magnificent birds of grey, brown and white. I would take this as a sign of luck and smile happily at my friend above, thinking ..... tonight you will hold 12 lanterns - wait and watch!!!

If a trainee successfully guarded the kite until sunset, he would get 30 minutes with the 'Debonair' magazine that the bigger boys had hidden on the water tank above. Also part of the lure, was the assured promise that successfully deploying 12 lanterns was a sure shot claim to fame and was to make the boy irresistibly popular amongst the women. I was too young to understand that women in fact never cared for; who mastered the 'Kandil Patang'  and for the most part, were completely oblivious. For the moment, I was content to relish myself upon the nude and semi-nude girls of 'Debonair'.

In this school of choice - I was resoundingly the top student. I successfully burnt a small black spot on Piyush's skeletor and thus claimed victory. I mastered the huge kite and marveled at the dancing lights in sky. I learnt many 'Adult' things from the Debonair and came to love the girls. And when Piyush was cheated out of his 'recreational time' with the magazine, I rejoiced in exacting fitting revenge on the bigger boy that had foxed him. Sulphuric acid (although diluted) was put to good use and the elders learnt to respect the potent terrorist element in little ones.

Like the thousand kites of that evening sky, childhood imagination carried the lanterns of my ambitions and took them higher and high. I remember telling my grandma - that one day like the kite, I will go faaaaar and be just a speck, at which she reprimanded in motherly instinct and prayed - I never leave her side.

On some unfortunate nights, one of the candles used to fall in its paper lamp causing it to catch fire and thus break the string. And we had to endure the sadness of watching our beloved kite fly out of sight. Watching the dancing lights disappear used to be one of the hardest sights for a new trainee who had spent hours guarding his kite. Even the big boys used to show a rare glimpse of compassion in such times and assure us, that the kite was safe and that because it was tended with love it would go to a better place and one day be reunited with us again.

Battling the US recession, I often times feel as if a cruel and uncaring wind has snatched my floating lights. And like I did as a child, I sure hope that one day soon, the wind will cede and I will be reunited again. After all dreams are just like Kites, it is their destiny to fly.

- Sanket

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Purani Jeans - The Chaos of Engineering.

Its been five years since I graduated from Father Agnels; my Engineering college. Of recently, there have been talks about a reunion, and so it seemed fit that there be an article on our days in Engineering. This post has been a long time coming, but it took a final push from a fellow classmate for me, to overcome my laziness and pen down my thoughts. Its a challenge to write such a piece. Its very easy to write an entire book on the subject, but to be able to condense it all into one post, thats a tricky needle to thread. So here is my attempt, and it is dedicated to the class of '04. I truly hope you like it.

Engineering is a testing experience for every person who graduates from Mumbai University. But I speak of a very specific one when I write about my batch of '04 from Agnels, Vashi. It is easy and indeed very tempting, to narrate the whole experience as horror stories akin to those of Nazi concentration camps. And it is easier to turn the whole thing into a teacher-bashing exercise that my fellow class mates would throughly enjoy. But deep inside, we know, it wouldn't be right. For, not all teachers in my college were bad. And so, I am not going to dwell on that unpleasant topic, except to say this; as I look back now, I have nothing but pure sympathy for the few teachers who relished in torturing us. Surely any person who derives such sadist pleasure in the abuse of power and wrongful punishment of helpless students - must have had a rather traumatic childhood.




My story begins in the fall of 2000. I was as naive and green as the rain soaked trees of sector-9A Vashi. Like most recent 12th pass-outs, I was hyper-excited and nervous that first day approaching my college campus. As I neared the iron gates, I saw a group of students to my left, they were laughing and looked happy, and I relaxed, thinking .... this doesn't seem too bad after all. It turned out those students were in fact not from my college, they were from our neighbor's. The mood inside campus was far less jovial, with gaunt, haggard looking students wearing a perpetual expression of distress. Their fervent glances pleading a silent warning: 'This is not for everyone, leave while you can!!' Call it 'Destiny' but I stuck to the place, and to - what would be - the best and the worst times of my student life!


Once the course has started, and the formalities done, you quickly begin to realize, you are in this on your own, the only friendly people you have in the world - are your class mates. And it fosters an intense, duty-bound sense of loyalty and friendship, one that is unique to the stream of Engineering. In just one month, you learn the unwritten survival law, that says, "You may not like your class mates personally, but you WILL help them in every way you can!" There are very few people you can relate to, once your training has started, your friends from before wonder, where is it that you go to - to come back so exhausted, and your parents do not recognize the frustrated individual returning home.


As far as I was concerned, the campus was to be my home. It was my social life, it was my academic, it was the place to study and it was the place for fun. In the middle of our chaos, I found a harmony. It was here that I learnt how to speak in front of a crowd and not flinch. It was here that I leant, how to prioritize and make decisions real-time. It was here, that I laid the foundational concepts of my career. It was here, that I learned to endure stress beyond my limits. And it was in this period that I enjoyed my most untroubled sleep.


There is a distinct quality to Engineers; given any situation, they immediately come to realize what is doable and what is not, they make calls without second guess and they handle events as the situation unfolds. It comes to them naturally. Any person can evaluate and take practical measures, except, Engineers do not feel guilty about the compromises they make. It instills a defiant confidence that remains with you for the rest of your life. And, it has saved me many many times.


At a research meeting, when my professor wanted a paper completed - he gathered my lab mates for a meeting and asked "How much time do you guys need?" My American counterparts answered - two weeks, I simply asked "When is it due??" I did not know how much time would I need, but it was the Agnel-instilled confidence that said - It doesn't matter how much time you need - All that matters is how much time you have!






It is hard to encapsulate the essence of my college and the experience I had, mainly because it doesn't lie in academic transcripts or the courses I studied. It doesn't lie in the concepts I absorbed or the ones I didn't. It is amorphous yet potent. It lies in endless cups of hot coffee over the front steps. It lies in the jokes we wrote and the chits we passed - while we sat day-dreaming and distracted in classes of theory. It lies in the time we spent sitting on stairs, 'bird-watching'. It lies in the distinct sound of that dot-matrix printer on the first floor, which was to us, nothing short of beautiful music. It lies in the intoxicating smell of kerosene and xerox copies. It lies in the suffocating air of notes-littered hallways, as we waited our turn for a viva. It lies in the euphoria of watching all required signatures on our submission sheet. It lies in painful aches and cuts from the workshop of first year - to the carpal tunnel from excessive coding. It lies in our convoluted sense of humor and in our tacit arrogance screaming ... "Yes, we did!"


It is the sum of all parts, greater than the entirety.


It is in the enduring qualities I learnt from my class mates. Every single one of whom - taught me something. They were my team, and I was theirs. Our victories were sweeter because we rejoiced together and our sorrows less painful because we suffered together. They were the support and they were the hope, they were the gems and they were the jewels. They formed the identity of my class, and in some way will always remain a part of me.


The class of '04 and the paragons of my memories! With a salute to all, I offer you these. Come, share a glimpse of my class room, the people who formed me....


Some are not so obvious, they are the silent geniuses like Unmesh Kulkarni.

Some are tall, athletic and capable like Sushant Kadam.

Some are whimsical, albeit pervert in their brilliance, like our very own Ajit.

Some are beautiful, compassionate, generous and have it all, like the beloved Sushma.

Some are the heart of a crowd wherever they go, unmistakably Manavi.

Some are fiery and feisty in everything they did, like Roshan and Nadeem.

Some are flamboyant and larger than life, like Maulik.

Some wont say a lot, but perform proudly, like Amol Gawli.

Some are painfully virtuous, like Tushar.

Some have kept me company and made me smile, Pritam and Priyata.

Some are always up to something, like Sandeep Kaul.

Some you just can't miss, like Divya and Richa.

Some are incredibly talented, like Kripa.

Some are touchingly simple, like Apoorva and Harshada.

And some, will give you a run for your money, like Pankaj.


That is Engineering, these are the people, the paragons of my memories and the best parts of me!


- 100026 (Sanket)


- Sanket

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Paper Boat Little

As a little kid, I never studied in school. I hated tests and exams and never scored. In fact, whenever I used to get a graded test back, I would neatly fold the papers into quarters and twist the corners to make a paper boat! We loved our boats. You could throw away a dozen paper planes with no care nor worry, but a boat had to be watched and helped and nurtured for it to sail the distance.

[Image credit - http://moonmaid.files.wordpress.com/2007/09/paper-boat.jpg ]

Call it a sign from above, but the lower I scored on a test, the better of a boat it would make. For the most part, out of sheer compassion, I never told my parents and teachers where and how did I lose my test scores. My partner in crime, 'Bunty' - the ideal student boy next door, never uttered a word either. We thought it was better this way ...

Within the limited confines of our society compound, was a shallow canal made to drive rain water out of the premises. At the end of the canal, the water went into an underground drain and we never knew what happened of it. Bunty had heard from the old watchman that it all went to the sea. And thats what I believed in, one never questioned the old watchman.

During the months of monsoon, I came home only on weekends, and Bunty and I would beg, borrow and steal all the umbrellas from our homes and neighbors, open them up in my living room and cover them all with bed sheets. This would be our make shift tent. Under the tent is where we dwelled, every once in a while we would surface to civilization and ask my mother for more food. It was a good system and we stuck to it. Occasionally when a neighbor had to venture outside, he would find his umbrella missing and come knocking straight to my house. These were troublesome times, as our neighbors umbrella could very well be in the very middle of our tent establishment, returning it would mean a whole lot of trouble, so we would take out an umbrella from the fringe and ask the uncle to exchange it later.

Every so often, when we were busy enacting our adventures under the tent, we would hear loud thunder and rain drops on tin roofs. And I would grab Bunty's arm and say ... " Suuussh, Listen!! " And as soon as Bunty would hear the rain, his eyes would lit up, and we knew fun times lay ahead. And up the tent would go, sheets pushed apart and we would scramble away out the door! Often times without bothering to wear shoes. We would rush into Bunty's room, grab some old papers, and my test results and run to the water canal. We would take turns to shelter the paper while the other made a boat, and on the count of three set our boats lose in the running water.

As the boats took off, we would follow them eagerly around the building - till they reached the drain grill, the boat to touch the grill first, won. It was simple, it was fair, and it was the most fun I remember. As our skill at boat making grew we got more creative with our canal, and place tree branches and bricks in the canal to make it interesting for our boats to navigate around. When we ran out of things to put in, we used our watchman's shoes! On one occasion, our watchman came in to work wearing rubber flip flops, as we tried to set up our obstacle course, to our delight, the slipper itself went floating all the way to drain grill. Knowing we couldn't use the flip flops for our course, we promptly returned them to the watchman - "These are no good, but your chappal won the competition today!" We offered our sympathies as best as we could. Needless to say, the watchman wasn't impressed.

On one such fun routine, as we set our boats to sail and ran around the building compound, we were particularly thrilled, this was going to be a close race, usually one of our boats used to get stuck on the obstacles, but today, luck seemed to be on our side and both our boats were clearing the hurdles - ever so gracefully. The rain was picking up, too much rain and it could flood the boat and it would never float again. There was only a limited window for our race to take place. As we rounded the last corner - running excitedly towards the finish line, I was positive, my boat would have no trouble clearing the last obstacle. I was right, my boat sailed through, Bunty's got stuck. And as we headed for the finish line, I relaxed and beamed up at Bunty with pride, as if to say .... "Hail the victorious!" Though when I looked, I saw panic in Bunty's eyes, "The drain! The drain isn't covered!! "

I immediately jumped to the ground, clawing in a last ditch effort to save my winner boat, but alas! It was too late, the boat had sailed through into the mysterious drain. As the realization hit me, I looked up at Bunty with moist eyes, "Where does this drain go! Come we might still be able to save the boat"

We did not know where the drain went, we had tried before. But Bunty being the gentleman he was, still followed me outside the building and across the street, to see where the canal might be connected. To our expected dismay we only found one open groove in the ground, this one filled with ugly drain water. Surely our canal did not socialize with such filthy structures. Dejected, with a head hanging low, I returned to the building.

"Don't worry", Bunty said patting my shoulder, "Your boat was brave, I am sure it will find the sea."

"I hope it does." I said, "My paper boat little!!"

"How much did you score on that test ?? "

"7/10 " I answered.

"You really aren't meant to study and score, its unlucky for you!" Bunty concluded.

*******

Often times, when it rains heavy enough, and forms rivers on the road, I am reminded of that day, and of that boat. Shortly after that incident, I lost touch with Bunty, his family moved out of our building. As the wet sprays of water drops hit my face, and the scent of moist soil fills the air, I remember our little game.

There is an innocence to childhood that does not breathe without honesty. No matter what the facts, as kids we had unquestionable faith in what was told. Perhaps its the part of childhood I miss the most.

Come to think of it, aren't all of our lives little paper boats. Fragile - with a ticking life span. Like the canal course, we do not know what hurdle our boat is going to encounter, nor what will come of it when it does. As dejected as I may be at times, I convince myself, I will find the sea. Bunty says so. And Bunty got it from the watchman, you don't question the watchman.

Made of paper, pretty and thin, floating away always, a branch and a spin. See my paper boat ... My paper boat little!!

- Sanket

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Beauty

Its amorphous, its abstract, its simple and yet not
It lies in the eyes of the beholder, some say ...
What is Beauty? Who can define ??

In the strange delusions of my mind,
I seek the answers, one step forward and two steps back
I find the answers, or just call them that

And I see Beauty,
In soft sounds of waterfalls,
When water hits itself
From just the right height
Its innocent clarity, powerful and fragile

Or in the muddled light from clouds
Grey and cool, before a rain
Neither evening nor night or day
Just clouds making their way
Yet claiming a piece of time
Making it their own, distinct and aloof
I see Beauty, in clouds of grey

And sometimes it springs, so hard to miss
I seek and find Beauty
In sunlight upon lips of red
Or the scent of wind caressing a waist

As a lover so often can
Walk across a room in flowing grace
And in a moment , the thousand thoughts of your mind
She can make you forget.

When I am sad, it does go away
Yet always comes back like a good friend
In derivations of math, or in notes of music
In the warmth of a touch, Or the wet of a kiss

What is Beauty? Who can define??
No one can tell, Yet its yours to find
If you keep an eye.

- Sanket

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A Monograph on Driving!!

When I was learning to drive - a friend told me - "Touch the car as you would touch a woman - You will never drive bad!!" Its a piece of advice that I have gingerly treasured. Indeed I have found that when you keep this in mind, your driving becomes a whole lot smoother.

Unfortunately I lost touch with driving after that - and for almost two years did not drive again. Eventually when I got my own car - I had lost the finesse I was once taught. Yet, slowly and surely as I got to know my machine better, the old lessons returned. I had a particularly pleasurable drive today - and I thought of sharing my lessons - hence this post.

First the basics. This has to be your own car, does not have to be a spanking shining BMW, it can be an old honda accord - doesn't make a difference, but the car has to be yours, in that if you damage the car, you should have to pay from your own pocket. I have found, with this monetary connection comes unswerving loyalty and love. Next you need to find a route that you would enjoy driving. This can be an interstate or a country road - through a desert or through hills. I personally prefer canyons and would strongly suggest country roads. The lesser the traffic, the lonelier the road - the better are your chances of a real connection with the surroundings and your car. Next find a playlist of your most favorite songs that will complement your mood for the evening. Those are the basics, after that you just need to find a good 3 hours of time to enjoy your drive.

Pre Drive:- At (t-30 mins) do take your car to a car wash and give it a thorough rinse. Please make sure your car is as clean as it can be. Then take your clean car to the starting point of your chosen route and park on the curb. Ensure that you have selected your opening song - turn the volume of your audio system to a minimum mute and start your car. Apart from the guidance with the steering wheel, driving quality is mostly determined by how well you can control the pressure on your accelerator and brakes - so pay close attention to this aspect. Ensure that your seat is at the right height and position. Once this is done, I prefer to rest my right leg on at least two spots. One with my knee against the mid column and another with my heel on the floor of the car. You should be able to hold your foot parallel, slightly touching the accelerator once you have found the heel spot. This may take a little experimentation because everyones height is different - but with a few lateral trials, you should be able to get your car to this setting.

Next comes control over your motor nerves. For you to be able to precisely control pressure, you need your nerves to respond to exacting instructions from your brain - this state is better accomplished if you are relatively stress free and relaxed before you drive. Some breathing techniques might help - but the idea is to be able to control the accelerator and the brake to extremely micro alterations. So do whatever it is you need to do to enable that.

Once you have gotten into your sweet spot and your heel is comfortable, it is time to tune your hearing, there is a reason why I asked the volume to be muted on the audio system. You have to caress your accelerator and learn to identify the engine sound of your car. This is a highly personal attribute, in that very few people other than yourself would be able to communicate with your car via sound. A car's engine sound is your car talking to you - if there is anything wrong - thats what your car is going to use to tell you - so learn to LISTEN to your car.

Ensure that you are in park mode and rev up the engine. You should be able to identify your car's normal heart rate and also its EHR. If you have the cranial room, do pay attention to the various pitches and corresponding RPMs of your car. This will enable you to judge a gear shift or a brake call without actually having to distract yourself from the surroundings. After sufficient practice, this usually gets embedded in your muscle memory and you will be making changes without ever having to think about it. If you are really a perfectionist - test yourself by closing your eyes, listening to the engine and guessing the RPM. I haven't done this - but I know when my car is hitting red without looking.

When this exercise is done correctly, it establishes a supreme communication medium with your car. You can take pride in knowing that when it comes to your car - no one knows it better than you.

When a car is used by one person consistently, it adapts to that person's driving habits. No - this is no technology feature, it is basic mechanics. A person's wheel pressure, lock assurance check force, door checks, mirror and seat handling and in general driving style determine how every moving part of the car will wear and tear - this wear and tear is different for every car and every handler. It determines the health of your car over a long term and it also determines what mileage you can get off a full tank. So, it pays to treat your car well.

Ok, by now you have got to be aching to go. Open your eyes, adjust the windows, the sun roof, check your mirrors and ease the car onto the road.

There is a misconception that I want to address here. Many people think a guy's machismo is determined by how fast he can drive - this is utter bullshit. If you are a believer of this - you are on the wrong page and what I am saying here can not be comprehended by you. I define machismo by how precisely you can control your car - and how quickly can you understand subtle hints. So when you start on your road, do take due notice of the speed limit. A speed limit is no random number, if a road shows a certain speed limit - please be assured there is sound logic and science behind that number. Although you may not be aware of this - A group of engineers had to go through road drawings - determine the curvature of the road, the angle of elevation and determine a critical centrifugal velocity at which your car would be thrown tangential. Those engineers have been kind enough to include a safety buffer and that is how the number on the speed board is arrived at. Not paying attention to this fine piece of engineering is not only physically dangerous and mentally retarded, it is also an insult of pure aesthetics.

Having said that driving below or at the speed limit just because the board says so is equally lame. You need to practice a route to understand how fast you can take a curve - in addition to which you need to account for local law enforcement tolerance and arrive at your own comfort margin. I usually drive 5 miles above the speed limit. It is within engineering safety margins and also within cop endurance levels - in addition if pulled over you can always explain it away as human error. I hate when my deliberate, artistically cognitive derived speed has to labeled 'Human Error' - but trust me it works!!

Alright - so at this point, your car is clean, your tank is full, you are in the right frame of mind - your girl friend is back home - the windows and roof are in sync with the wind - and you are driving at a beautiful speed and you are on your favorite route. But wait - things are about to get better!!

Do take a moment to listen to your engine - if you find five minutes of consistent pattern, you can safely place this sound in the background - please bear in mind that you have to factor in the wind noise ( I am assuming you are driving on a lonely road ) - with that - you can switch on the song and bring up the volume. Again - the volume of a song is direct function of its genre, intent, lyrics and equalizer settings - do not be the stupid brawn that just blears out music. Learn to enjoy the notes - someone spent a lifetime perfecting voice and instrument for you to listen to what you are listening.

All that and more ... when done correctly, driving can be a most sensuous expression of independence and can become a rewarding celebration of ones success.

Zoom Zoom .....

- Sanket

(Quote credit: Sachin Deokar. cc Creative common license - Sanket Korgaonkar 2009 - All rights reserved)

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Rhythms of Mohabbatein!

Have you ever been hypnotized? Been so caught by a phenomenon that you lost the sense of time or place and forgot your troubles and worries? I was! Quite recently in fact. It was the day before Diwali and my local TSC Ballroom was electrified with the anticipation of the event. Students decorating, staff organizing, volunteers in their dance practices, people preparing presentations - it was what had come to be, the best part of college life in the U.S. - a chance to represent India. As for me, I was busy pacing to and fro - talking - trying to get a sense of what would hold the crowd, I was to be the Master of Ceremonies, and as always it turned out to be a little more stressful than I had hoped it would be. But in the midst of this chaos, I was happily distracted by a dance practice on stage. The music playing, had a long history with me - and so I was riveted instantly! It turned out two of my close friends, Poonam and Arti were practicing a fusion dance for the 'Rhythms of Mohabbatein' - it is a brilliant piece of music - but for the moment - my attention was on the dance moves.

There is a way to do things, and then, there is a way things are meant to be done. If you saw Poonam and Arti dance, you would know it’s the latter. Their movements were perfectly synchronized, and their choice of dance steps was in impeccable resonance with the music. The 'Rhythms of Mohabbatein' is a most unique melody, in that it combines classical Indian and Western music to form competitive polarized expressions. If observed closely, one will notice that the Indian classical dance moves and the musical instruments used - portray a myriad of traditional Indian values. Even at the peak of passion, the dance moves and the music display a reserve and dignity - that is unique to Indian heritage. The Western dance steps on the other hand, are of a more free form, self enjoyment and celebration being the key expression in them, they portray a freedom of expression and a freedom of choice, that one has come to associate the west with. What intrigued me most was the fact that even though their dance moves were the same, their expressions gave a most transparent glimpse into the personalities they were in real life.

When Arti dances, the expressions display an unparalleled concentration, her movements full of grace. You see the beauty of controlled discipline and immense hard work in her dance. This is a person who takes diligent care and effort in the perfect execution of her steps. Her smile radiating sincere innocence and a refreshing sweetness that cannot leave you untouched. Arti loves to dance! You do not see her kind of commitment unless the person has a deep love of art. It is very easy to see that she would put the same kind of care and fidelity in all facets of life.

Poonam's dance on the other hand flows in stages. At first, her steps are correct but her expressions betray a distant focus, this until she breathes in the music - and then the change is evident. Her movements pick up a zing and her expressions are accented with mischief. Then you know - this is full on - signature Poonam. She goes into a world of her own, the crowd irrelevant, the worries cast aside and her muscles respond off their own accord. She is free - Bold and Beautiful! And then she dances with a carefree assurance that stems from genuine confidence. This is a person - who knows she is gorgeous. Her aura challenging you as if to ask - 'Can you handle it??'

In unison they are sight you cannot afford to miss. Every aspect of their dance speaks volumes. There is joy and there is elegance, there is poise and there is arrogance, there is a mischief and then, there is also innocence. It is a personification of youth and a celebration of being alive. Watching them energizes you - makes you eager to face life. As I stood there mesmerized by the act, my friend Sameer commented - "Dance is in their blood!! You can feel it."

Indeed it is! It is dance the way dancing is meant to be. There is a power to its beauty you cannot imitate and an honesty in its voice you can never fake. And when all the pieces fall in place, they create a mysterious force- That - is what hypnotizes you. And so this piece is dedicated to Poonam and Arti, may the gods of youth continue to shed upon them their magnificent glory. And may we be gifted with their endearing benevolence - in many dances yet to see!

- Sanket

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Pinocchio's Nose

It had been some time, since Pinocchio had become a real boy.  And while initially he rejoiced in finding new life, soon enough life's troubles got to him. And so it came to be - that one night as Pinocchio sat desolate and alone staring at the sky, he caved in and summoned the Blue Fairy one more time...

 "Star shine star bright, the first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish, I might - have the wish I wish tonight!" And sure enough, a blue star glowed all the more blue and through a sliver of light appeared the Blue Fairy!

 "Tell me boy" - she said "Why do you look so sad??"

"I don't like being a real boy" he said. 

'There 's too much lie and deceit in people. And I find myself hurting again and again. I wish I went back to being just a wooden puppet - and never felt anything - never knew pain..'

The fair lady smiled at his appeal and waved her wand, she turned him into a wooden boy and bent down and ruffled his hair, then waved her wand again to turn him back alive.

And blew a soft breeze to straighten his hair, restore them back to once they were - once again. 

"Tell me boy, would you rather be a puppet - or once more be a real boy!" 

Pinocchio remained silent for a while. And pondered hard in his little mind, 

'Sure enough, I'd felt no pain. It would be nice not to feel pain. 

'Ah! - another voice countered. 'But the fair lady's touch you fancy! If you were not real, you would miss a thing as beautiful as that. Miss the touch, you so fancy! 

Alas, resigned, Pinocchio answered 'No, my lady, I wish to remain a real boy. But I want you to grant me one gift back....

'And what is that my boy? - the blue fairy asked. 

'I want my nose to grow when I lie or do anything bad. But not just mine, I wish everyone had a nose like mine that would grow and shrink with the deeds of the man. 

The Blue fairy smiled again.. 

'Strange it is, that you see a gift in what I once punished you with - This I will grant you - Pinocchio my boy.  From now on your nose will grow and shrink with every lie!

And so Pinocchio slept relieved. He thought, at least the world you be simpler. Oh! Yes - it definitely would be. For once a person's face, would tell you all there is to be.  He would no longer be lied to, And never would have to face deceit. At last, a person would be only as beautiful as he deserves to be!

Wake up he did next day, and went on about his little day. Confident and perky in his step.  A friend he met, Danny was his name, they had promised each other to buy new shoes - and exactly the same shoes - and wear it to school on the same day! 

But when he saw his friend's shoes, they were old. 

'Ah! You have broken your promise. You did not get your shoes. - he said. 

And Danny replied - 'No, I did go to the shop. I did not like the new shoes. No I did not! 

And sure enough as Pinocchio had wanted, Danny's nose grew larger even as he saw. 

'Oh! Danny. Let it be, I shall go on with my day without a friend - without thee! 

And so Pinocchio went on. And every person he met, he expected him to lie. And he rejoiced in joy as he saw their noses a tad too big, Oh yes, a tad too large... 

A good friend the Blue Fairy has been. He thought! 'I have to thank her. 

And so he called her again. And asked from the blue star, a favor once again. 

Once again through a sliver of blue light, the Blue Fairy came alive..

'Finally, you look happy my boy! - Tell me how was your day?? 

'Oh, I called to thank you - my fair lady. Everyones nose has grown long!! - he said.

'Really! - The fairy said. 

'To annoy you then, I should tell you, they are really not. I set them straight, not a tad too long, not a tad too large! 

Downcast and with a broken heart, Pinocchio asked 

'Must you lie too. Why set them straight. Why not keep them large??

'For all is not as it seems my boy. - she said.

'Did you know Danny's mother is sick. And with no money, the shoes, he could not buy. Walked he did all the way to the shop. And then kept the money to tend to his mother. Buy shoes - he did not. Though tears in his eyes, there were to be. I loved him more, for what he did. Yes, he lied to you. But out of shame and not deceit. Had you bothered to ask, a good friend you might have been..

Awful and ashamed Pinnochio felt. 'Oh! such a bad friend he was! 

'You seem to have noticed everyone's nose. You did not check yours? Did you not? - The fair lady asked. 

'No, my lady I did not. - he said. And saw with shock, his own nose, had grown so long, Oh so large.

'My lady, I did not do any wrong. I did not know Danny's mother was sick. How could I have known he did not deceive??? Tell me - why only my nose has grown large!!

'An unfair punishment it would have been. For no one but you knew their lies decide their faces to be...

'And while you did not know about Danny. You should have asked. 

Instead you rejoiced in everyone's misery and delighted in their fall.

Vengeance,  is never a virtue. It shall never be. It never was!  

And so Pinocchio went silent. He did not know what to do..

'Is there no one perfect. No one good - including me?? - he asked.

'No, my dear - The lady answered.

'You must take heart! Like you have realized if everyone tries to be.. 

'Though no man is perfect. Mankind might just be! 

'I do not think that will be so.  - said Pinocchio - still unconvinced. More than a little hurt and trying not to show - his tears to be. 

At last, the lady softened and felt tender for he was, but a boy! 

'Like the fingers of your hand - she said

'No one is powerful. But together as a hand, they are. 

Each one has its own purpose.

Together you can build the world as it should be! 

Then with a wave of her wand, she made Pinocchio's nose shrink back. 

Alas! A bit relieved he felt. He wasn't a bad boy, Not a bad boy after all...... 

'And sure I can make you of wood again. And sure you would never feel pain. But life as you have learned is strange and you will miss out on joy as well. 

'You are wise my lady. You know it all. But I get fooled by people's words and promises. And believe them to be virtuous as they claim to be. I have been hurt many times. Only because I chose to believe! - Pinocchio exclaimed. 

'In that you are right my boy. You should choose your friends carefully. But do not judge people bad - just so quickly. Do not assume the worst without finding the truth. The truth is often different - do not judge them - so hastily  - the fair lady replied. 

'What about the pretty girls! - Pinocchio asked. Determined he was - to learn all answers tonight. Know all that there was. 

'They seduce me with their smile. And then cast me aside. 

I feel used and stupid. 

Why gift them with beauty? Or why not make them beautiful inside? 

The fairy laughed - at the boy's dilemma. But was kind enough to reply..

'If all gifts were given to one. 

Wouldn't that be unwise??

And I could warn you of getting hurt. 

But then, you wouldn't dare or venture outside! 

'Though deceptive it might be,

You have to admit

There is art to seducing..  

And a pleasure in been seduced by.

Without tasting the aura of beauty

Its a pleasure, too good to miss 

A pleasure you should not deny.

'Find the good in people.

And live a day to its fullest.

For a day once gone, is a day gone by

Indeed there is some good in every person

Waiting to be found, Hidden until discovered by..

'You must choose your people

To love and to stand by,

A part of the earth to call your own

Your own little patch of sky

'This and many lessons there are to life.

And I could tell you all tonight

But the essence of living is to find your own way

Dream a new dream, every single night! 

And with that the Blue Fairy glowed even more beautiful. Too charming and lovely to behold she was. She kissed Pinocchio on his head. And turned to a star once again.

A Blue star in the sky she was. Shining bright. A fair blue light!  - Sanket

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