Industrial visit to GHAATGHAR.

We all in front of dam wall

While surfing through, Saw some candid snaps of our visit to Ghatghar dam. The trip blasted like kilos of dynamite. We had a never forget fun. Well it was my first ever long distance trip with my college mates. Ofcourse we had "a college guyz" fun alltogether. We danced like any indian wedding ceremonial dance all the way in a narrow gangway in that 3x2 luxury bus. 
Malshej ghat was like a day-dream for us. Not a bit to believe. It throws all its grandeur over you while advancing at a slow pace through those narrow tortuous roads. Konkan felt a little hotter than Pune. 
Guest house at Ghatghar dam was a typical govt. guest house. Food we had there was good for our hungry bellys. 
Inside of ghatghar dam is amazing. Those godly machines and monstrous pipes feeding them reminded me of the movie titanic. The scene was same as that of those huge crank shafts vibrating furiously. Here crank shafts were absent but machinery was same huge. 
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Technically speaking, We saw two francis turbines, which are reversible flow turbine. It means that they can even be used as pumpms when there is scanty demand of electricity. 
MIV (Main inlet valve) is the only thing that fascinated me as a mechanical engineer. The way the work has been executed, i was speechless.


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Wow... The moment I took a bath after a long break of 4 days, the world seemed like singing as a lark... I am sorry but believe me I can give 100 valid reasons for not having bath these 4 days. 
My friends taunted me like hell when I declared midway in a lecture that I hadn't take bath for more than 3 days. Tushar clinched his nose with his fingers like ambience stank up like hell. I literally was not stinking at all. I was feeling like I was sick. 
Finally I reached home panting like a dog after climbing up 3 long staircases.

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Heading speedily towards Exclesior-'12. Have lots lots of art assignments to complete. Hope everything will go smooth like butter. Getting little tension if work will complete. crossing my fingers!!! 

My Gulbarga Trip

chor manzil in Gulbarga

     “Welcome to Karnataka. To get the lowest call rates while roaming with us, dial so and so. Enjoy your stay in Karnataka.” there was a message in my inbox. Our speeding Tavera transcended in the land anciently called as Vijaynagara Empire.

Far along the horizon, there appeared a mosque-like structure. In misty winds clad with vortices of dust, that dark silhouette appeared like a movie scene.

“Well that’s Chor manzil, famous spot in Gulbarga”, Kaka added to our curiosity. Its construction was same like Gol-gumbaz in Bijapur.

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     The day before yesterday I got a chance to attend 28^th national conference of BAMCEF at Gulbarga. This was my very first conference and it turned out to be a good experience.

     Although I am an apathetic child in the fields of elections and politics, I understood what Mr. Waman Meshram was trying to address from the dais. He put forth that in our regular elections, party becomes eligible to form the governing body by winning the elections, even if 30% of the total MPs support it. This he told is the defect in current structural defect in elections.

     The each and every word he delivered from the dais was coming with such an energy that it it was getting permanently engraved in the heart. Then I came to know why BAMCEF has bloomed in such a way.

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     Vihar near Gulbarga University is a magnificent delight for those who believe in Buddhism. A huge dome (Stupa) and a spacious meditation hall underneath work like a tranquilizer for your mind. In stupa a Buddha idol is seated with his two disciples.  Taiwanian artistry shows its way through the design of these idols. Lord Buddha, appears to be looking down to whoever is sitting before him and his two disciples; even their eyes appear to be fixed in Lord Buddha’s feet.

     As we lean down thrice before Tathagata, and get up, our ever-suffering mind starts to get narrow and gets truncated like pinnacle of the Stupa. Inner walls of the Stupa are decorated with Buddha idols with his various hasta-mudra. This scene adds to the aristocracy of the ambience.

     A large meditation hall, structured with massive stambha (pillars) resemble the ones in Ellora caves. Meditating there, with eyes closed, you can listen to a sound. The sound of serenity. The sound of silence. As you go deeper and deeper within your endless mind, this sound reverberates through the hall and fills up the multitudes of the nukes and corners of the mind. There you get a feel of the universal oneness. You step out of the hall, thinking that if 15 minutes session of meditation can render you this serene, then how a nirvana will… A state of complete surrender… A state called as moksha…

You step out in the golden sunshine and you get connected to the world again; the real world, under the scrutiny of burning sun. You start walking to home but enigma and that ancient charm accompany you forever after…

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Time to rest.

Hah... Finally I exhaled with a sense of being free. Finished all my exams on 2^nd. How soothing it feels when you come out of the exam hall and straightway go to some eatery with friends!!! No tensions of tomorrows, nothing important to do as such and no deadlines to follow. Entire time of the day to own. The best sensation on the earth.

A sudden upsurge of need to write something came out from deep bottom of the mind –ah – that  was buried under it since 45 days!!!  So, penning down some of my current thoughts.

Really, making way through any task feels like emptying a container. No more to do. And I think this feeling is essential in life -  like after jumping over a hurdle on the track, an athlete feels. He gets a new enthusiasm for running. These term end exams were no difference.

Feeling rather organized now. First of all, I cleared up the mess which was waiting in the room to get cleared right from the day preparation leave started and till the day exams got over. And why, it felt like releasing loads off the shoulders. I didn’t know clearing up your stuff functions like a “commercial” mood-booster before this!

Of nudity, sex and life

Beyond a bumbat sexuality, there exist humanism. A pure human, who needs acceptance and esteem from  society. Silk is a legend- created, fostered, exploited and thrown away by community. Though she is bold, her sufferance drags her to an acrimonious suicide. The worst part of it. Smitha is a rebel to oh-so-proudly sophisticated society. The line seriously bears the gravity- Hameshase mardoka zamana raha hai aur auratone hungama macha diya hai.

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Friday evening came with two great pleasures. One was the most awaited end of semester exams and the other was a bunch of movie tickets and best part was the movie tickets had the title ‘The dirty picture’. Yeahh… The same one.

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“What so dirty about it?” The film questions you. Are the costumes dirty? Or slangs? It must be the showbiz of some of the private assets that belong to a famous name- Vidya Balan. Umm-no. Silk, Silk smita. The ever glazing fabric which in turn came out to be frivolous.

At one point there comes a shot in which silk gets awarded for her work(?)  And unfortunately her ‘chief-exploiter’ gives away the award. She possess such a daring attitude that she stands in front of whole audience and vents her feeling off. She straightway questions the audience – ‘If I am filthy then what will you call of yourself? I make showbiz of whatever god has gifted me. Aren’t you the ones who look at it with lusty gazes? I admit my movies are not suitable for family watching but aren’t you the ones who watch them sneakily? ‘ At that point somebody calls her the real bagawat.

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Silk is another side of a woman, the woman who throws herself upon the men who beckon at her. She celebrates her womanhood her best. Here she is different than other women. She breaks all the rules set by the community for the proximities of opposites. She enjoys the “sex” part of it up to her fullest. Be it for the solutions for her personal purposes like success and for getting more work…

 But life wants everyone to be pragmatic at one or the other time. When it comes to the terms of the relationship, the only thing she gets is frustration. She can’t take it when the man who is so crazy about being naked with her in bed has nothing to do with her existence and happiness. She comes to know her position in his life when she sees his wife cuddling him up in his bed and his care for her which shows its way out through his gestures.

Her heart breaks into pieces at this point. She searches for love in every relationship she comes across but she finds every man far beyond being “tangible”. Nobody is ready to marry her. Everybody says-“aisi ladkiya sirf bistar tak laneke liye achhi hoti hai, shadi karneke liye nahi.”

This all affects her seriously leading her to withdrawal from her own life. In addition to this, she loses everything she collects through her life.  Money, status, fame… everything. To meet her rising dues, she searches for the work and meets a director. And fatefully, he happens to be a porn film director. He makes drink for her so that she can be at ‘ease’ during act. But police raids there and she gets thrown away on the roads. Alcoholised, she hardly can walk, she vomits on the road and sees her own reflection into it. That is the damn suggestive scene of the movie. The whole movie is decorated with many of such beauty-spots. A parallel love story of silk and imraan comes like a ray of hope but turns into a tragedy.

And finally, resigned from her battle for her existence, she says- “zindagi toh tabhi mehsoos hoti hai jab who sabse mayoos hoti hai”

That’s it. After that an overdose of sleeping pills. A dreadful peace fills up the ambience. The peace she is in search of from ages…

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Masculine Menopause

Yes, I am talking about the department. There are the limits for the generation gaps. When people start thinking neurotically that the nature of their young counterparts taking invasive stance, they start caressing their self esteem by JUST dominating them.

Incidence was my seminar assessment. I had become so vulnerable after my guide sent me back to correct my well-bound report. My mind was obsessed by thoughts of the lectures that were counting on that 50 marks phenomenon. Those are always sincere people who suffer. My case wasn’t any difference. Good-for-nothing ATMs in the campus added to my plight. I then went to Sunil’s net café. The only thing that felt like rescue for the time. He only can let my bills go forever. I went to him and corrected the report. It consumed the time equated to two of my lectures. I then reached to Xerox and printing centre, borrowing money from friend. (Thanks to ‘automated’ tailor machines in the campus and everywhere.)

There was a huge line in printing centre like tomorrow all people in the campus were boarding the Noah’s ark with their print-outs. With profuse sweat on my forehead and all over the body I was waiting hard for the turn. My turn was about to come and suddenly one of my friends called up and told the few more ’updated’ corrections that were to be made in the report. Listening to all people’s bombastic screams, like it was a music, I was editing my report there in front of everybody, on the ‘only PC’ that was available in the printing centre.

Finally I made it anyhow at 3:15 when all lectures were finished. I showed the corrected copy to my guide and she finally signed it. I then went to HOD for the sign which was mandatory and was told as the ‘important one’, without which we were going to be “virtually detained!”

After waiting for his calls to be finished, I entered his cabin for the sign. And- and he refused for sign. The reason was – why we did not attend the lectures today! Everything concluded like this.

We were no “virtually detained” for the HOD sign matter. But we were told to write an undertaking for missed lectures.  “THE TWO MISSED LECTURES!!!”

Of those four the first two were an Abhiyanta Manch venture. In which the principal was taking about the plight of rural students.

I want to make one thing very clear- I am not at all interested in social services. I don’t personally like to know about the rural students’ problem. My own life faces many problems every day. I get exhausted struggling getting solutions for them.  Why would I attend and get to know how tough others are doing? Be them my rural counterparts. Why would I attend such a socialistic lecture when I am told that I am on the verge of getting detained?

My whole day’s efforts behind presenting the state-of –the-art seminar report were in vain. All this because of one indecent gesture of authorities.

They want us to do everything at a time like we have an extra-ordinary expertise in all the things. Come on, we are just learning. There should be some restraint in their attitude I say.

Authorities never talk to anybody friendly, unless there is some work. Does that make sense? All the interaction we have is full of fear, anger for bad things, and no motivation for good things. They behave isolated, distant, irritated, and dry.

They are afraid of results dipping down. They feel insecure.

That’s why I feel department and the authorities are suffering from a menopause.

Sunday Alone!!!

I sometimes wonder why these Sunday evenings have to be so tedious. Feeling neurotic. All the melancholic memories resurface every time I witness a lonesome Sunday evening.

I remembered somebody’s saying, ” You don’t matter for me.”

“Maybe that’s why you wanted me to know that I don’t matter for you.” – My reply was followed by a thudding sound. Really, these earpieces of landline phones suffer a lot.

I look out of the window. I see mountain silhouettes glistening in silvery sunshine. Soon the ambience becomes vivid and starts coloring my mind too. The horizon is set alight by the time…

I found my cell phone was ringing when the thoughts about my incomplete assignments started horrifying me. It was Tushar talking about the same. Assignments. I felt little relaxed when he declared he did none of the assignments. And I felt little more soothing when I was in canteen with an amusing taste of sweet, milky tea.

To elevate the mood, I called up bai and asked how everyone at home was doing. Till I got back into pace, boys called me up and again I landed in the canteen. Relishing tasty pakodas prove one of the best anti-depressants. And being with friends proves one the best self-actualizing technique.

So that was it. The story of a Sunday.  

Bags Lelo!

Possessing all her wit, she entered the country. One must learn how to trade a 'hilton' way. after getting retired from her television and film career she launched her own range of bags. i cant analyze sometimes why these indian media have to be so prejudiced about someone who is so 'beatiful' having an X factor within.

Apart form her blonde and beautiful persona, i get a small hint of her being diplomatic too. I think india is not a country a foreigner will appriciate when he comes to the country for the very first time. Unfortunately our attitude isn't so patriotic like they posses for their countries. thus we are lagging somewhere to make the country impressive-looking. even though she says the words like spiritual and feel-good while explaining her experiences about the india. she orders her costume designers to design some good ethnic weart suit the indian culture. she declares she likes to wear bindi on her forehead.(Do indians care to wear this much ethnic everyday?) but she carries all the indian ethnic stuff so-swiftly. she admires the women here for their extra-ordinary eye-makeup skills. on top of everything she declares she would love to come back to india over again and again.

What i want to address from this article is - bhai, look at her marketing expertise! she knows her enchanteur of being a celeb is a long-ago thing in her home land. so she flew thousands of miles and has come to india to showcase and popularise her brand. Its worldwide-known thing that Indian community likes the packages which are blonde, rich and famous. she catches the nerve of the indian society.

anyways, keeping all her so-called frivolous gestures to herself, those are indian women who need to adopt the attitude she bears.

It is always easy to gossip about anybody. Indian people should be mature enough to broaden their sense of welcoming the things happening around them.

If hilton can do this, any celeb indian can do the same. there is no issue of blindly copying the things. its about your maturity levels. It is about enculcating the concept that selling your bags with a smile on your face and sugar in your mouth is not an objectionable thing.

If Paris Hilton is cunning, So we should be.