Breathtaking beauty....

                   On the eve of the festival of Holi, I left for my hometown, Ooty. Colleges didn't seem to be reopening any time soon, I reckoned I might as well spend the holidays at home. I didn't want to spend any time travelling, so I decided to take a flight to Coimbatore from where my father would pick me up. It was the first time I was taking an evening flight. It turned out to be one of my best ever memories.

                I wasn't one with take-off issues or landing issues; I’d booked a window seat and was completely relaxed as we took off. As the plane gained altitude, my eyes widened. To say the city looked beautiful would be an understatement. The lights and the traffic – the city was a sea of red and gold. The roads were lit up and to me they seemed like rivers of gold, slowly moving towards their own destinations. The beauty I witnessed had me overjoyed. The city looked like sparklers sprinkled all over the ground; beautiful as a bride, dressed to rejoice.

As the plane drew me further away from the city, I felt a smile spread across my face. I’d fallen in love with the city, yet again.

Of houses and homes....

                 When all hostel students were asked to vacate immediately,  I decided to camp at a relative's place. My stay here made me realize a few things. It had been a while since I'd spent much time at home. Even the holidays lasted not more than ten to fifteen days. Staying here for the past three days had initiated a new chain of thought in my mind. I did a little research and this is what I came up with.
                 The routine that households follow these days have made them similar to bed and breakfasts. With at least two members of the family working long hours and a few members being college students, it seems like there is no family time in this routine. IT company shifts vary a lot. These employees get home late at night, exhausted and sleep in late in the mornings. They wake up barely in time to go back to office. The little time they get before they crawl into bed at night, they spend on their computers, trying to have an online social life at the least. By the time they come home, the older members of the family are probably asleep. There is barely any contact between them, leave alone quality time to spend.

              Other working members of the family are burdened with their responsibilities and any idea they have of spending an evening with their kids is ruined by traffic jams and extra hours on the job. More often than not, people end up snapping at others solely due to the exhaustion they feel.
             Students, especially college students, have another tale to tell. Most engineering colleges work from 8.30 am to 4.00 pm. The time they spend travelling adds to their exhaustion. All they can do is crawl into bed as soon as they can. Students who try to take part in other activities find even lesser time to spend with their families. Sometimes, they just give up trying. Some may say it is all about balancing our life accordingly, but from what I've seen, most people don't seem to find that balance.
            I have seen parents try to stay up late just to find some time to talk to their children. I have seen children trying to help their parents out with their work in order to spend some time with them.It seems as if, day by day, homes have lost their essence. The essence of family and love, the time and space for loved ones; it is said a family turns a house into a home.
            The people living in the rural areas on the other hand spend much more time with the family. Often, most members of the family work together at the same place. They have no electricity in their homes but they light candles and lamps and spend time with each other.They have their meals together, they communicate and share their lives. The bonds they share are way stronger than any of us have seen. The effort they take to spend time with each other is inexplicable. They are family.

           We need to wake up and realize that our homes are turning into houses. The time we spend chasing our jobs and studies is not nearly as important as the time we must be spending with our loved ones. We need to make the effort to turn them back into homes. Because where we love is home - home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.

Us against the world...

               In my three years of stay at Chennai, this is the first time I have seen protests of this magnitude. This is the first time after the outrage related to the Delhi gang-rape, that the youth of Chennai have come together for a cause. I have been spreading word about the determination of the Tamilians to put together such rallies and protest to support their kin.

                When I spoke to some of my friends from other parts of the country, their reactions surprised me. One of them even said that they can’t consider this a big issue because our own PM was bombed on our own land because of it. It amazes me that the same country that came together and fought for the justice of a girl is now reluctant to fight for the justice of hundreds of innocent civilians. It amazes me that people think that just because a person assassinated our PM, his son being shot point blank is appropriate.

          Yes, the LTTE has shed a lot of blood, but does that justify the cold blooded killing of a 12 year old?The rest of India is closing its eyes and ears to the suffering of the Lankan Tamil people. I feel deeply disappointed that our fight for justice is solely our own.

                College students are still on strike, colleges are still closed and people are still dying. We need to stop more people from dying and we need to give the families of the dead some closure. Not by having Sri Lanka conduct its own investigation for human rights violation, but for all the war crimes committed and for genocide. The people who lost their husbands, mothers, children deserve more than what is being offered to them now. 

               I came across this link while I was looking for more information on the situation of Tamils in Sri Lanka. I must warn you, the content is extremely graphic. By the time I went through this link, my fingers were quivering.

                        http://www.countercurrents.org/vendhan100810.htm

 May their souls rest in peace. I urge everyone who reads this to make their best effort in bringing some peace to the families of these poor souls.

KCG Bazaar - the aftermath..

The Bazaar had come to an end, all our work had culminated into an extremely successful event. The weekend had gone better than we had expected. The stalls made a total profit of over Rs. 1,20,000 and a turnover of over Rs.3,50,000. Our satisfaction outweighed our exhaustion. As we left college, taking a good night’s rest was the priority.

I stepped into my room, freshened up and typed up the report for the Bazaar. The genius I am, I forgot to save it when I was done. I went out of my room to get myself some water, I tripped over my foot, landing on the floor with my laptop – which had turned off. In horror, I turned it on with crossed fingers hoping my work was still there. A big thanks to auto-save, my file was intact. Breathing a sigh of relief, I e-mailed it to Rosy ma’am and was fast asleep in minutes.

The following day was worse. I had to make myself wake up and drag myself to college. The only consolation was that all the other students involved in the Bazaar were also shuffling around the college like zombies. I was more than relieved when I was called out of class to settle some issues related to the Bazaar product stock. I made arrangements for the stock to be picked up from college. Since it was a drag to be in class after weeks, I gladly dealt with the issues. This improved my mood considerably.

When I returned to class, it took me all the concentration I could muster to pay attention. Being extremely active for over a month, it was very tough for us to remain idle. We did have the culturals, college day, hostel day and HYLC coming up. We didn't know that there would be a turn of events that would change that too. The issue with Sri Lanka was growing in proportion. That afternoon we came to know that Anna University was also closing all its affiliated colleges in protest. And with that began another story...

Despite all the tight spots we went through,I owe the success of the Bazaar to my mentors - Dr.Sumathi Poobal and Dr. Rosy Fernando and to my team - Varun, Hari, Ram, Paul and Arjun. All the time we spent for Bazaar, the meetings, the OD runs, the jokes and the fun. I couldn't have asked for a better team...

KCG Bazaar

                I was up early on the 16^th of March, 2013. Reason was simple, it was the Bazaar weekend!! I wanted to be at the stalls before anyone else, I wanted everything to be perfect. I checked on my team members and set off to the stalls. The stalls were all set and the shamiyana was also standing tall. I don’t mean to gloat, but the stalls looked really good. As I walked the length of the Bazaar, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that something may go wrong.

At the mehendi stall

                Yielding to my gut feeling, I checked whether the stalls were provided as many power sockets and tables as were requested, whether they had enough table cloths and many such minor details. By and by the stall holders began to arrive with bags enough to fit a month’s utilities. I had them fill in their paperwork and handed them their ID cards. As I was doing this, the rest of my team arrived too. We blocked the emergency exits to prevent them from being used as entries and stationed volunteers at each point. What we failed to note is that the junior students wouldn't be able to stop the senior students from making rogue entries and that we should have stationed some seniors instead. But well, we learn from our mistakes.

                And then we opened sales. It was inches away from becoming a stampede. We had underestimated the crowd, but somehow, the stall holders managed the crowd very well. The day went on with more and more students filing in. The stall holders didn't get a chance to breathe and neither did we. We were practically running from one end of the Bazaar to the other solving minor conflicts (which could’ve gotten real ugly). The inauguration was done by Mrs. K. Saraswathi, the General Secretary of the Madras Chamber of Commerce and Industry. We accompanied her as she visited each stall and interacted with the students.

                After seeing over two thousand people walk in, the stall holders had recovered their investments and were looking forward to make some profits on Sunday. We weren't expecting much of a crowd on Sunday but we were pleasantly surprised - over five hundred people visited the Bazaar. The crowd included families and friends of the college students and the like. My team and I also found some time to shop and have some fun at the stalls.

                As the Bazaar drew to a close, it was time to pick the winners of the lucky draw. We had two five-year-olds pick four winners, two from each day. We also gave away gifts to every hundredth visitor. The volunteers were relieved of their duties, but they weren't just our college mates then, we had become good friends over the weekend.

                When we finally asked the stall holders to close for the day, I sighed in relief. It wasn't my gut that was telling me something would go wrong, it was just me being paranoid and for once, it was a good thing. 

KCG Bazaar – the “pre” events

E-Week was over. All the documentation for it was done, all the events completed, all certificates distributed, all finances settled. Now, it was time for the KCG Bazaar, again an initiative of the students’ entrepreneurship development cell of the college. Scheduled to be held on the 16^th and 17^th of March, we had precisely four weeks to plan and prepare for the Bazaar. The core team this time consisted of six people – Arjun, Hari, Varun, Ram, Paul and I. Arjun was our photography guy while Paul was our design guy. Hari, Ram and Varun were the doers and the thinkers of the team, so to speak, while I was the documentation girl.

               Phase 1: The word-spreading-and-meeting phase 

                  With the guidance of Dr. Rosy Fernando, our mentor and Dr. Sumathi Poobal, our vice – principal, we began our work for the bazaar. It started with us spreading word about the Bazaar and setting up meetings with interested students. This was easier said than done. Some students needed a nudge in the right direction while others needed a big shove. We arranged over three meetings with the students who seemed interested and showed promise. As each meeting progressed, more and more students enlisted for the Bazaar. The numbers swelled from a mere 50 to hover around 250. The students teamed up and began to prep for the Bazaar. 

                Phase 2: The we've-gotta-do-this-we've-gotta-do-that phase

                    The part where the students decide what stalls they want to put up and how they are going to procure the items for their stalls. Yet again, Rosy ma’am was there to help. While we were running all over the campus trying to get On – Duty slips signed for all the students (the toughest job of all) , Rosy ma’am would meet the students and talk to them about their ideas. She helped all the students and gave them a lot of suggestions to improve their stalls as well. Using the ideas and contacts they gathered, the students began to look for places to buy their products.

              Phase 3: The I'm-in-I'm-out phase

                The phase where some students back out and need to be convinced again that they are capable enough to put up the stalls. We faced quite a few of these cases and handled them quite well. We gave them some tips and examples; helped them organize their stalls and then they were set to go. Another part of phase three involved the sponsors. While some of our sponsors were very true to their word, some backed out at the last moment. They had to be replaced – this was not an easy task.

                The end of the beginning phase:

Somehow we scraped through phase three and came up with the final phase. The setting up, numbering and allotment of stalls. The location where the stalls were to be set up was changed due to various reasons and there were the usual issues that accompany any event that takes place in any institution. In spite of those issues, we successfully set the stalls up and had all the stall holders pretty satisfied with their stalls. It was indeed satisfying.

On the eve of 16^th March, we left the college after making all the arrangements for the Bazaar. We were to come to college before the stall holders did and stay longer than them. It was definitely going to be a long weekend, but we all hoped it would also be a fun and successful one. 

Sand in the Glass...

When your mind is full of pain,

You feel you can take no more,

The walls seems to be closing in,

But the loudest noises never go.

You wish you could disappear,

Or find a place to hide,

Where there’s no darkness, no fear,

But that’s a fantasy, you realise.

‘Coz, no matter how far you run,

The pain will one day knock your door,

All the things you have ever done,

They’re a pile of regrets on the floor.

                                                                  You wish you could turn time back,

                                                                  Return to what once was,

                                                                  But now you know it can never be,

                                                                  Because now, it’s gone forever.             

You can try to believe in wishful thinking...

                But the sand in the glass will keep spilling...

Sand in the Glass...

When your mind is full of pain,

You feel you can take no more,

The walls seems to be closing in,

But the loudest noises never go.

You wish you could disappear,

Or find a place to hide,

Where there’s no darkness, no fear,

But that’s a fantasy, you realise.

‘Coz, no matter how far you run,

The pain will one day knock your door,

All the things you have ever done,

They’re a pile of regrets on the floor.

                                                                  You wish you could turn time back,

                                                                  Return to what once was,

                                                                  But now you know it can never be,

                                                                  Because now, it’s gone forever.             

You can try to believe in wishful thinking...

                But the sand in the glass will keep spilling...