Letter to the Superintendent

I finally did something more direct with regard to my venting my anger on the despicable way in which NIT-K hostels have treated us over the last four years, the least of not is how we've to struggle posting these things with the snail pace photon modems we have. Oh yes. I missed the red underlines telling me where I had made my spelling errors, which is a pretty bad sign of things to come, especially for the next generation.

At what price?

My submission to virtuvian this year went thus...

We humans posses an ingrained attachment to things natural. This explains the existence of so many forces that persuade us to work for its well being. Of course, the degree to which this attachment exists in every human is quite different as people are themselves. But I am sure any human being can relate to the subtle leap of joy that bursts across one when something untamed and natural is seen, say a hare prancing around the campus or the sight of a wild flower around. This is something that sets the college apart from the mundane surroundings of the city. Nothing however magnificent or industrious, when man-made, can bring in us the same feeling a little mammal can by the virtue of its mere existence. The vicinity of a beautiful beach, relatively unspoilt by the human forces at hand, compliments the campus’ natural charm. A lesser known spot that will fit into the category mentioned above is the seasonal lake which is a result of an underground dam at the other end of the campus. Hidden away by the acres of wooded reaches that surround it, locations like these give the campus an ambience of a rugged rainforest in brief stretches, more so when it pours like the herald of the great flood.

Here is where I let you into my tribute to the hockey field. The field happens to be one of many which have been swallowed by the Mega hostel block in its wake. In the summer months, it was a sight of much playful commotion. During the rainy season, and particularly the rainy nights was when the field did rise to moments of enigmatic glory. Its surface almost entirely swamped, it stood, a watery nursery for many things wild and nightly. The creaking of the frogs with a number of other uncategorised sounds that emanated from here made it a scene to remember forever. In spite of its size, the field transformed into an untamed sanctuary on rainy nights; like a portal into a faraway jungle spilling out contents of its destination. While coming to terms with its existence, there is a feeling of regret that the new hostel block has inevitably consumed locations like this one whose presence I hardly valued until it was wiped away completely, like most things subtly dear.

Yet another spot which the hostel block has consumed is a monsoon pond that was beside the hockey field. This pond invariably overflowed and merged with the hockey field during rainy nights but existed right through the monsoon season. The road that runs beside the eighth block bridged this pond. Small as it was, the pond was complete with fish, reptiles, birds, pondweed and a shady end which was rendered thus by a tree spreading its arms benevolently upon it. Standing on that bridge with the pond on either side was a ticket away from the frivolous worries that humanity ever serves to impose on one. Perched kingfishers mounted above, ever on the vigil were a regular sight here. The sight of a snake slithering elegantly along its surface until distance stole it away from me to the arms of the tree’s shaded recess serves as it most fitting reminder. I miss the seasonal pond.

The rainy season here brings out the best in the campus; more so because it is the first impression made on the clean slates of our minds. The hours of twilight are when mother earth dons her most fancy garments; the light bright enough to showcase her beauty, and yet dark enough to hide that of her which we have served to make less desirable. The rainy season is one of ever longer twilights. The rain washes her clean of everything that human forces have served to besmirch with their untidy ways during its absence. It's rapturous thunder, and imposing rain drumming rhythmically on the earth is a welcome break from sounds of human noises violating the serene calm of the other seasons. When nature does choose to sing, she does so more beautifully than anyone else. The summer serves as a harsh reminder of what the earth will result in without rains to serve its respite. Pitifully, we are making summers harsher and longer than ever.

While cherishing the scenes I have written about among many others experienced, I regret to see their disappearance forever, and the fact that students from years to come shall never see the college in quite the light that I have. I realise that humans have created this campus; I am no hypocrite. But I regret the price being paid for its sustenance while questioning how much of it we really are sustaining. Having witnessed many greener campuses in similar locations, I only hope for a move in the direction of creating more such scenes rather than of their destruction.

Journey most cherished

This happened to be my submission for the yearbook last year. On reading it today after a very long time, it seems to me that what is written could be rather vague if read quickly by anyone else but its author. Anyway, let me see what opinions (if any) this post rakes up.

"It was a time when we were let into our world to be, for the next four years. All of us had joined NITK Surathkal, a reputed engineering college, with mixed feelings of satisfaction and regret. The ratios of these feelings however varied in every individual, while inspiring some to give the JEE another attempt. We all shared the enthusiasm that is the traditional sign of fledglings here, before it is hampered forever by repetition and modern electronic gadgets. Thus initiated was a journey most cherished and one that will be remembered by all of us forever.

My first year in college was filled with most nostalgic moments, which I would attribute primarily to the absence of work, a computer and other vices at hand. Places like the canteens, the beach and even Mangalore seemed much closer then. The excitement that accompanied the discovery of so many things, and a whole new way of life, helped to etch memories that much more deep. The joy of getting to the inter branch football finals, the sorrow of missing a penalty against the invincible final years. The joy of returning home for a week sometimes, and ironically missing the college midweek! A year it was, filled with long walks with the bunch, long nights of plain carefree discussion and discovering how wonderful life can be when there are five hundred people who can be a part of your happiness and difficulties. Though a few infernal machines started haunting the hostels by second semester, there were still the games of 28 (a card game) a night before our end semester exams. A revelation it was, the whole year, that most memorable are those times, closer to nature and farther from technological machines. (Fancy an engineer saying this!)

A time it was, when evenings were spent at the beach monitoring the progress of a torrential rain storm that is characteristic of the monsoon months here, step by step, as it inched over the horizon. The blue water changed colours, growing fiercer, clouds painted the sea with their ominous shadows. Everything took place so slowly, that it evaded the eye, ever on the lookout for sudden changes, yet happened so fast that it approached and enveloped us, taking us all aback. All this was witnessed with the sturdy shelter of the defiant lighthouse building. Land now turned into the canvas, painted by the wind with swift stokes of water curtains, as the torrential rain drenched us. All the while, innumerable pictures were taken with mobile phone cameras, hoping innocently that these moments could somehow be captured.

And the summer months brought forth the tranquil beauty of the sunset over the western coast. The sun eluding us, refusing to sink while we watched it continuously, yet disappearing a great deal if we dared to take our eyes off , all the while paving way for the emperor of the night to arise and rule. Majestically, did he display his prowess, shrouding the land and the water with silvery white light. A spectacle so brilliant that the most miserable and unfortunate creature upon this world shall find his life justified only to have senses to experience this masterpiece, to hear the mighty ocean rumble, smell the salty air, and be lost in this unparalleled bliss."

Em Won Decryptified

Ok, here is the elaborate funda post that I had promised earlier. My apologies to you if some of these seem too elaborate. I am not taking any chances. (Read making an idiot's guide)

The title is obvious... Initially I had thought of naming it 'me now' and hinting at reversing the words to make them more meaningful.

I find Dadhies' sideburns to be his first feature that comes to mind. And his name was supposed to be evolved from his imitation of a teacher who kept saying 'that is', which is what i used to clue. Datta's clue needs no explaination.

2nd paragraph is dedicated to the three of us who used to engage in games ranging from pictionary to listing out dota stuff to solving Hindu crosswords through class hours, with special mention of Sky's and Appu's. The clues read 'a run' for Arun and 'a four' for Achar.. a-char.

Ah! The third paragraph eluded most minds. This goes out to Hari and Koti who have dominated 2 semesters now with pointers very close to as many years in a decade.
Hari also means 'to tear up' in kannada and koti means crore.

Nerd bench time! Poor Baggy got dragged in. He got what was coming though. Bindu's clue is based on this once, when she misheard Arun saying 'Datta is a wannabe' as 'datta wants a baby', which created a lot of uproar in the njs-tam gang wing and also led to some imbalanced stories as to the aftermath. For the 'tenth avatar' clue think Dashavataram. (Not that lame airbender) Incase you aren't familiar with that sort of knowledge, it is supposed to be kalki, which can as well be spelt kulki on the same lines as bulky. Baggy pants are loose pants.

The fifth paragraph is dedicated to Jiggar, Sriram(The guitarists) and Harsha(The Chess Club member).
As for the last words part, Jiggar much rescembles arguably the most famous barrister of the world and father of a nation during his younger days (Think about it.. He does!). His gujrathi inheritance is icing on the cake. Mahatma Gandhi's last words were 'Hey Ram' which is crudely (poetically also) approximated to Sriram. And anyone who has ever seen Harsha has never seen him without his smile. I congratulate his parents for being one of the most apt namers of children.

Yeah.. Thats the jolly bunch.

Em Won Cryptified

Hidden within are distinguished members of M1 2006, 11 bangies and 2 locos to count them all. Fundae will be posted when the author discerns the time ripe.


You'll find this twosome to its hind,
mostly at nap, escaping the grind.
The first of em with burns charecteristic.
That is, his name, his language simplistic.
The second, alas, disappears with evening's glow,
the easiest to rescue when stranded in white snow.


Come forth to see the succeeding pack of three,
most fervently praying that class were free.
Mostly heads down engadged by game,
without an ounce of disciplined shame.
If you guessed them well, they are surely
a run, a four and your's very truly.


Drift down to the bench of the studious two,
most scholarly of the bunch make up who
in turns alternate, semester's to dominate
the class' scores with how many in a decade.
Their names in the local tongue translates
to tear up a crore. Blessed be their fate.


Step down further and you shall see,
another set of musketeers three.
But these unlike the ones above,
books and notebooks surely love.
One rumoured to want with the dark lord a baby,
loose pants, avatar tenth, the other two maybe.


To the end, to the right, another trio thrives,
either deep asleep or filled with jives.
Gods of guitar and god of chess,
sum up the trio, more or less.
One's name the other's last words to his brothers,
as for the chessmaster, always happier than others.