After immense deliberation I have decided to tell the story of Mr (grim) ReaPer. Let's just call him RP for now (well his name is Ravi Prasad). Mr. RP was my professor in college, an authoritarian(not in a good way!) and was proficient in Computer languages, at least he thought so and we were "forced" to believe him. No offence meant, I am surely not the type who disrespects, or thinks lowly of a lecturer, infact I respect them and admire their noble profession, but with this one I had to make an exception. RP sir, as we called him, was what you may call a very under average looking tall and extremely well built man, a non professor looking and more of an office boy type. I can prove my observation with an incident.
It was the first day of college and a fresher, with absolutely no idea of the teaching staff, found a guy fixing the tube light in a classroom. He was lost in the corridors while trying to figure out his classroom, and on coming upon this person asked him where the first year classroom was. Of course the student assumed he was the college peon and asked him in a tone that sounded something like this : "Namaste Anna (Brother, more of a slang) where is the first year classroom?" The "college peon" gave him the necessary directions, and the fresher thanked him with the "Thanks anna!" and left for his classroom. The first class for the fresher hadn't started and when the lecturer walked in a few minutes later, you guessed right, the fresher was sorry for the rest of the four years and RP made sure of it.
Looks aside, RP was generally a very unsophisticated individual who used abusive language on the students. The moment he entered the class you could actually hear the pin drop. Not respect, it was fear. He had an annoying policy of not letting people take notes during his class. In his words, you had to listen and vomit them into your notebook later when you got back home. And if ever, god forbid, you were caught in the act of taking down notes during his class, dusters, chalks and swear words would fly around. The fiasco would end with your being kicked out of the class, maybe for the rest of the year, whichever favored his interest. Throughout my four years of engineering, there was never a time when he wasn't assigned a subject in my class. Thanks to the hype, created around him, when he came to teach us Information Technology and Numerical Methods (ITNM) in my first year, I was eager and happy. Little did I know then, that I would be taught only Information Technology (IT) with the Numerical Methods (NM) part left out for self study. Can I say that I had learnt everything, atleast within the prescribed syllabus, before I appeared for the exam, nope. RP would give us the worst slip tests ever, not to forget the next morning questionnaire on what we had previously learnt. One may think, that the student would have to be dumb, or close to illiterate to fail the final exam, given the circumstances. But, it was just the opposite, it was considered sheer genius if you managed to ace your semester exam. After the numerous classes he took , when my exam was nearing and I opened my textbook, what I found in there was nothing short of rocket science. My belief, given the right lecturer, rocket science is understandable that is how I grade my intelligence (I am a good student and a quick learner!), and here I was reading a simple IT textbook, prescribed for the average intelligence of a first year student, and yet, it was indecipherable only because his teaching had confused me totally. I feel grateful and blessed that I was able to pass my exam with decent marks. Another incident that took place during the exam is mentionable. While writing the ITNM exam, Mr. RP was prowling the exam halls, looking into student's papers trying to get a peek into what the students were actually writing (considering the fact that he hadn't taught anything). I remember clearly that evening, one of the students was commenting about how RP sir woke him up when he was dozing over his paper, and then how he was hovering around the area to make sure that the student wouldn't get back to it. Another student was also talking about how RP was peeping into his exam paper and how he kept trying to hide what he had written. The student also dared to comment on the situation. He said something like this: "That guy taught us nothing, what was he expecting to see in our exam papers anyway " I liked that one, and laughed my hardest that day. When I safely graduated to my second year of engineering, Java: Object Oriented Programming it had to be. This time I was careful, I studied before hand, but nothing was ever enough. There is this really funny incident that I must narrate. Mr. RP walked into the class one day and asked the students if any body understood what "public static void main" in a java program meant. "The entry point" was the common answer. He wasn't satisfied and he started asking everybody around. If we couldn't answer the question to his satisfaction, we had to remain standing. RP caught hold of one guy who he thought knew the answer, and kept telling that student (our hero!) about how wrong all the answers were. When actually, this guy did not know the answer himself. I assure you he was pretty afraid to own up to RP. The drama went on till the whole class was standing up, and then RP finally asked our hero. Rest was hysteria! RP stories were all over the place, too many to count. Students, even the college management said his name in fear, He-who-must-not-be-named. Personally speaking, I loathed him. I hated every class that he took, and I considered his teaching methods and general student-teacher relation miserable. And I sincerely believed that because he never had any knowledge of the subject, he just went about terrorizing students. He, for me, was synonymous to Grim Reaper. No offence meant, once again, but that was just RP.
I am what you may call a stationeryphillic (I know that no such word exists, ;) my editor shows me the red). I have an unnatural attraction for anything that can be termed (or even remotely called) stationery, from the smell of an old textbook to the wood shavings of a newly bought pencil, I love it all. Most people ask me (obviously it is a visible madness) as to when I caught on to the addiction, and well I say :
For 3 generations now we have been loving, collecting and truthfully obsessing over our stationery, it just runs in the family! My grandfather loved it, so does my uncle and now me(two other cousins have followed suit, both younger!).
My first hints of fondness for stationery showed when I began using colors. Paper and crayons was a lethal combination. I would sit with them for hours together, coloring every thing I could lay my tiny hands on, so much that at the end of the day I would be crying with a headache(I am a migraine patient!) but the very next day (despite my mom's consistent warning) I would be back to where I had left off the previous day. My fondness only amplified as I grew older and some very influential people in my life only made the penchant grow. My grandfather (a strong influence on my personality) was my first inspiration. He had this zipper bag full of pens, there were parkers, pilots, ball points, and the then famous hero pen which he would specifically ask my mom to bring from Madras, he also gave me my first parker pen. He had a fancy for staplers, gem clips, adhesive and the like, and would want to have them in plenty all around him, always. He was an author, mind you. His pens (pena, as he would call it, I just loved/love/will love everything about him!!) were his favourites and he taught me to treat them the same way as he did, that was when in school. I moved to college and there I had, influence no. 2, my uncle. He being my grandfather's son, also had a similar looking zipper bag. With him there was a difference. He dint just house his pens, there were pencils in plenty, well sharpened, and erasers, ofcourse a pencil sharpener, a scale, some glue, some colored pens, I'm not drifting it was all there(Not that my grand dad did not have those other things, only they were scattered). I was supremely attracted to that pouch and though I always had pens I would want just one more from there. Every morning, I used to see my uncle sharpen those pencils before he left for work despite the fact that his secretary could fish out a well sharpened pencil when asked for. This stationeryphillic not only loves his stationery he is super methodical too. I have tried being that methodical many times but (for lazy people like me) it never worked. And so, because of all the impact, I, Manasa, soon joined the club of the zipper pouch-ers. I had/ have my own pouch (a cuter girlie version!) with dozens of pens, ranging from fountain tips to ball points, parkers included, innumerable pencils from regular wood pencils to pen-pencils, color sketch-pens, hi-liters, erasers of different shapes and what not. I also have a collection of notebooks that I have picked up over the years. I don't let anybody borrow my stationery, because I strongly feel "Stationery lent is stationery lost!". I obsess over my stationery and to this day, go bonkers the moment I see nice looking notebooks, pens, pencils, colors or crayons. At the moment, I am a homemaker(a temporary status), not desperately in need of stationery but well, yesterday when I walked into walmart, and found a nice notebook set aside for clearance sale, I simply had to have it. And now you know, my friend, why I call myself a stationeryphillic. I am proud to be one.
I sat, one Saturday night, wondering what exactly would be God's response to terrorists on their judgment day?!
"Well done my son, for blowing up 1000s of innocent people!?" (or) "After your calculated, ruthless and insensitive attack did you really expect to see me, fry in hell!!"
In all probability the later. Most people may wonder as to why even give the first option , apparently the reason why terrorists attack is because they believe it is sanctioned by their religion, and hence the statement. What exactly got me thinking on these terms was a movie that I saw the same evening named "Wednesday". This movie portrays issues that any Mumbaikar/Hyderabadi or in general an Indian has been facing on a regular basis; terrorist attacks. The story starts off with an ex-police commissioner telling us his most interesting and memorable case. On a Wednesday, he gets an anonymous phone call from a "supposedly assumed" terrorist, who just claims that he has planted bombs in different parts of the city. He has demands(like any terrorist), he wants 4 terrorists who have been captured, to be bought by two policemen to an unopened runway. The ex-commissioner does not believe him, and so the Mr. Terrorist, to prove a point, tells him that he has planted a bomb in the police station opposite the commissioner's office. On checking the station, they find a bomb in the restroom. A point proven, the terrorist is taken seriously and his demands met. I will not delve into the other details of the story, for the fear of giving away the plot. The screen play is commendable, and so are the performances by all the actors, specially that of the ex-commissioner(Anupam Kher) and the terrorist (Naseerudin Shah). My perspective: Getting back to where I started off. Religions never preached violence. For people like me, who have an understanding about religions (I m not boasting, I come from a school that preaches "Unity in Diversity and Unity is Divinity"!!), the whole idea of killing for religion just seems laughable (no insult meant to the people being affected, but in a lighter vein) and foolish. God (a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew, a Christian.... and any other religion included) is always the loving one, and I guess that is the first lesson any child is/ should be taught. I feel pretty lucky that I was given the right perspective from the beginning, unlike some unfortunate souls who indulge in acts of violence because of their lack of understanding of their religion. Nevertheless, my dear reader, the movie was an attempt at showcasing the frustration of the common man on the issue of terrorism, and the attempt was admirable. I'd say that it is a 4 star 'er', must watch.
P.S: Please do not attempt to read the story on Wiki because, I trust you will miss the actual movie viewing experience. I have also been trying to add the video of the trailer, but for some reason (mostly technical, and my lack patience) not able to. You can, however, view it here.
Can I call myself the sports oriented type? May be, may be not! I was always into games all through my school days, the captain of the throwball and baseball team (not boasting, but I was!), but once I moved to college, I completely lost interest in sports, attributed solely to the "quit-playing-start-studying" attitude exhibited by most (must say all) of the lecturers! I would find it utterly boring to sit and watch any game for that matter, be it cricket (a big deal in India!) or tennis! So, when I got married everything changed (everything does, but my non existent interest for watching sports? now, that was quite un-thought of!). My first brush with sports watching was during the Superbowl XLIII . I still remember, it was a Sunday night and the night was young and alive (literally, well everybody in America atleast, was at home and in front of their tv sets waiting for the final match). We had a bowl of popcorn and cans of mountain dew ("favourite superbowl food!!"). My husband sat with me all morning, explaining the rules, just in case he would have to make clear right during the game. I wasn't really keen, but his enthusiasm caught on. I fretted and fumed every time Cardinals scored and jumped with joy when the Steeler's Roethlisberger kissed the cup! Knowing/Watching one sport did not suffice, not for my husband, he is into anything that keeps a scoreboard, and so, being the loyal wife that I am I have started following every single game and cheering for the same team he cheers for! Then came the Australian Open, when Roger Frederer played against Nadal, that historic game when Roger broke his racquet and also broke down after losing. I was up till 3:00 in the morning, all excited, like any normal fan watching that match, the only difference being I was learning the rules of the game while watching it. There was a dull spell for a while, my excitement from the deciding tennis match had completely worn out, there was no game, finale to look forward to. And then, began the NBA playoffs. I must confess, I have come to love basketball. Obviously, learnt the rules/ terms of the game from my husband, but now I am comfortable conversing the different facets of the game. Lebron, Kobe, CP III, KG, D-Wade and the list goes on, not only can I give names, but I also have my list of favourites. So, what do I contribute this sudden increase in my knowledge to? Surely not for the love of the game.
I used to blog (regularly, I suppose)on yahoo 360, and then a cousin(who blogs too..!) told me that blogging on 360 was uncool!.. soo I had to shift base!?! My blogs dated Apr 13, 2009 is the first of my blogs here, the rest of them are copied from my 360 :)!
If you do enjoy my blogs, please feel free to leave a comment or two :)
To my husband, who has been super supportive about my blogs, always reading them to ensure I have enough member stats (a follower!) and my mom (also a follower) who is always the first to read and appreciate, thank you everybody.. for making this possible!!
