hive Oct ‘13 #10
Editorial Hello Again!! wherewhere students of MITID express their thoughts, students of MITID express their thoughts, It’s a whole new year, new beginnings for many, opinions and experiences with the opinions and experiences withrest the ofresttheof the while for some the extension of joyous times. This people. With With this issue to youtoa you lot of people. this we issuebring we bring a lot of is the first Issue of this year and so many of you interesting articles. Dadi Dadi Pudumjee gracedgraced our our interesting articles. Pudumjee from the First year don't know what Hive is. Well, collegecollege with his presence; we bring to youtoa you smalla small with his presence; we bring this is it! :P We would like to wish you all the best, interview conducted with with him. him. Speaking of interview conducted Speaking of make the most of your time here. I know this interviews, we have an Interview of Amish interviews, we have an Interview of Amish sounds very clichéd but time really flies here, Tripathi - the author of Immortals of Melhua, Tripathi - the author of Immortals of Melhua, except of course when you are in a lecture :D. the Shiva Triology. We have poem, two stories, the Shiva Triology. We ahave a poem, two stories, Being here, it’s a wonderful learning experience, an article about about inspiration and an of an article inspiration andaccount an account of not just academically. With initiatives like Quasar, what what it wasit like for a for cause in thein the was tolikework to work a cause Free Chai sessions and the enthusiastic celebranotoriously famous Budhwar Peth. Peth. notoriously famous Budhwar tions of all festivals, there is certainly lot to enjoy Reading Reading and look forward to. Hive is one such initiative, HappyHappy -The Eds -The Eds
Editors
Graphic
l to r Kartik Krishnan UG 3 Swaroopa Sanap UG 3 Palak Dudani UG 4
s te a m
l to r Anuj Prajapati UG 3 Shreya Joshi UG 3 Khushi Shah UG 3 Bhakti Shah UG 3 Devanshi shah UG 3
O
nce when I was safely tucked in bed My father bent over to me and said "You're bonkers, you've lost your mind But all the great people are of that kind" Thats from 'Alice in Wonderland' I accused After all, it was an old phrase that he had used But rabbits in waistcoats and talking mice To me, they were secretly plausible and nice Switching off the light with the snap of my hand I opened my eyes to Wonderland Imagining a dinner with the kind White queen I ended up in a place to which I had never been No! I had seen wonderland in my dreams And surely it was devoid of blood-curdling screams There were flowers there and not sharp thorns Why did all the sweet beings here have horns?
Why I
love the
MAD
HATTER -Arwa Merchant UG 3rd year
No talking animals, no portions that could shrink People do not even have water to drink What is this place called...a place of no worth The Mad-hatter walked in, "it is called Earth" "Well, they had called it Wonderland once But I'd take you to dinner if you give me a chance" And so, we ate on the ceiling, drank good wine Giggling and dancing throughout the dine Between all the fun and mindless chatter I also fell in love with the mad-hatter Even in his odd hat that served as his crest I am very certain that he looked his best One moment I looked at my destroyed home The very dream land I had wanted to roam It was far from what I had expected to see But the mad-hatter loved this home truly Cause in the next moment when I gazed at the hatter Not once did he question of what really did matter In his deep, green eyes I saw a love for the weird And I could only love him more for being that absurd
illustration- Shalaka Khopkar
interviewing
Image source: www.google.com
Amish
Tripathi At the recent book signing held for the launch of “THE OATH OF THE VAYUPUTRAS”, at Crossword, Amanora, I got a wonderful opportunity to interview Amish Tripathi. Excerpts from the interview follow. Firstly I would like to congratulate you on the immense success of the Shiva trilogy.
like a brother or a sister. The editor has to be as committed to the book as I am. We have massive arguments, massive fights but it’s because she is as committed as me, and I am a stubborn SOB and she is as stubborn as I am. But the thing is out of those arguments a good result emerges. So I always say arguments are good, but arguments should never move into insults that doesn’t serve any purpose. Secondly arguments should occur between people who respect each other, because only if you respect each other will that argument lead to a better result at the end.
Q: How tough or scary was it to leave your 14 year old career in finance and move to writing? A: Look I am a risk-averse banker so I didn’t jump blind. I wrote my first two books along with my job, I only resigned when I realized, Okay I can make my Q: You have once thanked your editor for living out of this!! So in that sense it wasn’t too scary. making your “rather pedestrian English vastly better”, how much say does an editor Q: What was the biggest challenge you faced? have in what you actually write? A: Getting the book published. The first book was A: (Laughs heartily) With someone like me, very rejected by every publisher it was sent to, because little. I am a very stubborn guy. Look an editor’s job they said ‘ki bhai religious book will not sell! They is to polish what the author has written and bring said that the youth aren’t interested in religion!’ So out the author’s voice in a clearer manner, if you that was the biggest challenge when there was no have a good relation then it’s certainly possible. publisher willing to back a book like this. Q: Have there been any radical opposition to Q: How difficult was it then to get your book your books from religious fanatics? A: None at all. Why should there be? I think it’s published? A: Finally I self-published. My long suffering agent, very obvious to anyone who reads my books that who had all the publishers slamming the door on his I am a very devoted Shiva worshipper and that I face, agreed to invest in the printing and I invested have written it with a lot of love and respect. Now in the marketing and that’s how we launched the is it a different interpretation, Yes! But am I doing book. So I always tell people that if others don’t anything new by doing this? No! In India we have had a rich tradition of different interpretations of back you, to hell with it, you back yourself !! myth for thousands of years. I always say I am not Q: Could you tell us a little about the being less Indian but more Indian; by coming out relationship between an author and an with my own interpretation. editor? A: It’s almost like the relationship of siblings, Q: What do you think is the biggest challenge
that Indian authors face? A: The scale of the publishing industry in India. It’s a very small scale industry in India, its growing now thankfully! But because it’s really small scale they don’t really have professional systems, professional marketing. Most of the staff in publishing companies tends to be very low paid employees, so you don’t get the best talent unlike in banking or FMCG. Once they become bigger, everything will improve. Q: What advice would you give to aspiring authors? A: I would give a suggestion; advice is like a very condescending approach to things. Write from the honesty of your heart. Don’t do market research and write. Don’t try to write a book that you think will be successful or a book which you think critiques will like, because then you are corrupting your book. Your book should be only about your heart, what feels right to you. Some people may like it some may not that doesn’t matter, be true to yourself ! Karmanye vadhika raste, Ma phaleshu kadachana. It is told to us in the Gita, do your own karma, be detached from the result, be detached from what others think, that doesn’t matter, you should be bothered about your own opinion of yourself. If you respect yourself that is good enough, doesn’t matter what others think.
Geography by Diana Eck, who is a professor of comparative religion at Harvard. When you read the book you will agree with me that she must have been an Indian in her previous birth, because she writes with more passion about India than I have seen many Indians write! I read a book called End of Faith by Sam Harris, it’s actually a book on atheism which might surprise you that I liked the book, the way I see it is ‘Boss the definition of liberalism is you should listen to opposing points of view! You shouldn’t be a nutcase who says you don’t agree with me then I will not listen to you’. Always be willing to listen to a different point of view. Currently I am reading a book called Land of the Seven Rivers by Sanjeev Sanyal, brilliant author, brilliant author!! I am also reading Mawlana Rumi’s Conradin. There are very few people who can change your life with four lines, Rumi was one of them. Q: Do you consider yourself as a story-teller or as an author? A: I consider myself as a Shiva worshipper, everything else is incidental.
Q: What message would you want to leave our readers with? A: I hope you like my books, and I hope you like the third book. I hope I can give you a sense of completion with the concluding book of the Shiva Q: Who is your favourite author? A: I am a voracious reader, so my favourite list keeps trilogy. expanding! So how I usually answer this question is off the books that I have read in the last five-six -Kartik Krishnan months or the recent past, what are the books that UG 3rd year I have liked. I liked a book called India: A Sacred
Featured Designer Montserrat Llaurado
montserratllaurado.com Montserrat Llaurado is a Creative Director with more than 14 years of international experience. Driven by her curiosity and instinct to make ideas happen, she has worked in Austria, Germany, Spain and the US. She is currently based in San Francisco, California.
Empathy Black tea spilled on her lap, her emerald eyes met mine. I was killed that day. She looked as beautiful as a painting on a blood stained wall, I was content.
Earlier that day. I opened my eyes to a bleak and worn out ceiling, a flimsy fan rotating at a miser’s pace. The day was fresh and young and I was ready for the job. My name was... irrelevant, after all names are merely tags given to us by two seemingly random adults at that point who may have fancied the sound of a name or because it once was the name of a great person or perhaps a loved uncle. Some people give names which mean things in certain exotic languages, I wish I had one of those. One hour, fifteen minutes and five seconds later I walk out the door of the building where I slept and proceed towards the snow filled streets and my mind wanders. I hate it when it does that on the job, I see a young boy wearing an old sweater which was a few sizes bigger than his own. Perhaps his father’s? Physically fit men were called to serve their nation during the war and maybe that boy’s father could have been a normal footman or a war hero or a silent patriot. I could never know. Snow fell gently on my face, the cold brought me back to the streets and away from a picture of a war ravaged land with fathers dying without sweaters. I walked sternly and used precisely measured steps making my way towards the address which I had been given to memorize, I was a precise man. Each footstep was conscious and each breath was measured, deep and rejuvenating; I was trained well to perform in cold environments.
I felt the dagger hidden in the crevices of my coat, like a poisonous snake patiently waiting to sink it’s venomous fangs deep into soft flesh. My heart raced, they could train every part of me except my heart. The hotel where I needed to be was arriving around the corner, was I ready? Blood rushed to my head and the adrenaline started it’s ascent into my body, filling me with a vigor which I would use to perform such a vile act. I enter the lobby and gasp in awe, the ceiling was adorned with crystal chandeliers reflecting and refracting light akin to diamonds studded on a wispy cloud and then I see her. She sipped her tea softly and her gaze floated lazily towards the surroundings, sitting in a corner of the lobby perhaps waiting for her husband or lover. I was given a picture and a note with an address and time to perform the job, if I failed or attempted to flee I would be shot sometime in the next few days. There was no escape with the reach of the people I worked for, my greed was the downfall of my judgment. I wondered if I could ever be with these people, dine with them and laugh at their jokes which I never understood. I licked my lips; salty with a dash of fear. I had forty seconds to slit this woman’s throat and run out of the lobby. The door was 18 meters away from her and the rush for the train besides the hotel ensured I could shrug off any pursuers attempting to catch me. My face was bearded and covered with a large fur cap so as to remain incognito during the underground time which I would spend to let my pursuers
reduce the heat. My shoes were caked with salt to prevent slipping on the snowy pavements and my fists primed to fend off anyone trying to hold me back.
cutting through the warm air above her head and missing her by half an inch.
Thirty nine. I started walking towards her, precision was the key. My gloved hand reaches inside the coat and grips the dagger’s hard handle unsheathing it from its warm nest.
The force of the swing staggers me, I trip on the edge of the carpet elevation and fall on the table, knocking it down along with teacups and a kettle of black tea. Her emerald eyes meet mine and before I know it large burly hands grip me. Her company had arrived.
Thirty four.
Twenty.
I slowly and cautiously walk towards her gently navigating through the masses of people chatting and laughing, clinking their glasses of vodka mixed with juniper berry extract.
The man whips out his silver revolver and without hesitation pumps two bullets into my heart, the blood splatters the wall. I was surprised it was red, they said it would be black with the filth I had in me. Her face looked so beautiful.
Twenty nine. I stood beside her and all the muscles in my body tense up, ready to commit themselves to whatever my brain signals them to.
Twenty five.
Eighteen. My eyes closed, I was content.
Twenty eight. I swiftly swing the knife aiming for her throat. She accidently drops her black tea onto her lap and bends her head down in shock, the dagger
Caught on Camera!
-Anuj Prajapati UG 3rd Year
Dadi Pudumjee
Ph ot oC
re d
its :
Ra vi
Va z
ira ni
Q. A very warm welcome to you here at MITID, you’ve had a fantastic journey so far. You shifted gears from Graphic Design to Puppetry, how did your journey in puppetry begin? The journey began from this very city, Pune. I had a gift of two string puppets in my childhood, which I carried with me, from Manny’s, one of the best book shops in India then. They often used to get books on puppetry and craft. It was a lot of self-learning through those books. School encouraged something called the Scratch Concert, where everybody had to get on the stage and perform. There were the Poona Women’s Council Charity shows too, and then one thing led to another. I went to NID, Ahmedabad in 1971. I was a part of the puppet section of Darpana Academy of performing Arts, on the evening when it became more formalized. Then there was no looking back.
is a leading puppeteer in India and the founder of The Ishara Puppet Theatre Trust. He was awarded the Sangeet Natak Akademi Award in 1992. His university education was in Pune later at the NID National Institute of Design and Darpana Academy of Performing Arts in Ahmedabad under late Meher Contractor, after which he went to the Marionette Theatre Institute in Stockholm, Sweden, and studied puppetry under Michael Meschke.
foundation like colour, form, material and workshop exercises; they stay with you right through. It helps me with my work even today. The exposure I got from going to NID, staying away from home opened a whole world which I would have never experienced. That is very important for a young person to learn to see new things and be exposed to.
Q. You started your career in 1976. How has puppetry evolved in India since then and how is it now? It has definitely evolved and could and rather should be better. India already has a strong rooted traditional puppet theatre. There are many puppeteer families in Rajasthan, West Bengal, Orissa, Maharashtra etc. Unfortunately, most of them are languishing because of change in space and time, the medium, the messages and the audience. New mediums like film and television have made art easily accessible but it can never create a live performance impact.
Q. How do you implement your Graphic Design learning in the work you are doing? Q. How can we solve this?
I think it grows with you. The things you learn in See the puppeteers have to step up their game and
build up their audience. You just can’t blame the new media. Plus, most traditional folk art forms are changing and are being appropriated. The younger generation wants change, but face a dilemma of what is tradition? What is modern? If they try something new, are they destroying tradition? To keep it alive, it has to evolve. If you stop it, it’ll become a museum piece. Sometimes, trying new things might end up being a kitsch but it’s a process. It needs exposure through workshops and seminars.
Marionnette International Puppetry Association). There was a world congress with a big festival and different participating countries in Dresden, Germany. It was maybe for the first time that a contemporary puppetry theatre group had participated. It was from Sri Ram Centre for Art and Culture, Delhi. The performance was of “DholaMaru”, a traditional story, but the presentation was with large masks, puppets and actors. Up to then and even today, to a large extent, it has been a traditional and a very safe art that is always going out. This per-
Q. What is your Design Process when you are formance, however, was different and we got a standing ovation. Both my teachers were there, coming up with a new act or a concept?
the late Meher Contractor from Darpana Academy There are two things in this, a non-commissioned and Michael Meschke from the Marionette Theatre piece you create for yourself, for your own festival or Institute. That was special for me. (smiles) production and the other is a commissioned piece. When you have a commissioned piece it’s not always Q. How does it feel here? What do we do to what you like to do but then you have to make this bring you back? connection; how do you make it interesting? What could you put into it? How do you make the inter- Feels good, feels fresh and bright, walking through pretation and convince the client? All these skills are the studios. Its young, new and with a lot of poteninvolved. The other one represents the freedom to tial. You’re here and you’re bringing ideas and peocreate for yourself and that comes from a theme, ple (Dhimant sir laughs) and that takes it forward. a piece of music or poem I like. I prefer to attach And I would love to come here, conduct workshops it with a subtle message and not hammer it down. and try to involve all the disciplines on a single plat-
Q.What has been the most memorable moment of your Career? I think one of the most interesting moments of my career is of UNIMA (Union Internationale de la
Featured Designer Raymond Loewy Raymond Loewy (November 5, 1893 – July 14, 1986) was an industrial designer who achieved fame for the magnitude of his design efforts across a variety of industries.
form and make an effective performance piece.
-Bhakti Shah UG 3rd year
S
melly lanes, hanging clothes leaking down ancient balconies, beefy men with an ogling tendency, slimy pools of spit and paan staining the dented footpaths. A visual, olfactory overload hit me, as I stood taking in Budhwar Peth. When I say Budhwar Peth, I don’t mean the electronics or stationery hub of the city. I’m talking about exactly what Budhwar Peth makes anyone even mildly in the know think of. Yes, the notorious Red Light area. “I’m happy about your cause, but does it HAVE to be this?” was my mother’s concern when I told her I would be coming here for the next three weeks. I wondered myself. There are organizations dealing with children, cleanliness, education, nature, HIVAIDS and so on. But why was I so hell bent on Saheli that dealt with prostitution? Was it curiosity? Fascination? An attraction for this enigma of a world only whispered about?
Illustration: Swaroopa Sanap
ke peeche kya hai?
group of youngsters passed by, looked at them, at each other and exchanged a smirk. I rolled my eyes and set off towards the office. The magnitude of what I had gotten into set in, sparking excitement and unease. Saheli HIVAIDS Karyakarta Sangha is a CBO (Community Based Organization). A CBO is when the community in question works for itself and we volunteers simply assist them. While climbing the stairs, I passed the Community Kitchen that bustled with women and spicy aromas, the Care Home, a day care facility and a tiny library with a mirror. The next floor was the main office. Shelves exploding with stacks of files and papers, Zaroor condom boxes, a rudimentary computer and lots of very visual posters invited me as I settled down expectantly, welcomed by simple, warm covolunteers. We were briefed, told to completely shed any inhibitions and specifically, respect this uncharted territory we were about to enter.
I parked my bike cautiously with muddy feet and tossed a mandatory dupatta around my neck. Right The work was miscellaneous. It ranged from taking across me sat some women wearing bright saris and a woman to the clinic for a variety of things or bank gowns, flowers in their hair and indifferent faces. A transactions (an unforeseen revelation of
my ignorance), helping out with forms and other administrative work or teaching kids how to make a paper boat. This diversity heightened my experience and I ended up learning lots of things (like bank transactions). I once took this woman, Renuka, for sonography. It started out awkwardly, since she hardly knew any Hindi and I’m genuinely ashamed of how my Hindi sounds. My conversing cues had abandoned me and a long walk stretched ahead. We walked silently, nearing a group of giggling women with undersized, pink gowns accosting aloof-looking men. It felt like a movie. Subconsciously, I quickened my pace, only to look around and see Renuka chattering with these women. I cautiously retraced my steps. Should I look at them? And smile? Or stand a bit apart? Just join in? I didn’t even speak Kannada. Finally, we reached the clinic. All I knew was that she was from Karnataka and had been in the business since nine years. It was only after being the mediator between the doctor’s questions and her answers did a chill run down my spine. Renuka was twenty, with a six year old son and a past of five abortions. Felt like a nasty slap. I recalled stupidly my irritation the last night over making chapatis. It felt so insignificant. Equal time spent on earth and how contrasting a destiny.
urine, gutkha, sweat, alcohol, spirit and any other nausea inducing smell possible. Patients with a chopped limb or a twisted foot or a partially smashed skull lay writhing on dirty, stained beds. Blood covered cotton balls flew around like dandelions, only the meadow here resembled a battlefield. The doctor called his interns “interns” while wheeled beds with shrunken old women were tossed in and out of elevators. We rushed around getting the woman’s tests done and convincing the doctor to admit her only to be told at the end of four traumatic hours that she was probably just pregnant and had been lying the whole time. The only thing that stopped me from smashing a skull then was that I’d already seen one. In this exasperating moment I wondered, if at times, we were spoon feeding these women. I looked around at the people who came here, mostly illiterate, confused but they found a way, right? Did these women really need us volunteers to hold their hand and take them everywhere? What stopped their want for independence? Or was that a completely alien idea for them, considering most of them have never left their brothel? We requested the woman’s companion to go collect the reports if we told her where and how but she vehemently rejected the idea which shocked me momentarily. I don’t know if one can blame them for this fear of being in the public. They live a life behind the curtains and it must be daunting to suddenly shed them off and run into the light. In fact, when we went right inside the brothels on field visits, most women wished they could change their address for ration cards.
Thinking of such incidents triggers a part of me that relishes talking about “those Saheli days”. We were once to admit a woman to Sassoon Hospital for some appendicitis issues. Little did we know that we were unsuspectingly entering a nightmare; in the superlative. My first impression of Sassoon was of a railway station with railways replaced by ambulances and stretchers. The gigantic digital clock, huge cylindrical pillars, sleeping people Like anyone else, these women yearn for social scattered across the floor and a strong stench of approval and equality. They know and have
accepted what is thought about them, but it is we who fuel the stigmatization. So many people became uneasy when I told them where I worked. A girl I know started crying when we were simply walking in the Budhwar peth area, not remotely close to the lanes. People cringe at the thought of walking through “the area”; parents advice their children to take alternate routes. It’s like a mental void, flourishing but never spoken about. It also is some women (most of them, breathtakingly beautiful) making a living. The brothels usually house their families and every day, the women go downstairs for work. They are proud mothers and often support a drunkard partner. They invite you warmly into their tiny homes for tea and show you their daughter’s school work. They sit together watching TV and wisecrack-ing. They try to talk to you in broken
English and share wafers. They remember you the next time you come and grin from their perch at the brothel door. They also sometimes, meet a man, fall in love, pay out all debts to the Madam with his help and shift into a new flat and sometimes a new city to start afresh (I met two such cases. It was magical). Saheli doesn’t promise a rescue from the grim world they live in. It’s dark, dreary and almost completely deprived of hope. Saheli polishes this hope, brings it to a shine, lights up the shadows and then makes sure it lingers. It’s as simple as that. I thank this wonderful place for letting me be a part of it and drastically increasing my appreciation for pretty much, everything.
-Swaroopa Sanap UG 3rd Year.
illustration
A whale sneezed out a whale
-Tanya Gijy UG Sem 5
In pursuit of never ending inspiration Like the elders say – ‘In nature, everything Though could it be possible to think of our world around us has a spirit. And it is, to evolve.’ as we know it, as connected and responsive? In The fourth year students of product design had an interesting two day workshop with Max Babi. As living- beings, part of the very nature we study and try to get inspired from, we all found new ways of looking at the world around us, both within the realm of nature and without. It might be interesting to realise, how there is place for only ‘perfect’ (contextual) solutions in nature, as the non-perfect ones die a natural death in evolutionary cycle, leaving us with million-of-years’ tried and tested – fool proof - solutions. Perhaps the human world is the only place where bad solutions (still make their way into production and) continue to exist. Humans are learning, and it’s this pursuit of knowledge and understanding that makes thinking brain look to nature for inspiration. In the toddler phase (in our evolutionary timeline) that we’re yet to arrive in, mimicking perhaps is the best way of learning things in the beginning. After all mimicking is how a baby grows up to learn how to brush, have a bath and ultimately – make sense of the world. Perhaps then it would be justified if we mimicked nature to make sense of the universe, which is so far removed and bigger from the little world we have created for ourselves. Nature, in its entirety is intuitive. There is a connection between the living organism and the elements that make up its surroundings, and life seems to exist in some kind of absorbed synchrony. Juxtapose that with our world, where we’re surrounded by dead products (as famously called ‘dead ducks’ by Jain sir), which exist in a different disconnected space. Though humans seem to afford inter-personal connection, the connection is absent when it comes to our world and its elements (which we’ve created for ourselves). Could this – the disconnect with our world –be one of the factors that makes us the colossally damaging species that we are?
a different universe, Munehiko Sato and Ivan Poupyrev at Disney research, experimented with the very same idea - of an interactive and responsive world. According to their paper – ‘Touché is a novel capacitive touch sensing technology that provides rich touch and gesture sensitivity to analogue and digital objects.... Sensing with Touché is not limited to inanimate objects – the user’s body can also be made touch and gesture sensitive. It makes it very easy to add interactivity to unusual, nonsolid objects and materials, such as a body of water. We can recognize when users touch the water’s surface or dip their fingers into it i.e. not only can we determine that a touch event occurred, we can also determine how it occurred.
To see the world around us as a connected space where the doorknobs know your touch and the water fountains sense when you pass them by, I can’t help but think that it’s our innocent attempt at mimicking nature. After all, we’ve been here only seconds compared to existence of life on earth, though our disconnect has already caused enough trouble. To be connected – with people and elements around us – that’s how harmony is achieved - within our society, and world. If we could see the bigger picture, we’d realise all harm, be on interpersonal level or inter- national, is a product of disconnect between people and ideas. And to think of disconnect with nature, by the destruction and disharmony we cause on this planet, if we were to draw analogies between earth and human body, it’d be interesting to think that the human species could very well be thought of as the metaphorical tumour on the face of this earth. Just like the white blood cells which multiply to protect the body from disease, only to form tumour and destroy it, humans - not unlike the white blood cells of tumour – are set firm on the path of being the very cause of the death of the planet that gave them life.
-Palak Dudani UG 4th year
‘Tell me again how it happened’, said the doctor applying ointment to the little girl’s bruised knee. ‘I was riding, when the cycle wheel got stuck in a pothole’, repeated the girl for the second time that day. ‘I was fortunate, but he was run over by a car.’ After finishing with the girl he turned his attention to the motionless patient on the operating table. It was his first operation. With an arm outstretched, he said, ‘Cotton!’ On receiving cotton he swiftly closed the wound. ‘Thank you!’ said the gleeful girl as she took her teddy from her father. - Kartik Krishnan UG 3rd year
Hive is accepting For next month’s issue, we are waiting for you guys to submit illustrations, reviews, write ups and gossips about anything and eveything that’s relevant to MIT-ID (or not). Mail in your entries to : hive.mit@gmail.com Follow Hive on facebook For old issues go to hivearchive.blogspot.in
Onam
Mex Talk
16th September brought about a bounty of beautiful girls dressed in the traditional Onam attire of the cream and gold sari. The various aspects of Onam were explained along with a beautiful performance of their traditional dance. And I’m sure everyone used the boat for photos and swung on the swing!
Secret Santa Santa in September? It may be a little confusing. Well, Secret Santa will soon bring in lots of gifts, by you and for you.
If the aroma of salsa from the 3rd floor had enticed you, you should know this was the conclusion of a 2 week stay of Prof. Jorge and his two students Miegel (Mike) and Laura. Their stay here included a study of our cultures and an observation of the similarities between the two. The UG Sem 3 students had a workshop with them which expounded on the perception of death in both the countries. Also they designed a seating arrangement near the tuck shop!
Navratri
Sparkle and shimmer of mirrors with a twirl of colours is on the way with the arrival of Navratri. 3 days of celebration ensues in our college with the Gujarati beats thrumming out on our lawn. And if you don’t know garba, don’t worry, practice sessions are underway!
Ganesh Chaturthi Ganesha Chaturthi: Did the late night drum beats make you dance on your feet? That was the advent of Ganapati Bappa for Ganesh Chaturthi! Our foyer was enriched with the festive mood with the aarti and the Prasad. The festival lit up the place for five full days till the much danced about visarjan. Ganpati Bappa Morya!
Current Affairs
R.I.P Canteen (2008-2013) It was a day of grief for our stomachs when you, with your steel vessels, wooden tables and milk packets, were suddenly just an empty room. No longer will there be a quick cold bournvita to cure a late night or mango milkshakes to quench a summery burning thirst. No one will complain about the mysore dosa actually being stuffed with schezwan and no one will raise eyebrows if you pay them with their own éclairs as change. Pins and screwdrivers will stay in the workshop and not float in the coffee. The occasional wave through the window will now be met by a dusty carpenter.
The clangs and sizzles of a busy kitchen have been drowned out by ruthless drill machines. The mouthfuls of laughter haunt the third floor’s silent corridors. No more heated exchanges at the counter and a grinning menu board to greet hungry faces on a too-sunny-to-walk-to-the-mess day. “Bhaiyya please thoda extra chocolate” is now obsolete. We still, sometimes, wonder about the canteen menu. Our feet still, sometimes, step towards you for a chai on a rainy day. We also still count your door as the key poster spot. Our hair still holds traces of your fragrance. For us, you are always alive. Photo Credits: Aditya Tambe
Obituary: Swaroopa Sanap, UG 3rd year News by: Neha Mistry, PG 2nd year
Photograph of the Month
Photo by: Abhishek Soni UG 4th year