Let The Good Times Roll | January 2012 by Sahil Mehta

Of reminiscence and revolutions...

Editorial

Dear readers, It’s been a while. But we’re back after a three month hiatus. And while I deeply regret the discontinuity, I do not apologize about it. The challenges of life are many. Now down to business. This is the first issue of the new year, and it was imperative for us to start well. Last year, we took a very forward looking approach wherein we looked at everything from new year resolutions to things to do to have a good year ahead. This year we do something different. This year we take a look back and remember and acknowledge the past year. TIME magazine declared The Protester as their Person of the Year. While I do not presume to be smarter than the editors there, I would take the liberty of changing it to the year of The Free Man or Common Man. I do this because protests happen everywhere, every day, every year. People protest about many things. Take India as an example, we protest everything under the sky. We even protest against protests. But this year was different. I cannot think of any year in modern history where so many people - ordinary and famous, rich and poor – came together to demand their civil liberties. It is not becoming of me to glorify one struggle over another, but certainly The Arab Spring revolution will change history forever. I do not know if the world will end in 2012. But I do know that 2011 marked the beginning of an end. The end of an old order. The poor and oppressed are up in arms. It is time for change. On a brighter note, we’ve also brought to you in this issue a mini-theme “Childhood Memories”. We do hope these shall take you back to the carefree days of your infancy and you shall enjoy these. Finally, I wish you all, rather belatedly, a very happy new year. May it give you all you wish for. Cheers Sahil Mehta

Front and back cover design by Sahil Mehta. Photograph on Editorial page by Vishakha Jindal

4 LTGTR Jan â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;12

1. Date a Boy, who loves music Shaonli Nath 2. Stay alive with a pearl shine in your eyes Maumita Bhattacharya 3. The Shruti Box Vasundhara Goyal 4. Life in a Girl's PG Prachi Gupta 5. Gay You ! Anuj Suri 6. Idiotoms Pragyananda Mishra 7. Bollywood Hulla Pragyananda Mishra 8. Teach for India Aradhna Mangla 9. Earned Regrets Harshita Bhatnagar 11. Year in Review CHILDHOOD MEMORIES 12. Finding your roots Sahil Mehta

6 8 9 10 11 12 14 16 17 18 42 43

13. Childhood Clive Pereira 14. Just Kidding Pragyananda Mishra 15. Childhood Recollections Tikuli 16. The Things that mystified us as children Aradhna Mangla 17. To be what you want to be Amrita Paul 18. Playgrounds and Little People Aradhna Mangla 10. Book Reviews Catcher in the Rye Prudhvi Chandra Along the way Bastab Chakraborty 19. Band Interview - Verses

20. Interview - Aman Wilson

21. Credits

49 50 52 53 54 55 56 57

Jan â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;12 LTGTR 5

Photog raph by Subha nkar Pal

Date a Boy Who Loves Music By Shaonli Nath When you are walking down the Brigade road and you come across the little music store near 10 feet high, make sure that you enter it. Give your love for music some precious time out of your busy day. Look around at the posters and the t-shirts. If a guy who stands there admiring a Beatles key-chain and humming Love me do’s harmonica intro is engrossed so much that he doesn’t notice the girl staring at him, then you walk up to him to find out more. If he can hum so well, he would certainly want to hold your hand and love you eight days a week as well. Don’t wait for him to come and talk to you. He will not. His music keeps him happy, his quest to learn more about old bands and find out about the little leftover good music keeps him 6 LTGTR Jan ‘12

busy, and he still holds the first cut pretty deep. Check out his fingertips, and if they look stiff and damaged, ask where you can buy a capo since you broke your last one. He will not ignore a girl who knows what a capo is. Or if not, find any other way to talk. As he checks out the John Bonham poster, ask him about his favorite song of Led Zeppelin. If the answer is not Stairway to Heaven, talk to him about Yardbirds. Ask if he watched Across the Universe. And I’m not there. Discuss Nico. The chauvinist for sure will call her a trash promoted unnecessarily by Lou Reed. The one whom you are looking for will sigh over those silky androgynous vocals. Ask him if he likes Pussy Cat Dolls. If he admits liking their videos but hating the music, you know the man in front of you is, for the least, honest. Don’t

Pho tograph by V i jay N araya n

expect him to ask you out. His music keeps him happy, and he is glad for having found a friend who thinks that good music is dead, except a few Bluegrass bands. Practice Layla and then sing it to him. He might find it a bit comical to be addressed as Layla but he might as well just play Wonderful Tonight back for you and ease your worried mind.

will only have sweet things to remember and cherish about this original vagabond. Flick his T-shirts. He has the largest collection of T-shirts in the world and it won’t harm if you steal a Marley or two. He probably might not want to part with the recent ones, especially the ones which are not made in Thailand, so you can easily flick the old oversized Linkin Park from his schooldays. Or the Nirvana one in which you first saw him. And then surprise him with an Abbey Road bed sheet, custom made, so that he just doesn’t wear the Beatles, he sleeps in them too.

Find the guy who starts his day by karaoking to The Kinks while shaving. You don’t have to exactly be Lola, but if you just walk around the house dressed like one and drink Champagne like Coca Cola, every morning will be a good morning. Go to Hard Rock Café, settle down at the bar And later in the evening both of you can spend itself and order a pitcher. Sing the good songs hours interpreting the metaphorical Doors together, boo the DJ for the hip hop that he or just do a critical analysis of American Pie. plays, and irritate him till he plays your favorite Both of you might not have a clear consensus Ozzy. Order the giant 10 oz burger and skim it over the use of the word “Jester”, but a ten up whole from the plate. This man will not want minute long song can surely be used as good you to conform to the women he sees around background music. in the club in fitted dresses. He knows that not Date a guy whom you can take to Crossword many of them will understand much when the and buy a collector’s edition of Bob Dylan. guitarist of the live band gets one note wrong. Choosing birthday gifts for such a lover He notices your eyes unconsciously flinching becomes a lot easier when all you have to do when that one note goes wrong, and he finds is get something which he loves. And he loves that the prettiest flinch in the world. He adores music the most. Though he already has every his burger loving, beer guzzling imperfect girl song of Dylan downloaded on his computer, wearing stonewashed jeans, oversized t-shirt yet having a collector’s CD will make him giggle and fake purple Puma slippers. He will stand like a little child. You might realize that you are behind you and both of you can do the YMCA his Joan Baez only for a while around, but years together. And then have another couple of later when you sing Diamonds and Rust, you pitchers. Jan ‘12 LTGTR 7

If he tussles around in the bed in night, for his future worries him, don’t try talking him out. A man who knows his music surely knows his priorities and ambitions well too, and no woman can help him with that. Put your expensive android to some use, go to spotify, and play Bridge over troubled waters. He will probably not talk to you, but when he sees your eyes, he knows it’s you singing through the voice of Paul Simon. Kiss his brows and let the sound of silence take over. When both of you sit and star gaze in the winters, whisper the first few lines of Yellow into his ears. At first, he will smirk at the cheesiness of it all but then he will join you in singing by the time the word yellow comes.

night in the forest. Date a boy who is a freebird, for he will let you be one too. The lyrics of the songs he has grown up with has given him much insight into how life is and he knows how not to take things hard, and he knows it when things are not right. It will be easier to part and when the biting moment arrives you can sing Angie to him and he will know it’s time to let go. Second cuts are not that deep anyway. Date a guy who loves music. Or better, date someone who makes it. .....................................................................

Recently after reading a blog-article about a boy wanting to date a girl who reads, I brainstormed And when he is away, and it gets tough for both over the one thing which will make it for me. of you, call him up drunk, and sing Leaving on a And nothing crossed my mind except music. A Jetplane to him. Dutch courage might knock off friend once told me that the reason why I sing your vocals a bit, but emotions will just carry and hum all the time despite having such a over fine with all the malt working. While he pathetic voice is because music is one of the might be tired after a hard day and not exactly very few things I am truly passionate about. think that you are Annie, later in the night when Enjoy reading and basking in the warmth of he goes to bed, you will fill up his senses like a love that you already have, had, or deserve. ..........................................................................................................................................................................

Stay Alive with a Pearl Shine in your Eyes By Maumita Bhattacharya http://justmaumita.blogspot.com Why can’t people just be happy all the time!!! I know that’s a real stupid question but just ask yourself once that who are the most elated people in the world - KIDS, BABIES! But why? It’s because they just keep on doing their own work, don’t bother at all what’s going on around, they just enjoy themselves. I read somewhere that the best way to be happy is to have a SHORT TERM MEMORY and GREAT SENSE OF HUMOR. I really liked it, just ask yourself why do some people just keep on thinking on some topic which they can’t solve and if they can (as every problem has solution) then why can’t they just solve it. 8 LTGTR Jan ‘12

I mean ok, LIFE is not always fair but so what... nothing is PERMANENT here too. I literally believe in action rather than words or thoughts. I know you must be thinking that it’s easy to write but trust me it’s easier to apply. It all depends on your attitude and how you take it, everybody has problem. EACH and EVERYBODY STRUGGLES, some overcome it and some lead their life to the depths of despair and dismay. Only one thing that makes them different is their ATTITUDE. It’s YOU, only you who can CHOOSE to be HAPPY or to be DESPAIR. Believe me, LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL, LIVE it! You should be happy that you are blessed with THIS LIFE, CHOOSE your decisions wisely with a SMILE. Live Exuberantly!! :)

the Shruti

Box

named Shankar (a Hindu mythological name) who fuses Indian music with jazz should happen MANIT, Bhopal to be a firangi desi rang me. It mesmerizes me to Here I am on a cold winter after noon, thinking think someone linguistically alien, should share about some of the interesting encounters of the same platform as the legendary artists Zakir 2011. The ShrutiBox, an online music album, Hussein and Hariprasad Chaurasia. didn’t make breaking news but it flashed on the If you think there cannot be anything as Facebook feed rather expeditiously, that is, until captivating as the Oscar winner AR Rahman’s three weeks back when the “Kolaveri” virus hit anthem from “Slumdog Millionaire”, catch “O the net! The ShrutiBox is a fusion composition Saya (A.R.Rehman cover) ft. Shankar Tucker” by Shankar Tucker, an American clarinettist and on YouTube. music composer. The album was first released Unlike conventionally released compositions, on social media platforms like The Shruti Box is an online YouTube and SoundCloud. going music album. Shankar, Shankar grew up in a musical prodigy, when his Massachusetts. Unlike others career has barely taken flight, of his generation who drifted claims not to make music to the beats of Nirvana, that must sell. A blend of Madonna and Usher, Shankar fresh Carnatic fusion - vocals was drawn towards Indian by the Iyer sisters with the classical music, his ideal being highlight from the melodist’s maestro John McLaughlin clarinet left me in crisis of who is famous for composing adjectives, as I spent half an Indian and Western classical hour repeatedly listening to fusions. Tucker was induced the “Nee Nenaindal” video. towards learning Carnatic Refined and perfected, lilting music after listening to and rising sounds of his clarinet “Remember Shakti”, a unique in his signature style can even composition by McLaughlin (Strings) and beat the pulses of a heart; such is the soul of featuring Zakir Hussain (table), V Selvaganesh his original composition- “Lemongrass”. A treat (percussion) and U Shrinivas (mandolin). to anyone who appreciates classical music is his About Shankar Tucker. While his mastery deft rearrangement of classical Bandish of Raga over the clarinet can’t be doubted....he also Bimpalassi in the vocals of Nirali Kartik’s- “Ja Ja magnificently blends the essence of jazz, pop Re”. and Indian classical music to create seamless This whole article might look a bit aggrandized fusion. I know this sounds a bit melodramatic. and amplified to some who are in the critics’ Most of his videos crossed one million views stage of persona or to the Jagjit Singh or Pundit over the last 6 months, though not all comments Jasraaj fan followers, who are grumpy over the were alluring. Before I started writing this lyrical and pronunciation aberrations in the article, I was under the impression that the videos. If I could understand my culture and guy who sings in “O re piya” video was Shankar musical heritage half as well as Tucker does, I Tucker. The confusion resolved after I Googled would have been in a better position to savour him and found that the one behind the clarinet the taste of his ethnic brew. is actually our protagonist. It all fits, the guy

By Vasundhara Goyal

Jan ‘12 LTGTR 9

Photog raph by Indraj eet Deshmukh

By Prachi Gupta Lady Sriram College, Delhi

Life in a Girl’s PG

everything to your roomies. Nicknaming the other one weirdly, exchanging all kinds of stuff (yes, all sorts of!), teasing by the crush’s name and bitching about the third one in her absence becomes second nature. It creates everlasting memories when you burn the midnight lamp and yet end up scoring almost nothing in the tests next day. And you religiously repeat it the next day too. You always cherish it; sneaking together into aunt’s kitchen secretly and cooking ‘food’ for yourself, no matter how raw, tasteless the maggi, coffee, soup or even halwa is. Excursions throughout the city, grabbing opportunities for free passes to a concert or fair, contributing money to dine in expensive places All what a person has planned, all the wise advice are some of the light moments that make your by “experienced” people gets whitewashed bond stronger. when one meets the roommates. Whether you Staying up till five in the morning or spending are a very introvert person or an open book, it sleepless nights discussing philosophies of is almost certain that you will end up confessing love, separation, marriage in the balcony with A new settlement in a completely alien and liberated place, away from your near ones who had till date gripped you in the warmth of their love and care, has the tendency to leave you motionless for a moment. But then starts the journey (Shaan’s song “tanha dil” in the background) with your mind oblivious to the future. The first few days are passed into accommodating oneself into the room, to squeeze in all your stuff into one cupboard and checking out the market and places around. And then begins a new saga of learning, entertaining, experiencing and most of all ‘living’. The life as a paying guest in someone else’s home is an amazingly different experience altogether.

10 LTGTR Jan ‘12

a coffee mug; ordering ice cream at midnight when one of the roommates suddenly craves for it; slamming away the prank calls that one of the roomies’ receives and sometimes trying it yourself; bursting into laughter about anything and everything; inviting the aunt to curb it, these are some of the fantastic moments of a life as a PG. Of course, it falls short of awesomeness without a nagging b**** as your PG owner who cribs about electricity, cleanliness, water and sometimes about issues that are out of the world (yes, my aunt got offended about not wishing her morning and evening)! Concocting stories about how to irritate the woman and scare her to the core terminates abruptly when the innocent one saves all the new contact numbers into the devil’s list.

before such as arranging for your roommate to go on a date, celebrating birthdays as vodka parties without alerting the aunt, bribing the gatekeeper, and assuring the parents’ of your roomies when she is out without phone. The facet that is most talked about, is living with a bunch of friends who are jealous gossipmongers and create impediments in your work. It becomes a lot worse when you don’t share a good bond with your roommates.

However, a PG accommodation besides giving you a “fully furnished, air conditioned, three meals and well connected” room also provides you an exhilarating, cognitive and refreshing experience and a new improved perspective towards life and people. You tend to take or be redolent about the route that shapes your life Another great part about staying in a PG is that and be more concerned. Or learn to let it be as you do all sorts of acts that you have never done it goes! ..........................................................................................................................................................................

Gay You ! By Anuj Suri

A hooker, he thought, was the answer to all his questions. “But I don’t want to open with Every night in his feebly lit bedroom, he stands a hooker” and this option too, was discounted. naked in front of the mirror, stares at his sexually There’s very little that we know about how confused reflection and feels nothing. He then things figure. It was another night of mindlights a cigarette, tries to masturbate but never boggling meaningless masturbation that took makes it to orgasm and then, dozes the night forever and, out of nowhere, his phone rang. away. He wakes up to the same question every That was probably the first time the metallic pink phone was uneasy to look at. “Pink? What was I day, a question he doesn’t know who to ask. He was open to the idea of being homosexual, thinking?”. He, then gathered what he thought at least till the first time he got a hard-on after were “all things gay” in his room, hoping to find accidentally watching a male friend take a himself somewhere in the heap. He wept that shower. The threat was now real and he feared night, with almost an expressionless face. discovering his true sexual alignment. He hadn’t experienced an orgasm for almost 3 months and believe me, for horny teenage boys, three months is a pretty long time.

Pornography confused him even more. The sight of naked women was still pleasant to the eyes but he could hardly achieve an erection. Fiddling with his naked self every night wasn’t working out very well either.

And that night, in his feebly lit bedroom, standing naked in front of the mirror, he gave his sexually confused reflection the answer “I may be gay but I don’t want to know” and broke the mirror. You’re strangled by your servile hunger Struggling with the odds isn’t really the question Acceptance is only a mirror away Gay you Jan ‘12 LTGTR 11

Photog rap h by Pra shant Mohan

I d i o t o m s By Pragyananda Mishra IIM Kozhikode

often accredited with something ghastly in the a fibrous composition woven manually or by mills aiming at thermally isolating and in preserving the ignominy of exposing the external genitalia to the prying eyes draped around a fleecy, docile four legged animal emanating plaintive whines, which in the local dialect is ‘mother’ ! phew...

By Pragyananda Mishra, who is exasperated battling alarms, deadlines and fighting with the 1st 3 letters of the alphabet along with mathematical suffixes which have encroached his otherwise , reserved- for- the- pulchritude 3) To upset the apple cart nocturnal ruminations .... In here I would like to dissect some of the Afflicting an anxious uneasiness or grief to an commonest phrases, idioms and sayings in my inanimate wooden mobile structure serving way.There would be a semblance of Sheldon, the purpose of transportation laden with an Weaving and some of the grandiloquent in abundant malic acid compound, which has history but believe me this will be entertaining. been the repository of scientific inspirations, that is largely coloured towards the end of the 1) ‘A stitch in time saves 9’ visible spectrum.. A complex embroidery loop in the temporal position of events relative to the annals of 4) Where there is a will there is a way the universe can help you preserve the first If you possess the testament that manages to distribute the necessary wealth and property composite lucky number ... to a highly chosen lot, then you are almost with 2) A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing certitude to extricate from the quagmire of The paradox of observing a carnivorous lupine 12 LTGTR Jan ‘12

delusions a path that leads to your destiny...

albumin and keratin rich casing...

5) A little learning is a dangerous thing

10) Once in a blue moon

A diminutive activation of the grey cells of the cerebrum along with the excitation of the fovea centralis of the eye can only be worthy of being braided as something which may foster a dastardly repercussion towards the flora and fauna, disturbing the phi function and causing cataclysm...

Can google be wrong ? It says this is equivalent to 1.16699016 × 10-8 hertz J 11. Wild goose chase

To use the loco-motor reflex, intense coordination of the cortex and the lumbar support in pursuing a gaggle of harmless 6) Skeletons in the closet waterfowls, provided that the ambience The Greek root for dried body, forming the around resembles the wilderness, untamed outer bulwark of the homo sapiens is to be with resplendent flora and fauna. observed by the cones in the ocular region, and 12. A rolling stone gathers no moss as per necessary chemo-receptors successively is sent to the brain and encountered in the The controversial anthology of pasquinades, present world in a hollow, wooden cubicular lampoons and seemingly worldly thaumaturgy structure serving the purpose of preserving would in most certitude be a failure in collection, preferably for future use a substance bodily garments characterised by a gametophyte-dominant life 7) As you sow so shall you reap cycle bryophyte. Your action of using lumbricals to scatter small 13. A thing of beauty is a joy forever embryonic plants wrapped in a biological sheath in mostly a positively correlated order An object serving the myriad hues of purposes would in with most certainty reflect upon and swashing to multitude philosophies, when the mature harvest that you assimilate for a compared to visually appealing pulchritude lights an eternal flame of contention, jubilation pecuniary purpose.. and gaiety. 8) All That Glitters Is Not Gold 14. Brevity is the soul of wit The myriad sundry which on reception of an ambient amount of a frequency spectrum Being breviloquent, adept with the tenets of oscillates between titillation and umbrage embracing succinctness of the vocal chords giving the rhodopsin of the ocular region a sense in blurting out audible frequencies is the of sparkling glamour is with most certitude, the incorporeal essence of an object’s sentience, negation of being the yellowish transition metal sapience. having 79 protons in its nucleus which has often 15. Every cloud has a silver lining been figured on embellished feminine homo Out of the innumerable liquid droplets or sapiens frozen crystals suspended in the troposphere 9) Don’t Count Your Chickens Until They’re above the surface of a planetary body forming a hatched massive visible mass usually encompassing the It’s absolutely inadvisable to indulge in using spectrum of frequencies, there exists a lustrous your digits and creases doing a process of transition metal, bearing immense tangible arithmetic which deals with assigning a worth in the form of a straight geometrical numerical equivalent to diminutive, succulent parameter bearing negligible dimensions. two legged birds of the non feathered variety ................................................................................... up to a point in space when they have broken the worldly shackles of existence from an

Read more articles like these at www.ltgtr.in Jan ‘12 LTGTR 13

Bollywood Hulla By Pragyananda Mishra IIM Kozhikode

1) No 1 Killed Jessica Worthier title: Femme Pro’fan’ity Weird quotient: The movie defined Justice in a new sense Just‘Fire’ seemed more apt with Rani’s verbal histrionics and Vidya’s relentless acts. Memories: The scene in which an about-to-indulgeRani halts a love maker. Quietus Interruptus J 2) Dhobi Ghaat Worthier title: Fourplay at the not-so-Tinsel town Weird Quotient: Looks like they have deleted some words from the saying “dhobi ka kutta na ghar ka na ghat ka” :) to make it a title Memories: Not much except Aamiresque “Thinking man” posture 3) Saat Khoon Maaf Worthier title: Pyaarabnormal Activity Weird quotient: It was used freely by the free press to highlight budget 2011 :( Memories: Keemat Lal’s (Annu Kapoor) Via agraesque appetite leading to his doom :) 4) Dum Maro Dum Worthier title: Cast, Sting, Dope, Rope Blues Weird Quotient: Did Deepika’s iTem ensure a sequel ? Could have very well included Dev Anand in a scene :( Memories: Goa- “Liqour cheap, women cheaper” promo and the bad man named Biscuta...Lol :) 5) F.A.L.T.U Worthier title: R.O.F.L (the title is open to the sequel) Weird Quotient: It released on Apr 1, Fooly F.A.L.T.U concept :) Memories: Google Chand’s efforts in setting up the university 6) Haunted Worthier title: Bhoot.Rewind.Forward Weird Quotient: The longest rape in history- 75 years. The movie also reaffirmed faith that every ghost is modelled after horcruxes nowadays :) Memories: The vase-blow-act :); prompting a grim rapist on the loose 14 LTGTR Jan ‘12

7) Ready Worthier title: Spoiler Alert Weird quotient: Pants-are new extras, they seem to portray quite a lot of emotions-DhinkaChicka :) Memories: The good old sms flooding with Jawaan Sheela vs Character Dheela.... 8) Shaitan Worthier Title: None, by far the pick of 2011 Weird quotient: Hummers, Accident, Drugs, Deceit and Kal-ki actress Memories: Epic rendition of Khoya Khoya Chand and the peppy Hawa Hawaii. Forceful performances by the entire cast.

and did not do the sexpected needful. Sunny Leone is next and we can expect more/less Memories: The gaping wide mouth in the promos :o 11) Singham Worthier title: Power.Full Weird quotient: The movie was Ajay’s biggest hit ! Apparently Chennai Super Kings have sued the Movie’s posters Memories: The I-got-out-of-a-moving-Scorpiodefying-(mv2/r) act 12) Bodyguard Worthier title: colosSAL-MAN Weird quotient: For a change Salman donned a formal attire for most of the movie. Wonder if Sunny Deol would have been a good choice? Memories: The so called twist in the tail, whats, whys and how the F’s are left for the audience to fathom 13) Ra.One Worthier title: Quit playing games for our heart Weird quotient: How do you expect the not so kids to enjoy this ? Even the kids complained that Arjun Rampal, the emotionless vaudeville was actually a Ra-bot :( Memories: The only thing we are not looking forward to is a sequel named Ra.ttU 14) Rockstar Worthier title: Pal, Lung tod Weird quotient: The movie revolved on the Rockstar’s proclivity to indulge in a kiss and somehow in the end we see that he has fathered. Junglee Jawan, bhak sala Memories: The songs, the million odd facebook obituaries and Ranbir claiming it was his bestest role :P 9) Delhi Belly Worthier title: Heist meets love meets lust meets Boss, D.K Weird quotient: The first movie in which an actor has been brave enough to be a ‘cunning linguist’ quitting the ‘master debater’ role :P Memories: The orange juice wiping solution, the banana peeling via the knife at the table and lots of obsceneties :) 10) Murder2 Worthier title : Layman and Blademaniac Weird quotient: We expected skin, got leather. The movie was weird in a sense that he picked prostitutes

15) Dirty picture Worthier title : Picture this, Dirty Weird quotient: N.D Tiwari, the scandalous octagenarian would have been the perfect oneactor-fitting all against Vidya Baloon...oops Memories: Blousy.Lousy.Arousy.period 16) Don 2 Worthier title: Don’T(wo) Weird Quotient: How could Duggu be that generous? What happened to Don’s Ducati at the end(How did they move from the bridge) ? Isha, Lara who’s next...........:o Memories: The car chase, the clichés, the heist.RIP Jan ‘12 LTGTR 15

By Aradhna Mangla Daulatram College

___Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute experience.___ Placement week is on at college, and we’re all struggling to find the right fit of formal trousers and the correct way to write a CV. When we were young, we always said that “When I grow up, I’ll be this and this and all of this!” It seems that that time has come. We have to choose what we want to be.The Teach for India Fellowship is taking applications and it conducted an interactive information session at our college today. All they asked for us to do, was to SPREAD the word to just 5 people we know. I’m gonna make use of my capacity as a writer to do so. Ms. Apoorva Murari of Teach for India (You can reach her at apoorva.murari@teachforindia. org) explained a lot about Educational Inequity in India, a phrase that sounds bombastic, until you take in the sad meaning of it. We, the college-going, Facebook-ing, BBM-ing (and sometimes studying :D) youth of today, are a part of merely 6% of India’s population that is as educated as we are. 94% of people, never enter college.

underprivileged. Not broken.

The government does have special programs They just haven’t been given the right guidance, in place, to increase school enrollment and to the right skill set. retain children in the educational system. To take an example, where would you be if you However, one can’t ignore the numbers. (These didn’t know English? numbers were provided by the HRD Ministry You wouldn’t be able to read this article for one. itself!)Somewhere, somehow its all falling short. Neither would you be able to sit for an interview. The reasons are many.Don’t you remember Along with many other drawbacks, another what it was like to be a kid? person wouldn’t call you literate. We hated homework.We hated cursive writing. We loved it when teachers let us play games. These kids study in schools with no libraries, We loved it when we could come to school and or air conditioning.But what hurts the most is that they study in schools with “non-existent” do something fun! teachers. The kids that this movement targets, are I say “Non-existent” because even though some 16 LTGTR Jan ‘12

of them are present in the classroom, they do not “Teach”. Their responsibilities end at coming to class and repeating the spiel they have taught for so long. Isn’t this what makes education boring? Don’t we hate the endless cramming of words that make no sense to us?

Imagine why a child of 6 might want to drop out of school then. You kill imagination, and you kill the child. By being a Fellow here, you are in charge of not only teaching the child the required curriculum, but also of shaping the child to understand “why” he needs to continue on the path shown to him. When you show a person a glimpse of what can be, it registers somewhere in their consciousness. The Program has a 2 year lock-in. Its a full-time commitment, that can’t be taken lightly. It provides a decent stipend of 16000 per month, along with a house-rent allowance. Most of the fellows have had 8 figure salaries, cushy jobs etc etc. Many of them have been just graduates. Many of them had no reason to apply here. Be brave, take risks. Nothing can substitute this experience. A lot many people see the inequity as a PROBLEM, of which they strive to find a SOLUTION. You too can aid in the effort. 320 million children are waiting for you. ...................................................................................

Earned Regrets By Harshita Bhatnagar | Symbiosis Law School, Pune

I lie awake late at night Gazing at the heartless stars Shining in glory, far away From realization of the earth’s pain. I pass them a silent curse And walk inside to dream. The sun knocked at my window And stung in my eye, I push up the covers leaving it insulted Of having broken my serene dream, And dragging me To the heart-rending reality. I lift my cup of coffee And sipping through it Find it tasteless and devoid Of the sweet flavour of sugar. I dump it and see the crystals Mocking me from the bottom. The calendar fluttered behind me Pink and new and unrecognised And then it dawns on me That I’ve stepped in yet another new year With as many suns and stars and coffee mugs As the year that said farewell. I walk to my desk deciding to pen The memories of the year gone by. But the pen froze my heart and I Choked on all the words that I didn’t have, Of enjoying a starry night Or smilingly basking in the first light. Oh how foolish I had been To not realise the mute spur of the stars And the sun’s silent promise that However long the night, the dawn shall break. And that life doesn’t give up on us. It is sweet but just not stirred well. Jan ‘12 LTGTR 17

There is no way to summarize an entire year. A lot happens in 365 days. To even attempt to enumerate the major events is akin to counting the hair on your head. Over the past year too, much has happened, much has changed and yet a lot remains the same. It is not our place to judge what was important and what not; the future shall bear that burden. What we present to you in the next 20 pages is a list of the most conspicuous and a few unemphatic moments that we believe deserve mention. The list is not exhaustive by any means. As a matter of fact, there are a few events which deserve mention but do not find a place due to various reasons. First and foremost of them will the continuing financial crisis in Europe. There is no way to pinpoint an exact date to when it started nor does a clear solution present itself. Indeed, the entire Euro zone stands upon the brink of collapse even as the world leaders try their very best to prevent it. The resignation of Silvio Berlusconi and appointment of eminent economist Mario Monti as the Italian Prime Minister is perhaps the biggest omission from this list. Our elephant queen, Mayawati, too is a noticeable absentee from our list. She has ensured she stays in public eye but neither her 656cr park to appease her Dalit vote bank nor her vision of a divided UP seem worthy of mention. Her test shall come in a few months’ time as UP goes to the election. In sports, we confess to a little bias towards cricket and football. Indeed neither Novak Djokovich’s incredible year with three grand slam wins nor Sebastien Vettel’s victory in Formula 1 find mention. As with any year, this year too saw the demise of many a good men and women. We deeply regret not being able to find a place for Anath Pai, the founder of Amar Chitra Katha; for Mario Miranda, a widely loved and respected cartoonist and senior journalist J. Dey, who was murdered by the Mumbai mafia. Inspite of all these omissions, I can be confident in saying that the next 20 pages shall evoke in you many an emotion as you relive 2011 through some iconic and some ironic images. So sit back and enjoy as we take you back to 2011: The Year Of The Common Man. Farewell for now. If the world doesn’t end, I shall see you again next year.

Year in Review

Photograph by Vishakha Jindal

January

Arab Spring begins. The Tunisian government falls after a month of increasingly violent protests; President Zine El Abidine Ben Ali flees to Saudi Arabia after 23 years in power. Inset: Mohamed Bouazizi, a street vendor who set himself on fire. His death is widely regarded to be the catalyst for the Tunisian Revolution

Rajasthan beats Baroda to lift their first ever Ranji Trophy Bharat Ratna Pt. Bhimsen Joshi passes away

MoU worth 450 billion dollars signed in 2 days as Gujarat leads Indiaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s economic growth

20 12

February

Arab Spring continues as Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak resigns after widespread protests calling for

his departure, leaving control of Egypt in the hands of the military until a general election can be held.

March

Japan Tsunami

LIBYAN CIVIL WAR CONTINUES the UN Security Council passed a resolution to impose a no-fly zone in Libyan airspace. on 18 March, Gaddafiâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s government declared an immediate ceasefire, however the battles continued

Saina Nehwal wins Swiss open

20 15

Arab Spring: Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa, King of Bahrain declares a threemonth state of emergency

Census results 2011: Indian Population is declared as 1.21 billion

Castro resigns from the Communist Party central committee

Revered spiritual leader Shri Sathya Sai baba passes away

Royal Wedding. Prince William marries Kate Middleton.

Kanishta Dhankar from haryana is crowned Femina Miss India

Suresh Kalmadi is arrested on charges of forgery. Congress suspends him.

Sachinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s dream Comes true. After 28 years India lifts the World Cup again in front of a capacity crowd at the wankhede stadium in mumbai.

April

Anna Hazare goes on a indefinite fast demanding the introduction of a strong lokpal bill. Government gives into his demands and forms a joint committee. Talks between the two sides fail after a few meetings.

Al-Qaeda leader Osama Bin Laden is declared dead. His body is thrown in the sea.

May

20 28

Mamata Banerjee breaks CPMâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hold in Bengal. Is sworn in as first woman CM of West Bengal

Barcelona thrashes Man Utd 3-1 to lift the champions Trophy Again.

Man Utd lift a record 19th Premier League

Pope John Paul ii is beatified moving him closer to sainthoof

Chennai Super Kings win ipl 2011

Arab Spring: Yemeni President Ali Abdullah Saleh travels to Saudi Arabia for treatment of an injury sustained during an attack on the presidential palace.

The first case is confirmed where radiation levels in humans have exceeded limits since the accident at the Fukushima Daichii plant.

MF Hussain passes away whilst still in exile.

June

Following Baba Ramdevâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s protests against corruption, a panicked govt. ordered the forceful eviction of Ramdev and his followers from Ramlila Maidan at mid-night.

Rocked by the phone hacking scandal, NEWS OF THE WORLD (NOTW) shuts down after 168 years of publication

Norway is rocked by twin attacks

Mass resignation by MPs and MLAs from the telangana region amid huge protests demanding a separate state

South Sudan becomes an independent state

July

Terror reared its ugly head in Mumbai once again as triple blasts rocked it. The blasts took place in Zaveri Bazaar, Opera House and Central Dadar.

Floods in Thaliand. They affected over 12.3 million people and parts of Thailand remained submerged even in December. The World Bank estimates this to be the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s fourth costliest disaster of all time.

August

Anna Hazare renews his campaign for a strong Lokpal. He is arrested and sent to Tihar. Continues fast in jail. the Sikkimese Sniper hangs up his boots

24 22

India is whitewashed 4-0 by England

14 Shammi Kapoor passes away.

Rahul Dravid scores three consecutive 6s in his onlt t20. He also overtakes Ricky Ponting to become the second highest scorer in tests

September

The Occupy Wall Street Protests begin against social and economic inequaltiy. They soon spread to Europe. Their slogan is â&#x20AC;&#x153;We are the 99%â&#x20AC;?

India wins Innaugral Asian Champions Trophy

Nawab of Pataudi passes away.

Floods in Sindh, Pakistan affect 5.3 million people

Earthquake measuring 6.9 rocks sikkim

The Ghazal King, Jagjit Singh leaves us.

12 Dennis Ritchie, Founder Of C language dies.

Icon STEVE JOBS passes away.

Colonel Gaddafi is killed. His body is dragged through the streets.

BS Yedurappa, surrenders in court. Is jailed for 23days.

Aakash, The worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cheapest tablet is launched

Special CBI Court finds evidence to put on trial all 17 accused including Raja on various counts.

Formula 1 finally comes to India in Noida at the Buddh International Circuit.

October

N o v e m b e r

Bhupen Hazarika, the eminent Assamese lyricist, musician, singer, poet and film-maker passes away

After years of speculation, Cyrus Mistry is appointed Ratan Tataâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s successor

The Govt. proposal to introduce FDI in retail triggers widespread protests.

Harvider Singh. A tempo driver slaps Sharad Pawar blaming him for corruption and price rise.

Fire in AMRI hosptial kolkata leaves 91 dead

The Lokpal bill is passed in Lok sabha but fails in Rajya Sabha.

The US formally ends the Iraq war

The Evergreen Dev Sahab passes away

Sehwag hits 219 in an ODI against West Indies

D e c e m b e r

Dividing INDIA

By Abhyudaya Shrivastava http://abhyudayadoses.blogspot.com/

Childhood Memories

2 Photographs by 1. Chakradhar Nemani 2. Vishakha Jindal 3. Akhil Pawar

Photo graph by Vi shak ha J inda l

Finding Your Roots

colleges in India my bosses had been very impressed. They gave me my shot and three years later it was just When my mom called me up on the weekend to tell me about ready. Three years spent working day and night, that they had sold the house and would be moving to meeting deadlines and coordinating things. Just like a new one, it did not immediately register in my head. the week ahead. I explained to mom that it would be I had been gone a long time from home. 8 years now difficult for me to get away and that a lot was riding since I had lived there regularly. These last 8 years were on me. I knew my mom would understand. Moms dotted with a few visits to the “home sweet home”. always understand. They understand better than we Visits that got increasingly shorter as the years went by. do more often than not. They just don’t want to hurt Indeed it had been over 6 months since I had last gone our “educated” and inflated egos by saying the truth. back, back to my hometown. Hence, the news about Anyways understand my mom did. She said she would put my things in boxes and that I could sort things out shifting fired a blank in my head. whenever, no if, I had the time to come home. I told her Mom wanted me to come back the next weekend and to just give away everything rather than carry the extra help with the shifting. Not help really, my parents had load. Always practical! The conversation ended soon got used to my absence - better than I had to theirs’ after with a customary “hello”, “hi”, “how are you” with when I was a child. No, not help! She just wanted me to dad. It wasn’t really that long ago when I used to spend come and get my stuff from my room and throw away hours and hours talking to dad trying to figure out what all the toys and games and clothes that I didn’t need. I was going to do with my life. Now the conversation She said they would help someone else build a new life. ended in just under a minute almost always. Those Always so practical, they had brought me up with such days were behind me. In one week I was going to be values and it had gotten me a long way in life. I told her the talk of the town, on the fast-track to stardom. Dad that I had a busy week in office with loads of deadlines would like that. I went back to work. to meet and would probably be working overtime every day. It was not untrue. We were in the midst That week was a blur of shapes, colors, sounds, of launching a huge product, a product which could tempers & emotions. The product was to be launched very well change the way people lived in the future. It on Wednesday, as all auspicious things in India had been my brainchild and when I first proposed it 3 are. Tension and planning dominated Monday and years ago fresh out of one of the bigger engineering Tuesday. This was the biggest launch for not just me

By Sahil Mehta

Jan ‘12 LTGTR 43

but also my company. It was of a magnitude that if even the slightest thing went wrong, it would leave a 10 feet deep crater in place of the 30 storied building I worked in. My career would be dust not to mention. Wednesday was as frantic, as I spent my time in making arrangements for the guests in the press-conference, making sure that there was enough press-coverage and nervously checking all features of the product to check if everything was working fine. I had two shots of tequila to steady my nerves. It was the first time in over 10 years that I touched alcohol. I had it only once before, with my best friends when I was in school. I hadn’t thought about them in many months. As it was I need not have worried, the launch went off smoothly but that was only half the battle won. I slept that night in the office and so did most of the other staff. Everyone was up by 4 a.m. next morning. All nervously waiting for the paper to come out. And it made an entry worthy of a film star. A loud thud on the main gate which certainly shook up everyone! I remembered how I used to get up early in the morning and get the paper everyday back home when I was a child. Someone opened it, slowly as if opening Pandora ’s Box itself. But like I said I need not have worried. All reviews were good. One paper even went to the extent of saying that we had discovered fire and reinvented the wheel all over again. I don’t remember much of the celebrations that went on all through the morning. It was all chaotic. A few hugs, loads of handshakes, infinite pats on the back; I remember there being a cake and the office looking like a 10 year-olds birthday party venue. But more than that I remember feeling uneasy inside! I remember thinking about what I was going to do next and not feeling glad at that the thought. The rest of the day was spent in preparing reports and all on the launch and on the reviews. It was the last time I would have to do such menial tasks. I was destined for bigger things now. Friday was the official and formal party of success. It was like my debut in the cutthroat, ruthless world of corporate biggies. I was introduced to the high and mighty of society. Never a free moment as I was whisked my one boss or other to explain the technology to the rich and lazy idiots who couldn’t bother reading the newspapers. More than a few gave me advices on how to stay on top. Music, money and alcohol flowed alike as over-made up female colleagues of mine came onto me like I was a magnet. It was everything I had imagined and more when I first started working. Yet it didn’t feel right. I put on a big smile and a few bad jokes which passed well enough in the light atmosphere yet something was missing. My parents called to congratulate me. It was noisy in the hall, so the conversation was short. But I don’t remember them even asking if I was coming home. All they said was that they were proud of me. They were happy for 44 LTGTR Jan ‘12

me and the life I had made for myself here. But I wasn’t happy. Three years of working with a single minded determination for this had made me a workaholic. I knew then that I needed a break. An hour later I found myself at the airport. The benefit of living in the age of jet speed technology is that you can make up your mind very quickly and change it sooner. I was going home, not to the miniscule apartment this crowded city had offered but to the place where I had grown up. As I waited for the flight I pondered on what made me decide to take a plane and go home all of a sudden. It had been a spontaneous and instinctive decision that much was sure. But why? I had trained myself to fight instincts and do the right thing all through college when it made me bunk classes, fall behind in studies and in general feel miserable. I had slowly and slowly trained myself to do the sensible thing and not give in to temptations. Then why all of a sudden had I decided to go home? The responsible thing would have been to go to office tomorrow matter-of-factly and show my bosses that I was still as work-oriented as ever. Now they would feel that success had got to my head. Nevertheless what was done was done. I thought about fighting my instinct again and cancelling the ticket but the thought was hardly a flicker. Something was pulling me back home and I didn’t have the heart to resist. The flight was a late night one. It would reach Jaipur, my hometown at about 1:30 a.m. I hadn’t told my parents that I was coming home. There had hardly been any time to tell them really, it had all happened so quick. Anyways I wanted to keep it a surprise. I did call up my oldest and closest friend. We went back a long time, right back to pre-school days. There was a comfort between us that I never had with anyone else. We had never had any argument over anything, not in living memory. He understood me well, as well as I understood him. I had kept in touch with him all through college but since joining office the calls had become less and less frequent. He was nowhere in my “recent calls” list. I called him up, told him I was coming back; don’t know how long I’ll stay and if he was free sometime maybe we could catch up. He said sure, asked me how the sudden plan and when I was reaching etc. etc. The flight was 2 hours long. I had an economy class ticket, so was hardly comfortable. Sleep eluded me, and I fell into deep thoughts about how I was living today and tried to compare it with the past. I tried to think about what it meant to be selling the house. But it still didn’t really click. Everything was blank. Slowly I tried to draw out the memories that I had of that place. It was a slow flashback and it started backwards. The vacations from college when I spent my time hurrying

P hotograph by Sa hil M ehta

The flight landed just 5 minutes late and I checked out the airport reasonably quickly. No baggage at all. I came out the terminal and was wondering whether to take a taxi or auto when I heard a familiar voice call out my name. My two best friends were waiting for me at the airport at 1:30 in the morning in 5 degree centigrade temperature. Just like the good old days. Nothing had changed them, both were still the same and soon I too was my old self. Gone was the formal tones and fancy vocabulary used in office. It was the same swear words and silly jokes that marked my adolescent years. We were three 25 year olds behaving like 15 year olds. There was so much catching up to do. We didn’t directly go home; we went on a long drive, picked up ice-creams in the middle and chatted like women do in kitty parties. I do not remember what we talked about, it was mostly nonsense as usual. But I remember how much I laughed. I laughed as I hadn’t in many a years. It felt good to be back. At about 5:30 in the morning though I finally succumbed to the call of my house. I

asked my friends to drop me home. I promised to call them in the evening to set something up. I entered my house just as the first light of the sun was breaking through. Everything seemed so familiar. I had struggled to picture it my mind on the flight but now everything came back in a flood of memories. I had come back this late (or early) once before also. That

had been the day of my farewell in school. What had been forgotten for so long now seemed so fresh as if it was yesterday. I bounded up the steps with the same energy as I had when I returned for the first time from college. I rang the bell. It was the same sound I had heard countless no. of times before. The ding-dong melody. It reminded me of the days when I used to stand next to the TV while watching cartoons in the evening. And how I would switch it off and run away whenever the bell rang in anticipation of my dad coming. He hadn’t scolded me for a long time now. My mom opened the door. Her face was a mixture of surprise and joy. It was the same expression which I used to have when I saw mom coming back from work in the evening. She was so surprised that the first thing she asked me was if everything was alright. I touched my mother’s feet. I never used to do it earlier, at least not too much, but today it just seemed right. I joined my parents for tea

Photo graph by S ahil Mehta

meeting relatives, friends and catching up on movies and food; high school and those two years of hell that I went through while preparing for engineering; the years preceding that, which was when I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life; and still earlier playing cricket in the driveway with friends and going out for movies. I remembered my parents and the way I grew up. All the things that me and dad used to do; how we used to corner mom together on various issues; how I used to always ask mom first if I ever needed anything. I wondered how my room would be. Mom always wanted to clean it up and get rid of the posters. She had had her chance to do that in these last 6 months. Time passed quickly in the land of nostalgia.

in the verandah. A tradition that had lasted over 2 decades. It was one the longest morning tea sessions in my life. I talked and talked. I enquired about their health, told them about the product, about my role in it, about my future prospects in the company. They had seen the product launch on TV, but listened anyway. My dad gave me a few suggestions to make it better too. Just like the old days. No matter how hard I tried, I was always a step behind dad. It was better that way anyways. This was all so familiar. The tea winded up at about 11. I went to my room to freshen. All over the house, I could see things being packed. It seemed odd to find things missing in so many places. I entered my room, dreading to find everything gone. It was just as I had left it. The same rickety bed on which I had spent countless hours studying, watching movies on my laptop, sharing jokes with my friends and just daydreaming. The poster of Sourav Ganguly, who I idolized and worshipped as a god right from his debut to his retirement and below it my first cricket bat, covered with dust and looking forlorn. I had outgrown it many years back but I had preserved it. I shared an attachment with it that went Jan ‘12 LTGTR 45

back to my first memories. I had played with it for a long time. It introduced me to my first love and I could never let go of it. You know, every child has dreams. We let go of most of them for more achievable things and call it growing up. But sometimes that one dream remains which you just can’t let go off. This was mine. I had wanted to be a cricketer ever since I could remember. I had loved playing so much. I would forget everything, time, hunger, weather, everything. It was pure bliss for so long. Then I started growing up. I still remember the day when I made the choice to pursue my academics over cricket. It had all gone as I planned, I was successful today, but I could just never let go off that desire. My mom had tried many times, always unsuccessfully, to get rid of that bat. There was no way that I was going to give away that bat. I don’t know if there is a higher power above us or not, but I was suddenly sure that if there was one, he brought me back to save my precious bat. I fell down on the bed and relaxed. Relaxed until the practical me took over and told me get on with it. I started slowly taking out my old stuff, one item at a time. I sorted things into two groups, the ones which I would keep and the ones to throw away. The first few items found their way into the “DISPOSE” group but it was much harder to let go than I had imagined. The past soon caught up with me and the rational me ran off scared. My first fancy dress costume, my pre-school uniform, the tie from farewell with messages from my friends, the photo albums with all my friends and family, my stamp collection, the scrapbook with photos of my favorite cricket stars, the books I had grown up reading, my first computer which was incidentally my second love, everything thing lay in that room. It was all my life scattered on the floor in front of me and I had to choose which parts of my life I would take with me in the future and which I would throw away. How do you do that? How do you prioritize between two memories each as sweet as the other bitter?

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes to hours as I pored through all my material possessions, reliving the memories and experiences associated with each of them. I did not even bother trying to sort them into the two groups. My mom came to ask me for lunch, but when she saw me sitting cross-legged on the floor poring over old photo albums with the entire room in disarray, she left wordlessly. She returned with a plateful of food and kept it on the table. She left me again to my solace. When she returned 3 hours later to check on me, the food tray was still untouched. I spent hours going through the photo albums. They were full of my extended family, full of cousins and uncles and aunts and cousins of uncles and aunts. They had all doted on me when I was young. Now I recognized the faces but struggled to recall the names. Where they were now, how they were now? I had no clue. So many of my cousins would have been married by now. I hadn’t attended more than a couple of marriages in the last 3 years. I was probably an uncle to so many kids now, but unlike my uncles I hardly had time to visit them. All the faces in those albums had taught me something. I had remembered the teachings but forgot the teachers. This was what my life had become. I was an ungrateful and selfish man who did things only for his own good. I knew then I had to change things. I knew then what was missing. I figured out why I felt uneasy. It wasn’t that I was a workaholic. I just didn’t belong there. I belonged in here, in these photo albums. I belonged with my friends, my relatives and mostly my parents. They had all made me the way I was. I may have achieved a lot of success but these were the people who gave me the recipe for success in so many small insignificant ways. And it wasn’t just my family and friends, so many others were there. my driver who drove me to tuition, the domestic help who gave me something delicious to eat whenever I was hungry, the postman who got me the stamps everyday for my stamp collection, my cricket coach, my teachers, the postman who brought my results, the computer repair guy from whom I learnt how to fix my computer, our family doctor who made sure I got better on time, the restaurant waiter who got me my coffee before other people’s orders. And this city, it had given me so many opportunities.

P hotogra ph by Sa hil Mehta

In aiming for the stars I had forgotten where I came from and who I was. But this trip back home helped me rediscover my roots. That abyss about my feeling for my house suddenly disappeared. My house was the foundation upon which my life existed. I had built a lot of memories and stored them in the sub-conscious but all those memories led back to physical things which were housed in this building. Leaving this house would be leaving behind my past. It would be as if most, if not all, of my previous existence would be wiped out. I was in a very pensive mood at dinner that night. My 46 LTGTR Jan ‘12

dad could sense it. It was as if he was feeling the same way. He asked me what was troubling me. I kept quiet for a few seconds and then blurted out “Can’t we keep the house?”. It was a childish plea and I could sense the desperation in my voice. No one answered. No one needed to. I knew the answer even before I posed the question. I felt embarrassed at having lost control. But it was my last ditch effort to find redemption after years of neglecting my home, my friends and my family. It was my way of apologizing to my parents for not being there, over these last few years. That one moment will be one that changed my life the most. In one moment all was forgiven. My mom and dad cheered me up with stories from my past. We would have gone well past midnight had it not been for the fact that the movers were coming in tomorrow. This was our last night in this house. It would be the last of many peaceful sleeps that I had in my bed.

...................................................................................

Pho tograph by Sahi l Mehta

I got up the next morning, Sunday, all set for a new beginning. I knew today what things I wanted to keep and what to dispose off. I picked up all the photos, all the cards, and a few gifts from the people whom I treasured. The rest was all to be given away. The material things didn’t matter. The memories they made were there in my head & the lessons that they had taught firmly in my conscious. All I needed was to make sure that the people associated with those memories were there

in the future. I resolved to do that. The movers came and took away the furniture. I went with dad and gave away all the stuff that we wouldn’t need to charity. It felt good to give. Soon the walls were bare, the rooms empty. Soon it would be time to say goodbye. I met the people moving in. A young working couple and their four year old son. They were both graduates from top B-schools working at top positions in big MNCs. They had recently moved to the city. Their pay allowed them to afford a bungalow and other comforts at such a relatively young age. It all seemed picture perfect until you saw the sadness and loneliness in the eyes of their son. It told the very familiar story of what is our “professional and work oriented” generation. I said my goodbyes to my house and as they walked in I felt as if my past walked out but my future was walking in. A lost man, who did not realize that life had more to offer than just material comforts. That future had to change. With a last symbolic gesture, I took down the nameplate from the main door. The house now bore no signs of us ever having lived there. It was completely empty except for that cricket bat which I had left behind. My past had taught me a most important lesson in life. It was time to let go of it. It was time someone else made new memories with that bat.

Jan ‘12 LTGTR 47

Photog raph by Pra santh A kk i

CHILDHOOD

By Clive Pereira Memories that once were... Childhood: a simple time where you’re toughest challenges are eating all your veggies and getting good grades. At the time it seemed like it was the hardest gig in the world and you could not wait to grow up, but then you did and you began to see the world in a completely different light. Looking back you see that nothing is better that being a child. The innocence, the utter disregard for anything besides you and your toys, food given to you when you want, and pretty much everyone fussing over you. If you haven’t figured it out... yes I was the youngest of the lot. A little pampered I must admit but none the less I think I turned out ok. Your childhood is something you can never get back, no matter how hard you try once you grow up, you grow up. No longer can you imagine the bed sheet on a few chairs to be a castle, no longer is an upside down chair a horse chariot which you use to slay the dragon and save the princess from for the forces of evil. If I must say the most missed aspect about my childhood is neither the toys 48 LTGTR Jan ‘12

nor the extra attention, it would have to be the sense of imagination. At that age every object you see can turn itself into something magical, something extraordinary or something out of this world. The possibilities are limitless and the stories are intricate as ever. Neither physics nor any science can explain them but yet you relished every minute of it. Childhood memories are not without their dull or less sparkly moments. It’s these moments which make the good ones sparkle even more. There are those times where you felt like there was no hope whether it was a bully or a family feud. The important thing to keep in mind is that it’s the good times that shape you, but it’s the bad times that make you. Don’t forget the bad but look back on the good. Every good thing has to come to an end, and your childhood being one of the best was no different. The day it happened was a memorable one, it’s was the day you looked at a bed sheet and all you saw was nothing but a bed sheet. When we look back at all out childhood memories sparkling or otherwise we look back at a time which made us who we are.

Photo graph by C hak radhar Ne mani

J u s t

K i d d i n g

By Pragyananda Mishra IIM Kozhikode

When I was a kid, The honking school bus was my ultimate driving machine, The fear and loathing of Zee horror show made sure that I don’t wake up for a pee, The only time I devoured 3 chapatis was when mom served the left-over mutton curry @dinner, The ideal Sunday was cartoonscomics and cricket, The securest place (where no god-damn-ghost could enter) was sleeping between paa and mom. Subjects like dictation, craft and moral science were somehow a fearful proposition; the only thing that I bothered to wipe my hands and face with after a meal was my mom’s saree. Evening prayer was an effort to battle mosquitoes and keep singing in unison at the same time. To avoid interruption of Rangoli - I kept the toilet door open and did the needful.

elbows seemed to be the infinitely skin rich parts of the body. The birthdays were all about gifts and “whistle blowing”. The PTA meetings always ensured that my lunch was served only when my father came back from work. A very late night sleep meant going to bed at 10:20 PM after being bored by the TV commercials during the Friday DD movie. Superheroes came in dreams and lasted for 8 hours. Bravery was rushing 5 metres into the sea and coming back escaping the waters. Sachin winning the match for India meant a glass of Pepsi at the next meal. Being sick meant sitting on the best chair with mom by my side serving apples and soup, brother tuning Cartoon network and papa saying “okay you won’t go to school tomorrow”. Train travel meant a ruckus as I often ended up holding hands with the wrong parent. Clearing Contra and Mario stages meant pride among friend circles. Ass meant a beast of burden, rubber indicated an eraser and cats and pussies were recited in aplomb in rhymes...........

Big Babol (and big fun!) cards were something Dylan’s-Times they are a changing never was more than merely precious. The only plea/ more true excuse at exams was a loud cry. Knees and

Jan ‘12 LTGTR 49

Pho tograph by A m ri ta Paul

Childhood Recollections By Tikuli “These are the quicksilver moments of my childhood I cannot remember entirely. Irresistible and emblematic, I can recall them only in fragments and shivers of the heart.” Pat Conroy, The Prince of Tides When I was a little girl I had crayons and imagination but today’s performing geniuses only seem to have laptops, Video games, X-box, portable music players, Television and Internet. While I took pride in my collection of pebbles, marbles etc kids today flaunt their gadgets. Six year old Suhas is addicted to his iPad. His life revolves around it. He throws a bizarre tantrum when told to keep it aside and parents give in just to calm him down. Now I am not against technology but I feel that there is a loss of innocence and wonder in today’s children. I asked little Raghav if he read the story book I gave on his Birthday and he sheepishly replied. ” No, it’s too big. I saw the movie on Video.” Similarly, Abha finds it easy to read some recommended story on YouTube in 6 min rather than “wasting” time on a thick book. It broke my heart but that’s the trend these days. Children prefer the immediate gratification. Vaibhav’s life is like a chat room. He has hundreds of friends on the three social networking sites he is member of. Virtual life gives him a kick. I asked him if he would like to visit the science center and some other places on a Sunday, he refused. Reason- He had fixed some poker game challenge on Facebook and had to catch up with his friends. His blackberry continues to beep at all times. “It’s comforting to be connected to those who love you , you see “, he says with a warm smile. I asked him about his family and real-time friends. “They are boring”. Like Pavlov’s dog he runs to his cell every time it beeps. I did not want to go into the details of how technology has dug its talons into our the very core of our being but sitting on the grassy slope on this beautiful winter day I remembered how we precious those simple joys of our childhood are. I watch ten-year old Ria, oblivious to the flowers and birds around her, tugging at her mom’s purse for the mobile to play. I don’t think we can blame the children for getting lured into this tech trap. It is parental responsibility to create a balance. I think life was beautiful when it was simple. I miss so many things I did as a child. Things I long to do but inhibitions stop me. I posed a question on FB today, 50 LTGTR Jan ‘12

At what age does going nude cross the line from joyful to uncomfortable? And, does that age then represent a certain kind of turning point in life, in our relationship to joy? I had read it somewhere and it stayed with me. Speaks volume doesn’t it? Some of the beautiful memories are fairy tales from the backyard where I buried my treasures, the joy of hiding little things which at that time seemed priceless. The shells, colorful pebbles that were so painstakingly collected and carefully placed in old shoe boxes. Running barefoot in the rain in the lawn , on the terrace, in the field , carefree and brimming with joy , splashing water with the toes full of mud and weeds. Making paper boats and watching them zigzag through the water streaming through the lanes. Climbing on the trees and sitting for hours observing the world beneath, legs swinging to some unheard music. Playing marbles, hopscotch and other local games till I was forced retreat to the comforts of home. Dirty sneakers, elastic running from socks, a bruise here and there, hair ruffled ready to face the howler which would split open along with the front door in shape of my mom. Making tents out of sheets and blankets over the furniture and escaping into a magical world lit by torch, pretending to be gypsy child. Here a whole new world waited to explode. Boxes and bottles of magic potions , trinkets which could charm any heart, rag dolls and colors and a candy box with gummy bears, jujubes, lemon drops, candy sticks and much more. Sometimes there were half eaten cookies too. Those moments of sheer bliss when I wasn’t so wise to the rulings of the world. Playing chess with dad, listening to his childhood stories. Those summer nights when the electricity would go and we would sit in the darkness playing “Radio station “ where I would be the radio station playing music, commercials and dad would in between say ” change the channel” I would voice over everything and his warm laugh would fill my little heart. The day I learned to whistle from the blade of grass life suddenly changed. It was fun to make music in

the most natural way. I also learned to make a musical instrument of sorts from dried mango seed. It was a cultivated talent to make different sounds from these lovely instruments. When the silk cotton tree bloomed and the cotton puffs sailed along with the breeze I would run after them and collect them to fill little pillow/quilt for the doll. It was fun to catch a drifting soft cotton, resembling a snow flake, and softly blow it away. Blowing a Dandelion puff would fill the air with little dancing stars and make the heart skip a beat. I loved making soap-bubble and ran with the bubble wands, made of wire hangers or straw and threads, as the breeze made it dance to its tune. It was a dream fantasy to watch a delicate bubble escape from the wand and waltz along the breeze with millions of rainbow colors. Crayons ,water colors, pencils and papers, colored chalk (have you ever nibbled on the chalk or got sprayed with a duster full of chalk dust) would keep me warmed for hours. My box of wax crayons and later the oil pastels was a wonder world where each color told a story. I found immense joy in coloring and later watching my boys color their world with imagination was pure bliss. Another thing I miss is the fun I had racing down the road rolling the old cycle tyre with a stick. There would be races in the lanes and by lanes as we maneuvered the wobbly tyre and ran at top speed to beat the others screaming with glee. Same was with bicycle races where one usually emerged bruised and sometimes with torn and muddy clothes. Tyres remind me of something I long to do even now. Hang and swing to the improvised swings made with thick old tyres. It was The Thing to do on a summer day and sometime when I watch the village kids screeching and screaming while they swirl around on the swing my just want to rush and join them. Those were the days when one didn’t care about the our sexuality, dresses, looks, time, season, anything. The dirtier the better. A little disorder in the dress was the joy of being a child. I did play the so-called “girlie games” with dolls and wooden kitchen sets but I was never stopped from those “strictly for boys” games and often returned home with a booty or a bruise. Summer nights were spent on the terrace watching constellations and yearning for a shooting star. These days one hardly sees a star in the smog ridden city sky. I remember taking my elder one for walks and sitting under the star lit sky in Ranikhet during our visits there. Summer evenings spent under the shady Neem trees chewing a blade of grass and catching the glimpse of clear blue sky from between the branches was something I long to do. It was a time to watch the

drifting clouds and spin stories around the figures one imagined. Winter had its own charm. There is an insane joy in scribbling on a steamed bathroom mirror . This is something I carried from my childhood and when my boys were big enough , we left something on the mirror for the other person to figure out. A drawing, a slogan , a note , anything. It still is such a fun. I still finger draw on fogged windows of cars, on fogged glass doors , so do my kids. It used to be fun to roll a paper and smoke an imaginary cigarette pretending to be Don Corleone as the water vapor from the mouth condensed due to cold. Wading through the creek, hopping after the frogs that croaked all the time during rains , wiggling the earthworms with thin sticks, digging holes ( just for the sake of it), catching a lady bird and watching it run around all over the hand-made life worth living. Who cared about heat and cold, rain or dust, summer or winter? Life as a kid was all one big carnival of color, sound, light and dark. I loved to run along the train as a small girl. Trains are fascinating. I would hear the whistle and run out to watch it emerge from the bend billowing the steam and then it would zip past shaking the earth below my tiny feet. I loved travelling in the train too. On our yearly journeys to Pune I would stay glued to the window watching the kaleidoscope out side, the changing terrain, wind slapping against the face, the people, local food and the joy of straining the neck to watch the train turn around a bend. It is sight I treasure. Sneaking away from home for an adventure is something we all loved as kids I am sure. My boys did it too and now I know that mothers have sixth sense and eyes at the back of their head and everywhere. There is so much we learn and enjoy in every stage of life but those things we did as kids never return. I made sure to do all the fun things with each of my son irrespective of what people would say about a young woman with little boys rolling down a grass slope or running from the shelter of one tree to another on a cold rainy morning in a hill station along with a little boy. Breathless, shivering, laughing and yet glowing just like kids. I wanted them to treasure moments which will be lost in time for good. We are still a bunch of lunatics ( my boys and me) but we are all grown up now with so many issues about being oneself. Some day I want to relive my childhood, Do whatever my aging body permits. It’s a sad truth that we are all victims of growing up. Play with your inner child sometime, let go, shed all inhibitions, don’t grow up so fast ..growing up is overrated anyway.. Jan ‘12 LTGTR 51

Photog raph by Sundar Gan esh

The Things That Mystified Us As children By Aradhna Mangla Daulatram College When I was a child, I would never tire of asking questions. But I would just not stop when I would be in the car.

pots on the stove or try to stir them. I was always dumbfounded by cakes, I couldn’t understand how a liquid-y white mass could become a glorious, spongey cake! Now, of course, I know the scientific reasons behind them, but as a child, it was nothing short of magic for me! Cars too posed aother enigma. Having watched Flintstones, I would always presume that it was my Dad who padded on the road and made the car move. Imagine my confusion when I saw that there were no holes on the floor to do so!

Looking out from the rear of the car, with feet dangling off the backseat, I would torpedo my parents with endless jabber, and being the nice parents they are, they would tirelessly humor me. (I’m lucky I did not get But these questions are born of lack of knowledge. And given away to an orphanage really!) as one question was answered, another would spring A lot of stuff held wonder for me as a child and I’m sure in its place! The mind is so much like a muscle. Albeit many of you will agree too.I grew up in an age where one, that we train too little. (I’ve read this somewhere!) we didn’t have personal phones, personal computers Why is it that very few things surprise us anymore? came in late and ipods were rare. And actually, we didnt A person jumping through a ring of fire hardly elicits care!School and then the playground (And the dreaded the same response from us as it does from a child. homework!) - This occupied our days. If we started to collect shiny rocks as chidren do, we But we would never be too tired to question things. Even would be called silly. We would say that we know the when our parents forbade us from doing something, mechanics/physics/logic/arguments etc behind things. the first thing that would come out from our mouths Has growing up, diminished our capacity to gaze in would be a big, fat WHY! I have always loved cooking, wonder? I guess thats one question we can’t answer and when I was a midget, I would try to peer into the in riddles. 52 LTGTR Jan ‘12

To be what you want to be By Amrita Paul Symbiosis Institute of Media & Communication

My trip on the said path began as a toddler, all of eight years old when my mother decided that I should learn bharatnatyam, the Indian classical dance form. But for me, dancing with rhythm was nothing short of rocket science. I missed steps, I forgot my cues and I did not practice when I was told to. Even as a child I wondered, how could I be so bad at something? If Rani and Shahrukh could dance to Shava Shava I could also remember a few odd steps which I was made to learn without any music. But guess what, I couldn’t and hence I used to physically reprimanded by dance teacher, who had taken my failure a bit too seriously. This continued for two years till my mother finally decided to put me somewhere else to learn painting and recitation. I faired reasonably in both, and thus out of sheer encouragement I was coerced to learn rabindrasangeet for a period of six years from three different teachers. I remember vividly that when I was in my eight standard I was not only juggling between school and tuitions but also three extracurricular activities, none of which I was particularly fond of ! So much for being a failure, eh? But even throughout these troubled times, I always had a pen and paper to write down about those moments which I could not express otherwise. From nondescript one liner’s to cheesy passages, full of grammatical and spelling errors, it has been quite a ride. Every time, I felt distraught, happy, elated, embarrassed I felt the need of writing about the same without even bothering to even acknowledge the fact that I might be getting good at it after all. Then one fine day, I received my first term English papers wherein I had scored highest in the essay. I was a mediocre student but for that very moment,

Photog raph by Manus hree Gang war

There is this thing about my native place. Every person is expected to excel at least one art form in his/her life time. Be it music, dance, theatre, recitation or in fine arts. If you are a guy, football may also do the trick. According to most parents, co curricular activities are supposedly as important as fairing well in your examinations. Thus, there is no way that a poor child would be left alone to decide for himself as to what he really passionate about. After all perfection comes from hard work and dedication and as always, there are no shortcuts to the tedious journey of fulfilling your parents’ ambitions rather than your own.

I was on cloud nine, unable to believe that someone might have actually liked going through my ramblings which more often than not was filled with unnecessary idealism. In my growing up years, every piece I wrote, in tattered paper or the back of my science notebook had the leitmotif of love, lost and gained, of benevolence and faith which is perhaps necessary to sustain every relationship of our lives. I have never tried in assessing my own writing skills primarily because I wanted it to refrain from comparing it to anyone else’s. Although my pen and paper has been replaced by a laptop, the feeling of putting now something new into words feels the same. It is like discovering something which you never thought existed within you. An opportunity of making mistakes, of getting surprised, of laughing with fear, sometimes at your own self. The amount of satisfaction I have received through penning down by emotions over the years can never be equated with any memory of my childhood which hovers around my mind. And although I terribly embarrassed myself succumbing to my mom’s whims and fancies, I am glad that she forced me into doing something utterly undesirable. Because, in those moments of sheer misery, I found the writer within me. And yes, it has made me realize that the journey matters more than the destination because it allows you to break free from the urban squalor and be what you want to be. Jan ‘12 LTGTR 53

Pho tograph by Prasa nt h A kki

Playgrounds and Little People.

By Aradhna Mangla Daulatram College

Children aren’t just kids. They’re Little People.

he’ll pitch in when the group must pay for breaking someone’s window, or if he’ll back the group in a fight. But it is also said that children are like sponges. They absorb much, but hold little.

They sense more than you think they will and are a lot like monkeys, who imitate and learn. Children are blessed with the power of forgetting and many of their traits will not They grow into Older People, who are not very survive to adulthood. different from their younger selves. Its hard to say then, how a person may turn out Playgrounds for children too are just a simplified to be. Becoming an adult corrupts the mind version of the world an adult would see. with many things. In fact, many psychologists first observe children “Reason” and “Logic” teach you that its not at play in order to understand adult behaviour. good to wear your heart on your sleeve or to However, children are a lot like wet clay, that be honest all the time. could be shaped into anything over time. You learn that Marks don’t mean numbers, they The sand pit and the swings give away a lot mean Money. about a person, however, a lot is left to be Some things do survive, like scars and their guessed. stories, serving as a markers on our journey Yes, many traits usually manifest themselves towards adulthood. in early childhood. But people’s natures are Little people must assimilate years of experience subject to change, and many a times, our in order to become Older people, with each childhood friends grow up to be very different birthday marking a year more until they can from what we expected them to be. change from one playground to another. The By observing a child at the playgorund, you can bigger the better. tell whether a person plays fair or not, whether 54 LTGTR Jan ‘12

Book Reviews that most people will strongly recommend against. In fact given the profanity, narcissism and other erratic topics the book revolves around, I say that sensitive readers ought to be on their guard.

The Catcher In The Rye By Prudhvi Chandra | BITS Hyderabad Author : J. D. Salinger Before you go any further, let me tell you something I heard a long time ago. “For every argument there are three sides; the two for which we fight, and of course the third which is right.” In my opinion, the same goes for The Catcher in the Rye. Since its publication in the 50’s, it has been the epitome of controversial books. So before you judge me, let me make this very clear. The review is MY opinion of the book. You may or may not agree with me (though it might be rather inconvenient if you don’t).

Holden Caulfield, the story’s narrator and definitely neither the protagonist nor the antagonist, is a seventeen year old New Yorker who is angry, depressed, sick and tired of his monotonous life, sick of going to schools full of phony people. Phony as in fake, hypocrite, pretentious. He’s not the everyday kind of teenager you meet on the street. He is sarcastic and depressed most of the time but you can sense a vehement layout of the truth voiced in his blatant angst and alienation. The book is more like reading his blog during the 3-4 days that come between his kicked-out phase from yet another prestigious school and breaking out the news to his parents. Phrases like, “anyways, as I was saying”, “…if you wanna know the truth”, “man that kills me” are extremely common throughout the book. The language sort of grows on you. Therein lies the genius of Salinger, in connecting with the reader. Though profanely cockeyed, Holden is subtly provocative in his vocabulary. Right in the first few pages, Holden talks about his favourite authors and books. He says he likes reading those books the most where he feels like he can call up the author as if the author is his buddy and discuss the characters and events in the book. This book is exactly that book. As I was reading it, I felt like talking to Holden. I believe this is what has made this book the classic we have now, the way you connect to Holden. A tour de force for sure.

Honestly, it’s difficult to explain why I love this book! Obviously, The Catcher in the Rye is not So this is a neutral positivity for the book. There unheard of seeing as it was published 65 years are definite patterns of nervous breakdowns, ago and has sold 65 million copies as well! Must depressions, sexual explorations and other badbe fun to sell a million copies a year! to-read-in-literature words and some readers That should say enough about the genius of this won’t really like it. It’s something that not every book but I must warn you, it does have traits reader will be able to grasp or hold onto, but it’s Jan ‘12 LTGTR 55

something you’ll never forget. In other words, if you haven’t already, give it a shot! ...................................................................................

Along The Way By Bastab Chakraborty http://betweenthelines.in/

Author : TGC Prasad Format: Paperback Language: English ISBN: 9788129117847 Pages: 349 Price: 295.00 ‘Along The Way’ by TGC Prasad is a novel about Software Engineers by a Software Engineer. With strong vibes of TCS and its work culture reflected in a surreal way in the novel, this Software Engineer reviewer also found it equally enticing and interesting, to say the least. FYI, even the company being the same, no wonder the review also is going to be in a positive note. No kidding. :) When Rupa Publications takes up a book, which appears to be like any other chick-lit novel, you know there’s an undercurrent and you become restless to find out the actual reason behind the same. This book did not have any marketing gimmicks to inflate sales, unlike our mass-popular writers like Chetan Bhagat and Durjoy Datta. The novel made it a point to stay mainstream. With quality writing and a gripping storyline it did exactly the same. I, as a reader, love this approach and hope more and more writers think this way.

The author puts up an insider’s view of the Software Industry like many other authors previously tried but could not manage to. Perhaps his seniority helped, with which comes the maturity (wisdom) to know (realize) where to stop or apply brakes. You don’t go overboard with something as security-panicky as the Software Industry scenario in our country and readers with the same background will recognize the author’s effort about the same. About the Author: TGC Prasad offers – Strategic consulting, HR advisory and senior executive coaching to – start-ups, SMEs, Indian and MNC companies. Overall Rating: 8.5/10

‘Along The Way’ has way too many protagonists. And yet the writer did a good job handling each ................................................................................... of them with utmost care. Like the mother of seven who does not want even one of them to grow up to be a spoilt brat. 56 LTGTR Jan ‘12

Roshan D’Souza – Lead Vocals Sagar Gururaj – Keys/Backing Vocals Vinod James Issac – Rhythm Guitar Suraj Dutt – Lead Guitar/ Backing vocals Amith Kumar – Bass Guitar Yadhunandan Nagaraj - Drums Q. Where did you guys meet? How long have you know each other ?

Q. What ’s the story behind the name VERSES? When people first hear our band name, they immediately get the impression that we might be a religious band and when they listen to our music they think its satanic or anti religious or whatever. But we do not have any religious or satanic content in our music. When we decide to pen down the lyrics we look to touch upon all aspects that are affecting the world today. If you carefully observe our lyrical content you will see that it’s all about our hypocritical world, end of days or judgment day if you like to call it. So hence it is for all you fans out there to decide what Verses is for you. Q. And the current line-up of the band is? 58 LTGTR Jan ‘12

Roshan, Sagar and Vinod know each other from their days in college. But it was the Sandeep(ex guitarist), Sagar and Vinod who started the band. It was purely co incidental that the concept of starting a band came along. Sagar was in conversation with Sandeep about getting his Bass guitar repaired, Vinod over heard the conversation and was like ‘Bro I didn’t know you play the bass, let’s jam sometime!!’. One thing led to another and “Verses” was formed. Roshan who was also a good friend to everyone joined in later to carry on the vox duties. Then Verses saw a lot of lineup changes with Amith taking over the bass duties when Sagar decided to switch to Keys. Suraj (ex Innerskin and Velvet Trap) replaced Karthik (ex guitarist who took over from Sandeep) on the lead guitar. Our ex drummer Bitupan also had to leave due to some personal reasons who was replaced by Yadhunandan. With the current line up the band has touched upon another dimension and has won various accolades for our achievements all over the country. Q. If you had to pick a genre for you music,what would it be? Who are your major influences? ‘Verses’ plays Melodic Death Metal, a genre which is unique on its own because of the melancholic touch to it and a genre which is mostly untouched in India. Our International influences are Dimmu Borgir, Cradle Of Filth, Behemoth, Between the Buried and Me, The Absence, Dark Tranquillity, Arch Enemy, Kalmah etc. The Indian bands that we like are Kryptos, Acrid Semblence, Demonic Resurrection,

Guillotine etc. Q. When did you finally decide to form a band? What inspires you to make music together? Our band was formed way back in late 2008. Most of the band members are from the same college who used to share a common interest in music and decided to do something about it. The like mindedness of these friends was the reason for the birth of ‘Verses’. What inspired us was to introduce Bangalore and rest of the country to something that they have never come across and the touch upon the genre which many have left untouched which was Melodic Death. Q. How do you go about writing & composing songs? Song writing/composing mostly happens when everyone sits together in the jam room and comes up with different ideas and patterns for the song. When the song writing is in process, everyone in the band just knows what they are supposed to do and all the ideas just fits in with no nonsense and just music taking over. Sagar always makes sure there are melancholic passages in the song, Suraj and Vinod come up with out of the world riffs and rhythm patterns, Amith comes up with innovative bass lines that always blends in perfectly, Yadhu comes up with some amazing complex drumming patterns and are always well structured and hard to keep up to, Roshan comes up with the vocal structure with his amazing range in screams and screeches thus completing the process of song writing/composing. Lyrics which is an integral part of our song writing process, are always written by Roshan and he decides the themes for all the songs. Q. Are there any main themes to your songs ? Our world is filled with so much of hypocrisy with people fighting over which religion is superior to the other. Take our very own country for example where there’s almost no room for

people of different religions getting together. People still live by their own pre conceived notion and always try to prove its right when the whole world can see that there is no one who’s more wrong. People live in constant fear and there’s always the question of war lurking around. We need a change, a big change hence these are some of the issues we try to address and choose as topics to our songs. Our recently released EP ‘Threshold’ is filled with songs that addresses our hypocritical world and for a change waiting to happen. Q. Which songs do you perform most frequently? Do you ever play any covers? We as a band started off playing covers like most bands did when started playing and then decided we will not be playing anymore covers. That is when we decided to write our own material and have stuck to it till today. Our setlist includes the songs from our EP which are Threshold, Call for Salvation, Damnation, Under Jan ‘12 LTGTR 59

the cursed moon and A Broken tale. The songs thing to do as we had very little idea about how Threshold, Call for Salvation and Damnation we are supposed to sound as a band. The scene was dominated with some amazing bands here are the ones that we frequently perform. in Bangalore and hence for a new entrant like Q. How do you guys rehearse and practice ? us it was extremely difficult. But we stuck to our When we enter the jam room first we set up task and kept on playing gigs after gigs and not our equipments, we check the sound and make bothered about anything else. It was a learning sure everyone is sounding fine and properly curve for us. We did not want to win any gigs audible. We pay a lot of importance to how we but wanted to learn from other bands and that sound so we never start playing until the sound is what we did. After that winning just became is set to our liking which is also the case at our a part of our learning curve. We started winning gigs. We always make sure we play all of our a lot of gigs, headlined a couple of fests and songs at the jam room first and then work on before we know it we had already established the newer materials. a pretty good fan base. We started exploring the scene outside Bangalore and played a lot of Q. What has been your biggest challenge as an gigs at places like Mumbai, Chennai, Delhi, Goa etc, and now we are proud to say that we have upcoming band in India ? The biggest challenge was during the initial a very strong fan base across the country. days when we had just gotten into the scene. Winning over the audience was the hardest 60 LTGTR Jan â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;12

Q. How long have each of you been playing your does it take to find your own sound? respective instruments ? (leave the vocalist :P) Yes we do. And that is what makes our band Well our keyboardist Sagar, we can say that so unique. We did take a lot of time to find he was born with the keyboards in his hand our sound and figure out what ‘Verses’ sound as he’s been playing the keys from the past 12 like and trust me it wasn’t an easy task. It’s years. Suraj picked up the guitar when all the not always the genre you pick that makes your cool kids were playing the WWF card games, band unique, it’s how innovative you can get which is from the past 10 years and Vinod has with that genre that makes you stand out. been shredding the guitar from the day he got into engineering, from 8 years ago. Amith has Q. Any last words ? been playing bass since cargo jeans went out of fashion (lol) which is from the past 10 years, We want to thank for interviewing our band. again a pretty long time. Yadhunandan has been We would also like to thank all our fans who playing the drums since he could hold a pair of have been with us from so long and supporting us through thick and thin. Hope you stay with sticks in his hand, from the past 7 to 8 years. us until we last. Please do buy our EP entitled ‘Threshold’. You can send us an e mail at verses. Q. What is your take on the western music india@gmail.com and order a copy. Keep scene in India ? And by take, we mean literally supporting the Indian Metal Scene\m/ TAKE. Interesting question. Western music scene in India is still at a development phase but quickly catching up with the trend. Rock and Metal is starting to show its face here in our country. Many international acts have toured India and have gone back home knowing that people actually know who they are and what kinda music they play. It still isn’t good enough to say ‘yes its happening here’ but can easily say that it can only get better and better from here on provided Bollywood continues to make shit music like they are now.

Q. The unofficial question that doesn’t get printed :P …if you were interviewing a band, what one question would you ask them that isn’t in the questionnaire above? ROFL. Well I would want to ask em what goes through THEIR mind when they name their songs. ...................................................................................

Q. What do you have to say about the rise of “easy sweet mix music” or Pop ? Do you think it is fine, as long as the person who is listening to it is comforted by it ? To be frank we are not against any genre of music as everyone would have listened to pop quite a lot in their life (so have we). So as long as the person listening to it is comforted by it good enough. Just make sure you don’t go around blaring it out on people’s faces. Q. Finding one’s own sound is a long gone-by thing in today’s genre-plagued scene. Do you guys think you have your own sound? What

Read more articles like these at www.ltgtr.in Check out facebook page of this band Jan ‘12 LTGTR 61

Interview Aman Wilson Aman Wilson is by profession a commercial pilot and by passion a photographer. The 24 year old Delhite describes his relation with the camera thus, “I have been playing with the camera since my dad bought one when I was really young maybe even before I was born. But I really got into photography like a year back and since then there has been no stopping me from clicking whatever catches my eye. What started out as a hobby has now turned into a profession.” After learning from internet, books,YouTube etc. he decided to take it a step further and learn from a professional. He is now an apprentice under veteran O.P Sharma at Triveni Kala Sangam. Q. What prompted you to enter this profession? A. Like i said, I had been clicking with my dad’s camera but i really got interested in photography like a year back when one of my uncles bought me a new DSLR.I became really fascinated with all the things i could do with a camera. And then the journey of self-exploration began...

once you are able to convince someone that it’s for the right purpose and make them feel comfortable they pose for you!!

Q. What is the story of the man behind the lens? A. I truly believe that it’s more the person behind the camera that matters as my guru Q.What were your biggest roadblocks? Mr.O.P Sharma says because if you don’t have A. Biggest roadblock...I guess the fact that I the eye for catching an interesting composition didn’t own a DSLR at the time i started out was a then even your best equipment won’t make a a big roadblock. I did have a point and shoot and difference. had to make do with it and just keep learning. On the plus side, due to that restriction I learnt Q. A bit about your camera, which camera do that its more the person behind the camera you use? who matters and not the camera itself. A. I own the canon EOS 7D with 18-135mm and a 50mm. Q. Indians are pretty shy about getting ................................................................................... photographed. How do you overcome this? A. Oh yes. I have come across this a lot...but Jan ‘12 LTGTR 63

Credits Photography 1. Vishakha Jindal http://www.flickr.com/people/vishakhajindal/ 2. Indrajeet Deshmukh https://www.facebook.com/pages/Indrajeet-Deshmukhsphotography/156466204403947 3. Sundar Ganesh https://www.facebook.com/sundarphotography 4. Vijay Narayan https://www.facebook.com/pages/Vijay-NarayanPhotography/298610163511508 5. Aman Wilson https://www.facebook.com/amanwilsonphotography

P hotogra ph by Vi s hakha Ji ndal

6. Sahil Mehta 7. Prashant Mohan 8. Akhil Pawar 9. Chakradhar Nemani 10. Prasanth Akki 11. Amrita Paul 12 Manushree Gangwar 64 LTGTR Jan â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;12

Design Chinmay Maheshwari

Special Thanks to Chaitanya Goyal Tikuli Dogra

Jan â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;12 LTGTR 65