The glass mellows, filters, numbs the intensity of the noon sun. Any sounds extrinsic to the coach face a no-entry as they try to board. The temperature is artificial as might be many things inside. It feels insulated. It is insulated, reinforced insulation. The wheels turn fast, kissing the tracks, holding on to them. I move homeward.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
First Term at L
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
What I miss in IIML
I read a newspaper today! For one whole hour!
Here at IIML, this statement would signify nothing less than a momentous achievement. And this is what I miss second most here (The first being home cooked food!). The delicious joy of following the intricately constructed arguments about 'national interest' and losing yourself in the reams of paper expounding the 'intellectual underpinings' of this 'great democracy'. Yup, I am speaking of the unadulterated pleasure of following the nation's politics. Its something I have really begun to miss. Chronically humour depreived would be a precise description of my state now. For those who have never experienced the pleasure of indulging in political specatatorship, allow me to explain.
Reading politics and better still watching it is unbelievably entertaining. Some of the most unintentionally hilarious moments on television have been on the live telecast of the Lok Sabha in session. On another level, it also appeals and invigorates all the dormant pious instincts that you may have preserved to this day. After all, divine intervention is the only plausible reason that the national framework still stands. If you have never seen the parliament in session, let me share some enriching experiences:
It was the question hour of parliament and a backbencher was questioning the telecommunications minister. I was surfing channels and the words 'UMTS' and 'WCDMA' caught my attention.
'What would be government's policy with regards to frequency allocation for emerging technologies like UMTS and WCDMA?' (This is not the exact question, but the gist as I remember it.)
I was surfing channels and the words 'UMTS' and 'WCDMA' caught my attention. Being an electronics engineer who had spent nights framing SoPs on how he would like to contribute to 4G technologies, I was surprised to the point of stupefication that such things were actually discussed in the Lok Sabha. My immensely mistaken impression then connected the sole utility of this structure as a primary medium for slogan shouting, walking out and congregating in the well. The minister started replying and I did not have to work too hard at restraining my newfound sense of awe:
"We will leave it to the market forces. (some non-specific generalized sentences).The government is not going to discriminate between CDMA or GSM."
I rolled over the statement in my head. Surely, there was something missing. But the backbencher was satisfied. And I was hooked. Enlightenment. The arcane mysteries of policy making started unravelling around me. I looked up the telecom minister's website. His astute discriminating worldview emerged perhaps from the years he spent studying economics. A degree in economics, ofcourse, eliminates the need to fiddle around with trivial acronyms of dubious utility. I also saw his 'vision plan' for leapfrogging directly to 4G.
And I cried after that. My head bowed in respect to the unparalleled efforts of the Indian decision makers towards providing comic relief to a saas-bahu laden TV scenario. From then on, perhaps as a mark of appreciation for this effort, I caught up with the parliament broadcast whenever I could. And day after day, this belief of mine was reinforced!
An angry Somnath Chatterjee and the honourable MPs teasing him. These were lessons in stress release that I will never forget. To blend a childlike unrestrained mirth with the travails of policymaking was exemplified in their behaviour. Again there were a few spoilsports like BhairavSingh Shekawat who managed to enforce an superficial discussion and suppress these natural instincts, but thankfully they kept their hands off the Lower House.
And speaking of Unity, this is where you see the best examples. Infact, this is one place where you actually learn that walkouts and protests are a better idea than discussions in the parliament. The second event I remember during the sombre and worklike mood of the parliament (the first being my brushes with 3G and 4G) was in the days before the introduction of the 93rd constitutional amendment Act. It was a BJP MP who raised the issue of the 'deprieved' classes being not able to secure their rightful place in private institutes. It was a UPA minister who answered the concern with plans to bring about a Constitutional Amendment to correct this 'injustice' (became famous some months later as Mandal II). To this day whenever I hear the Congress and the BJP harping the same tune, I often start sweating!
This visual vividity of perennial laughter is what led me further to explore the vicarious pleasures of the recorded words - the saved records on the Parliament of India website. And it was remarkable. Yes.. there was mine to dig but the tireless were rewarded with true jewels. Like on the debate on uniform civil code, a recorded argument against uniform civil code - 'Shariah is the word of God and no one can challenge it'. And for all those hounding Advani for his Jinnah remarks (for the lesser educated, he praised Jinnah's secular vision for Pakistan based on a speech of Jinnah), the Indian constituent assembly actually praised Jinnah's spirit which led him to carve out the state of Pakistan. No this is not my interpretation. It is present in those many words! (A link would be provided if asked for!)
And now I miss that. IIM Lucknow has led me away from the intellectual joys of ineffectual democracy. From the puppet prime minister and the 'progressive' leftist opposition to the 'supportive' rightists and the IIMAed Lalu, I no longer can enjoy their unique attempts at public service. We certainly do not have the best politicians in the world as part as governance is concerned, but when it comes to public entertainment, its a challenge to come up with better.
Here at IIML, this statement would signify nothing less than a momentous achievement. And this is what I miss second most here (The first being home cooked food!). The delicious joy of following the intricately constructed arguments about 'national interest' and losing yourself in the reams of paper expounding the 'intellectual underpinings' of this 'great democracy'. Yup, I am speaking of the unadulterated pleasure of following the nation's politics. Its something I have really begun to miss. Chronically humour depreived would be a precise description of my state now. For those who have never experienced the pleasure of indulging in political specatatorship, allow me to explain.
Reading politics and better still watching it is unbelievably entertaining. Some of the most unintentionally hilarious moments on television have been on the live telecast of the Lok Sabha in session. On another level, it also appeals and invigorates all the dormant pious instincts that you may have preserved to this day. After all, divine intervention is the only plausible reason that the national framework still stands. If you have never seen the parliament in session, let me share some enriching experiences:
It was the question hour of parliament and a backbencher was questioning the telecommunications minister. I was surfing channels and the words 'UMTS' and 'WCDMA' caught my attention.
'What would be government's policy with regards to frequency allocation for emerging technologies like UMTS and WCDMA?' (This is not the exact question, but the gist as I remember it.)
I was surfing channels and the words 'UMTS' and 'WCDMA' caught my attention. Being an electronics engineer who had spent nights framing SoPs on how he would like to contribute to 4G technologies, I was surprised to the point of stupefication that such things were actually discussed in the Lok Sabha. My immensely mistaken impression then connected the sole utility of this structure as a primary medium for slogan shouting, walking out and congregating in the well. The minister started replying and I did not have to work too hard at restraining my newfound sense of awe:
"We will leave it to the market forces. (some non-specific generalized sentences).The government is not going to discriminate between CDMA or GSM."
I rolled over the statement in my head. Surely, there was something missing. But the backbencher was satisfied. And I was hooked. Enlightenment. The arcane mysteries of policy making started unravelling around me. I looked up the telecom minister's website. His astute discriminating worldview emerged perhaps from the years he spent studying economics. A degree in economics, ofcourse, eliminates the need to fiddle around with trivial acronyms of dubious utility. I also saw his 'vision plan' for leapfrogging directly to 4G.
And I cried after that. My head bowed in respect to the unparalleled efforts of the Indian decision makers towards providing comic relief to a saas-bahu laden TV scenario. From then on, perhaps as a mark of appreciation for this effort, I caught up with the parliament broadcast whenever I could. And day after day, this belief of mine was reinforced!
An angry Somnath Chatterjee and the honourable MPs teasing him. These were lessons in stress release that I will never forget. To blend a childlike unrestrained mirth with the travails of policymaking was exemplified in their behaviour. Again there were a few spoilsports like BhairavSingh Shekawat who managed to enforce an superficial discussion and suppress these natural instincts, but thankfully they kept their hands off the Lower House.
And speaking of Unity, this is where you see the best examples. Infact, this is one place where you actually learn that walkouts and protests are a better idea than discussions in the parliament. The second event I remember during the sombre and worklike mood of the parliament (the first being my brushes with 3G and 4G) was in the days before the introduction of the 93rd constitutional amendment Act. It was a BJP MP who raised the issue of the 'deprieved' classes being not able to secure their rightful place in private institutes. It was a UPA minister who answered the concern with plans to bring about a Constitutional Amendment to correct this 'injustice' (became famous some months later as Mandal II). To this day whenever I hear the Congress and the BJP harping the same tune, I often start sweating!
This visual vividity of perennial laughter is what led me further to explore the vicarious pleasures of the recorded words - the saved records on the Parliament of India website. And it was remarkable. Yes.. there was mine to dig but the tireless were rewarded with true jewels. Like on the debate on uniform civil code, a recorded argument against uniform civil code - 'Shariah is the word of God and no one can challenge it'. And for all those hounding Advani for his Jinnah remarks (for the lesser educated, he praised Jinnah's secular vision for Pakistan based on a speech of Jinnah), the Indian constituent assembly actually praised Jinnah's spirit which led him to carve out the state of Pakistan. No this is not my interpretation. It is present in those many words! (A link would be provided if asked for!)
And now I miss that. IIM Lucknow has led me away from the intellectual joys of ineffectual democracy. From the puppet prime minister and the 'progressive' leftist opposition to the 'supportive' rightists and the IIMAed Lalu, I no longer can enjoy their unique attempts at public service. We certainly do not have the best politicians in the world as part as governance is concerned, but when it comes to public entertainment, its a challenge to come up with better.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
On Power Cuts and Perspectives....
And into one end [of the Total Perspective Vortex], he plugged the whole of reality as extrapolated from a piece of fairy cake, and into the other, he plugged his wife: so that when he turned it on she saw in one instant the whole infinity of creation and herself in relation to it.
To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock completely annihilated her brain........
-Douglas Adams
(The Restaurant at the End of the Universe)
We experienced a power cut on campus today. I was walking down the corridor, towards the water cooler at around 9 pm, when suddenly all lights went out. Black. That was how the scene looked. Or perhaps it did not look that way at all, for I could not claim to see anything. It took me a few seconds to realize that the whole campus was experiencing a power cut. As I ambled on roomwards, with the support of the wall, I reached the outing towards the terrace, or the 'Titanic', to speak colloquially (The architect here displayed some very obvious emotional influences from James Cameron's masterpiece. Hint: Think of the I am the king of the world scene).
I looked out and started onto the terrace. It was a sight I had perhaps never seen in Mumbai. A night sky unpolluted, uninhibited by any sort of light, or buildings, skyscrapers, skylines. The stars twinkled in thousands, millions. There were no neon signs to distract. Moonlight was still nascent, growing with each night. The clouds had also spared the skies on this instance. It was just the stars, the moon and the night sky. No lights except for a lonely motorbike rider near Nescafe.
A group of seniors gathered on after a few seconds.
"Beautiful", I heard that muttered somewhere. Could not agree more. Beautiful, astounding, confusing, flabbergasting, discombobulating and all the other unpronounceable adjectives you can think of. It was the beauty of eternity and infinity. And this beauty is frightening. You never know when eternity will end. You can never guess the boundaries of infinity. Until ofcourse you consider chocolate cakes...... To get a better idea, imagine an infinitely long chocalate cake and time you would take to eat it all. Also consider all the indigestion you would have to suffer if the chocolate cake is made in the mess. All this chocolate cake stuff quickly put a lot of perspective on my appetite for deserts. It disappeared faster than the sputtering electricity supply to a certain management institute in Northern India.
Beauty, especially that which challenges all your concepts of proportion, either degenerates all thoughts in vicinity to poetic enchantment or drains all the guarded optimism you had been preserving for such a day. Believe me it is a shitty feeling to think about the cosmic importance of 'Effects of changes in the foreign exchange rates - European and Indian Accounting Standards' while watching more than an eyeful of stars staring smugly at you. This leads to cynicism about the whole process of living in general or begets creative rationalizations about the importance of accounting standards in alien galaxies. Both of which are not good thoughts to have when a host of quizzes are lined up for the coming week.....
The power was back in two minutes. Everyone trundled back to their rooms. I did too. I was bit disconcerted, for I had seen something obvious. Something so obvious, that I had never seen it ever before. Something so obvious that its better left ignored. It will take some time to recede into mundanity but I will succeed....
To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock completely annihilated her brain, but to his satisfaction he realized that he had proved conclusively that if life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion.
To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock completely annihilated her brain........
-Douglas Adams
(The Restaurant at the End of the Universe)
We experienced a power cut on campus today. I was walking down the corridor, towards the water cooler at around 9 pm, when suddenly all lights went out. Black. That was how the scene looked. Or perhaps it did not look that way at all, for I could not claim to see anything. It took me a few seconds to realize that the whole campus was experiencing a power cut. As I ambled on roomwards, with the support of the wall, I reached the outing towards the terrace, or the 'Titanic', to speak colloquially (The architect here displayed some very obvious emotional influences from James Cameron's masterpiece. Hint: Think of the I am the king of the world scene).
I looked out and started onto the terrace. It was a sight I had perhaps never seen in Mumbai. A night sky unpolluted, uninhibited by any sort of light, or buildings, skyscrapers, skylines. The stars twinkled in thousands, millions. There were no neon signs to distract. Moonlight was still nascent, growing with each night. The clouds had also spared the skies on this instance. It was just the stars, the moon and the night sky. No lights except for a lonely motorbike rider near Nescafe.
A group of seniors gathered on after a few seconds.
"Beautiful", I heard that muttered somewhere. Could not agree more. Beautiful, astounding, confusing, flabbergasting, discombobulating and all the other unpronounceable adjectives you can think of. It was the beauty of eternity and infinity. And this beauty is frightening. You never know when eternity will end. You can never guess the boundaries of infinity. Until ofcourse you consider chocolate cakes...... To get a better idea, imagine an infinitely long chocalate cake and time you would take to eat it all. Also consider all the indigestion you would have to suffer if the chocolate cake is made in the mess. All this chocolate cake stuff quickly put a lot of perspective on my appetite for deserts. It disappeared faster than the sputtering electricity supply to a certain management institute in Northern India.
Beauty, especially that which challenges all your concepts of proportion, either degenerates all thoughts in vicinity to poetic enchantment or drains all the guarded optimism you had been preserving for such a day. Believe me it is a shitty feeling to think about the cosmic importance of 'Effects of changes in the foreign exchange rates - European and Indian Accounting Standards' while watching more than an eyeful of stars staring smugly at you. This leads to cynicism about the whole process of living in general or begets creative rationalizations about the importance of accounting standards in alien galaxies. Both of which are not good thoughts to have when a host of quizzes are lined up for the coming week.....
The power was back in two minutes. Everyone trundled back to their rooms. I did too. I was bit disconcerted, for I had seen something obvious. Something so obvious, that I had never seen it ever before. Something so obvious that its better left ignored. It will take some time to recede into mundanity but I will succeed....
To Trin Tragula's horror, the shock completely annihilated her brain, but to his satisfaction he realized that he had proved conclusively that if life is going to exist in a Universe of this size, then one thing it cannot afford to have is a sense of proportion.
Friday, July 21, 2006
Life starts
[Post incomplete, no intention ever to get down to completing it!]
"We have to write our CV's.. Find your (tor)mentors".
It started with this. Phone calls, engaged, busy, not available... Call again.
"You are not going for the health run ! First go there and then come for getting the CVs checked"
The 'Health' Run involved running around 2 rounds of the ring road which is loong (3 kms is a conservative guess I think!) and being all happy and cool about it while your seniors snapped your photographs riding bikes. It also involved the pretty 'healthy' aspect of getting cramps in your feet good enough to trouble you for the whole of the next day.
The more than healthy over, I call again. Meet.
"This is childish."
"You expect someone to believe this!"
"Don't tell me you call this an ethical mistake!"
Everything short of tear this sheet away and get lost! After begging, borrowing and some (unsuccessful) attempts at forging signatures, finally submitted the CVs exactly at 12.00. Whew! This work is done. Now I can rest.
" You heard about the case discussion tomorrow ?"
Whaaat!
Skitter of to the CC. Read the case till I hear the mynahs chirping.
"We also have a test later on!"
Meanwhile the 8-hour per day registration modules are on! Goodbye sleep!
Case over! Test over! Time for sleeping....
"Get your groups together. There is a presentation tomorrow."
Phone calls, meetings, presentations prepared...
Registrations started too. It was then that I understood the institute's way of inculcating physical fitness. I stared unbelievably at the pile of books kept on the desk. It took my brain some time to comprehend the ingenious plan that they had in hand. Two days of doing this, and all my cultivated and preserved flab of 21 years will go down the drain.
Anyway, presentations or the rather 'we will have fun at your expense' ragging sessions were done with before we were called for a batch meeting.
Now was the time when the results would be announced, as to who got in which section!
[In the interests of preserving sanity and some traditions, I will leave the story here!]
"We have to write our CV's.. Find your (tor)mentors".
It started with this. Phone calls, engaged, busy, not available... Call again.
"You are not going for the health run ! First go there and then come for getting the CVs checked"
The 'Health' Run involved running around 2 rounds of the ring road which is loong (3 kms is a conservative guess I think!) and being all happy and cool about it while your seniors snapped your photographs riding bikes. It also involved the pretty 'healthy' aspect of getting cramps in your feet good enough to trouble you for the whole of the next day.
The more than healthy over, I call again. Meet.
"This is childish."
"You expect someone to believe this!"
"Don't tell me you call this an ethical mistake!"
Everything short of tear this sheet away and get lost! After begging, borrowing and some (unsuccessful) attempts at forging signatures, finally submitted the CVs exactly at 12.00. Whew! This work is done. Now I can rest.
" You heard about the case discussion tomorrow ?"
Whaaat!
Skitter of to the CC. Read the case till I hear the mynahs chirping.
"We also have a test later on!"
Meanwhile the 8-hour per day registration modules are on! Goodbye sleep!
Case over! Test over! Time for sleeping....
"Get your groups together. There is a presentation tomorrow."
Phone calls, meetings, presentations prepared...
Registrations started too. It was then that I understood the institute's way of inculcating physical fitness. I stared unbelievably at the pile of books kept on the desk. It took my brain some time to comprehend the ingenious plan that they had in hand. Two days of doing this, and all my cultivated and preserved flab of 21 years will go down the drain.
Anyway, presentations or the rather 'we will have fun at your expense' ragging sessions were done with before we were called for a batch meeting.
Now was the time when the results would be announced, as to who got in which section!
[In the interests of preserving sanity and some traditions, I will leave the story here!]
Thursday, July 20, 2006
A Warm Welcome
IIM Lucknow has active students, enlightened faculty, competent doctors, enterprising (and some may mistake this for fleecing) shopkeepers and pretty helpful watchmen. But what often escapes the eyes of the general media is the army of insects that reside on its lawns. The day I entered the institute, the day when it rained, that was the day when the insects decided to welcome me.
Man! Was my room colourful!! Green, Black, Brown, blue - just think of any colour and I could all colours of insects. I was pretty overwhelmed with this show of affection. Infact, some of these were friendly enough to get physical. Which was the time when I too decided to reciprocate. Physically. Most of the insects too were overwhelmed by my display of gratitude I guess for most of them never woke up after this. As for the ones who did, I made sure that they had their throat choked with emotion.
That was the day I realized what they meant when they said you will learn more out of class than inside it during your MBA. I mean how many people can learn to become human replacements of HIT in one day. Not many I guess. But most of us here at IIML did that. And you cannot even imagine the pride of being a 'TeesMaarKhan' (The khan who killed thirty) till you actually accomplish it. Talk of extra-curricular achievements and job satisfaction! All this even before the classes had started!
The rest of the day was spent exploring the campus, from the mess which cooks paneer every other day and a sweet everyday to the Nescafe outlet where you get Polo. From the temple to the guest houses, from the slums to the suburbs this was the place that I was going to live in for two years. So, two years it is with classmates, faculty, staff and most-importantly : the insects!
Man! Was my room colourful!! Green, Black, Brown, blue - just think of any colour and I could all colours of insects. I was pretty overwhelmed with this show of affection. Infact, some of these were friendly enough to get physical. Which was the time when I too decided to reciprocate. Physically. Most of the insects too were overwhelmed by my display of gratitude I guess for most of them never woke up after this. As for the ones who did, I made sure that they had their throat choked with emotion.
That was the day I realized what they meant when they said you will learn more out of class than inside it during your MBA. I mean how many people can learn to become human replacements of HIT in one day. Not many I guess. But most of us here at IIML did that. And you cannot even imagine the pride of being a 'TeesMaarKhan' (The khan who killed thirty) till you actually accomplish it. Talk of extra-curricular achievements and job satisfaction! All this even before the classes had started!
The rest of the day was spent exploring the campus, from the mess which cooks paneer every other day and a sweet everyday to the Nescafe outlet where you get Polo. From the temple to the guest houses, from the slums to the suburbs this was the place that I was going to live in for two years. So, two years it is with classmates, faculty, staff and most-importantly : the insects!
Sunday, July 02, 2006
First Impressions...
(Describes day on 26th March 2006)
There were 4 extra people inside the compartment. So 12 people shared space that meant to accomodate 8. The train was Pushpak Express. Mumbai to Lucknow in 24 hours. Or 26 perhaps to welcome the uninvited guests hopping in. PNB picked me up from the coach itself for a free trip to the campus (and also made me ponder on the kind of sea-change the PSU has gone under).
There were 4 extra people inside the compartment. So 12 people shared space that meant to accomodate 8. The train was Pushpak Express. Mumbai to Lucknow in 24 hours. Or 26 perhaps to welcome the uninvited guests hopping in. PNB picked me up from the coach itself for a free trip to the campus (and also made me ponder on the kind of sea-change the PSU has gone under).
Rains, reasonably heavy rains, welcomed me to the city. The first rains of the city. Rains which made the station crowded, the taxi late and the journey long. Ones which robbed the summer of its ferocity, laid a patina of wetness on all seeable existence and declared loudly, the state of the blocked gutters. The PNB car veered through the streets, between bungalows and gardens, skirting the edges of the impromptu pools near the 'Parivartan Chowk', and finally giving up and wading through the submerged streets of Aliganj. Political posters presented themselves with an unremarkable ubiquity. Only the face of Sharad Pawar, Bal Thackeray and Co. were here replaced by Messrs. Mulayam Singh and Amar Singh. The rest of the journey was quotidian and marked by attempts at pretty mundane small talk.
The campus is 3.4 km from Sitapur Road, a fact which lends its name to the institute band '3.4'. It is another fact that the only thing musical in that journey was the vibrating car and the rattling luggage it was loaded with. A road sign proclaimed proudly, 'IIM Lucknow'. This was followed by many quotations of the usual quota of personalities on whom has been thrust the responsibility of being the 'visionaries' and 'missionaries' of the world. The car took a turn to the right.
A sharp turn. There right before me were the images of the most famous charioteer ever guiding the chariot, the horses and a substanial part of the rest of the world with it. In the hands of his rider, one of the most redoubtable archers ever, the Gandiva stood ready. In sharp contrast or perhaps synergy, stood leading the man whose philosophy of non-violence was inspired by the charioteer and the archer waging the war of righteousness.
As the car drove in the enormity of the campus sank in. Names of the inventor of Yoga and the progenitor of Indian ecomics (rather politics) passed by, as did the hostels.
I was finally in IIM Lucknow.......
Wednesday, June 14, 2006
Visa Power
Nothing beats an interview which starts with a beautiful brunette (BB) looking wide eyed and smiling congratulations at you. Trust me, I speak with experience.
Bluedart delivered my passport today, with a US Visa (F1) for five years. And this Visa followed quite a laborious and to-a-no-end journey of digging through convoluted personal finances, capricious university websites and breezing through 45 seconds of pointless chatting (OK! Not the pointless, but it did not have much of a point to it either). Preparation for visa interview usually entails engaging the (quite needless) services of a Visa counsellor, creating pretty creative balance-sheets, learning by rote a sum total of fifty questions and pursuing with equal vigour, the relation between the number of visa rejections and the hair colour of the visa officer.
The first step, that of Visa counsellors is a cottage industry by itself. The small scale industry that helps people emigrate and ensures that they leave this country for good. (Ironically, increasing prosperity in India, propels an increasing number of students abroad, year on year.) The second step is one with enough intricacy and arcane mystery to defeat any old sherlock holmes story you loved best, the financial documents created by an Indian wishing to emigrate... Oops! Sorry! an Indian wishing to go to the US for higher studies. The third step involves knowing fully well how to pronounce the 'oops!' and 'sorry!' and to never introduce them in the context that I have used in the previous sentence. The fourth step is completely voluntary and more often than not indulged in with a speculative fervour in sync with the land without a Las Vegas: where repressed feelings find a variety of outlets. My favourite, atleast from this day, would be dark brown.
After a few sleepless nights and misplaced attempts at comprehending finance and discovering a new fullform for the acronym BS, I decided to place all my bets on a not-quite-digitally-touched up photograph to scare the interviewer into granting me a visa. Anyways, I reached the vfs office, (my worshipful emulation of this Japanese concept still intact) just in time. Before I could finish the quite steeply charged 150 bucks cup of coffee (which reminds me, coffee with too much sugar tastes as crappy as one without any), we were called to board the bus which was to transport us to the embassy. It was quite an uneventful journey (the only worth mentioning non-event being that I did not have to fight for a window seat with a resourceful five-year old).
At the embassy, I passed through a door where people confused pull with push (quite personifying that eternal dilemma that is every door's destiny). Following this I subjected myself to the indiscreet inspections of a metal detector and was fingerprinted. Digitally. Digital fingerprinting reminded me of the travails I had to undergo at the Indian passport office, first for finding an inkpad and then sqeezing any molecules of ink left on it to my thumb. Digital fingerprinting is better. Much better if the screen is not dirty and the attendant there does not clean your fingers 10 times, forgetting in her earnestness that its the screen that is dirty. I also got a token here, a pink slip with a number, which was to be my identity till the time that this number is called out on the speaker. After getting the token, all I did and all that everyone does is sit quietly, listen carefully and just pray that you don't have to visit the loo anytime soon. Because the number is announced only once.
Nervous and not so nervous faces were scattered in the waiting room. Providence (or rather an anonymous VISA officer), being especially gracious, my token number was called, along with 10 others, before 10 minutes of waiting were over.
10 people make for a long queue, but at the grocer's or the railway counter. It's faster at the US consulate. You get your yes or no in 30 seconds flat. I was fifth in the queue when the BB called me inside.
BB : Hi!
Me: (forgot the good morning M'am I had parotted, and with that, in a chain reaction, forgot a whole lot of other things) Uh.. oh... Hi!
BB: (Smiling) Can you pass your token please ?
Me: (Passed the token, still in a daze, forgot to smile oh.. sure.. as I had practiced)
At this point in time, BB gets my documents out of the envelope that has been given to her. Then gets my form out and stared wide-eyed. Raises her eyebrows. I see her looking at the photograph. As I eliminate the chances of any hair-raising and frightening details on my face, I consider the possible of malicious intentions disfiguring my countenance. I prepare an elaborate answer on how the al-quaida may have had a role any size mismatches of my photograph.
BB: (The raised eyebrows and the wide eyes are followed by a wide wider widest smile) 1570!! You got a wonderful GRE score! Congratulations!
Me: (Feeling quite gratified but at a loss of understanding. I mean, these people are supposed to be some of the rudest on the planet, right.) Thanks!!
BB: So, what degree are you going to go for at Rutgers ?
Me: MS in Electrical and Computer Engg
BB: MS.. (Some guy comes behind her and starts talking with her. I wait for a few seconds). So, who is going to pay for your education.
Me: My parents. (Suddenly remember the lines I had rattofied) My mother and my father.
BB: So, what do they do?
Me: Tell
BB: What is your income ?
Me: Tell
BB: What are you savings ? You must have savings right ?
Me: (No I don't but I especially created them for thsi day!) Tell... If you want, I can show you the documents..
BB: (Starts writing something and waves her hands, as if she does not have time to deal with such petty trivialities)
Me: (feeling relieved at not having to explain something I did not myself understand)
BB: (Starts typing something) Why did you choose Rutgers ?
Me: Its got a wonderful wireless program. I want to specialize in wireless communication....
BB: (Body language interrupts me) Take your I20 please... (Then holds her voice like Amitabh in KBC. The pause continues for some time after which, the eyes behind the spectacles start smiling) Ok! Your Visa has been approved and you will be getting your passport in 2-3 weeks.
Me: (Finally return this smile) Thanks!
I visit the loo after this and experience the fact that US consulate toilets are not very different from other ones.
(Completing this post from IIML. Call it an irony. Call it poetic justice. Btw, only I can understand the latter. So you better refrain from guessing. )
Bluedart delivered my passport today, with a US Visa (F1) for five years. And this Visa followed quite a laborious and to-a-no-end journey of digging through convoluted personal finances, capricious university websites and breezing through 45 seconds of pointless chatting (OK! Not the pointless, but it did not have much of a point to it either). Preparation for visa interview usually entails engaging the (quite needless) services of a Visa counsellor, creating pretty creative balance-sheets, learning by rote a sum total of fifty questions and pursuing with equal vigour, the relation between the number of visa rejections and the hair colour of the visa officer.
The first step, that of Visa counsellors is a cottage industry by itself. The small scale industry that helps people emigrate and ensures that they leave this country for good. (Ironically, increasing prosperity in India, propels an increasing number of students abroad, year on year.) The second step is one with enough intricacy and arcane mystery to defeat any old sherlock holmes story you loved best, the financial documents created by an Indian wishing to emigrate... Oops! Sorry! an Indian wishing to go to the US for higher studies. The third step involves knowing fully well how to pronounce the 'oops!' and 'sorry!' and to never introduce them in the context that I have used in the previous sentence. The fourth step is completely voluntary and more often than not indulged in with a speculative fervour in sync with the land without a Las Vegas: where repressed feelings find a variety of outlets. My favourite, atleast from this day, would be dark brown.
After a few sleepless nights and misplaced attempts at comprehending finance and discovering a new fullform for the acronym BS, I decided to place all my bets on a not-quite-digitally-touched up photograph to scare the interviewer into granting me a visa. Anyways, I reached the vfs office, (my worshipful emulation of this Japanese concept still intact) just in time. Before I could finish the quite steeply charged 150 bucks cup of coffee (which reminds me, coffee with too much sugar tastes as crappy as one without any), we were called to board the bus which was to transport us to the embassy. It was quite an uneventful journey (the only worth mentioning non-event being that I did not have to fight for a window seat with a resourceful five-year old).
At the embassy, I passed through a door where people confused pull with push (quite personifying that eternal dilemma that is every door's destiny). Following this I subjected myself to the indiscreet inspections of a metal detector and was fingerprinted. Digitally. Digital fingerprinting reminded me of the travails I had to undergo at the Indian passport office, first for finding an inkpad and then sqeezing any molecules of ink left on it to my thumb. Digital fingerprinting is better. Much better if the screen is not dirty and the attendant there does not clean your fingers 10 times, forgetting in her earnestness that its the screen that is dirty. I also got a token here, a pink slip with a number, which was to be my identity till the time that this number is called out on the speaker. After getting the token, all I did and all that everyone does is sit quietly, listen carefully and just pray that you don't have to visit the loo anytime soon. Because the number is announced only once.
Nervous and not so nervous faces were scattered in the waiting room. Providence (or rather an anonymous VISA officer), being especially gracious, my token number was called, along with 10 others, before 10 minutes of waiting were over.
10 people make for a long queue, but at the grocer's or the railway counter. It's faster at the US consulate. You get your yes or no in 30 seconds flat. I was fifth in the queue when the BB called me inside.
BB : Hi!
Me: (forgot the good morning M'am I had parotted, and with that, in a chain reaction, forgot a whole lot of other things) Uh.. oh... Hi!
BB: (Smiling) Can you pass your token please ?
Me: (Passed the token, still in a daze, forgot to smile oh.. sure.. as I had practiced)
At this point in time, BB gets my documents out of the envelope that has been given to her. Then gets my form out and stared wide-eyed. Raises her eyebrows. I see her looking at the photograph. As I eliminate the chances of any hair-raising and frightening details on my face, I consider the possible of malicious intentions disfiguring my countenance. I prepare an elaborate answer on how the al-quaida may have had a role any size mismatches of my photograph.
BB: (The raised eyebrows and the wide eyes are followed by a wide wider widest smile) 1570!! You got a wonderful GRE score! Congratulations!
Me: (Feeling quite gratified but at a loss of understanding. I mean, these people are supposed to be some of the rudest on the planet, right.) Thanks!!
BB: So, what degree are you going to go for at Rutgers ?
Me: MS in Electrical and Computer Engg
BB: MS.. (Some guy comes behind her and starts talking with her. I wait for a few seconds). So, who is going to pay for your education.
Me: My parents. (Suddenly remember the lines I had rattofied) My mother and my father.
BB: So, what do they do?
Me: Tell
BB: What is your income ?
Me: Tell
BB: What are you savings ? You must have savings right ?
Me: (No I don't but I especially created them for thsi day!) Tell... If you want, I can show you the documents..
BB: (Starts writing something and waves her hands, as if she does not have time to deal with such petty trivialities)
Me: (feeling relieved at not having to explain something I did not myself understand)
BB: (Starts typing something) Why did you choose Rutgers ?
Me: Its got a wonderful wireless program. I want to specialize in wireless communication....
BB: (Body language interrupts me) Take your I20 please... (Then holds her voice like Amitabh in KBC. The pause continues for some time after which, the eyes behind the spectacles start smiling) Ok! Your Visa has been approved and you will be getting your passport in 2-3 weeks.
Me: (Finally return this smile) Thanks!
I visit the loo after this and experience the fact that US consulate toilets are not very different from other ones.
(Completing this post from IIML. Call it an irony. Call it poetic justice. Btw, only I can understand the latter. So you better refrain from guessing. )
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