Hmmm… so, last week of the year, plenty of things to blog about. I thought of writing about the year gone by (a terrific one at that too), or about the worthless politicians all across the Universe, about the ever so degrading media, among various other things. But you see, politicians, media persons and people holding higher ranks in our society, really don’t give a rat’s ass about what I or you thing about them. So, all the inspiring articles against these people are thrown into this big, giant recycle bin. And then, they right click and “empty recycle bin”. So, I choose not to waste my efforts on them.

So, I write about a little discovery I made, about myself and about the world. You see, I am a person who always looks for positives. Yes, I am always looking for points to make myself feel good. Sometimes, I also want to make myself angry, deliberately. Anger and happiness are two emotions that bring out the best in a person, or at least I believe so.

So, in my quest for happiness, I discovered, the “Big Bad World” is not really that “Bad”. If you attack, it becomes defensive. Every single person is weak inside, with insecurities and secrets so dark that I would be called a racist if I throw “light” on them. I mean people are so lame, that they go to even lamer people, namely fashion designers, to decide which clothes to wear. There’s a sign of weakness apart from zillion others. So, all you have to do is poke fun at the world and the “World will be Weaker”.

If you think I am being cruel, just give it a shot. Making fun of people is the most satisfying thing in the world. More satisfying then eating chocolates, better than having…. ahem ahem… (We are Indians, let’s not talk about ….). No seriously, it’s the best thing on earth, the satisfaction you get after making a fool of the other person… In fact, anger and happiness accentuates humor to its pinnacle.

So, see you in your best humor in 2009, have a great year (and I’m sure you will have a great year if you follow my advice). Until then, Happy New Year and remember, the World is Weaker.

It’s late at night; the winter makes the surroundings so noiseless. Sounds of Pink Floyd from my Winamp fills the room, as I type on…

There’s something about the night that gives us freedom. Hmmm… talking of freedom, how much we like freedom, and exploit it to its limits. We are all caught up in the shackles of freedom.

I was making the promotional video for Mukti ’09, and here’s what Mukti meant to most people, “Freedom”. So, I think to myself what Mukti meant to me… Freedom…yes, Freedom of course. Only a bit more than that. So, here’s a story of how a technical event changed my college life. Here’s my defining moment of 2^nd year. Mukti 2007.

After Youth for Equality, my bonding with the folks in college was elevated. However, I remained just a face in the crowd, who wore fancy clothes to attract others attention. But that was not what I was all about. So, I derived more attention through my orkut profile. In order to seek attention, I digitally manipulated my photographs (OK, Photoshopped them).

I didn’t realize I was killing two birds with one stone (there goes another cliché). My orkut account was catching everyone’s attention, and I actually learnt a lot of Photoshop in the process. So, I was asked to meet a final year student, who designed some posters for some events. I met him, and he wanted me to design a poster for the official Technical Fest of the college. He said there was a team of people who did this, and then they would decide if my poster was good enough or not.

I thought it was a stupid process, and that no one had the right or ability to judge a work of art. So, I never returned with the designs to him.

On my friend’s advice, I also went for the auditions of another club. Again, I thought interviewing me and judging me was neither anyone’s right or in their ability (that belief still stays with me, and I guess I have already proved more than a point or two by now). Anyways, I went to the audition, just for my buddy (who by the way is an ardent follower of this blog). I answered in the negative, to every question that was shot to me. The result was, neither party was satisfied with each other.

And then, one fine day, I was roped in to make a poster for an event which promoted Linux. Now, I really had faint ideas of Linux back then. Anyways, it was to do with software, so, under the supervision of the members of the group, I made my first poster for NIT Durgapur. A dreadful green poster!

Then of course I designed T-shirts, banners, invitation cards, certificates... Soon, I was an integral part of this group which promoted Linux. So, I was promoting Linux. Giving different shapes and sizes to the penguin became my sole purpose of living during those days. And then I made the final Mukti 2007 poster. Hours and hours spent with seniors, in the LUG, who by now had become my best friends, my elder brothers (clichéd again). Somak da, Arko da, Harish da and I cracked jokes all night, and worked for Mukti 2007. We worked for the budgets, publicity, website, poster, decoration, everything.

Mukti 2007 was a big success. The 3 days passed to quickly for me to describe them in words. We all felt satisfied, yet empty after the event was over. Those were sdome of the best times, and I will always remember that moment on the stage, clicking group pictures.

The After-effects:

Mukti 2007 was the reason people recognize my name today. And that’s what I always craved for.

Met some amazing people during Mukti that changed my life forever. (About one of them, I will talk later, in details)

One Mr. Arko Provo Mukherjee of Final year then, the President of LUG, was one such person. He forcibly ordered a drink for me, a Smirnoff Vanilla Twist. Then another. Those two pegs introduced me to a whole new world that I had been missing. I have never stopped drinking since. And the world was also a way better place, with a drink in my hand. So, I thank alcohol for introducing me to a world of freedom. I thank Arko da for introducing me to alcohol. I thank Mukti for introducing me to Arko da. So, all in all, I thank Mukti for my Freedom!

Thank you all for reading such a long post, nothing about Open source though. But I will write about open source, once I know enough about it….

So, finally have time to blog again amidst all the strange things that have been going around for the last few days. Starting from the days leading up to my semester exams, strange experiences have had the better of me, so, I’ll type them down, Shreyank- Style. Here it goes:
1. Just a day before the first exam, acted for a foreign movie. Yes, this time I wasn’t behind the camera. Also got free beer and lunch from the director. (By the way, the movie is going to Sweden).
2. Gasped for every ounce of breath before the Machine Design exam. Prepared for a benign subject, which was supposedly called “Management” or something.
3. After the end of the first 2 exams, we were all in the mood for a celebration. Relieved, we came back to hostel only to find a shocking news, the Mumbai attack. It made everyone sick to our stomachs. I refrained from my daily afternoon activities, and choose to curse the terrorists instead.
4. In the evening, a huge discussion broke out among the “intellects” of our college, over Religion, Love, Terrorism and almost everything under the Sun (actually the moon, since we were all getting drunk at Surabhi, and the alcohol was really taking effect).
5. Ended the night shedding a few tears for the Mumbai victims, and a few for the last days of college (of course, the alcohol was solely responsible for it).
6. The last exams were expected to be run-throughs. However, life at NIT-D is no fairytale. So, as fate would have it, I met with a mutiny. A mutiny that man itself intended to create and it snowballed against man itself. I met with the “ROBOTS”. The last exam was the elective paper, and I had incidentally chosen Robotics. I must say, on hindsight, that Robots are the biggest waste of R&D resources, and are… (I’m lost for words).
Morale of the story: Half my exam was a disaster, and never chooses Robotics again.
7. We celebrated the end of 7th semester as elite people (as only few of us were relieved of our exam burden, most other departments in the college still had another exam left). Then, in the middle of sleep, the thought struck me that I only had another semester left in college. It scared me, so I tried forgetting the thought, and went back to sleep.
8. Celebrated my girlfriend’s birthday on the 5th. Arranged for guitar and friends to sing her “Happy Birthday”. Didn’t go as planned, but it was OK. Has dinner, and it was fun.
9. Then something very shocking happened. (Don’t feel like writing in the blog). It was a great loss to a friend and deeply affected everyone around him, including me. Had to leave college in a manner I had least wanted to. It made me look back at life in a different light. And it left me a heavy heavy heart.
10. Came back at home to find that my phone line was screwed up, so no broadband.

That has been the story in the last few days. Now, I have got a net connection again, so will soon be continuing with my story. Stay tuned in!

Defining Event 1

After the end of 1st year, we had our summer vacations. I went to Bhutan that summer with my family for a well deserved break. When I came back home, I waited for college to open, and I waited, and I waited…
Finally, I was back to NIT-D, a new year, a new hostel (not really new, but new to us) and new roommates. And of course, we would now attend classes in our specialized departments. So, it took my while to adjust to the settings. I mean, my classroom was full of Bhutani people. I’m sure it had nothing to do with me being in Bhutan that summer. I also had to cope with the smoking habits of a particular roommate.
All in all my 2nd year in college was one of the most memorable ones. It changed me for the better. I made some real friends. Shrijit Venkatesh (Venky), Abhiyan Sarkar (Chimpu), Pritam Biswas, Nabyendu Mondal and avishek Ray (Chunu) to name a few.
The 2nd year could be classified into 3 defining events, interspersed with zillions of priceless moments.
So, keep reading…

The best way to start this would be with a flowery piece of poetry. However, I'm very bad at it, and so wouldn't give it a shot. I will talk about poetry though. Poetry in Motion, that is. Yes, I have been following this form of poetry since 1992.
Well, this is my story about a story, which will forever be etched in history. OK, I'm talking about my inspiration, my idol and my GOD, Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar. Yes, nothing new or unusual, he means to me what he might mean to millions of others. That makes this even more so important.
Today, when he has broken all possible batting records, I won't be talking about his achievements. Everyone already knows that. Being the self-centered person that I am, I would talk about how he has effected my life, and 'I' represent millions of people.
I first watched Sachin against zimbabwe, in the 1992 World Cup. He had scored a half century. I obviously had no interest in cricket at the age of 6, but somehow, sachin's batting was a visual treat even then. Obviously, as I got older, I wanted to be a cricketer, like everyone else. And I copied Sachin's style, copying his stance in front of the mirror. And, with time, without my realisation, I became Sachin. Yeah, I was Sachin. Everytime he went out to bat, it was as if it is me out there. His failures were mine, and his success too. Infact, sometimes, scoring a 90% in Science meant the same as Sachin scoring a century. On his off days, it was hard for me to eat, or sleep. Yeah, as if I was Sachin himself. And that part of me still exists, if only to a lesser extent. Infact, there was a time when I wished my parents had named my Sachin, and I even wished I had curly hair. It was amazing, at that time Sachin's record was not extra-ordinary. Yet, I followed him like mad, and so did others. Its like I can relate every incident of my life with a Sachin Moment.
Still remember his 1st ODI century, on a soggy outfield in Colombo, against the Aussies, in the Singer Cup. Obviously, he didn't look back since. I watched that match at my maternal grandparents' home.
So, when I call him God, its not wrong. He has been my inspiration throughout. And for how do you know the clay idols you worship even exist or not... I know for sure that this idol of mine not only exists, but makes his presence felt...

Thank you for the wonderful moments!!!

OK, here's the deal. I've found out that no one really reads my blog. I spend hours typing away for nothing. So, I guess, I'll use this as a personal diary, since no really reads it. I'll vent out my frustrations, and share moments of joys, with my "Secret Diary". In case you are reading this and wondering about the 100 odd visitors, they are all me, I mean I visit this blog regularly (unlike you or any others). So, taking a breather from the story, I'll write about my experience in the past few days.
Well, the significant event this week was my visit to the dentist. I had thought of naming the title "Dentist the Tormentist", but "Tormentist" is not a word (Tormentor is the correct word, in case you were wondering). Anyways, I was very nervous going to the dentist to get my Root Canal Treatment done. Initially, they were going to use a syringe for the Anesthesia of the gum region. From past experiences of Anesthesia, I had "faint" memories, as it had left me "numb". (Seems the guys from Linkin Park have regular visits to their dentist). Anyways, to my surprise, a beautiful lady came up to me with a syringe, and said, "Don't worry, it won't hurt". She was the doctor! Wow, she was hot, and in her doctor attire, she looked, what was the word, yeah, "kinky". And guess what it, it didn't hurt. I was left mesmerised, and so was my gum and tooth region (due to the injection).
Anyways, luck soon ran out, and so did the electricity in the Doc's chamber. And when it came back, it was her husband's (who is also a dentist) turn to do his "drills". It was a horrifying experience, as he kept "playing on my nerves". Actually, he had a driller and he made a hole and removed the nerves connected to the tooth, thus pacifying my pain. But it didn't hurt, only the thought was disgusting. And a while, he asked me to spit out the blood. As I spat, he took out his spat-tulla and did something with it, I don't remember. After an hour or so, I was done, and I finally came out a relieved man and was very "sa-teeth-fied". So, my Canine is Fine!

So, will end this blog soon (not so fast). Must thank Zaheer Khan for his great performance with bat, ball and microphone. He was really funny at the press conference yesterday. Was very heartening to see the "fab Four" still putting up a fight. Sachin rules, and so does our Dada. Will be heading back to college tomorrow morning. So, untill then, goodbye, and yes, my story will resume.
Keep Blogging!

8 months and 109 slaps later, the caterpillars were given the wings to fly, by our 'generous' seniors. It was an April night, and all of us were asked to assemble at the hall 4 terrace (that's where the final years stayed, that's where we stay now, ironically). We knew this was our last last time. And then the moment arrived, one of the seniors, after his speech, announced, "You are Free". Those three words can give any other combination of 3 words in the English Language, a stiff competition. We all hugged, everyone, all the bitterness evaporated. It all seemed like a new world now, a new planet. Funny, we were all enlightened in near pitch darkness. Yes, It was a happy ending. Oh, wait, ending??? It was the beginning....
The next morning I had to pinch myself to make sure everything was for real. Yes, all of us from 'Bongaon' zone dressed up their best, and went to college, feeling as if we owned the place. (Oh, yes, by the way, that is the name of our zone, 'Bongaon Zone', no, the 'Royal Bongaon Zone', is, and always will). The freshers party followed, it was at Durgapur House. The seniors were all strangely different that day, so much so, that I forgave them for all their sins in a moment. And yes, later there was alchohol, that too in plenty. The 'drinking sessions were held at Hall 3 mess, and I complied with my policy of 'no drinking, no smoking'. Inspite of being forced, I did not drink. Chimpu was funny as usually, drunk with a neck brace. The GPL competition followed, and we, the first years, were 'Welcomed to the College'.
PS: I carried a drunk Souvik Ray back to his room, and tried to control all the other drunk people. I thought to myself, "This is disgusting, why do these morons drink?"

We would all return to college after the pujas, expecting a reception that I would not particularly be fond of. It was the very first night after the return to college. It was an event that would change my perceptions towards life (in general) forever. This senior comes up to me and dislocates me from my "comfort zone" (only those who know me would understand the pun). What followed was "Baptism by Fire", as put by one Avishek Ray.
Well, here's the scenario:
NIT Durgapur (former RE College) was famous for 'Ragging', among other things. The whole thing was executed as an 'Organised Crime', like the mafia, or a terrorist organisation. (Mind you, these were my thoughts in the winter of 2005, but I still stand by most of them). And yes, the system (the Ragging system that is) was almost impeccable (I'm talking 2005, again). The whole student fraternity was divided into zones (some called it 'Family', lovingly). Each state was a zone. But Bengal being the home state, had 50% of the population. So, Bengal was further divided into small pieces. Thus, the 'organised crime' was really organised. Each senior from a zone would take care of its juniors, and thus a vicious cycle.
As luck would have it, I would land up in a zone that’s a bit too 'violent', to put it mildly. The seniors were all 'cheeky', thus our cheeks would always bear their brunt.

Anyways, back to my story (yeah, true story), I was asked to visit the seniors hostel, and when I returned, my friends and I, all were astonished at my facial structure. Yes, I had had the beating of a lifetime, and was defenseless, as the merciless seniors enjoyed the impact of their palms on my jaws, sometimes eyes, nostrils... (For my face, it was a 'Palm resort'). And I wished I had done something, but I had no choice, but get slapped for doing nothing at all. They did because their seniors did it to them, and also that it would 'help' us later or whatever. I hated every one of them, still hate most of them. They had no business laying their hands on me for nothing. How was it supposed to help me? I made a promise to myself that I'd never do what they did to me. And, I've kept my promise ever since. What I also made sure was to lie to these seniors as much as possible.
The only good thing that came out was my score stood at 31. 31 slaps, one night.
Anyways, there is nothing to write about the torturous nights that followed. Except, an escapade with my roommates to Benachity. We saw a semi-naked Miss Monica gyrating to the beats of 'Sharara Sharara' at a basti festival. Still remember the expression of Shibbu's face.
The torture continued, but we found real friends in hard times. We all went through the same pain, and unity prevailed. I felt like we were some 'Jihadis' fighting for our 'cause' and something good would come out of it. It really was a bitter experience for me, and though some had a heart to take it lightly in good humor, I found no fun or humor in hitting others. But yes, these optimists made the road easier to travel. Soyinka was everyone's favorite, ours too. We all looked up to him and how nicely he would handle things. Chimpu was another, with a broken neck, a neck-brace, he still had the heart to take everything in his stride with a smile. That was the beauty of it all. Strange how the mind gets used to pain, and then you start enjoying it. But never enjoyed getting hit. And yes, my views about ragging are still intact. But somehow, down the years, I have also realized the importance of it all. But I still don’t believe in the physical aspect of it all. Maybe it’s just my thoughts, and I’m sure my friends think otherwise, but that’s that…

Good evening readers, another Durga Puja just faded away tonight, and I'm in the comfort of my living room, in retrospection. Yes, it was the Puja back in 2005...
Watergate
Our mid-semester exams were coming to an end, and I was just getting used to the college life. It was the night before the last exam, maths, and I heard some noises upstairs. I came out of my room, so did a few others, and as we looked up, we saw people upstairs having a 'splash'. Holy lord, it was the good 'ol water-fight.
Back in hall 9, everyone had a territory, and had friends within that group. However, the water-gates were opened, it knew no boundaries. With only one more exam between us and Durga Pujas, almost everyone joined in. Only a few chose to hide. I was just looking around, and suddenly, I was ambushed from behind. It was the boy well-known as "Chimpu". And, you'll get to read a lot about him later. But there he was, drenching me, and my old Reliance phone. I joined in too, and had a lot of fun. Only next morning I realised I had forgotten about my old Phone, who had breathed its last breath, during mid-night sometime.
The Puja
Guys, I hate cliches, but they are true (is that a cliche too?). With time, I realised, how different points of time and yield such varying results, keeping all the other conditions the same. (Too confusing?) Ok, here's the deal, as I move back and forth from 2005 to 2008, I realise how things have changed.
So, it was 2005, Durga Puja.Well, yes, I got a new phone, with camera and all, and I use it till date. But that's not my topic of discussion. I had so many friends, school friends, locality friends, tution friends. And yeah, almost forgot, college friends. (Notice, they were last in the list). And yes, we had so much fun that year. Maddox square was hustling and bustling. We even met some seniors there, and they were suprisingly different there.
So, zoom, back to 2008. I still have a lot of friends. I mean a lot. There are college friends, and college friends and then there are college friends, and of course my school friends are there, and then there are college friends, but the others have all vanished, to all corners of the World.
But hey, there are still my college friends!
And yes, this year too there was fun, food, drinks (read hard). But somehow, there was emptyness. This was my last Durga Puja with my college friends...

Day 0
It was the terrace of hall 9, around 12:30 at night. Sayan, Sourish, Anirban and I had found ourselves the best place for "adda". We were the people from FIITJEE, all one year droppers, and now in NIT Durgapur. Anirban was here last year too, but had left for the IIT bait. It was a strange night away from home for the first time. And there it stood at a very short distance, Hall 3, the seniors' hostel, their prying eyes, and stories flying around in Hall 9 about the torture they'll put us through. But we drew comfort from the fact that we were well 'guarded' and no senior could enter hall 9. We talked into the night, way too deep into the night... When I came back to my room, my room-mates were asleep (as the next day was the first day of college). So, without having the oppurtunity to know much about my room-mates, I headed for sleep too... (and, yes, I believe there were a few attempts by a few seniors to 'interact' with us at night, but proved futile, thanks to the guards. But I'm not sure, maybe I was just dreaming..)
Day 1
We were all 'dressed' up and ready to head for the college. Some 400 odd of us, all guarded by security, as if we were prisnors. We were all escorted to the Insti building by security guards. The most surreal experience I've had (that was upto then, without me knowing that more was to follow). That was the highest point of the day, as I have no recollection what happened in class. Oh, wait, actually I do. I entered (I think it was LH12) and saw these older big girls sitting. Oh, my heart just sunk to the bottom of my feet. These were the 'college chicks' I had always dreamed of. God couldn't possibly have been so cruel.
Anyways, I came back to my room, and had my first real interaction with my room-mates (who were also my classmates). Shivshanker Verma, from Kanpur and Ganesh Rajak from Durgapur were both from Mechanical Engg. (same as me) and Somnath Sarkar, from my City of Joy, was going to be a Computer Science Engineer, but before that, he engineered something else, along with his accomplice, Anirban Das. He engineered a nickname for me, which has stuck to me eversince, "Jua". Yes, "Jua" they called me. Apparently my signature on my 'trunk' read "Jua" instead of "Jha". And so, Jua it was... Jua it is.
As Days Went
And since then, the nicknames continued to flow, Somnath was "Sammy", Anirban Das was "Ani", Anirban Guha was"Ban" (we'll come to him later) and Shivshanker was "Shibbu".
(There were other famous nicknames which I will come to when the time is right.)
So, that was life in hall 9. We couldn't go out anywhere but to the college building. No Jeans, T-shirts. Just finding new people, all different from others, and the "adda" on the terrace with the FIITJEE gang. And during those addas, seniors would come to pay visit, and we would have the bird's eye view from the terrace. And then we found a big chaos downstairs. Later we were informed that someone had spit on the seniors from the terrace. And the seniors were boiling with rage. There were so many speculations, rumours of the consequences that would follow...
But the consequences were inevitable, this way or that way...
My interaction with the seniors was not a fairytale, but its something I remember everything about. So, I'll spare another day for it... untill then... keep blooging!

It was the month of August in 2005. This boy, very confident and awesome, joins this Engineering college, about which he has very little idea about. Undeterred by the reputation of the college as being slightly violence-oriented, he steps on the hallowed turf on the 4th of August. Staying away from home for the first, but that doesn't bother him much, as he knows, a new world awaits him. And what a new World it turned out to be.
The often talked about violence was sometimes too much for him to take. He's own persona of himself had taken a battering. Funny how a new environment produces strange and unwanted results. He wished he'd runaway, and never comeback. This place turned out to be a prison, a sanitarium. And he didn't care much about his fellow prison mates either. In times of hardship, he had become self-centered.
But his term in the prison would end one day, and he would become free. The rest, as they say, is history. The boy would later find his ground, humour, recognition, true friends, lessons, love, memories, dreams... and what not.
Later he would go on to post his experience on a blog. As is obvious by now, the boy (though by now he believes he has turned from the boy to 'The Man') is yours truly, and the place, the place he will never forget... NIT Durgapur.
Last few months have been like a dream to me. And so, I've finally figured out the content of my blog. See, I'm a dreamer, I dream all the time, and sometimes everything works out fine. Good things happen, somethings I don't even dream about. So, join me as I share my dreams, my experiences in the dreamland...