Enchanted by the Bamboo Flute and its Devotee

The maestro of the bamboo flute, the magician with the hollow stick, one of the greatest flutists of the century Pandit Hariprasad Chaurasia had an unbelievable connection with Odisha.

The Allahabad born UP boy took his first tutelage from Pt. Bholanath inspired by whom he shifted to flute. He had his first job in his late teens in AIR Cuttack, which brought him so close to Odisha and its culture.

When I agreed to volunteer for SPIC MACAY, I knew I will get chance to meet and interact with such artiste but never imagined such an evening.

In his heavenly Vrindavan Gurukul situated behind the Khandagiri hills, in a silent neighbourhood lived quite a few blessed souls who worshipped flute and were tutored by the greatest of teachers.
A special recital was arranged for Pandit Ji to interact with students and youth. SPIC MACAY in association with NALCO arranged event with just 200 students allowed. All SPIC MACAY Chapters were allotted few seats and IIT Bhubaneswar got 20 seats.

I knew this from a month ago and spread a word throughout the music enthusiasts and SPIC MACAY volunteers.
I got a bus arranged for the event. Arranging bus to go for a concert was a rare feat but I have done quiet a few firsts until now in IIT BBS.
But the juniors ditched again. I was expecting 15 and just 11 turned up. Facing the boulder of unexpected absence we started off to the special recital at Vrindavan Gurukul.

After couple of wrong turns and U-turns we reached the serene school of flute. The recital was outdoor in a lawn carved out like an Open Air Theatre. Accompanying Pandit ji on tabla was Shubanker Banerjee, and Pandit Ji had a senior student of his for support, an Israeli named Amosh.

Irony or tragedy of Indian cultural art forms evidently comes out in situations like this when foreigners are seen respecting and loving, mastering the art much more than its own citizens.

The maestro kissed his bamboo stick and a melody flowed out. It was raga Madhubani to start with. He was in a great mood and interacted with kids, asking them about music and rhythm.

It was a great treat to watch him play a melody on flute and quickly a kid from SAI International School recognizing the raga to be Hamsadhwani. Pandit Ji was in jovial mood of all and wanted to interact more and more with the kids. He asked someone to volunteer and a small Bengali girl jumped on and sang ‘Payoji Maine’ mesmerizing even Pandit Ji.

A young lad from XIMB sang an alap and left the crowd gaping with the harmonics of his voice.
Pandit Ji was happily interacting and answering questions as he talked in length about bamboo sticks used for making flute and the stories of people offering him golden flute to play.
He talked about the current Bollywood and cinematic music trends; the embarrassing times when his students ask him to teach them ‘Lungi Dance’ for parties.

The evening ended with Krishna Karthik, our General Secretary So-cult asking Pandit Ji for a final rendering of Khamaj raga on flute. He serenaded with the music disseminating in the ambient air.

There were very few people so we had all time to meet him and get clicked with him. Babita Mam of SPIC MACAY had a chat with me and gave me some souvenirs to give to Pandit Ji and Shubhankar Sir. We all went later and got clicked in leisure, and also had a free chat with the maestro himself.

It was experience of a lifetime to be standing with such a renowned talent, a self-made man, one of the greatest flutist of his times. It was an evening to remember forever.           

AGHAAZ, curtain riser ALMA FIESTA

When beauty meets attitude a star is born.

The platform of Aghaaz- the Cultural Theme Show of IIT Bhubaneswar was one such arena. The handsome hunks and lovely ladies from colleges all around Bhubaneswar set the stage ablaze as the curtain riser event of Alma Fiesta 2014 rolled out at Reliance Trendz, Shaheed Nagar.

Aghaaz- the Cultural Theme Show was a prelude event to Alma Fiesta 2014, the annual socio-cultural fest of IIT Bhubaneswar. The cultural theme show was an effort by team Alma Fiesta to bring the glamour of the youth and the colours of culture together.

With over fifty participants from various colleges, Aghaaz was one of its kinds. The show was judged by eminent faces of fashion world, Shagoon Satpathy; a popular name in Mumbai for creativity in fashion and an actor himself. Amongst other judges were Chabbi Mahali winner of Navy Queen 2007; an actress in Odiya movies and an active member in the drive for uplifting tribals. Accompanying her was Sunita Garabadu, one of the state’s top anchors in television and an actress herself.

The event was being hosted by Dhananjay and Surbhi of IIT Bhubaneswar who carried the audience through a thoroughly entertaining event. The competition had three different rounds of casual wears, formal wears and party wears with question-answer round at the end. Each round was followed by elimination.

The crowd was kept hooked up to the show as in between the mesmerising ramp walk of models there were small competitions. A small game ‘Jaane tu ya jaane na’ brought out the essence of friendship present in the crowd. The Dance Society of IIT Bhubaneswar won many hearts as they hit the floor to the party beats. The crowd joined in with them and festivity began as Aghaaz, prelude Alma Fiesta 2014 turned out to be a complete entertainer.

The event serenaded with the winners Bidya Misra of OEC and Svetlana Mahapatra of IIIT Bhubaneswar being crowned Mr Alma Fiesta and Miss Alma Fiesta. The winners received gifts worth seven thousand rupees including a portfolio being made by Cliquers Group. The gifts of the evening were sponsored by VLCC. Team Alma Fiesta also thanked their associate sponsors Honda, IMS and UCO Bank for their support.

Following the successful beginning to another edition Alma Fiesta 2014 scheduled to be from January 10^th to 12^th is being anticipated to be a complete package of fun. Once again Alma Fiesta, IIT Bhubaneswar has kept up to its motto, redefining festivity.

   

All that is good or bad ends

You know, all those instances when you have an epiphany, for a moment you think, Eureka! I have found the truth, one of the absolute ones but a minute later you realize it’s just an adage which somehow your sub-conscious fed you as a Deja-vu. Yeah, I just had one of those. So it has been raining cats and dogs here and the chill during the morning is not all that pleasant when I think of taking bath and thus I get myself a bucket full of steaming hot water. The sheer joy that I get while pouring each bit of the water is much like the tender rays of morning sun in winters. It’s warm, oh yes it is warm and caring not blatant but strong enough to fight the cold. It’s also like a compendium of springs of past all put altogether. I remembered my mother, in that one fine summer morning when she was running behind me to get me dressed up for school and there were these most warm parathas that were waiting for me. But even before the bucket was half empty, I started to have grief that it would soon end and all I’ll have will be the chill of the rain. All that springs of childhood is long gone.
In that moment, that short-lived moment, I had the epiphany. Anything that is good or bad, that is dead or alive, that is material or idea has an inevitable destiny to meet. That it will end, is sure. And what I have at hand is me, young, oh yes young and exhilarating but soon will this end. Don’t take me as a cynic but I am not sure what to take out of this, is ‘moving on’, man’s righteousness? Sure it is that of the dead because they don’t have a choice.
You know, what else is like summer? Raghav Sachar’s Gulaabi Aankhein. I have been listening to it as I was writing this piece and highly recommend it. Best part, you can always replay it! No end to that!

Not Just Another Friday at IIT Bhubaneswar.

Inspite of our personal favourite debate on the irony behind Women Empowerment programmes (I’m pro, just in case you were wondering), the Workshop held this Friday on the topic felt as fresh and impactful as it could be. The speeches and the videos probably had the desired effect it could have asked for, but what stole the evening’s limelight was the cultural programme that followed it. From the Dance Society’s medley, to the Music society’s melody and the Dramatics Society’s portrayal of the malady, the evening turned out to be a HUGE success. I mean, literally, huge. The auditorium was filled with more than it could accommodate, for which we should maybe thank the High Tea arrangement. But even if it was the food that made the calling heard, the cultural societies must be grateful that they were watched. And appreciated, for that matter.

The evening’s first programme, the dance, was a pleasant variation from the usual matter (of girls’ dance that is) that we have been made used to in the last 2 years that I’ve been here. The choreography was beautiful, the song choices were good, and the boys paired with the girls couldn’t have been any more cuter. Just the one suggestion though, please have the costumes fit done before the show. None of the girls were looking comfortable in that horrendously tangerine thing. Thankfully, the overall performance more than made up for it. So, cheers for the feat.

Next, the music. It is funny how before every music production, the whole audience is filled with the only chatter, “This sound check is going to take forever.” Pleasantly, this time it didn’t. At least relatively. The songs that followed were nice to listen to, but the music society had definitely seen better performances than that. Remember the Independence Day performance? That was more like it. But, they delivered the message the evening had been set up for, with some lovely, lovely songs, and for that we are thankful.

The Stage Play, Humne Kuch Nai Dekha, basically stood out to be the star of the whole evening. The direction, the acting and the whole screenplay, deserved great applause. The use of the lightings on the harassment scenes, and the imagery of the female destroying the root cause of the violence that held the reins of the society, was beautifully executed, though a teeny-tiny bit amiss was the background score that should have supported the tandava dance. But that little mistake can be dusted off, thanks to the wonderful execution of the whole play. Kudos to the Dramatics Society on that.

The programme ended with the food of course, the call that was heard. I don’t know how it was, cause I didn’t wait in that ridiculously long queue that you met right out the door of the auditorium, but it did the wonder that none of the however well managed cultural society programmes could do. Filling the auditorium up. Have a good day.

WHEN SLOPPY GOT LUCKY

The Sunday rolled out in a customary manner when I was rolling on my bed with my mind being pulled into reality by my stupid roomies having their early morning chat. Both of them had to go out for a meeting to which even I should have gone. I had already spent my Saturday in GRAND Masti, Pizza Hut and football; so was really not in mood to commit for something which I can afford to miss.

So I had my Sunday breakfast of Dosa with sugar and sat to study. Yes, blame it on my friends or approaching test on Tuesday; I sat to study.

I quite sincerely studied till afternoon, with Facebook running alongside giving company. Well it was afternoon and I thought to order food from outside but with recent outings and expenses, I curtailed my belly’s crying out.

I went to play football and was expecting a match practice today as it was the last practice before mid-semester. As expected after a good long basic work out session we started a match.

I don’t want to take names here but off late I going to football field had become a useless ritual. I still love football and enjoy playing but sometimes you reach a point where you almost give up the attempt to excel. I don’t know why but that feeling had started coming. Seeing juniors younger than me going ahead of me and the sight of me sitting on bench with juniors playing in near future often sends a chill down my spine. I can’t help it or maybe I can but I don’t want to. I played shit today; sloppy like hell. I played worse than most of my competitors on the field. Being beaten by a striker 3-4 times in a half hour game is nothing short of a day of embarrassment for a centre back like me. I was embarrassed, sad and felt like shit.

I came back to room and quickly went up to take a shower avoiding any conversation with my fellow team mates which would remind me of my performance. I didn’t eat snacks in mess as I was planning to go for the Engineer’s Day event and eat High Tea.

I changed and left for the event. I had someone to meet there so I went little early. I had expected the quiz to have started but fortunately or unfortunately it had not. The prize money Rs.1500 had pulled in enough crowd on a Sunday, that too a week before mid-semester. I sat behind in last row with 3^rd year Telugu gang. The quiz started and so did our comments. In a sporty mood I asked Manas to take part and seeing Rs.1500 prize money he also agreed to participate.   

Qualifying round started up and we had to answer ten questions. The questions were tough enough that I didn’t know most of it, but easy enough that Manas could answer 5-6.

I was in my check-capris and slippers. Sitting below the AC I was freezing.  The results were going to be announced for 4 selected teams to come up on stage. I was still freezing so I quietly found a hot corner spot and took my chair there. I took off my slippers and sat cross legged on the chair to watch the up-coming quiz comfortably. I was about to switch on my phone when I heard on the speakers, “the winners are, first team is Sai Manas and Abhinav Krishnan”.

I couldn’t stop grinning. I told Sai Manas that I don’t want to go but he said with his heavy accented Hyderabadi english “come on dude!”

I was feeling stupid but lucky; and moreover I was stunned at my luck. It felt like some sort of garbage of misfortune piling up on me. I was sure of being embarrassed on stage. I was going up on stage for a Technical quiz. The statement was an embarrassment in itself.

I was again feeling stupid on stage but later when all four teams were up on the stage. The competition felt even. It was lack of quality in crowd that brought us on stage not luck.

The quiz started and most of the questions bounced on all 4 team tables and went to audience.

The lady luck started smiling at us when Manas got an easy one and we opened our account. The quiz went on and lady luck literally sat with me on this one. It was question regarding a Roman emperor, his amulet and the famous word he used on it for protection from disease. Though history was my field of interest, this one bounced off. It was then that Revant, the quiz-master gave a clue; the word had 11 letters.

  After reading Da Vinci’s code I have started playing a lot with words and I played well with this question when out of the blue I presented the answer ABRACADABRA.

Lady luck kept giving us kisses when easiest of guesses like Bill Gates for anything on Microsoft and Android versions on picture of sweets fetched us points;   points which sailed us all the way to victory.

Yes! We won. From sitting and commenting on last row we ended up winning the cash prize. It was crazy stuff and I was quite literally bowled over by the behaviour of lady luck. Since when did lady luck have a thing for me?

The sad part of the day was after the jubilant victory I didn’t get high tea because I don’t break line and by the time I reached Bhaina following queue, the food was over.

Well what to do. Such is life dearies.

 

A Breeze from IIT Kharagpur

It’s a dream of every aspiring engineer to end up in IIT; India’s most prestigious technical college and one of the producers of the world’s brightest engineers. But when a student after cracking IIT-JEE with a not so ‘flashy’ rank aspires for a core branch and ends up in one of the “new” IITs, all he or she wishes is if they could have scored a little more in JEE and ended up with some course in the “real old” IITs.

The impact on me was profuse when I being a student of one of the “new” IITs visited IIT Kharagpur, the oldest and the biggest of the IITs. The half-a-century old college made me fall in love with it on the first sight.  It was a cold December night when we landed in world's longest railway station; Kharagpur. We had gone to participate in Inter IIT sports meet. They sent a huge cargo truck to carry our luggage and a bus to ferry us. The first impression was not really the best impression.

The better came when we saw their hostels. It was an expanse of corridors and rooms with washrooms only rarely visible destinations at the end of the long corridors. Surely in this matter our hostels had an edge.

The next amazing sight was their mess. It was well maintained, huge, organised and one of them even had a television set (well now that you can argue to be a luxury).
As we went further we saw buildings with departments written on them in grand fashion. I stood between Departments of Humanities and Architecture and thought that’s all my college has; two small buildings. With sights of each department buildings coming up, each began hitting my mind and heart as boulders rolling down from a mountain. By the time we reached the huge Nehru Museum, which was behind the academic section, my mind was in a dizzy and my legs were trembling. I was caught in total despair and disgust as to why I took the core branch in the new IIT, why I didn’t take any ‘not-so-famous’ course and get into some ‘real’ IIT.

Our hearts truly filled up with envy and over whelmed with amazement when we took a night stroll, through the lanes of IIT KGP. With lush greenery, abundance of open spaces, numerous cheap and delicious food joints, subsidised ‘Café Coffee Day’; the place astonished me at every step.

The sports facilities were immense. Their ‘Technology’ Gymkhana building had more badminton courts than our whole college. They had grounds for practice in couplets all over the campus with separate small practice places in each ‘hall’ (which is what they called their hostels).

 They had a market area called ‘Tech Market’ which was another place to be seen. It had everything required for household and everything a student would require, and prices there were hell low.

          Another notable observation was that every shop there had a complete section exclusively for ‘sutta’. It was like a customary item for them, mandatory for them to survive.

         At night time every girls’ hostels’ nearby ‘lonely corners’ used to be occupied with love birds. Beneath overgrown trees and in dark corners where street lights can’t reach, they use to crouch down to have fun. I heard that every well-built college had such areas. I couldn’t think of one in ours (maybe I will discover one when I have to!).

         Now the final thing I saw which pushed my mind into turmoil was the academic section. The ‘Insti’ building was magnificent with a foundation stone on which was written-“laid by Sir Jawahar Lal Nehru in March 1952”.

But what to do such are life dearies………  

(to be continued……)   

Bhubaneswar Diaries

After my JEE counselling and seat allotment, internet told me it’s IIT Bhubaneswar where my destiny lies. With high hopes, I set out for the city of Bhubaneswar.  A city relatively unknown to me. A city with no acquaintances or relatives. A city unknown, language unknown, culture unknown. To be frank, I landed up here as a complete alien. The only thing that I had with me was my admission letter and broken Hindi. The story begins here. Transformation. Rather, Evolution.

I would like to give a small rewind to my childhood. I would like to break it into three parts... Born to a hardcore leftist family, I grew up hearing ballads of communist heroics. Baptized in leftism, the whole atmosphere was such that we were all part of the revolution to change the entire system and to create a socialist paradise. That’s the political part. The next part is food. Back home, a week's diet had a wide range of delicacies. From prawns, fish, beef, chicken, vegetables....well that’s a long list. Vegetables and fish have a really long sub lists within them. And the best part, at least for me, was the coconut oil that gave aroma and flavour to all the food I had in my life. The last and final part. The freedom I was in search of. To think freely, act freely, live freely. 

Now about the twist in my life. It’s a 360 degree twist. I came here expecting a twist but the twist was worse than what even Christopher Nolan could imagine. For the dinner, a plate ended up before me leaving me the choice of what to eat. Everything smelled different and even tasted different. Then the twist begins. To the comments that food smelled and tasted differently, I got a stunning reply" I have heard that you cook with hair oil". Then came to fact that coconut oil is not a universal oil. I started lamenting about having no beef for months, which was not even available in a thousand kilometre radius.  Non-vegetable became ‘only chicken’. 

In the political part, I met people who had no clue about Che (Guevara). Back home, he was god. For people who still have never heard of Che, he is a famous Latin American revolutionary, respected and admired across the world. Che was hailed as messiah of the downtrodden. Now they are asking who is Che? All the ideology that I lived for turned out to be completely alien stuff for the majority. Some people even laughed at me. Even now they do that. 

After all these twists, I started living the life enjoying the twists within. But in plain English, we all have twists within our destiny.  It’s a great experience to wonder about the twists in life; especially when you write about it in the later part of your life.

Down the Same Road

I introduce myself as a third year student of the Dept. of Electrical Engineering, enrolled in the four year B-Tech program in the School of Electrical Sciences in Indian Institute of Technology, Bhubaneswar. My audience is mesmerised, I am after all a student from the elitist league of technical institutes, the best they say, I say, the country offers. I am proud, my family is, and my friends are. They have always been, because I maintained the “elitist” record all through my formal education. Competition is a word I learnt before I gathered confidence, and learnt the word success before I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. Had to outdo the rest, had to covet the Outstanding Student Award every session, and had to be the best; I understand now, it was what you would call the local best. I marked my own fence peering at how others did theirs. I thought I was gritty enough to sustain the competition, I understand I just had been lucky the competition sustained me.

Life within the hall of fame is a disappointing study; cracking the Joint Entrance Examination was a hallowed ambition, yet here is the first time most of us debate our education system. Here is when we peep into the “pen-sieve” and often find, we have not asked ourselves the right questions. On one of my regular visits to a nearby school, I come across a sulking girl, who on other sunny days is as exuberant as kids should be. She tells she is ashamed to go home because her scores have been poor in a paper; her marks have always been her confidence. I then come across a chattering bunch of todds, and begin a conversation on what they want to be when they grew taller, stronger and sharper. It’s a mix of answers, one who fancies being a geek and work as a scientist, one who wants to paint, one an engineer. These were answers me and my friends gave too, back in the days of tiny benches and building blocks. I am sceptical, how many can cling onto their interests where it is a daily struggle to fight for more marks. Then the bell rings, everyone is reluctant to leave their game and go back into classes. They all sigh, I sigh too. All this when children are the most receptive to learn new things and the best ones to ponder. Show them foam or bubbles from a boiling tube, you can feel their awe. I say this because we felt it too.

But why do we suddenly have something to say in the new found debate of our education system, why now? The early years of our technical education is spent by most waddling clueless, because our coaching institutes did not encourage us to ask ourselves, “What after?”, and we did not ask. I bet a lot of us have lost our inquisitiveness, or for that matter the very interest in technical education. May be because we don’t have a thing to die for now. And, unfortunate that only a trophy will incite us, if at all.