9/11 - Another year goes by..

We were huddled around the table for a post-dinner discussion when our Muscat brought up friend Tina (fondly called muscat-biscuit) received an sms. Her American friend claimed that an airplane had hit the World Trade Center in New York!!

It sounded outrageously unbelievable to us students living in a remote village in Allahabad, India. I suggested that she sms back that Taj Mahal had melted away due to acid rains.

Her friend was getting angry by now because we were not taking him seriously. We turned on the old TV in the dining hall to confirm and yes, news channels were reporting that planes had indeed hit the WTC.

This single incident had shocked the world and made life come to a grinding halt. More terror attacks were to follow like the London bombings, Mumbai hotel attacks etc..

Terror attacks are no more a surprise since it's so frequent despite increased safety measures. It is an unsettling feeling knowing that terror can strike anywhere.

At times, it seems as though we are fighting a hidden enemy...or as some may put it - an enemy within. Every anniversary of 9/11 is a chilling reminder of this axe looming overhead waiting to squash its prey.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

This is a common question faced by children around the world. As a child, I was always perplexed by this query.

I had clear goals for my life during my student days. It was not always constant. However, I always strived for some form of acheivement.

I still have not reached anywhere I had envisioned myself to be. In the process, I have realized that life is very unpredictable. It takes you on a wild ride to unimaginable destinations.

My life is a journey full of surprises. I got many undeserved blessings. I also have many regrets that I am desperately trying to ammend.

I was always the studious type in school. I was a model student in many ways. I was anxious to learn and willing to travel the extra mile.

My diligence was rewarded with good grades and many certificates of academic merit. I travelled to distant locations for my college education. I finished the course with an excellant academic record despite the difficult conditions.

I managed to secure an admission to a specialized course in a very good institution. This institution provided the ideal conditions for relaxed learning.

The teaching was not according to the traditional means. It was more like exploring the frontiers of the field of study. The entire process was a discovery that led to new ways of thinking.

My first job was with a very reputed educational organization operating in a niche area. I was not very happy to do some routine duties. I found it boring and unproductive.

Subsequently, I moved on to one of the metros in India for a new opportunity. I got a job profile which didn't have many boundaries.

It was in tune with my line of specialization. It was exciting to be part of the knowledge centre of the company. Besides, I loved researching the strategic initiatives of an organization that welcomed fresh approaches.

Unfortunately, I could not continue this stint for long due to family pressures. It was disheartening to leave a profile that gave me the most satisfaction.

I know I am still reeling from that shock. I am also in search of a similar profile in my new surroundings.

I know that what I am aiming at is not so easy. It has been a weary journey for me but I am not ready to give up just yet.

The shy, reserved little girl sitting in a corner of the classroom has travelled too far to surrender to destiny. I still have dreams that I keep alive.

I want to do something meaningful in my life. I want my skills to be used and developed. I want a happy and peaceful family life. Above all, I want to be the best human being that I can be.

I am praying for divine intervention in acheiving these small goals. It is going to be a rough pursuit. But, what is life without these goals and challenges?

Feminism and Me

I am scared of considering myself as a 'feminist' for fear of evoking the negative connotations of that word. Although I am a staunch ally of the womens' rights movement, I would not dare to call myself a 'feminist' in the conventional sense of the term.

I have strong views about the position of women in the society. I believe that a woman is never below a man in her ability to set sail in the stormy sea of life. Like most others, I am proud to see fellow women succeed in all walks of life.

I cheer when the likes of Nancy Pelosi, Hillary Clinton, Condoleeza Rice, Sonia Gandhi and Segelene Royal voice their opinions in public. My heart was filled the day Wangari Maathai stood on the stage to recieve her Nobel Prize for Peace. Likewise, so many women have proved to the world that success is a personal journey totally independant of gender.

Some women have flawed perceptions of their role in society. They believe that womens' liberation involves freedom from the traditional roles of women such as cooking and cleaning. They also feel that hating men is a form of feminism. I consider these women to be a confused lot not sure of the very nature of women.

A woman is often a daughter, wife, mother, sister and a friend rolled into one. It is the woman who makes life around her blessed or cursed. Women need to understand that there is nothing demeaning about fullfilling the demanding chores of daily living. Those around will definitely reciprocrate the efforts of a well-meaning woman.

Women also have certain rights along with the responsibilities. Universal womens' suffrage guarentees all women the right to participate in a democracy. The increasing percentage of women in leadership positions around the globe is a good indication of a progressive society.

Closer home, a woman should have the right to make decisions on the domestic front. After all, she is the corner-stone of a family, the basic unit of society. She should also have the right to choose and pursue a meaningful career.

I get enraged while watching clips of abuse of women on TV. No religion or culture can justify such henious practices.

Sadly, women are kept veiled and segregated in some societies. They are not given the opportunities to learn and improve. They are kept isolated by oppressive regimes and treated as mere objects. Society should never condone such practices.

The value of a woman is priceless. Those who have experienced the strength, companionship and care of a woman will know their true essence. I firmly believe that a society that protects and respects its women will go very far in the future.

Memoirs - My Student Days in Gujarat

My campus in the Indian state of Gujarat was a world apart from my previous one. The old campus was reminiscent of its heritage and historical significance. It was a pioneering Institute offering a niche area of study. It was famed for it's glorious past of about a hundred years. In contrast, the institution that I joined next had no history at all. It prided itself on novelty, world-class standards and strong industrial connections.

This new institution was located in Gandhinagar, the planned capital city of Gujarat. The city was divided into small units or sectors with all the amenities for quality living. The college was nothing more than a few buildings when we arrived. Construction matierial was strewn all around and there were piles of rubble everywhere.

Within a few months, multi-storied buildings, the hall of residence, sports facilities, an open-air theatre, a resource centre, faculty buildings and lecture halls were built. The campus was soon covered with a smooth carpet of grass and dense vegetation.

I loved hanging around the large lotus pond and fountain near the entrance to the college along with my friends. We were a close-knit group and this lush campus was the perfect venue for such friendships.

The best part about this campus was that there was no sense of day or night. The numerous lights blazing overhead made sure that the campus remained bright even in the night. This was a treat for the students who were always outside in the canteen or food court area.

The food courts served a variety of great meals and snacks. Each of us had our favourite dishes when we got together for dinner. I loved having Chicken Biriyani for dinner from Brajwasi caterers. My friend Peter was content with a plate of chilly chicken and rotis. Akshay always chattered endlessly over a cup of coffee from the Fresh & Honesh Cafe in the campus. We made fun of Vinu for eating curd rice daily. Shyama preferred to have dal, rice and pickle in true simplistic style.

We were a mixture of tastes but we were always somewhere in the campus. We retired to our rooms very late in the night. I can't remember being in the hostel rooms for more than a few hours everyday. I was either walking around the campus or chatting with friends over a cup of masala chai (tea) in the food courts.

I liked the spacious, well-stocked Library and Resource Centre. The labs were open everyday with round the clock internet connection. With all these facilities, this place was sort of a paradise for all of us.

I missed these good times for a great many days after I left the place. This was the only place where I felt a sense of freedom as well as that of responsibility. I like to call my troubles after leaving this campus as "withdrawal symptoms". The remarkable campus facilities and the academic atmosphere was addicting. It took me a few years afterwards to understand that life did not come with all these packaged amenities.

The two years I spent in Gujarat will stay close to my heart. I don't think I will ever come across such comforts and enjoyment again. It was clearly the best of times!

Memoirs - My Hostel Days

I left that campus bordering the Yamuna river almost five years ago. I can still feel the pulse of that North Indian city at the confluence of the three holy rivers. It was my home for four long years. It was from an institution located close to this city that I completed my undergraduate education.

It was an unconventional place in many ways. The campus was almost cut off from the city because of the river. The Yamuna bridge, the only connection to the city, was always crowded and congested. The vehicles on the lower tier of the bridge trembled as the trains roared above them. The pollution was unbearable. The occasional breeze carried with it the stench of a city bursting at its seams.

A few minutes walk from this chaos led to the vast expanse that was my campus and home for a long time. The campus looked like was planted there from elsewhere. It was a complete contrast to what the city was. It was green with red brick buildings. Flowers bloomed at all times. The landscaping was perfect. One of my favourite past-times was sitting under the arches in the Administration Block and staring at all that life around me.

Despite the beautiful surroundings, the institution was a tough place. Most students believed that surving the Institute took a lot of effort and prayers. The climate was extreme. It was an alternation between freezing winters and sultry summers. The summers were especially rough with hot, gusty winds. The hostels did not have heaters or coolers. The drinking water had a hard, metallic taste. The food lacked variety and was bland. A third of the first year students got either malaria, jaundice, typhoid or a combination of these.

I went through a period of shock during my first months there. Then, there was a period of denial during which my subconsious failed to register that I was away from home. The final relief came while bonding with peers in the hostel and classes. There were students from all the states of India and from countries such as Bangladesh, Kenya, Rwanda and Burma. There was so much of variety of people in the Institute. We celebrated together all the festivals of the representative Indian states and countries.

There were three men's hostels, one international hostel and a women's hostel. The women's hostel had about three hundred girls. This was the most curious place in the Institute. This hostel had its own mini campus. There was a high wall around it with many security guards posted around the structure. The women's hostel resembled a fortress designed to keep the species of the opposite sex at bay (or to contain the female species).

It was a totally different regime inside the women's hostel. Believe it or not, this was an incredibly hard place to live in especially for the newcomers. The newcomers were paraded for many months and methodically scoffed at.

The warden was a coward who ignored the atrocities. I remember her asking me if I was facing any troubles during my first week in the hostel. Considering that I was dressed like a clown with oil dripping down my head, I was sure that she could infer something. Ofcourse, I said I was fine and had no complaints. She smiled dutifully at my deranged appearance.

The first year is the longest and the most painful. I must have shed enough tears for a life time during my first year. The following years were full of activity. The friends circle enlarged and there was always some festival going on in the campus. I learned to decieve and lie to suit any circumstances. My survival instincts sharpened and my confidence increased.

By the time I finished my course, I was a changed person. I went in to the Institute as a naive teenager. I came out as a cunning young lady. From my experiences in the Institute, I learned to cleverly mask my mischiefs. I went through the joys and troubles of independance. I learned to manage myself mostly through trial and error.

My time in the Institue was full of ups and downs. I remember my circle of friends and the events we organized together in the Institute. I have such fond memories of the late-night hostel events. It was something close to a bunch of females going insane throughout the night and into the wee hours. I remember travelling to waterfalls, picnic spots, field and industrial sites in our yellow Institute bus. I remember vividly the many fights in the hostel with rival student factions and especially with seniors. There was a lot of bottled-up rage and frustration in all of us.

My years in the Institute was a time of mixed emotions and experiences. I consider it to be both the best of times and worst of times. When I look back, living there for four years is something I cannot even imagine repeating. That life seems so mythical and unbelievable to me now just like that ancient city.