The Search.

I set out one day to find something,
some vicious, sinful malignance
some artful dodging, some cunning,
some foolishness, some lack of sense.

and then I found myself as I

and realized this fact of life was true

that if you try to find malice, vile

the answer may very well be you.

The price of life... wait... what?

Rohit Kumar a 3rd Year Student of IIT KGP dies due to negligent acts of doctors at the Intsitute hospital BC Roy Technology Hospital. Please follow this link to read a comprehensive article about the Sunday the 22nd of March 2009.














I ask myself at the end of all this. What was the result?

Was the cost of Rohit's life; a resignation from a post?

Was the cost of Rohit's life; an afternoon of drama and violence?

Was the cost of Rohit's life; an Open house which still ended in a smug look on the face of our honourable Dean (Student Affairs)?

Was this the cost of Rohit's Life?




I don't give any answers, not because I don't have them but perhaps because I, like the IIT system, have perhaps grown self assured and apathetic. People don't need answers, do they dear Professors? People need hearing about action not action itself. People need media not news. People need semblance not solutions. Certainly. These are not Answers.

And that is where People are wrong, have been wrong for so much time, and for a negative person like me, People will remain so. Because that's what the authorities have known forever. We never seek answers... because we are born knowing that we will not get them. We have never question authority the way we should have. We have never bothered to ask ourselves why we never expect answers and even if we do ask ourselves... we never expect an answer to our own question.

Questions?????

DO YOU THINK by giving his resignation the Director has answered our queries?
DO YOU THINK promising for the better tomorrow with better health facilities is a legitimate answer?
DO YOU THINK protesting and candle light vigils will have even affected THEM even a lil' bit?


Do you want to know why I ask this question?

This is not because I have stopped trusting this system... I stopped trusting the system when on November 25th 2007 my friend Anshu Gupta was made a victim of the same system. The system that required two hours (coincidencentally) to find a means of transportation when he collapsed in the football field of the NSS camp, the system that tried to stop me from informing his father, the system that had the same smug look that I saw some days back, the system for whom that matter is still "not a big deal".

Should we resort to violence??? Traditionally we are not violent people and I have never been a supporter of violence. But yeah If it comes to self preservation perhaps even I'd resort to violent means. Because its a matter of fact. What they fear is not the media or even public outrage. What they fear is Violence. Stand outside his residence ...he does not come out. Start to overturn his car... two statements are issued in the next 15 minutes. The sad fact here being we are reduced to animalistic approach, it's like living in the jungle. But I doubt that the thick hides of the administration may be pierced by our nonviolent pleas of help.

I can draw parallels here. Not because I want to. But because I can't help but wonder If like today had the doctors of BC Roy fled in panic the day they declared Anshu dead, perhaps Rohit would've been with us today. I can't help but feel sorry for Rohit, his parents, his friends and all of us for having to live in this beutifully and carefuly structured system that is so rotten to the core that you need two hours to find humanity here. The whole system is so corrupt that you cannot even begin to do something about it.

So much bureaucracy, SO MUCH paper shuffling, So much red tape that the price of human life.... well I said it they have a price for the human life.


Don't ask me what we can do .... we are doing what we can...... we are protesting .... we are.....

Do anything you want. You will not change the system. You cannot change the system. The system is dead. And the dead never come back. Ask that to anyone that knew Rohit Kumar.

I just want to say take care of yourself. Nobody is going to help you tomorrow, even though you may shout at the top of your voice today. Don't get sick. Stay healthy. You never know when this red tape may kill us all. You never know when we will suffocate under this burden of bureaucratic papers.Save this Link. It may help you survive.

And always.... Remember Rohit. May God bless his soul. May God protect us all. Remember the guy who had to lose his life because the administration did not think it was worth anything. Remember how cheap your life is according to the officials of our college. Remember to help anyone in distress and not delay medical attention.

Remember Rohit Kumar.

Remember Rohit Kumar.

What's in a name?

My name is Samar Rehman Patel.

...

...

...

well... that's my problem.

To be honest I LIKE my name. Its such a simple and well structured name. And with a good meaning too ( Samar means Fruit, Rehman is a name of God and Patel literally means village Leader. So basically I am the God leader of the fruity business...) also if you shorten it it becomes Sam or better yet SRP ( I hate you...) but then again my name is confusing.

Take for example the police station

Policewallah: What's your name?
Me: Samar Rehman Patel... sir.
Policewallah: WHATTTT????
Me: Samar Rehman Patel.
Policewallah: What sort of a name is this?

basically any sane person wudve given up by this time....but this is my name so I persisted.

Me: Sir Mata-Pitaji ne yehi rakha...
Policewallah: But yaar... ye kaisa naam hai?
Me: Sorry sir...
Policewallah: Are you Hindu or Muslim?
Me: Sir does that matter?
Policewallah: (bit aback) Yeah it does.
Me: (gives a grimace)
Policewallah: Gujju hai?
Me: No Sir.
Policewallah: Maharashtrian ho?
Me: No Sir.... not really...
Policewallah: Kya matlab?
(then I recount into the speech that basically says that my fathers family is basically from Maharashtra and Mom's family from UP....but I am a pure 100% Bhopali)

Policewallah: To Bhopali hai??? Madhya Pradeshi hai???
Me: (feeling a bit relieved) Yes.....
Policewallah: To aisa naam kaahe rakha????
Me: (faints)

So basically I have a confusing name....and the disturbing thing is people love to make an issue out of it. I had a guy in my 10th class Hindi board exam that asked me fifteen times whether my name was written right?

And to add insult on this injury the religious tangle added to it gives it a fine aftertaste....sort of like the suds inside an overused espresso machine.
For example my Coaching Physics teacher...

Teacher: Whats your name?
Me: blah blah blah.
Teacher: oh....(smiling).....India Pakistan border situation?
Me: (confused like hell) What sir?
Teacher: Your mom dad ran away and married... right???? ...(grinning)
Me: (fed up with life already) No Sir.
Teacher: Oh C'mon I love a good love story...tell me what happened...their parents were against this marriage right? right? right?
Me: (faints)


Latest in this line of insult coming my way was the passport office...

Official: Samar Rehman Patel......(then stares again at my passport)
Me: (raising my hand) here ...sir.
Official: Samar Rehman Patel...(still staring at my passport)
Me: (waving my hand) here sir.
Official: Samar..... Rehman .... Patel.... (still looking in amazement at my passport)
Me: (practically dancing) here sir....look at me....
Official: (finally looks up) Oh...there you are...come inside and collect your passport.
Me: (relieved) Thank you
Official: (smiling) Have you come to change your name on the passport?
Me: (revolted) NO!!!
Official: (still smiling at my name) So is there some spelling mistake?
Me: NO Sir .... I...
Official: So this is your REAL name????
Me: (faints ..yet again)

I grow tired of people clarifying my religion or my state of origin or any other thing they think validates them to ask as soon as they read my name.
Even during my OP as soon as I would say ... I am from Bhopal.... "TU GUJJU NAHIN HAI????"

no.... I am just an Indian... Isn't that enough... I even have a passport now.

Sonnet of the Winter.

And the leaves wither and die,
And lie in the frost beneath.
I wonder do every blooming; living thing ever
has an end so harsh and bleak.

Because this is a blizzard of despair,
There is a frost of sadness over everything.
And the snow mouse scurries for wisps of heat,
dry fluff, white wool and bits of string.

I wonder if life has its meaning,
over these stranded hints of strife,
When the Death comes over and mourning is over,
Will there still be a Life?

Another Robotix...

Another One...

You know one thing I have found particularly inherent in Robotix. It's the personalised, humane and emotional touch. I don't know if others feel this way but I have somehow found myself enmeshed in it. I have lots of emotion associated with the fest, the Team and the work we do.

Last year I remember coming out of the Vikramshila complex at 3 am and walking together... I felt the same way as I had left last year... only difference was that this time I was confused too and yes... I missed Sassy a lot. '09 was not much different from '08 it was just that we were sort of more busy and involved and had important work to do. Looking back I can say the total work we did in first year was negligible as compared to the work we did in second year. And last year when I thought maybe...maybe it was we who had not worked hard enough; that was right. Last year we really did screw-up big time.

This time I can say for us sub-heads is that we gave our 200% ( well not Aditi and Rasna , because they gave 300%), we tried our level best, this time the feeling that it is OUR fest , OUR event was very pronounced. As far as the Heads are concerned, I feel that no words can describe how hard they worked in conceptualizing and executing,how hard they worked in conducting, how hard they worked and kept on working. I mean...it's really amazing you know... Last year we were full in awe of our heads and we thought no one can better them... but then '09 happened and it happened spectacularly.

I mean...it's exactly as Saurya said; it's damn scary... it's too damn chilling thought that we have to do the same next year...if we do not perform as well as they did... I cross the thoughts from my mind for now.

If for the heads I have nothing but admiration, it's amazement for the co-ordis. Where the hell can you find on this whole campus a bunch of 4th-5th years who can work more than you in full tempo and although they have worked so so hard themselves they don't hesitate to do the things they did as sub-heads or even members. Bhaddoo, KT, Guru ,Akash, Ritwik,Apurv,Prerit, Depc and Anshuman ...hats off to you guys... I do not have words to tell you that... that ... I said it......... I do not have words.

For the heads too... Sneha and Gaurav, amazing the way they handled a chaos event like 12DD...Ankur and Sanjiban for their intellectual and technical thoroughness... Rohit and Sanhita in mEsh... another one for Rohit for the amazing arena.... Aditya for single handedly managing 300+ teams... and last but far away from the least.... I want to thank Swapnil for the bike he gave me...it was a dream come true really....another thanks for helping me out whenever I was stuck...It's really amazing how MANY contacts he has... again heads....no words.

For my fellow sub-heads, NV for his contribution in the various areas of the Robotix arena particularly at the help desk, Utsav ....man you rocked wEDGED, Saurya ....I never strayed towards the 8 Mile arena...but the fact you never strayed towards the Robotix arena speaks volumes about your dedication there... Amal ....Last year TR this year 12DD....chaos and you should tie the knot....Palkush...no words again.... I have been full in admiration for this guy since class 10... Rasna... again no words... you are seriously the most amazing person I have ever met.... and finally Aditi... she used to say " KGP mein sab gods hain" ... I never realized she was saying that for herself.... truly godlike!!!

Lastly the members.... I would like to formally thank them...they all worked very hard... In particular I would like to mention Pratyush, Kirti and Rahul because these guys ran whenever anyone made them.

In the end I would just say... Don't ask what Robotix can do... on the other hand concentrate on what you can do for Robotix.

Enjoy!!!

Cheers and lots of Love
Samar.

The Boatman

Slither slither the water slaps the boat,

the edges blurring,

moving towards the other end,
the Boatman rows.
Nobody knows why he rows,
ever in this looming melancholy,
rowing silently with vigour,
with a silent symphany.
The darkness of the water ,
is attractive,seductive,
why doesn't he plunge beneath,
into the cool retreat.
But he rows on relentlessly,
untired limbs working away,
sweat breaking on his brow,
his passengers restless,
Because the River is threatening,
calm and cold,
it flows with a vigour,
powerful yet dominating.
Remarkable though it is,
daunting it seems,
darkness overflows and meets the light,
half elation and sorrow.

I often ask the Boatman,
why does he do it,
so on and so forth,
isn't it better to leave?
He smiles inimitably,
and moves his hand over his face saying,
when you have crossed the river,
as many times as I
Nothing seems to matter,
after a while,
everything's just,
coming and going.

I realize
that is what life is,
some come in,
some go out,
we are the boatman of our life,
And the comers mere passengers,
the goers mere passers,
The Boatman doesn't befriend them,
and he tells me to do the same,
"one day they all leave..."
I try to follow,
I ask him about the lure of the river
he says only the fear of the unknown
keeps him from abandoning his boat,
it's tempting to give up the boat of life,
and plunge into the unknown,
But then,
who knows what it has in store?
the Boatman doesn't know
and so I don't.

moments...

I have a heart shaped box.
It's empty now and full of nothing.
I have a little heart shaped box, I say
kept on the window sill of time
morose it looks all by its own
alone and pretty but still forlorn.

I have a beautiful picture
It reminds me of time that is gone
I have a beautiful crooked picture, they say
beauty lies in its simpleness
a simple painting with no color
of light strokes devoid of vigor.

I have an old book
It says 'come read me' now and then
I have an old tattered book, you say
it was a good read and still
I never read it again
and it calls me, its voice in pain.

I have so many things
I have so many things I say again
all neglected and forgotten pieces of past
jumbled up in the quagmire of memories
I gaze on them where they remain
wondering when I'll open them again.