Name changed for privacy ( a long senti application essay)

It is not a pleasant experience to have a chain-smoker as your room-mate when you are still in the 10th grade. Not only does the passive smoking affect you physically, the thought that one of your friends is ruining his life tends to stay on your mind for a longer period than trivial matters such as final exams. I always thought that the most dangerous things that could happen in my room would be a fiercely contested inter-room football game or a slightly over-the-top head banging session. Unfortunately all my idyllic misconceptions of life in the 10th grade were overturned when I realized how easy it was for a student in India to purchase and consume contraband without getting caught. Rahul has always been a good friend of mine. He was a little ‘different’ as a kid (he spent hours working on imaginary science experiments and Imagined that he was Spiderman) but everyone always got along with him. I became really close to him by the 9th grade and we began spending a lot of time together, both in school and during the vacations. It was during one such meeting in the10th grade that I noticed a lighter in his pocket. Now when your 15 years old many of the people around you tend to ‘experiment’ with cigarettes, so I was not overly worried about the lighter. Yet I did not want Rahul to do anything stupid, so I asked him how long he had been smoking for. He told me that he rarely smoked and just tried it once for the ‘experience’, so I dropped the issue.

But 2 months later things took a turn for the worse. One lazy Sunday
afternoon at school (we studied in a boarding school), Rahul casually asked me whether I wanted to accompany him for a ‘smoke’. At first I thought he was joking, but when he showed me the Marlboro packet I realized that Rahul had joined a long list of students who smuggled contraband into boarding school (Dead Poets Society illustrates this clearly). I politely declined and also shouted at him angrily for 5 minutes (for added effect). He said that it was nothing serious and tried to convince me that it was a ‘one-off’ thing. But I was didn’t believe him and shared my worry with two other close friends. Nothing happened for another week but one night I woke up to find Rahul missing. I was immediately suspicious, I searched around but he was nowhere in the hostel. I stayed up expecting him to appear from somewhere and sure enough 15 minutes later he climbed in through the window that now curiously had a few missing rods.. He smelled like a chimney and I realized that the Marlboro was certainly not a ‘one-off’ thing...

Rahul was quite shocked to see me but to my surprise he didn’t even bother to explain himself. He told me that smoking cigarettes weren’t as bad as I thought and told me to stop worrying. And so things continued. Soon I began to find empty cigarette packets in old suitcases, in dustbins and once even near my bed. Things were slowly getting out of control. It was soon common knowledge at the hostel that Rahul was smoking and in a short period of time his physical status had changed from ‘experimenting’ to ‘chain smoker’. What worried me further was the fact that he was getting a regular supply of cigarettes, something a little shocking since our boarding school was located on a remote hill in rural Maharashtra. I often tried confronting Rahul and getting him to stop, but he just wouldn’t listen. His smoking seemed to isolate him from the rest of us; by the time our study holidays arrived he was almost always alone in some remote part of our campus. During the vacations things only got worse.



I realized that I needed to take action. I first thought of complaining to a teacher. But that is where my real ethical dilemma kicked in. The school had strict laws against smoking. If I reported Rahul’s actions to the teachers he would probably be thrown out of school. Rahul was going through a rough patch in life, his parents had divorced 2 years ago and he was settling into his new life. In addition, he was hardly a bad person and he always did his best to not promote smoking amongst the other school children. I really didn’t believe that he deserved to be rusticated. Yet on one hand the only way I could stop him from destroying his life was by reporting him to teachers, but by reporting him to teachers I ...would only be hastening up the destruction process. I did not want to break Rahul’s trust; I did not want to hide the truth from my teachers, but most of all I did not want to spoil Rahul’s life.

So I had to find another solution. I decided to take matters into my own
hands. I thought I would try and stop his supply. But try as I might I could not figure out where he got his cigarettes from. I decided to do the next best thing, take his cigarettes away from him. Now the very thought of stealing completely disgusts me. In addition, I would be stealing from a friend and a confidant, a double breach of trust. I was torn apart and began spending a lot of time thinking over the matter. Should I break my moral values for a higher cause? Also, if Rahul realized that I was stealing his cigarettes he would be upset. I was one of the few people he confided in and it would be horrible for me to break his trust. Rahul was going through a lot of troubles, in his family life, in his love-life and from an academic perspective. He thought that smoking helped calm him and try as I might I couldn’t convince show him that smoking only worsened things. I feared that by preventing from smoking I would create an emotional backlash, the last thing he needed with his final exams mere months away. But try as I might I could not see any other problem to the solution. So another friend and I started to steal Rahul’s cigarettes. It is a horrible experience rummaging through a friends locker while he was not around, but I knew what I had to do. We decided to leave him a few ‘smokes’ so that he could ‘calm his nerves’, but made sure that we ‘confiscated’ a large majority of the cigarettes. When Rahul realized that his cigarettes were missing he started to worry a lot, he thought that junior students were taking them to smoke, he began to worry that teachers had come to know what he was doing. But not for a moment did he suspect me, and for some reason this made me feel even more guilty.

But things got worse. I too was having a fair share of my own problems, and the increasing amounts of cigarettes in my locker, really dark thoughts started forming in my head. “One cigarette can’t do any harm…”, “Maybe I can concentrate better…”But before I could do anything stupid I made sure that my fiend disposed off all the contraband. Meanwhile Rahul was beginning to get really flustered about his disappearing stash. This really worried us; we began to feel guilty about his problems. But before we got any second thoughts, something happened which changed the whole scenario.

It is not a smart idea to smoke in your own room, especially when your ‘house-parent’ is in the hostel. Unfortunately Rahul learned this simple lesson the hard way. He was caught smoking by a teacher. Things happened very fast and the fear of a friend’s rustication really hit us hard. But that is when the school did something strange. They did not expel Rahul. In fact they did not take any strict action. All they did was suspend him from the hostel. He spent the last 2 months of school with his grandmother. This effectively stopped all his illegal activities for a while and in hindsight the school really saved Rahul. If they had expelled him he would have probably returned to his broken city life devoid of any hope or ambition. It scares me to think what he would have become. But those two months with his grandmother, brought him back from the edge.

Rahul eventually did well in his exams and studies in a good college and
lives with his father. This is not a happy ending though. Unfortunately

Rahul has returned to smoking, but he has developed self-control.

We are very good friends, and I recently told him about the fact that I stole from him. After a brief minute of abuse he forgave and even thanked me for my actions. I never expected to face such a tough ethical dilemma at such a young age, but that experience has really taught me a lot about life.

Physical Education

I have a shared a very special relationship with Pyhs.Ed teachers throughout my life. In all the schools that I have studied so far the teachers that teach P.E. has always been the most colourful person on campus. Now in India, most schools generally relegated the concept of sports to a second spot behind academics (except for some boarding schools, 2 of which I have had the privilege of studying in where they are given their due). Take for example my 1^st school, Jasudben Manilal Lalubai experimental high school – our revered sports facilities consisted of a cemented area which is used for throw ball, volleyball , marching and of course as the principals car park. Yet our teacher Balram ‘ Ballu’ sir made sure we did enough work by implementing innovative ideas such as making us do sit ups at our desks , walk on stilts on the roof and do Yoga in the corridors. Now I was too spherical to be of any use to any sports team or of any interest to a coach, but Ballu sir made sure I did all my exercises and running properly. I must say that without his classes I would have managed to run down the steps to the canteen as fast as I did.

In my 7^th, I left JML (as it is heply called) for greener pastures in the form of Sahyadri School. Unfortunately the Elysian lawns I pictured materialised in the form of the arid and extremely rocky patch of near Martian land called the Sahyadri football field. But Gopal Sir and Sangeetha Akka in contrast were very qualified teachers. I attended games and PT regularly and though I was never really good at anything physical I enjoyed play more than anything else. I managed to become a fringe footballer and a decent hockey player as well. Enough of me though. Gopal Sir was an extremely nice person, but unfortunately had the amazing ability of taking a short anecdote and converting it into a Tolstoyly long and incredibly boring epic with several moral derivations. But nevertheless he was loved by everyone and was greatly admired for his skill on the basketball court, ability to catch snakes and the fact that he headed the grand ‘Adventure Club’. Sangeetha Akka was partial to our class guys and hence we could have no problems with her.

I joined Rishi Valley in my 11^th grade and was immediately awestruck by the amazing levels of sport there. Now of course each sport is coached by a different teacher, but the undisputed king of all physical activities is the evergreen ChenaBalaKrishna Reddy Sir. Now Reddy Sir has been taking students for PT jogs for the past 20 years and yet at his age he shows no signs of exhaustion. He is always the 1^st person on the field in the morning and i doubt anyone can forget his interpretation of what a wakeup whistle sounds like. His versatility enables him to referee all sports and he has the unique gift of being able to make decisions on offside’s when he is 50m away from the location of play ( I suppose the intensity of the appeal is a good enough parameter for him ). He is never partial to anyone and is probably the only teacher who knows every students name. And like any true sportsman he begins every match with a stern warning – “No swearing, no fighting”. But for all his affability he is a taskmaster and can often be heard chiding students with his set of self-developed insults that include – “Pass the ball Brainy!!”, “Those shorts are only for the girls in the fashion” and “Don’t trap with your 3^rd leg!!”

I’m quite sure that I will eventually become a couch potato but I will never forget the life lessons taught to me by my sports teachers. After all as Archer said “You can’t hide your true self on a sports field”.

Heat

I recently saw an ad where a kid buys Glucon D or something like that and then hits the sum for six. I really wish that I was that kid…

I know that I have no right to crib about the heat. After all there are so many worse things that can happen to you, (like being born and brought up in Chennai). But the weather is really destroying my vacation. I have a friend who has begun to carry 2 extra shirts with him when he goes out for a movie or dinner. I recently heard my sister decline a shopping trip because it was too hot. Speaking of shopping has anyone ever walked into these hep stores recently? I saw a section called spring-summer wear. And in the past I have seen fall and winter wear too. I did know that when people hallucinate they all see the same dream. Maybe it is just me but as far as I know Bombay has only two seasons summer and monsoon and in case you didn’t know, the only difference between the both is that one of them is hot and wet and the other one is hot and dry. Come to think of it people selling umbrellas must really be making a killing in this city…

Heat in the morning is understandable, heat in the afternoon is expected, heat in the evening is an unpleasant surprise but it is unfair that the nights too have become swelteringly hot. Playing football at 9 in the morning is almost impossible. I wonder how it must be for people who travel to work by train, imagine having a good bath only to enter your office drenched with sweat ( well that usually happens but now things must only be worse ). I have large windows at home and I still need to keep the fan on even at 10 o clock in the night. No one worries that their dinner is going cold. In May a heat wave that swept the nation killed over 106 people. That puts things into perspective.

But luckily for us there are few things which are still making life bearable. Bachelors (a restaurant) used to be one of them, but now looking at the prices on their menu card will kill you (if the heat doesn’t get you first). The max Orange stick I spoke about earlier is another one. But items covered in plastic wrapping are not always the solution; in fact in this case a trip to your Bhaji walla will actually be more fruitful than a trip to Prabhat Provisions.

Most fruits are a real blessing. Litchis are my favorite. At 30 bucks a dozen you make think that litchis are little too expensive, but believe me there are few things in life which taste better than cold Litchis. Mangoes and Watermelon is great too. My mom spoils me with Narayal Pani everyday as well; But eating a little cut fruits is always great. If you are as cheap as me then go to the nearest CCD with three friends, order a cookie and ask for three cold glasses of water. Then flick their ice in tissue papers (Warning: This may draw disgusted looks from people around you).Any good Punjabi restaurant will offer you the best Lassi.

Life indeed must go on regardless of the temperature. And if you are in Bombay life doesn’t just go on, someone is going to make some money out of the summer. And that is exactly what is happening, whether it is international brands selling “spring-summer “clothing or the guy at the signal selling you a hand fan. And I’m sure someone is accepting a lot of bribes in the MET office because my father just told me that it is an international law that if temperatures go above 50 degrees then a holiday must be declared.

Strike

When bus drivers go on strike you pay a little more money and take a rickshaw, when rickshaw –wallahs strike you pay a little more money and take a taxi but when motormen strike you( and a whole lot of other people ) are right royally screwed.

Over 800 motormen of the western and central railway went on strike for most of Monday and Tuesday and as expected their Bhook -hadtal did indeed cripple the city. Anyone who was affected by the strike seemed to be cursing ‘those bloody motormen’ who had caused all the havoc. Right from Raj Thackeray who characteristically said “The motormen should withdraw the strike till afternoon else my party would oppose the strike in their style” all the way till my posh friend who quipped – “I don’t give a damn about them, get the trains back”. It seemed that people didn’t really care about what the strike was all about in the first place. Ok maybe Raj Thackeray knew all about it but I’m quite sure that most commuters didn’t know exactly what was going on.

I know that the strike did indeed cause a lot of problems (It was front page news). I was myself stuck near Churchgate with no way to return until I caught a bus so crowded that I was literally suspended in mid-air by the people around me. And the weather was not really nice as well; there was enough sweat around me to gel someone’s hair. So evidently I too was quite angry with the striking motormen, but I decided to see what the whole thing was about anyway. And after browsing through many news websites I finally found an article which had a little paragraph which depicted the issue from the motormen’s point of view. Well it turns out that like most government employee strikes this one too was about wages. Like most other government workers motormen too were being paid too little. Even as the real-estate bubble broke and the world was in recession the heads of many investment banks continued to beef up rather than cut their salaries. No one said a word that time. These motormen on the other hand always do their work perfectly well and when they ask for a raise so that they can cope with rising prices many condemn the act. . Also their cause was not completely related to wages. I heard an interview with one of the striking motormen on the radio and in the interview he insisted that the strike was partly due to poor facilities for both workers and commuters. The motormen were worried about the safety of the local trains as well. Luckily enough RR Patil intervened and the strike was stopped but the opposition is always there to blame someone and this time it was Mamta Banerjee (who was in Kolkata making last moment preparations for municipal elections (where she has incidentally gotten into a row with the Congress)). And so the matter ended with the focus drifting away from workers issues to parliamentary politics the moment they called of the strike

As a kid most people love strikes and bandhs, the reason – you get a holiday. But as always growing up sucks and now when we think of strikes we curse our luck rather than celebrate. Not getting a train may create problems for us, but the hindrance lasts for a day or two. But in the case of the motormen, a low wage means problems all the time and so I think that their strike is indeed justified.

Money Matters

Inflation is troubling me.

Not only is my life suddenly plagued by its multiple manifestations but, I have also somehow been coaxed into doing a math project on the topic. The BJP, the CPIM and various political parties in India are trying to gain a little attention by cribbing about it (Surprisingly this still does not give inflation any credentials) and it is receiving a hell lot of attention from the media as well (at least it was until Lalit Modi’s childhood caught our imagination), hence another article on the topic is not really welcome. But the topic I focus on today is not really inflation and its effects on the WPI but rather inflation and its effects on the goods we have purchasing since we got our 1^st weekly pocket money .

Inflation first came into my life when I was 9 years old. I used to study in Jasudben Manilal Lalubai Experimental High School and of the many facilities this wonderful institution offered (cement road for throw-ball, same cement road for volleyball, school bus etc...) one was the canteen. The canteen of JML (as it is popularly known (for obvious reasons)) is easily the most important building in the school and it was most famous for its Pav- Vada. When I was in the 4^th grade pav-vada cost Rs3.50p, in the 5^th prices rose till Rs 4 and by the 6^th prices was sky high at Rs4.50p. Now I left school in the 6^th but I’ve heard that the prices just kept going up. If this isn’t inflation then I don’t know what is. In this case the school clearly took advantage of the fact that they held a monopoly over a captive market filled with customers with pea sized brains and 10 bucks to spend. The same sly trick has been played on me by my Sev Puri Valla, my slightly upper class Pani Puri Valla and even the guy who sells Mangola ( MRP doesn’t stop him, he has increased the so called “Cooling” charges). As we grew older our purchasing power improved and for the 1^st time we knew what it was like to buy our own movie tickets. It was great in the beginning, Gaiety had 35 buck tickets and the intermission Samosa was 10 bucks. But now our beloved Gaiety is selling some of its tickets at hundred rupees. UTBT was always expensive but now they have marked up prices by 15% citing inflation in food prices as their alibi. Inflation indeed..

You could argue that if prices were not raised businesses wouldn’t be able to make profits , you could say that inflation in raw materials might force companies to raise their prices anyway – these would be perfectly reasonable arguments, IF not for the presence of the Max orange stick. Unlike almost any other product I have bought, the price of the Max orange stick ( now known as Paddle Pop ) has NEVER changed. I remember buying this ice-cream as a 7 year old kid for Rs 5. Almost 10 years down it still costs exactly the same. And it’s not as if the orange stick has not been affected by competition - Amul, cream-bell and some other companies have all tried to sell rip-offs but these duplicates met with no success. Not once has the price of the orange stick changed. And mind you it’s easily the best ice-cream in the world. It does not have milk or chocolate like most other ice-creams and contains nothing but water and some orange flavoring, but it tastes absolutely brilliant. But sadly this amazing ice-cream is becoming rare, the reason – inflation in pocket money. Children tend to believe that the more expensive the ice-cream, the better it tastes, hence ice-creams like feast and choco-bar are becoming really popular. This sadly means that the 5 Rupee Max ice-cream will eventually disappear from grocery stores…