Why The Results Don’t Matter

I just became (by the virtue of some luck) a Graduate. But somehow deep inside i don’t feel like one. There are a number of reasons for that. One of the primary reasons is the apathetic behavior of Mumbai University towards its students. I can compare it to one of the many Black Holes in space that keep sucking whatever comes in its way and then throwing it out when nothing is left. MU is like that. It sucks in students. So many students that it cant even handle. And then spits them out after dumbing them down and declares them graduates. I am happy for all who became graduates or are in the process of being one, but just ask yourself one question after becoming one: how much did you ‘learn’ in the process of becoming a graduate?

We all slogged for marks in the internals and the external examinations. We made projects after getting all material online and adding our two cents in it to earn the extra marks. Some even paid for the projects. We made presentations on the basis of what is given in our textbooks. The textbooks are hardly updated. You cant call it a textbook if it is updated every 5-7 years. Even if it is updated, it contains so much useless information that the University has to either omit certain parts and chapters. All this after it is printed and the students have bought the textbooks. The textbooks don’t even get printed on time. And when they do get printed, there are so many authors, that i could buy each authors book and build myself a castle.

Every Tom, Dick and Harry suddenly is an author of a graduation course and tries to sell his textbook to his students because it is ‘better than other authors’ and because ’ you will get a group discount if many of you buy’. Its all about the money for these ‘professors’. 

Then there is the examination itself. In the age of computers where even a 5 year old can handle a computer, only the people at MU cant seem to handle computers. Why does a legitimate student from a legitimate college who has paid proper fees, has given all proof of his existence in this world and all his past education have to sit and fill stupid endless circles with numbers and a black pen just before the exam for which he is not even given 15 minutes of extra time? Is it such a problem to provide an extra 15 minutes? Let me tell you one thing, there is no clarity by the MU on when the students should get the answer sheets before the exams. Some teachers who are kind enough and know it takes time give the sheets as soon as the student enters the classroom, other mindfucks from mars give the paper 5 minutes before the exam is supposed to start because ‘thats the rule’. 

After slogging for weeks on end, the wait for the results starts. There is no clarity on the day and date. The rule book says within 45 days of the examination, the results should be declared. But the illiterate people running MU dont seem to know the rules. They dont care about the students. They dont care if we have to keep everything on hold till they declare the results. They care about finishing their hours of work and go back home. They like to postpone till the very end and as soon as the media starts to report on the delay of the results, they blame the computers. Dear MU, only you seem to have a problem with computers. Either you are living in 1990 or that you have extreme bad luck that whenever you buy a computer, it is always faulty. Grow up MU. Americans landed on the moon in the 60s with less computer power than what you have in your offices right now. 

Finally when we get our results, we are just happy we got it. I asked myself was it really worth it? For me, No. It was not worth it. I put in more efforts to rote what was in the textbook than learning something from it. I feel dumb. I feel outdated. I feel like a MU Graduate.

Pink Floyd put it right:

“When we grew up and went to school,

 There were certain teachers who would hurt the children any way they could.

 We dont need no education

We dont need no thought control
No dark sarcasm in the class room
Teachers leave those kids alone
Hey, teachers! Leave those kids alone!

All in all, it’s just a
Another brick in the wall
All in all, you’re just a
Nother brick in the wall”

Thank You Mumbai University.  Dr. John Wilson must be glad that he is dead right now. The great man founded MU and MU destroyed his legacy. 

Harbor Line Banter 2: An Open Letter

Dear Self-Righteous Dude in the train,

I don’t know if i was fortunate or unfortunate to have been standing besides you in the 11.30 CST local on the day when the trains were running extremely late because of a derailment at Cotton Green station. As people crammed inside the already half an hour late train, i somehow found myself besides you. As we settled in the painfully slow and cramped train, i heard you talk complain about the “very crowded train” and how this was “very bad” and how the “authorities did not care about the passengers”. I heard you talk to your friend/partner whoever he was about how you had lived a “very settled life” and how you would “prefer the road instead of such a crowded train”. You even mentioned at one point of time how the “first class usually has more gujaratis but today they are nowhere to be seen”

All the time you spoke about your wealthy and high standard of living, you looked at me atleast 3 times and said to your buddy that many “unwanted people who dont belong here, have taken advantage of the situation and got into the first class compartment”. You must have probably thought, ‘hey whats a guy in jeans and tshirt doing inside this compartment? He doesnt even look Gujju!’. Yes sir, i dont look Gujju. I fail to understand how it matters in Mumbai whether you are gujju or not? Does it enable you to racially profile each person standing besides you in a crowded local train and pass judgements about how everyone in the world apart from gujjus are the most unwanted people in the first class compartment? 

You boast about living a well settled life and then when you spoke, you immediately became the most idiotic and most laughable person in the whole compartment. I could hardly control my laughter. There was a moment when a Sardarji entered the train and stood besides you, you said that ‘God knows how many people will get in now’. You gave a disgusting look to anyone who did not fit your ‘Only gujju’ standard. As we got down i was happy that you got pushed around by some fellow passengers at Masjid Bunder Station while alighting. 

It is because of people like you, that the Gujarati community gets a bad name. It is because of you that Gujaratis like me, always get judged before people even get to know me. You may have lived a life of a fat, rich gujju, but you have absolutely the lowest morals anyone can ever have. Please, go take the road as you mentioned. Dont ever take the train again, as it is better without people like you. And it is so ‘low class’ isnt it? Get a car. burn petrol. I bet you’d love that. 

The authorities whom you mentioned were able to get the Harbor Line up and running again within 3 hours inspite of the heavy rain. What did you do sir? Whine and Complain about how you deserved much better. No, you dont deserve the comfort. All you deserve is crowded trains, heavy rainfall and delayed slow locals when you travel. And i sincerely hope that you get that every fucking time you travel in Mumbai. For insulting me and many others for no reason, you deserve this. Hope you get pushed around in the train. Hope you get pick-pocketed. Hope someone sneezes on you while in a crowded train. Finally, i hope that i never meet you in the train again. 

From,

Akar Gosrani.

Harbor Line Banter 1

I recently started work and have been taking the Harbor line train to Masjid Bunder daily. Even though i go via the first class compartment, there is enough banter to keep me entertained throughout my 20 minute journey on the way to work and back. Sometimes its thoroughly entertaining and worth sharing with everyone. Hence, i thought why not blog about it. So starting today, whenever i hear some really good discussion I will post it under the title ‘Harbor Line Banter’. 

As i entered the first class compartment from Koliwada station, a group of roughly 4-5 gujarati businessmen who seemed to know each other, entered the compartment. They were not more than 38-40 years old. Of all those who entered, one had a freshly bought copy of Mid-Day with the front page report on Osama Bin Laden and how he was put to death. That was enough to get the banter started. The person who had the newspaper was reading it, while the other people started the discussion about what must have happened over the past one day.

“The Pakistani’s must’ve known he (Osama) was there, otherwise how can he live so lavishly?!”

“No, I think Obama just went in with the correct intelligence reports, shot him down and left, It all happened within 40 minutes!” 

“All that is fine, Just see the guts of these Americans. Captured and killed one person who was not in their hands, here we are sitting and can’t even kill those who are already in our hands. Shyaa”

“I was watching the news and they were showing a report about this guy who tweeted the whole thing live unknowingly. He described that one big blast took place and all was silent and then a helicopter crashed”

“Yes i saw that too. He was from Rawalpindi and had come for a vacation to Abbotabad”

“God knows when will these Pakistanis learn. What do they get out of all this? Americans got what they wanted, when will India get Dawood and others. Our government can’t even attack them for fear of a Nuclear attack. What a mad country! (Pakistan)”

Here is my favorite part of the whole conversation.

“I think its all a conspiracy, Obama’s ratings were at an all time low till now. Look at what has happened. His re-election is confirmed in 2012! No one can stop him now!

“These Congress people must be planning the same thing. At the very end of the term, they will pass the lokpal bill, hang Kasab and Afzal Guru and pitch in Rahul Gandhi. Sure shot winning campaign”

“If they are not planning this then at least we should suggest them this idea. At least there won’t be an Advani in contention for Prime Minister. But if (Narendra) Modi comes in, then it will be best”

Gujarat (read Narendra Modi) has suddenly become a role model for all states (read wherever there are gujjus) to emulate. I myself have seen the development going on over there with my own eyes. My native Jamnagar city has transformed into a bustling megapolis with bustling industries and HUGE projects which can put Bombay to shame. Majority of the Gujarati community wants Narendra Modi to continue as Chief Minister of Gujarat. They even want him to be Prime Minister. And just to mention I know of his past and hence won’t discuss that since this is a blogpost about what i heard today in the Bombay local. 

By this time, Masjid Bunder station had arrived and it was time to get down. They all alighted with me and i suddenly realised that 20 minutes had passed by so quickly! Osama’s capture and death was such a huge topic that people in office were also talking about it and discussing it in great detail. Everyone had their own conspiracy theory to tell and share. My dad went on to complain that these idiots (News Channels) kept showing the same thing all day and did not update on the Lokpal bill discussions which were taking place! 

 

“Excuse me, ball please”

When i was a kid, i used to play cricket with my building friends in our compound or the in the next building. It was a ritual to play cricket morning and evening except during school days. During school it used to be either on weekends or during off days. Sometimes even during the afternoon if we had nothing better to do. Every summer this ritual was followed. Nothing stopped us apart from the people who shoo’ed us away if we made too much noise or broke a window or two. We were a group of almost 7 or 8 kids from 2 buildings. Whichever side of the narrow compound we found empty, we used a car tyre as the main stump and a piece of marble for the second, made the teams and started to play.

The rules were always the same. The only thing that came in between was the wall between the two buildings. If anyone hit the ball high or hard, there was a big chance that it would land up in the next building. We either called out to the passers by to give us the ball or sent one person from the batting team to get it as they were just sitting. 

As all of us grew up, we got busy with our lives. Board Exams, College, etc etc. For atleast 3-4 years or more, there was hardly any cricket played in the compound. No banter at all. It felt hollow living here. There always used to be so much commotion and all of a sudden it had all gone away. Even the elderly and the adults acknowledged the same. The same people who complained of us making noise and breaking windows were missing us. Time went on. 

The arguments over runs, wickets, no-balls, wide balls, run-outs, etc made all of it worthwhile. Today i miss those days and i hardly know about the whereabouts of those friends with whom i played apart from a few of them. These memories somehow got deposited in the very back of my mind.

But today, while returning from work, as I was entering my building, a kid from the next building asked ” Excuse me, ball please” while pointing towards the dirty tennis ball which was lying a few feet away from me. As i went to fetch the ball and throw it back to him, all those memories rushed back and i suddenly realised that there were so many times that i must have said the exact same thing to so many people who gladly returned the ball. As I threw the ball back, the kid gladly thanked me and went on with the game. I was once on the other side of the wall.