Now that I have got my reading, tennis and passport-chasing under control (if case you are interested in the details... reading: a book in 2 days, tennis: 3 hours a day, passport chasing: completely on hold except for 3 phonecalls a day which are never answered anyway) I finally have time for other leisurely pursuits like talking to my family, reading the newspaper and feigning an interest in prime time television (local channels only).
When Grandma was here on a visit, I noticed that the title of one of the serials she watches translates to 'Bhamini never loses'. I don't know if it's just me, but I can't help wondering why anyone would want to watch something so predictable? In fact, someone should go have a talk about this with Federer the next time he plays a Wimbledon final against Andy Roddick. No, I haven't gotten over that. Deep wounds like these take time to heal.
While I am voicing theories, here's another far-fetched one, this one also about tennis. Now there are a bunch of tennis players from Serbia, not just any players, but players in the world top 20, who claim they learned to play tennis in a swimming pool drained of water. I can just imagine what an Indian, especially in this season, would be tempted to say: When I was younger, I waited for the monsoons so that my coach could dig up a tennis court for me to practice my freestyle swimming. That was how I became a swimming sensation. I dedicate this victory to the rain gods and that tennis court we destroyed to build my swimming pool.
I'm feeling really sleepy now, so this post will have to end here. But don't worry, faithful readers. Now that I've got my activities under control (yes, yes, I am very proud of that achievement) I will be writing regularly from here on in. Although exactly how regular "regularly" is, is open to speculation.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Waiting (aka bureaucrazzy, the sequel)
To continue from where I had left off, when the report finally arrived, I came bright and early with my bundle number and stood in queue at the information counter for another hour where the nice lady gave me a note so that I could go upstairs and meet the PA to the great man himself, the RPO. The PA asked me to wait, and that was what I did till 1. Then he asked me to return after the lunch break for more waiting. By 3:30, when I was bored out of my wits, he called me and told me that my file hadn't been found and that I should call him the next day and come. I did call him and he told me to call him again at 2. Instead I went in person at 2 and upon checking the data on his computer, he confirmed that the file had been found and asked me to go downstairs and get a token for the next round of running around.
However, the token could not be issued because it was past the token issuing hours. I went home to return again the next day. Unfortunately, the queue at the information counter was much longer because one of the clerks was on leave. To make matters worse, it was drizzling and I had to stick to the wall to avoid getting wet. This time though, I had brought a book. I immersed myself in the story to keep the monotony of the stagnant queue from getting to me. It was 2 hours and 126 pages later that I finally reached the front of the queue where I was issued the token that would take me to the office of the RPO. The book I had with me was 'Morning, noon and night'. Quite appropriate, under the circumstances.
But the waiting did not end there. They had to first find my file, pass it on to the person responsible and then direct me to the location. Again, there was a lunch break, and by 3pm, I was starting to feel that I should have brought a few more books and newspapers to keep me occupied. Finally they did call my number and after a few mistakes I finally found the person with my file. But, wait. It doesn't end here either. They discovered that there was another form they wanted me to fill up and another certificate I had to present in duplicate. Another emergency phonecall and hurried trip later, when I was thinking of giving up this quest entirely, they finally felt they had all the papers they needed to issue my passport. I thanked the lady and asked her when I could have it. I was prepared to come and get it the minute it was ready, but she would have none of that. She said she would give orders for it to be despatched by speed post and that I would receive it sometime next week. I would have liked to collect the passport personally, but it didn't look like there was any way I could change her mind about that. The only consolation is that I will not have to go back there (till Thursday, at least). All in all, if I never see the passport office again in my life it will be too soon.
Note: All credit to the staff though. They really do the best they can. And they've completely stopped the practice of standing in lines stretching to the road. It happened sometime after my first visit there. Apparently, a visit by a minister can do wonders for the system.
Bureaucrazzy
Today, I will recount for you, in painful detail, my adventures at the passport office although second hand experience can hardly be considered useful in this case and for no reason other than that I love sharing my misery.
It started somewhere in the end of May . I had received an acceptance letter from a university in the States and had to make plans to travel there. Plans which included applying for a visa. This was when I realized that the photograph in my passport was at least 13 years old and according to just about everyone I look nothing like that picture now. Ok, so I have grown out of my 2-ponytail hairstyle.. but really I'm still the same person, less cute maybe, but still me. However the airport authorities couldn't be expected to take that view and so it was decided that I should apply for a photo change. After all, how long could it take? Even a fresh passport can be obtained in 45 days, and I had a valid one already.
And that was how the madness began. Apparently, it is quite a simple exercise to get a passport. My experience however tells an entirely different story. I obtained the application form without much of a problem, just 15 minutes in a queue was all it took. After filling up the form, I realized I needed a token to get inside to submit the application, and that tokens were available only till 12 noon. That sounded fair enough and I decided to return the next morning.
Dad and I drove up the next morning at around 10, to see people standing in queue all the way along the side of the building and beyond, well into the road. After confirming that this was the right queue, we stood in line for almost an hour. Then, just to amuse myself, I asked the person ahead of me to keep my place and I went to see how many people were ahead of me. I counted 140. By some miracle I got inside the building much later, and while submitting the form was informed that there were some documents missing. We made an emergency phone call to my brother, who rushed to the passport office with the required documents. That task completed, we returned home at 4pm after a very tiring day, during the course of which my sandals were all but destroyed from standing in the mud for so long.
Then began the next phase, the police verification. That happened quickly enough. But three weeks later, there was no news about the verification report reaching the office. I knew this because it had become my routine to check the passport website almost daily. By the beginning of July I was starting to get worried, so Dad and I made another trip to the passport office to see what was happening. Here, after standing in queue at the information counter for about an hour, I was informed that if I were in such a hurry I could go to the police station to ask whether the report had been sent and if so, get the bundle number, so that it would help them locate my file.
The police station informed us that the report has not been sent and asked us to return in two days. And when we did, they told us to return in 2 days. That was interesting. They had the perfect reply. They could just use it over and over again, and it would still mean something. Sheer brilliance.
It started somewhere in the end of May . I had received an acceptance letter from a university in the States and had to make plans to travel there. Plans which included applying for a visa. This was when I realized that the photograph in my passport was at least 13 years old and according to just about everyone I look nothing like that picture now. Ok, so I have grown out of my 2-ponytail hairstyle.. but really I'm still the same person, less cute maybe, but still me. However the airport authorities couldn't be expected to take that view and so it was decided that I should apply for a photo change. After all, how long could it take? Even a fresh passport can be obtained in 45 days, and I had a valid one already.
And that was how the madness began. Apparently, it is quite a simple exercise to get a passport. My experience however tells an entirely different story. I obtained the application form without much of a problem, just 15 minutes in a queue was all it took. After filling up the form, I realized I needed a token to get inside to submit the application, and that tokens were available only till 12 noon. That sounded fair enough and I decided to return the next morning.
Dad and I drove up the next morning at around 10, to see people standing in queue all the way along the side of the building and beyond, well into the road. After confirming that this was the right queue, we stood in line for almost an hour. Then, just to amuse myself, I asked the person ahead of me to keep my place and I went to see how many people were ahead of me. I counted 140. By some miracle I got inside the building much later, and while submitting the form was informed that there were some documents missing. We made an emergency phone call to my brother, who rushed to the passport office with the required documents. That task completed, we returned home at 4pm after a very tiring day, during the course of which my sandals were all but destroyed from standing in the mud for so long.
Then began the next phase, the police verification. That happened quickly enough. But three weeks later, there was no news about the verification report reaching the office. I knew this because it had become my routine to check the passport website almost daily. By the beginning of July I was starting to get worried, so Dad and I made another trip to the passport office to see what was happening. Here, after standing in queue at the information counter for about an hour, I was informed that if I were in such a hurry I could go to the police station to ask whether the report had been sent and if so, get the bundle number, so that it would help them locate my file.
The police station informed us that the report has not been sent and asked us to return in two days. And when we did, they told us to return in 2 days. That was interesting. They had the perfect reply. They could just use it over and over again, and it would still mean something. Sheer brilliance.
I interrupt my own narration at this point to prevent this post from being too long. On the plus side, you don't really have to hold your breath for the next installment (sequel if you please). It follows directly after this. Of course, this story being as intriguing as it is, I am surprised that you are still awake and reading. Congratulations readers, for making it this far. You are much more resilient than I seem to have given you credit for.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Reading Maniac
I just noticed it has been more than a month, so maybe I wasn't as clueless about what to do with my time as I had thought. So, what did I do? Hmm... studied a little (very, very little) for an interview that I chickened out of anyway (ow... should try not to do that again, remembering that makes me feel guilty). Then there was another, less painful interview, and a written test. But mainly I was just reading and playing tennis in the evenings. The reading did get a little out of control in the past week, when I was behaving almost like a chain smoker, except with novels. In fact, I even forgot all about the tennis, and can't even remember being out of the house or even the sofa except for very brief periods. This was something that I thought I'd grown out of, but hey, I am a constant mystery (yes, even to myself).
It started with 'Hannibal', because I had begun reading it before leaving college. After that, I re-read 'Silence of the Lambs' which I had last read at least half a decade ago and had forgotten parts of. I am not really into the gruesome stuff, but I liked the way the sequel followed so logically from where the first book left off. Which had to be the case with all sequels. That seemed like something to think about, so I started reading the 'Twilight' series. Yeah, I know it is supposed to be for teenagers, but that particular consideration has never stopped me before. I remember staying up late while in college to read Harry Potter (this seems to be my day for embarrassing revelations). Anyway, so that was four and a half books of vampire stories in about as many days. Now the problem with reading a lot of books about the same characters, or even just a really long book like 'War and Peace' or 'A Suitable Boy' is that you can get attached to the characters. I have heard that this happens with serials also. I had a friend who used to have dreams about a series he was watching, but then again, that is to be expected when you watch six episodes back to back. Another thing that is to be expected is having to wear glasses because of all the staring, whether at the pages or the screen (in the case of e-books) or the television screen or whatever. Glasses being the one thing I want to avoid, I will try to be more restrained in my reading from now on. Writing that down made me realize just how ridiculous that sounds, like I had to be tied down with chains or something to prevent me from reading. But it probably isn't much of an exaggeration, when you consider that I also managed to read a Jeffrey Archer (always full of improbable coincidences, but great reading) and a Grisham (The Associate, not as good as some others he has written) in between all this.
To get my mind off all this manic reading, and also because I really want to, I am going to attend a friend's wedding tomorrow. I will be going with another of my friends, who herself is married. I just realized that roughly half my friends are married. Well there's always the other half. Hmm... seems like a good topic for a future post. Well, I have to rush now, because the passport office seems to be taking ages to process my application. Not that my being there will speed things up, but it makes me (well, my dad actually) feel like I am doing something useful. Later, then...
It started with 'Hannibal', because I had begun reading it before leaving college. After that, I re-read 'Silence of the Lambs' which I had last read at least half a decade ago and had forgotten parts of. I am not really into the gruesome stuff, but I liked the way the sequel followed so logically from where the first book left off. Which had to be the case with all sequels. That seemed like something to think about, so I started reading the 'Twilight' series. Yeah, I know it is supposed to be for teenagers, but that particular consideration has never stopped me before. I remember staying up late while in college to read Harry Potter (this seems to be my day for embarrassing revelations). Anyway, so that was four and a half books of vampire stories in about as many days. Now the problem with reading a lot of books about the same characters, or even just a really long book like 'War and Peace' or 'A Suitable Boy' is that you can get attached to the characters. I have heard that this happens with serials also. I had a friend who used to have dreams about a series he was watching, but then again, that is to be expected when you watch six episodes back to back. Another thing that is to be expected is having to wear glasses because of all the staring, whether at the pages or the screen (in the case of e-books) or the television screen or whatever. Glasses being the one thing I want to avoid, I will try to be more restrained in my reading from now on. Writing that down made me realize just how ridiculous that sounds, like I had to be tied down with chains or something to prevent me from reading. But it probably isn't much of an exaggeration, when you consider that I also managed to read a Jeffrey Archer (always full of improbable coincidences, but great reading) and a Grisham (The Associate, not as good as some others he has written) in between all this.
To get my mind off all this manic reading, and also because I really want to, I am going to attend a friend's wedding tomorrow. I will be going with another of my friends, who herself is married. I just realized that roughly half my friends are married. Well there's always the other half. Hmm... seems like a good topic for a future post. Well, I have to rush now, because the passport office seems to be taking ages to process my application. Not that my being there will speed things up, but it makes me (well, my dad actually) feel like I am doing something useful. Later, then...
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Home!
All I wished for these past six months or so was to be at home. Now that I am, I really don't know what I want! :D It must have been a really wise person who said that one should be careful what they wished for because they might just get it. My only humble addition to that is that not only could you get exactly what you wished for, but you might have absolutely no idea what to do with it when you do. :)
I celebrated my 24th birthday yesterday. There was a good amount of teasing about getting older, but I didn't think too much of it, till I went to the gym today. I believe that a person is as old as they feel. But after just a hundred sit-ups (in sets of 30, no less) and 2km of running, my body had a difference of opinion with my beliefs. Because, if beliefs were anything to go by, I would have declared myself to be 60 right then.
As for the job situation, I have convinced myself that employment is highly overrated. Who needs a job anyway? Except to pay bills, go places and buy nice things. Ok, now I have successfully un-convinced myself (like such a thing were even possible). But I figure that if I cant get a job, the next best thing would be to keep studying. Which is exactly what I plan to do. This leaves us with just one question: where? As usual, I have several plans, the plans being ordered on an 'or' basis (as in, Plan A, and failing that, Plan B, followed by Plan C and so on). So, while I explore all these possibilities, kindly be patient if you don't hear from me for a couple of weeks or maybe even a little longer. And good luck to me! :)
I celebrated my 24th birthday yesterday. There was a good amount of teasing about getting older, but I didn't think too much of it, till I went to the gym today. I believe that a person is as old as they feel. But after just a hundred sit-ups (in sets of 30, no less) and 2km of running, my body had a difference of opinion with my beliefs. Because, if beliefs were anything to go by, I would have declared myself to be 60 right then.
As for the job situation, I have convinced myself that employment is highly overrated. Who needs a job anyway? Except to pay bills, go places and buy nice things. Ok, now I have successfully un-convinced myself (like such a thing were even possible). But I figure that if I cant get a job, the next best thing would be to keep studying. Which is exactly what I plan to do. This leaves us with just one question: where? As usual, I have several plans, the plans being ordered on an 'or' basis (as in, Plan A, and failing that, Plan B, followed by Plan C and so on). So, while I explore all these possibilities, kindly be patient if you don't hear from me for a couple of weeks or maybe even a little longer. And good luck to me! :)
Friday, May 15, 2009
The Short and Long of It
So, I am graduating.... finally. I am going to take this as an excuse for reminiscing about the things I have learnt over the past 2 years. One thing I noticed straightaway about this college was the fact that the students seem to have their own language consisting almost entirely of short forms and made-up adjectives. Among my favourites are "frrust" which is short for frustrated, "peace" meaning easily accomplished (also "peaceful", "peace marna"). I like how some people use that in a sentence. For instance, when I was still new to the campus, someone told me a story that began with, "See, I was just sitting there, maarofying peace, when suddenly....". That still cracks me up. Also frrust shows just how frustrated the speaker is, to the extent that they can't even bring themselves to say the whole word.
TP (timepass: ie. something to kill time) and CD (cold drink) are some other short forms that had me confused for a while. I still remember a junior asking me if I needed a "CD" after a match. I thought he was referring to a compact disc, which seemed odd to me because listening to music was the last thing on my mind at the time! :)
"Junta" meaning people, and "Studaapa" which refers to the state of being a stud (stud being self-explanatory) were among the easier ones to understand. Then there were the commonplace things like lappy (laptop), dep (department), huha (roughly translated as big deal). Dosa, apart from being a typical south Indian snack, is also short for Dean of Student Affairs. I sometimes wonder how the poor soul feels about his title. Personally, I know I would hate being called a dosa by anyone, even if it were just an acronym...
TP (timepass: ie. something to kill time) and CD (cold drink) are some other short forms that had me confused for a while. I still remember a junior asking me if I needed a "CD" after a match. I thought he was referring to a compact disc, which seemed odd to me because listening to music was the last thing on my mind at the time! :)
"Junta" meaning people, and "Studaapa" which refers to the state of being a stud (stud being self-explanatory) were among the easier ones to understand. Then there were the commonplace things like lappy (laptop), dep (department), huha (roughly translated as big deal). Dosa, apart from being a typical south Indian snack, is also short for Dean of Student Affairs. I sometimes wonder how the poor soul feels about his title. Personally, I know I would hate being called a dosa by anyone, even if it were just an acronym...
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Long Awaited
I know I have not been writing much lately. It is not that I am busy (I never am), just didn't feel like it. I hadn't been online much either, which led some people to believe that I was busy preparing for an interview. I have given up trying to correct others' misconception about my level of dedication. Anyway, the interview, like all interviews, came and went leaving me none the wiser.
The results were put up on the placement website today and three of my friends got selected. When I saw the notice I was ecstatic and called to congratulate them. The first person I called hadn't expected it and was happy beyond words. The second person had recovered enough to express regret that I hadn't made it and that I would surely land a job soon. That was when it hit me. Four months of interviews and I have nothing to show for it. Been feeling a little low since then.
On a happier note, I will be earning my masters degree soon. Was at the lab getting my report printed till late last night. That was quite an experience. Had a very late dinner at 12:30 am, which was fun, like picnics used to be when we were in school. :)
At times like these I sometimes wonder what my parents would think of me being out so late. I still have to remind myself sometimes that I am not in high school anymore, and they probably would think nothing of me staying out late to complete my work. You know, if you think about it, being an adult is really no fun at all. I may be wrong about that, maybe it's the mood talking. We will have to just wait and see...
I have a friend who is quite a fan of the 'ageing backwards' concept (popularized by a certain Mr. Button) and who feels that now would be a good time to start. I reserve judgement on that till I am in a better frame of mind to give an unbiased opinion. Still, I think I would like to be at least 35 before I age backwards. At least by then I will be nostalgic enough to appreciate the youth I'd be getting back. Frankly, right now, just before graduation, going back to school for 2+4+12+2 years doesn't seem like a very good idea!!
The results were put up on the placement website today and three of my friends got selected. When I saw the notice I was ecstatic and called to congratulate them. The first person I called hadn't expected it and was happy beyond words. The second person had recovered enough to express regret that I hadn't made it and that I would surely land a job soon. That was when it hit me. Four months of interviews and I have nothing to show for it. Been feeling a little low since then.
On a happier note, I will be earning my masters degree soon. Was at the lab getting my report printed till late last night. That was quite an experience. Had a very late dinner at 12:30 am, which was fun, like picnics used to be when we were in school. :)
At times like these I sometimes wonder what my parents would think of me being out so late. I still have to remind myself sometimes that I am not in high school anymore, and they probably would think nothing of me staying out late to complete my work. You know, if you think about it, being an adult is really no fun at all. I may be wrong about that, maybe it's the mood talking. We will have to just wait and see...
I have a friend who is quite a fan of the 'ageing backwards' concept (popularized by a certain Mr. Button) and who feels that now would be a good time to start. I reserve judgement on that till I am in a better frame of mind to give an unbiased opinion. Still, I think I would like to be at least 35 before I age backwards. At least by then I will be nostalgic enough to appreciate the youth I'd be getting back. Frankly, right now, just before graduation, going back to school for 2+4+12+2 years doesn't seem like a very good idea!!
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