August 27, 2009

Seasons Change… Do We?

Posted in Friendship at 2:11 am by Krishnadev

        Now, I really wanted my comeback post to be about something serious or something more original, but this movie is so good that I simply HAVE to blog about it.

        Rithu is a story of 3 friends and the quandaries their relationship goes through. But it is more than just that. The film is a complete breakaway from the average ‘commercial’ Malayalam movie, which has a 90 year old veteran romancing a 18 year old girl. It is a trendsetter in its own right, with a bold representation of today’s youth. Not many other Malayalam movies have a heroine as… well, ‘outgoing’ as Varsha, or a gay main character like Sunny. Every single aspect of this movie is so refreshingly original and so fresh!

        Normally when you have a film that explores unchartered territory, they just focus so much on that novelty aspect that you simply go, “Oh my God!” But Rithu, to its credit has kept its focus right. Varsha’s as good as a slut, but that detail doesn’t interfere with the storyline in any way. Sunny Matty is gay, but even in the scene where that is revealed, it just comes as a single sentence, instead of a long melodramatic scene. What is even more heartening to see in Sunny’s case is that his sexual orientation hasn’t been approved of or disapproved of in the movie. It is simply dismissed as ‘his personal matter’, as it should be. Director, Syamaprasad, has seen to it that he doesn’t make a fuss on side-details and sticks to the central theme throughout.

        Rithu has neither an in-your-face comedy scene nor an action sequence nor a sexy-showy scene. It doesn’t even have a song scene. But that doesn’t mean the movie is without any of these. It has a lot of laughable moments. ‘Lovely Jamal’, the condom-scene, the car-rocking scene – humour is not lacking in this film. The songs are all so in sync with the storyline that you rarely notice that a song has come on. Tunes by Rahul Raj are very much in harmony with the theme of Rithu. Varsha, while clothed (thankfully!) for the full length of the movie, does add glamour to it. This is where Rithu succeeds. Nothing sticks out. There are no rugged edges. Everything is just so coordinated and smooth, much like the transition of the actual rithukkal.

        But the most striking aspect of this movie has to be the fact that every one of us can identify with the characters. Varsha is nowhere near the innocent Indian girl, but we are so comfortable with that. After all, the innocent Indian girl is virtually non-existent. Sunny is gay, but that give us any reason to have a bias against him. Sarath is torn between the memories of his past friendship and the reality he faces in the present. His dilemma is something that is completely understandable; something that each and every one of us must have gone through. When Sunny feels bad about Sarath being favoured at the workplace, we feel for him. When Sarath sees the love of his life, Varsha in the arms of someone else, his feelings do not even have to be expressed for us to understand. Varsha’s action, of moving on and getting new guys to date when Sarath goes to the US for a 3 year period, is perfectly justifiable. Everyone is so un-filmy and very realistic. This is probably the most novel part of the film.

            The scenes in Rithu deserve special mention. All locations are simply so beautiful! Camera work is remarkable and is nothing like what we’ve seen. The shot through Sarath’s car’s windshield while it rains is just one example of this.

        The one issue where I feel Rithu has slipped is the portrayal of Sarath Verma. He is just too perfect to be human! Practically all the girls in the hall went, “Wow! What a hunk!” on seeing him. He never does anything wrong. His actions, intentions and words are all noble and way beyond the wisdom of a 24 year old. He doesn’t flirt with girls, he is sincerely in love with Varsha till the very end, and even in the final scene, he is the quintessential ‘sincere friend’. He could have well have been named Lord Brahma! But I guess that is forgivable.

        In the end, Rithu doesn’t discuss an issue. Neither does it make a point. It doesn’t tell us “This is good, while this is bad.”  Hell, it doesn’t even have a fully complete ending, but it has a truly endearing core theme. And this theme has been brought out very well indeed. All the things shown are real, true to life and totally identifiable. A must-watch for all, especiall youngsters.

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August 1, 2009

To be updated soon…

Posted in Uncategorized at 10:22 am by Krishnadev

People, I guess I’ve just regained my liking of blabbering on about stuff… So, keep watching this space! Cheers!!

May 2, 2008

Why I Love Loyola…

Posted in Loyola at 7:48 am by Krishnadev

What’s the easiest way to identify a Loyolite?

 

            Some would say you can identify a Loyolite by the way he talks, the way he dresses and the way he conducts himself. I beg to disagree. I’ve known many Loyolites, seniors, juniors and from my own batch who are as far removed from the above statement as humanely possible. But still, they too are Loyolites. So, what’s the easiest sure shot way to identify a Loyolite? Just tell him, “Loyola Sucks!” If you can walk away without any damage, physically or otherwise, then the guy you just talked to is not a Loyolite (Unless of course you weigh twice as much as him). And in case, you walk away with a black eye, BINGO! You’ve found yourself a Loyolite!! Now, this characteristic response by a Loyolite, ‘defending’ or rather ‘attacking for’ his school, does not surprise any one of us Loyolites, because, we love our school dearly and we’d do anything for the reputation of our love. Recently, a friend (a senior) in college identified this trait correctly and asked me, “How come all you Loyolites love your school so much? What do those people do to you over there?” For all the love I have for my school, I couldn’t find an answer! Strange as it may seem, I simply didn’t know why I loved Loyola.

 

            Some batches may say it’s the friendships they forged in school that makes it so dear to them. They say that the love for each other within them manifests itself as a love for the school which facilitated the blossoming of that love. But in my case, that’s not entirely true. I mean, I do have friends from school, my best friend continues to be a Loyolite and I do share with each of my Loyolite friends, a very cordial relationship. But that’s it… just cordial. Not a ‘die for each other’ kind of friendship. On the other hand, college has gifted me with friends who are not just ‘friends’ but are really ‘FRIENDS’! I truly and honestly believe that my college friends would stand by me and help me more than most of my school friends in the event of a crisis in my life. Not that my Loyolite friends are bad people or insincere or selfish or anything, but that somehow I just didn’t strike as much a chord with them as I did with my college friends.

 

            “So, if it aint friendship, it must be the teachers”, says my friend and Loyolite ‘Hari’ on hearing my dilemma. Hmmm… True, Loyola teachers have always been a source of inspiration, support and confidence for me. Definitely one area where Loyola scores over CET, the teachers in school are simply GREAT! “You : Them” could be like “TVS Scooty : Suzuki Hayabusa” academically speaking and yet you could approach them at anytime, anywhere and anyhow and ask them whatever you want. Not just about studies but also about anything else that might affect the life of a 17 year old. Loyola teachers are simply mind-blowing in that respect. But then again that too was not my area. Even though I knew I could confide in my Loyola teachers, I never actually did. Knowing something is possible and actually doing it are a world apart. Here too, the blame may focus on me but still the fact remains that though I love my teachers very very much, that cannot be pointed out as a reason as to why I love Loyola.

 

            “Maybe it’s the administration”, the thought crosses my mind for just one second and I’m already thinking I must have gone mad for thinking so! This is definitely one area where I know I’m vindicated in my stand by most of my contemporary Loyolites. Fr. Varghese Anikuzhy has been the Principal of Loyola when I reached a ‘thinking age’ and he has continued to hold the same post till date. I do not want to criticize the policies and decisions of a person more than thrice my age but I can sure tell that I, for one person, surely did not approve of them. Though we were taught to think freely, the free thinking could go on only as long as it didn’t challenge the sometimes repressive policies adopted by the school management to ‘discipline children’. From banning school excursions and cancelling the second trips to crowding the school with ‘outsiders’ (I’m referring to the granting of admission to outsiders rather than our ‘home-boys’ in HSC 11th) and demeaning the school youth festival, I found fault in many actions of the school management. Surely then, I couldn’t love my school for its management! It would amount to blasphemy to even suggest the idea

 

            “The facilities in school perhaps?” True, Loyola had one of the biggest campuses among schools in Thiruvananthapuram atleast. And what more, that campus was surely the greenest in the city! Loyola was the only school where you could sneak out of classes and coax Fr. Vice Principal into opening the Audio-Visual room for you to watch a very belligerent Sachin Tenduikar whack the living daylights out of Shoaib Akthar in South Africa  or a blistering knock by one Mr. MS Dhoni to reach 189*. The computer lab with its 1KB-something RAM computers, the multimedia lab, the 2 BB courts and of course the 3 huge grounds! Truly, Loyola was a mammoth speaking facility-wise. (Mind you, I haven’t even mentioned LA Fest!) And now the mammoth has got bigger tusks implanted in the form of the largest (I hear) indoor stadium in Thiruvananthapuram. But do you love the mammoth simply for its size? I think not. All these facilities in Loyola might have played a great role in shaping me but honestly, anyone with money could do all this. There’s nothing ‘Loyolish’ in any of these (excluding LA Fest of course). It simply ain’t the facilities.

           

            “What else?”, I ask my confused brain. And then I get this idea to try and find the answer comparing by Loyola and CET. Something that is foolish to do, as both are entirely different, but still something that is do-able. As I pointed out earlier, I have closer friends in CET, I have the added pleasure of talking and interacting with girls (one thing Loyolites have experienced only limitedly), I have been given more respect as a student (atleast by the canteen staff, if not the teachers!) I have an entire 120 acre campus (20 times that of Loyola) to roam and of course I have stepped on to a bigger stage in CET. But inspite of all this, I love Loyola more than I love CET. I’d jokingly say to anyone, “Oh! CET!! Daey, we too are equally thara as you.” But about Loyola I’d always say, “We truly are a class apart!” The WE in Loyolites’ case has a higher meaning and a higher value than the WE in CET’s case. And it’s then that the answer strikes me.

 

            It’s now that I realize the truth. It’s not the friends, it’s not the teachers, it’s surely not the administration, and it’s not the facilities that make me love Loyola as I do. Relationships may wither with time, be it friends or teachers; facilities are just material things that may vanish faster than you can say “Earthquake!”  The reason is something else. It simply is the spirit in me… the Loyola spirit. Each one of us Loyolites may define ‘the Loyola spirit’ differently but it resides in all of us. And in spite of the numerous definitions we may have given it, the Loyola spirit has one common attribute – It makes you love Loyola. And that truly is what makes me proud to declare myself a Loyolite. That is what makes me a ‘loyoliteforlife’ as my yahoo ID spells out.

 

Cheer Loyola’s sons!

February 23, 2008

Fined!!!

Posted in Freedom, Rights, Social Issues at 7:17 pm by Krishnadev

“Oh! Oralpam personality ullavare onnum Police angane fine adikkilla. Enne kandille…”

(Oh! The Police won’t fine someone with as much personality as me.)

            This used to be my trademark reply whenever my Dad or Mom started talking about the importance of wearing the helmet on the road. Guess that ‘personality’ just gave up on me this time. I was fined by the Police, today evening near the Saphalyam Complex in Pattom for not wearing a helmet! (Sheesh!) And cruelly enough, my purse which normally is empty all the time, was rolling in riches when they caught me! Even crueler is the fact that the only money I could give them was the 100 rupees that belonged to me! (The rest was not mine. I was just in possession of it!) That money, I had so painstakingly raised over the past one month, in a now rendered futile attempt to recharge my mobile balance which has been languishing at Rs.5/- for over a month now. And now, it’s gone! Probably to get some minister his daily dose of premium scotch. Or maybe to fetch that police officer’s wife fish for the family at night. Hope that makes them ‘honourable’ judges, in coats as darkened as their intellect, happy!!

            I’m disgusted. Since when has India degraded to such a despot nation where the fundamental rights of the citizens are threatened by the very courts designed to protect them? I mean, the Constitution guarantees us Indians six fundamental rights:

  • Right to Equality
  • Right to Particular Freedom
  • Cultural and Educational Rights
  • Right to Freedom of Religion
  • Right against Exploitation
  • Right to Constitutional Remedies

Now let’s just look at the one I’ve stressed there. The right to Particular Freedom guarantees us the rights:

  • To freedom of speech and expression;
  • To assemble peaceably and without arms;
  • To form associations or unions;
  • To move freely throughout the territory of India;
  • To reside and settle in any part of the territory of India;
  • To practice any profession, or to carry on any occupation, trade or business.

            Again, please note the one I’ve stressed on. So, if I have the right to move freely throughout the territory of India, then why should I be forced to wear a helmet to travel from Vazhuthacaud to Spencer junction, if I don’t bloody want to do so? I mean, isn’t making helmets mandatory, an action comparable to a situation where the courts decide that all Indian men should wear light green shirts and magenta trousers and all Indian women, orange saris and grey blouses , every Monday!!? What do you call this if not bullying by the ‘honourable’ courts?

            Now, I’ve read somewhere that wearing a helmet increases the chances of survival in the event of a crash by 29%. (A seatbelt in a car increases the same by 40%) Am I going to have to suffer all the hardships of wearing a helmet, carrying it around, even to the loo and looking like a fool just for the sake of a paltry 29%? Bullshit! I prefer crashing my bike somewhere and splitting my brains open to the above. Besides, there’s every chance I’d be subject to the same fate even if I wear my crown. Then, why should I sacrifice my comfort for the sake of the whims and fancies of some ‘honourable’ judges sitting in some air-conditioned halls and who may never ever in their lives have even ridden a motorbike or knew what it’s all about!!?

            Forgive me if I’ve sounded too animated. It’s just that I’m tired, frustrated and angry! Tired am I of hearing that lady from Airtel say, ‘Your account balance is low. Kindly recharge your account to ensure prompt service’ every time I make a call. Frustrated am I with the police for fining me, a poor unemployed student, while there are hundreds of filthy rich buggers out there who drive without even a driving license! Angry am I with the ‘honourable’ (Let me use this word one last time before I sound like Mark Antony talking about Brutus) courts for focusing on implementing such stupid laws when they have a backlog of an estimated 25 million civil and criminal cases! Don’t they have anything bloody better to do? All that the courts have done with this action is make patriotic, country-loving young guys like me turn against them while what they’d ideally want is to recreate trust in the judiciary in the quantum that they enjoyed way back in the late 1940s and 1950s.

            I had a talk about this issue with one of my friends before my ‘fine experience’ and he said it was up to the courts to ensure the safety of Indian citizens and maybe that’s why they’ve implemented this rule. Yeah, right!  BEWARE FELLOW INDIANS! The courts are soon going to make condoms mandatory to have sex (Ooh! AIDS kills!!). Please don’t complain. It’s for your own safety.

February 22, 2008

Love/Friendship??

Posted in CET, Friendship, Love at 11:25 am by Krishnadev

            Ok, so we’ve been getting a lot of free hours in college lately and guys as we are, the lathiyadi often comes back to the same topic… Love, Friendship and how these 2 are related. When exactly do you love a person? When do you have a crush on someone? Is this crush just an infatuation? Is love and infatuation one and the same? Is love friendship? Or is friendship love? All of these are questions we asked each other a million times, answered to each other a billion times and still, we saw ourselves as confused as we were at the start, if not more.

Almost all fairy tales talk of how a handsome prince met a beautiful princess, fell in love with her at first sight and lived happily ever after. But is finding love exclusive to just the handsome and the beautiful?? Or is it the prince and princess part that makes them so lucky? I, for one person have never heard of a couple who’ve simply found love and ensured that their love is immortal. If at all anyone ‘finds’ love, it lasts just for a short period. And since it lasts only for a day/month/year, it’s not love. People may ‘love’ each other just to show in public but love’s not a showoff! If it is just for showoff, it definitely isn’t love. I’ve seen guys walking with their ‘loves’ and ‘crushes’ around the entire college campus, not just so that they could talk but also to put up a charade in front of others. To kinda show others, ‘See, this is my girl!’ It’s this fake affection that gives them away.

Love, for me, is not a showoff. Neither is it a pastime or a game. Love is not something you feel immediately upon seeing someone. It’s not something that’s hidden and waiting to be discovered. Neither does it spring out of nowhere nor does it simply happen between 2 people. Perhaps that’s why they use the phrase, ‘making love’. Because love is to be created, nurtured and brought up with hard work, a lot of adjustments and definitely infinite reserves of patience. And in this sense, college love is simply not love. In fact, even when you marry someone, you do not love her/him. Love’s perhaps that which exists between a grandpa and a grandma sitting in a park and sharing an ice cream. Or between the grandpa who has one hand on his walking stick and the other on the hand of his love, while crossing the road. Perhaps that is love. Something that has evolved over so many years of living together, adjusting, making mistakes, disagreeing, quarrelling, reconciling and again adjusting. Perhaps, that is love, when one can understand each and every emotion of one’s love. When you no longer need to tell each other, “I love you”. When you no longer need to buy gifts for Valentine ’s Day to reaffirm your sincerity. When the element of doubt and suspicion have completely been eliminated. Perhaps, that truly is LOVE.

But is that all that Love is? I mean, you do love your brother, your sister, your mother, your father and your friends! You love your parents and your siblings because they’re always there for you. Because they’re the ones you share everything with before anyone else. And friends… Friends are the people who you trust, who you believe and who are true, sincere and honest to you till the end. As we grow up, the group with which we share our most intimate secrets and stories switches from our relations to our friends. We share our joys, our sorrows, our strengths and our weaknesses with them more than we do with our parents and siblings. So, we love them. Shah Rukh Khan said so famously in ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’, ‘Love is Friendship’. At first glance, it may seem just another stupid Bollywood quote but on closer analysis, we realize that the King Khan is right. Love is friendship. Only that that’s not all that’s love.

So, is sharing the same as love? Perhaps… Love may be sharing of a true and honest part of you.  I believe this is the most apt way to express the meaning of love. Even with your ‘love’, it’s this sharing that bonds you together. With your friends too, it’s the sharing that causes you to love them. The only difference is that with your ‘love’, you share everything and I do mean EVERYTHING.  And that level of love sure takes quite a lot of care, patience, understanding and adjustments. 

Love’s not the words you say,

Neither is it the gifts that you pay.

Neither a showoff nor a timepass,

Love’s pure and clear as glass.

Love’s not to be found here or there,

It is to be made with toil and tear.

Love’s not courtship…

Love’s not something that shifts…

Love’s the tallest that grows Friendship!             

August 31, 2007

The Greener Side

Posted in CET at 4:50 pm by Krishnadev

          It’s been 5 whole days since college closed for Onam. 5 FULL DAYS!! God!! And I’ve been here all  these 5 days having nothing to do except check out local TV listings, only to fling away the newspaper frustrated, and sit in front of the PC listening to songs that I’ve heard a million times. NO internet, NO computer games, NO books, NO one here to go out with, NO new film worth watching in the cinemas and the hardest one, NO SMSes (Thank you, guys at Airtel, for cancelling out all your schemes). Life’s so cruel to a 19 year old! And to think I really wished for this vacation.

                Occasional calls from friends are the only breather in this frustratingly boring existence. But there too, how much can you talk to someone on a daily basis? 10-15 minutes, surely not more than that! Even with 5 or 6 friends calling up a day, it consumes barely 1 hour a day. That leaves this poor soul with 23 goddamn hours to spend in solitude. 23 hours to mull over what to do with these 23 hours. 23 hours to curse myself for wishing this ruin upon me! 23 hours to pick up petty fights with bro. 23 hours to type down nonsense! 23 hours to ponder over the great question – SHOULDN’T I START STUDYING? (An idle mind is indeed the Devil’s workshop.) Even the goddess of sleep seems to have forsaken me as I sit here looking at the computer clock that reads 23:45 and still wondering what to do.

                And to think  I had such wonderful plans for Onam when college closed. Watch 2-3 movies per day, play football at school, cricket in college, stick to my diet, exercise, catch up with old friends, do some Onam shopping… I pretty much had everything planned. But again, as someone once said ‘Man proposes God disposes’. (I bet that guy was in such a predicament as mine.) I’ve done all good Onam movies (several ones more than once) and haven’t yet reached that level of desperation where I’d go and watch ‘Alibhai’ or ‘Nadiya Kollappetta Rathri’. (Suicide would figure higher than this on my list of preferences.) Infuriatingly, all of my friends at Pilani or Chennai or Trichy continue to be there as they, unlike me, don’t have Onam holidays. And even more infuriatingly, the majority here seems to think that no football is possible without that minority. (Talk about unity!!! Sheesh!)

Fed up with all this lazing around, I even went for ‘Onam shopping’ with mom to the Saras exhibition! THAT was definitely one huge mistake I made, second only to my career choice, Electrical Engineering. It was an exhibition alright – of how people could make such perfect fools of others. There were these rotten sticks with a fresh coat of polish which were being advertised as some exclusive aesthetic marvels. And quite surely, the price tag was exorbitantly disgusting. Inspite of all this, there were actually people who were buying these things. Other than the polished junk, Saras had on show latest advances in technology like the ‘Automatic Water Sprinkler’ (a pipe fitted with a paddle… WOW!!!), the ‘Instant Palada Mix’ (Tastes wonderful, just like cough syrup… I swear) and of course the ultramodern ‘Instant Lemon Juicer’ (Yeah… that thing we’ve been using since Christ’s time). Altogether, the experience was so wonderful that I ended up promising myself never to accompany mom for shopping.

                All these experiences have made me too bored even to exercise. I keep thinking ‘I’ll start first thing tomorrow morning. And then, there’ll be no stopping me. I’ll lose 50 kilos in 5 days!’ Quite predictably, I sleep till 10 in the morning and the first thing I do in the morning is go open the fridge door, take out leftovers of the previous day’s pizza and treat myself to a sumptuous feast. There go my plans for dieting and exercising. As Bridget Jones exhibits in the movie, food is really an idle, bored, frustrated mind’s true companion. Nowadays, I go to bed wondering what there’ll be for breakfast the next day. Come breakfast and I’ll be wondering what’s for lunch. Lunch sees me waiting for tea and tea sees me eager to dig into dinner. The process goes on. I remember Fr. Anikuzhy once saying something about Eating to Live and Living to Eat. I’m not sure which category I fall into right now. Food is the only activity I enjoy on a regular basis now. Perhaps, this is why my conscience turns a blind eye when I eat so heartily when I should be dieting. Then again, who cares?

                I’m not shifting the blame from myself for this quandary that I’m in. it’s just that I’m too riled that I thought I should permit myself atleast this small luxury. True, I waited for this vacation. I counted down each and every day till the start of this vacation. And now, here I am, just waiting for college to reopen. Holding on to this mundane existence till life goes back to normal, to college. Repeating to myself that just a few more days and I’ll be back where I belong, among my friends. And as I end this piece, an outlet of my exasperation, I pray to God, ‘PLEASE!! NO MORE VACATIONS!!’

Amen

June 14, 2007

Those Amazing Days…

Posted in Loyola at 6:02 pm by Krishnadev

I’m one of those guys who have been harbouring intentions to start a blog for a very very long time, but just didn’t find anything to write so much about. Even if I did find something, I just didn’t seem to have the patience to write down all my feelings about that particular topic. But, today after an enlightening talk with DP, I’ve decided that I AM going to do this… no matter what. Feeding the idea into my brain and fixing on it was just the first part for I began to wonder what to blog about. After all, you do have to have something to write about!! It is at that precise moment that I had this interesting bit of conversation with my friend Shivan,

Kichu: but I just dont get anything to write about so passionately
Kichu: u tell me some topic….
Shivan Nair: talk abt sthng that u dont wanna remember again
Shivan Nair: i know it sounds strange
Shivan Nair: but u will hav loads 2 talk abt sthng u wanna 4get
Kichu: hmm… okies

Talk about something you don’t want to remember? Why would I want to talk about it if I don’t even want to think about it? Anyway, I respect what he says as that, more often than not, tend to be the right thing to do. But again, it sure would be weird if I were to fill an entire blog with all the brickbats that have come my way. And then came this idea of writing about something has always filled me with hope, pride and inspiration… my school, Loyola.


Life in Loyola began quite early for me. One fine day in 1993, at the tender age of 5, I found myself in front of a teacher (I don’t quite remember who) who conducted some sort of preliminary test. Later, I’m told, I was interviewed by none other than Loyola’s very own Fr. Thayyil and Fr. Pulickal. Unfortunately, I remember the faces of neither of them. Obviously I must have passed the interview, for a few weeks later, I found myself in white and black stepping out of the school bus onto that lush, green campus.Honestly, I don’t remember much about my years in Upper KG but I do remember that the UKG classrooms then were to the left of the main school stage. Actually, the classrooms were just beside the toilets. (Smart indeed!!) Thinking of it now, I do remember an incident on the very first day of my life as a Loyolite. I was actually supposed to be in UKG-B division, but my best friend from nursery, Bhareth was in the A division. As I knew none of the kids there, who had an equally expressionless face as me, I went straight to the other division class and spent my whole day there. The fun of it is that, noone noticed it!! And mind you, I was no slim beauty. Apart from this, I remember this guy, Shanker… he had such neatly rolled rice balls for lunch every day. I still am quite amazed at how those things could be rolled into perfect spheres and made to retain their shape, even after the long and ‘perilous’ journey to school inside the school bag.

1 year went away quite quickly, or so it seems in retrospect. Before i knew it I found myself in Bhanumathi madam’s class… 1-B. Bhanumathi madam was one of those caring, yet strict kind of personalities. One moment she would be scolding you and the very next moment, she would be consoling you and telling you to forget what had happened and make sure it never happened again. The class itself was located in a new area. We had shifted to the Junior school. I do find it quite ironic that UKG was in Senior School and 1st in Junior School. The Junior School was something which epitomized the spirit of Loyola. The airy classrooms and the garden in the centre of the building, all were unique to this building. It was in first standard that someone (me to be precise) managed to upstage the genius of our class, Rakesh (who is in IIT Madras right now) for the first and last time, and walk away with the first rank. Of course, this was not because I got more marks than him. It was because he managed to fall sick on the day of some exam and miss it. 😀 Despite that, I did relish that first solid VICTORY I had in school. I went to the extent of thanking Rakesh for being absent. Come to think of it, Bhanumathi madam did mention that to my parents once during some PTA meeting. I wonder how she came to know of it. Rakesh told her, maybe. It was in the 1st that I got my hands on the yellow Class Leader badge. Though I was CL in UKG, we had no badge in UKG, probably owing to the fact that they ended up buying new badges every term. Let me tell you that that badge was one of my most prized possessions in those days. In fact, in that picture alongside, I’m the guy to the right of Bhanumathi madam, wearing the very same yellow badge.Elizabeth Madam’s 2-B came and went in a flash. Class Leader post, 2nd position in the exams (Nope, Rakesh never got sick again!), proficiency prize at the school day, regular quarrels with someone (anyone)… yup… 2-B was quite ordinary. In the junior school (1 to 4), all the classes were in this wide semicircular arc and so, we had a clear view of what was going on in the opposite class. I remember one particular incident when I was caught staring out of the class one day, by Elizabeth madam. A casual “Would you like to go join them, Krishnadev?” was enough to bring back my wandering mind to the Modern Oxford English Reader book lying in front of me. If Elizabeth madam was calm and cool, we had just the opposite the very next year. Shubha madam’s “I’ll skin you alive…” still sends shivers down my spine, though I never had the misfortune of being on the receiving end of that one. Of course, she was an awesome teacher… someone who understood you and guided you to the ‘right path’. Ranjini Madam’s 4-B had another attraction in it. I would be taught by Maithri ma’am, one person who had always captured my imagination. In fact, hers was the only Hindi class I EVER enjoyed.

One painful incident I remember involving the junior school is during the Junior School Leader elections in 4th. I was halfway through my speech and had just finished saying, “We are the cream of tomorrow’s India” when my mind went totally blank. I don’t quite remember why but I forgot the rest of the speech completely. Fr. M.M Thomas and Fr. Kuruvilla spared me the blushed and asked me to go back to the audience. I distinctly remember Kuruvilla father asking me my name, in an appreciative manner before asking me to go back. Needless to say, I never became Junior School Leader.

Again, in 4th, I still remember we had this slogan kinda thing, “Now we’re the seniors of the juniors, next year we’ll be the juniors of the seniors.” Sounds stupid, but does have quite a significance cos 5th standard was the year… The transition to the Senior school was one hell of a change. So long, we were in a remote corner of the school and got to meet our illustrious and celebrity seniors only during combined assemblies or other functions like the School Day. Even the Youth festival was separate for the Junior school. But, suddenly, we found ourselves where we started out. The 5th classes were just near the UKG classes, just that now we had benches and desks instead of those small green coloured chairs we had in UKG. We were now in the big league, in the company of the greats… our seniors who had demi-god like status there. In the 5th, we had an entire batch of new teachers teaching us. Starting from Gigi Devasee Sir, our Class Teacher to Bijo Sir (Phy) and another sir, about whom the only thing I remember is that he looked great in a red shirt he had. All of them lacked this mature and dignified aura that our teachers till now had, but they more than made up for that with their cheerfulness and their ‘let’s do’ attitude.

5th was the first class in which I never became a Class Leader, something that I had always cherished. From the 5th onwards, we Loyolites had come of age and were given voting rights. Class Leaders and Asst. leaders were chosen each term by means of vote. I never became a class leader again till the 9th.

5th was the year in which we had our first ugly incident in class… And it was pretty ugly. One of my classmates, whom I don’t wish to name, had a quarrel with the class teacher, which finally resulted in him pushing Gigi sir, who fell over the bench. Luckily, nothing happened to him and sir managed to keep the incident under wraps. Oh!! And how could I ever forget… We were shuffled for the first time since we joined school in the 5th. I went to the A Division.

Elizabeth madam’s 6th was rocking, to say the least. Absolutely amazing was the way she encouraged us to think independently and form our own ideas in life. She was the first person who encouraged us to think more. She was new to the school then, but she taught us to be Loyolites.

At this point of time, I notice that it’s not the first years in school that you forget as you grow… Rather it’s the ones in the middle. I remember nothing more of 7th and 8th than that we had English teachers at the helm both years. Mini Thomas madam was our class teacher in the 7th and the same post was held by Sonia Madam for the first half of 8th and by Shiela George madam in the latter half.

Ahh… wait… 8th had 2 other events of great significance… The first one is of course, as every Loyolite knows graduation from shorts to trousers. That was one transition I was quite happy to go through. Surely shorts weren’t suited for my.. well.. larger than average body. On the 1st day of 8th, as I came to the bus stop, Rakesh Chettan (School Leader 2004), on seeing me said, “There’s some difference… ah! you’re wearing pants now!!” That was one moment I felt proud. Don’t know why but I did feel proud to be wearing trousers.

The second significant event was the arrival of our very own Prabhu Sir as Chemistry teacher. He was… more of a friend than a teacher. With all his energy. enthusiasm and his… well… unconventional methods of teaching, Prabhu Sir was a true asset to the school as well as to the Loyolites. In him, we had a superb chemistry teacher as well as a great friend. I did have my odd moments with him but I still relish the memory of him. In his very first class in Loyola, he WOWed us with all the sublevel configurations and all of NaCl. Not to mention his phrase ‘Silly goose’ which I believe he gave up soon after some bloke went and told Princi about it… heh… Anyway, coming back to Prabhu sir, his trademark, as far as I’m concerned is his “DAEY THADIII” fashion of addressing me. I don’t know why but I DID like that somehow… He was quite a character in school. In everything he did, he left that unique trademark of his. Perhaps, his methods weren’t all that refined, but successful they were.. no doubts about that.Come 9th.. Come Shiela Madam… One of those moments which really stick with her image in my mind is the one where she held a photo of herself in front of Shakespeare’s house in Avon. She’s telling us about the photo and just then, Gemini stands up and asks, “Madam, is that your house?” That was quite a funny scene as I look back. 9th had Sindhu madam as our class teacher. Again, she was one of these friendly teachers in Loyola. A person who really warmed your heart as you stepped onto the school campus.


10th was easily the defining year of my life in Loyola. A lot… a LOT happened in 10th which has affected me deeply and changed my life a great deal. Many incidents which have hurt me a great deal, many which made me think on the person I had become, which made me change. First of all, I lost the Asst. School Leader elections, which left me hopeless and desperate. Then, I had this HUGE argument with Fr. Principal. Actually, it wasn’t a argument. Rather, it was me, shouting at him all the time. And the reason was nothing but a lot of misunderstandings and false accusations. Finally, it led to be getting suspended from the school for 5 days for ‘behaviour unbecoming of a Loyolite’. Unbecoming indeed… People saw this as a punishment for me. I too did then. I used to curse father for doing that to me. But now, as I write this, I realise what he did for me. I value what he did for me. I’m glad for what he did for me. I’m glad he suspended me. Contrary to what many others in my batch think I feel about him, I think Fr. Varghese is a great guy. Those 5 days were the most valuable days in my life. I learned a lot of lessons thanks to those 5 days. I learnt that my temper was going to get me into trouble sooner or later. I see him now and realise “That’s how a man should be”. He easily forgave me for all my sins and took me back into Loyola in the 11th even though I managed a miserable 85.5% in the ICSE boards. Even while suspending me from school, he made sure i wouldn’t lose my classes. All I lost was 2 rain-washed basketball matches and another game that Loyola lost pathetically. The feeling was quite something, but I guess it gave me a kind of rude awakening to the reality. For after that, I tried to change myself.

Another important aspect of 10th was we had Lekshmi teacher as the Class Teacher.She was one person I really warmed up to. She truly loved me and I reciprocated the feeling. She helped me out during that incident I mentioned earlier and gave me moral support throughout. She always remains one of the teachers I hold closest to my heart.

11th was the most enjoyable year out of the 13. Tuitions, girls, the best excursion ever, LAFest and of course… how can I ever forget… DP. In every aspect, 11th simply rocked!! Noone was bothered about the 12th boards or anything. It was all about partying all the time. If I were to be given a chance to relive any one year from my 13 years in Loyola, without hesitation I would choose the 11th. After all that happened in 10th, 11th was quite a change… a welcome one. Soon after school opened, I found myself bagging the post of Asst. Coordinator for LAFest. That was quite some achievement as far as I was concerned. And I was… no.. am still proud of it. The tuition places which came with 11th were the first places where I got my very first friends from the fairer sex. To be quite frank, it was quite a welcome change from the boys only life at Loyola. But again, that was Loyola life. That was what made it special. The other thing that made 11th so close to my heart is the best excursion we ever had. Bangalore, Mysore and Veega Land were simply not enough for us. I’m sure the poor guys at Hotel Presidency, where we stayed, still remember us. I guess those rooms still bear the scars of our visit. Heh…No account of the 11th and 12th in Loyola would be complete without any mention about the great lady…

Deepa Madam… DP… Finest teacher Loyola had… Greatest friend any Loyolite ever had… DP was is simply one amazing lady. I mean, we, 17 year olds were struggling to keep up with her. Such was her passion and the enthusiasm with which she did things. I guess she’s the one who truly completed our transformation from simple guys to true Loyolites. My only regret is that I never quite warmed upto her in school. It took me till after I left school to meet the great friend and confidante in her. Still, better late than never, as the saying goes…

 

My final year in Loyola was, well, eventful to say the least. The year started with a great disappointment as i lost out on the School Leader elections yet again. But again, the post of LAFest Coordinator did come as a consolation prize. LAFest was, as usual another event where we Loyolites showed others why we were WE and they were THEY. As a friend of mine put it ‘SIMPLY STUPENDOUS’ was the response. And we were loving all the attention. This was our board exam year and here we were having fun when others were neck deep in their textbooks. Something that happens here… only here… LAFest was a great success. All our hard work had paid off. Thinking back, I feel that I really f***ed up on my job as Coordinator that year. I was completely confused and didn’t know what to do. In the end, I completely messed it up. Still, fortunately my friend, Abhi was there, constant as ever, to ensure LAFest was a grand success. I did return to LAFest last year after I left Loyola and do that job once again in LAFest 2006. I did help out my juniors, partly to absolve myself of my sins in not doing my duties properly in LA Fest X. I do sincerely believe I cleared myself of that guilt with my contributions towards LAFest 2006.


Anway, before we dusted off the cobwebs from our textbooks came the Excursion. Of course, it was the last year and there was no way I was gonna miss it. Though we had just very few numbers, we did have an excursion and we did enjoy it. Youth Festival, School Day… everything came and went in a flash. And before we knew it, we were holding candles listening to our teachers bid us adieu. Everything that I had thought to be mine was being taken back. Painfully, I realized that I was going to be an ex-Loyolite. Those 2 simple letters before Loyolite make a whole world of a difference. Atleast it did for me. Loyola wasn’t just a home away from home for me. It was my true home. I would say the place where I live is the home away from home. Unfortunately, time and fate are not to be messed with. The board exams came, went. And with the board exams, 13 years of life in Loyola came to an end.
I think I cried on our farewell day.

Now, as I think of it, though my life in Loyola may have ended, the life of Loyola in me has not ended. And as long as that life remains in me, I guess I can proudly say, “I AM a Loyolite” People from college always ask me why I still keep this email ID ‘loyoliteforlife‘. Well, it’s because I AM one. I AM a Loyolite for life. That’s what I’m proud of… That’s what I want others to know I am. That’s what I believe defines me. Many say, “You’re in college now. Why do you cling on to your school?” They ask me, “How come you’re so foolish to cling on to your past?” They ask me this because they don’t have even the slightest idea of what Loyola is and what life in Loyola is. I’m just another inspired fool who’s in love with his school but my words, I believe, speak for every Loyolite. We all… All of us who’ve had the privilege to pass out of this great institution must at some point look back at all this and say, “Wow.. Those Amazing Days…”

Cheer Loyola’s Sons…