A rainy day

I was waiting for the rains for about 8 months now and finally it rained today. Just when I had washed a load of jeans and bed spreads. Still, love it.

I just love the moment when the sweet smell of the wet earth first hits the nose and clicks the brain... :)

I walk outside to see if it's raining and yes, it is.

Standing on my balcony I lean on the wall with my eyes closed and let the rain soak my face. Oooh, the cool drops feels like its straight form heaven. All I can hear is the pitter patter of the rain drops hitting the concrete below.

Sometimes I wish I had never moved to the city. My days in the village were filled with so many happy moments. I love the feeling of squishing the mud with my toes when the rain drenches every part of my skin. I could hear the frogs sing. I enjoyed runing out in the rain for "sip-ups". Making boats and 'ships' were the major pass time, when ma is making a hot cup of coffee specially for me. Laying well tucked in on the bed with all the windows and doors open :D

As soon as it started it stopped, making me wonder if it was a dream.

Teaching Vs Learning

Got reply from my teachers today. I had sent them teachers day wishes. Looking back, my teachers (including my parents) are the ones that made me who I am. And I love them for that. Love you all.. :D

Hands down.. there is nothing as great as being a teacher. Until now I used to thing the opposite.

Its true that I worked as a guest faculty at a University for some time but at that point I was simply scared of being a teacher. All those people watching me very carefully, expecting dont know what, judging me, when I am the only one standing infront of them... alone.

Teaching small or big kids, is a huge responsibility. My biggest fear was I'll be molding their future, their lives... what if I was wrong? What if I taught them to be not them but someone else???
Now the same things makes me want to be a part of that great tradition. My students sometimes call me and tell me what they are doing now and where in life they are. That makes me proud.

I now understand that teaching is not just telling them what to do or not do or talking about a subject that you are 'expert' in. They can figure all that on their own. Teaching is just another word for learning. Most of us think these two are opposite words. But I realized it some time ago that its one and the same.

Teaching is basically giving others a new perspective. Not just your own but others too, especially of their peers. Everything that we learn is just a matter of perspective. Most of us are not able to see the other side of the picture until we turn the picture around. Teachers do just that. Help the students to turn the picture around by making them realize that there is another side to it.

You must be wondering how teaching and learning can be the same. Well, think about it. When teaching or when you giving other a point of view that they have never seen before you too get a new point of view. You learn. People from older generation used to say "Knowledge increases when you share it" and we all know that it is true. We have experienced it.

Doing combined study for exams and helping your friends with their homework and assignments. All these are almost always done thoughtlessly. We never thought that you get to learn something out of it. We just do it to help the other person. When I think of it now, I learned more clearly when I helped out others. I would miss out some lessons when I am learning on my own but make it up in combined studies. It was all a matter of give and take.

Now you see.. Sharing your knowledge is teaching which increases when you are learning. Hence, teaching and learning are one and the same. Like two side of the same coin. Its just a matter of perspective.

Happy learning...

Good old days

Saw the movie Always Kabhie Kabhie today. It was an okay movie, typical teenage dilemmas in school days but put in terms of this generation with mobile phones, internet and loads of pocket money. It kinda reminded me of my school and college days, when the only pass time was to spend time with friends talking, playing trick on one another, reading, gossiping or going for walks.

Hymavathi Kulam

One such evening in Kariavattom campus I can never forget is when 6 of my friends and I went inside the forests of the campus to the 'Hymavathy Kulam'- the pond where the ghosts dwell. Friends sneaked upon one another, making really weird noises from behind the trees and the huge rocks. Scary but fun walk it was.






Another time my friend and I had to attend a wedding. Like I said 'had to'. After lunch and best wishes we walked out to find that there were no autos or buses anywhere nearby. So I decided to walk when she wanted to wait for the bus. Being me I started walking. She had no choice but to follow me. Once we tackled the 1st kilometer she also started to enjoy the walk and we decided to walk all the way to Kovalam. We reached there around 4pm thirsty and fully spirited, decided to have a really cold drink. It started raining the moment we went into a restaurant and ordered our favourites - Lime Soda. Still can taste that lime soda I was sipping while watching the sea over the shoulders of some foreign tourist, getting drenched in rain.

Kovalam Beach Light House

Walking back home after school was the best part of the day. Blocking the road lined up with friends, eating pakodas and ullivadas and reviewing the days events... in short it was a blast. Singing loudly in the crowded hostel rooms, class rooms and corridors, playing catch with the kids across the quadrangle, sharing a snack and coffee in the canteen, etc are memories that still bring a happy tear in my eyes.



Well, good old days we call them. But what our next generation experience in their school days will one day be 'good old days' for them too.. But alas, some children never get a chance to experience all that. They 'grow up' never even knowing what it is like to be in school. They too have dreams like we did. They too deserve to be happy healthy and safe. They need education, our help, our support.



Please help a child reach his/her dream - http://www.ndtv.com/micro/supportmyschool/default.aspx



Let the good old days last for ever and always...

My addictions

Have you ever had the feeling that you have to go out and do something but just cannot get up from the couch?

Well, that's the case with me now a days. My heart tells me I want to go for a long walk or go to the shop near by to get milk and green chillies. But my body doesn't budge. It simply refuses to listen to me and move. The only thing that moves are my fingers changing the channels or the movies on my TV.

How did I get so addicted to the couch? Well, How can I ask such a stupid question? I know the answer.. I always was.

As far as I can remember I was in love with TV, books and movies. Now I can add computer to the list. Whenever I get free time I do nothing but watch TV, or do something online like read (switched to ebooks from paper backs and hard binds) or blog. Its never ending, you know.

If I'm watching TV there is something good in one channel or the other. Thank goodness, channels are never gonna get scarce. As I am interested in almost everything its pretty difficult to shut off the TV. Its F.R.I.E.N.D.S. on Star World or Food Paradise on TLC or Nat Geo Rush or Buck Stops Here on NDTV 24x7 or Trailers on Channel V or All About Ads on Profit or Monsters Inside You on Discovery or movies on all the movies channels you can think of or (last but not the least) Cartoons. Even if I get bored with all the 184 channels that are on my finger tips I can always plug in the hard disk and watch the movies and documentaries that I had downloaded.

That brings me to the online devil... Funny term.. Online... They say the new technology 3G mobiles keep you online all the time, keeps you connected to the world. Tell that to my friend whose 12 year old hardly finds time to talk to her after posting her thoughts and scrapping her friends. My friend has to get to know her child through Facebook, Orkut and Blogs. Tell that to the teachers who finds it a humongous task to keep their students "online" (in the traditional sense).

Well, you can' t always blame the internet. There are plus points too, like what I do online... :P
I mainly download movies, music, documentaries, books, series, etc., check my mails (most of which are forwards from friends and family, which I wish were not), blog, randomly search some topic and read, look for good recipes and other how to do stuff, post pictures in social networking sites, etc.. Pretty boring I know. But then at least I do get up from the couch in front of the TV and move to the couch in front of my PC. :)

You know what my second biggest addiction is? Walking. Can you believe it? I know, I know its too good to be true and so extremely extreme. But its true. Whenever there is no couch and I feel bored I go for long walks.

I used to go for long walks during my college days. I have walked all the way from Trivandrum to Kovalam, from Kakkanad to Marine drive and back, from Karapparamba through beach to Chalappuram, from Statue to Sreekaryam, to name a few.  I still go for long walks on the beach with my husband on weekends (whenever we find time to get off the couch that is).

So as I told you... my mind and body seem to be in totally different frequencies sometime. Like when I have a couch around and my mind tells me to get off my butt and go for a walk, my body responds as if there is Lakshman Rekha drawn around the couch. In all this confusion I have gained a lot... you know what I mean... ;)

My Fav

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
...J. R. R. Tolkien

Go not to the temple to put flowers upon the feet of God,
First fill your own house with the Fragrance of love...

Go not to the temple to light candles before the altar of God,

First remove the darkness of sin from your heart...

Go not to the temple to bow down your head in prayer,

First learn to bow in humility before your fellowmen...

Go not to the temple to pray on bended knees,

First bend down to lift someone who is down-trodden...

Go not to the temple to ask for forgiveness for your sins,

First forgive from your heart those who have sinned against you.
...Shri Rabindranath Tagore

For television viewers the choice is between Swadeshi and Videshi Vulgarity.

Television (TV) has become the major entertainment in our lives. The music shows, series, reality shows, news, cartoon, movies are all entertaining us day in and day out. There was a time when programs like Malgudi days, Rangoli, Turning point, Surabhi, Bomkesh Bakshi, Dekh Bhai Dekh, Ramayan were viewed with out missing even a single episode. Now may be due to the increasing number of channels and the remote control every one just browses through different channels watching 2 or more programs at a time.

Television is falling down a slippery slope. Quality TV programs are rare to find. Cursing, gratuitous violence, sex and vulgarity are now more "the norm" than the exception in all kinds of programs. The most popular meaning of vulgar is lacking refinement or good taste. Vulgar means conspicuously and tastelessly indecent. Oxford dictionary defines vulgar also as referring inappropriately to sex and bodily functions. Vulgarity is the quality of lacking good taste and refinement.

Indian television has gone a long way-“getting inspired” from the different American and British shows and producing the Swadeshi version of it. The difference is when one sees the original American or British version he/she feels it is ‘ok’, but when it comes to the Indian version one feels awkward. Adding unnecessary “drama” into soap operas and the reality shows make it really dragging. Thomas Carlyle equated vulgarism with materialism when he wrote "The deepest depth of vulgarism as that of setting up money as the Ark of the Covenant". Today Hindi and Malayalam Soap opera artists are materialistic to the extent that it definitely can be put into the vulgar category.

As far as the sexual content is concerned Indian TV programs are somewhat clean. But when it is used, it would have nothing to do with the story as such. This trend is slowly changing in Hindi cinema at least. Few new directors are judiciously using “kisses and hugs” in their movies. Malayalam, Tamil and Kannad TV industries are still where they were 5 years ago. On the other hand Videshi channels are said to have more vulgar content when compared to Swadeshi channels. There is always some sexual content in the foreign TV programs, but without it the story would be incomplete.

When it comes to the world of advertisements some western ads have irrelevant vulgar content when compared to Indian advertisements. For example Axe perfume Vs Park Avenue advertisements. In the westerns ads the concept is of attracting women but in Indian ads it is just smelling good and forming an identity.

According to David Foster Wallace, “TV is not vulgar and prurient and dumb because the people who compose the audience are vulgar and dumb”. What is vulgar and what is not will depend on one’s attitude. For some nudity is vulgar, for others abusive words and violence is vulgar. The same nudity that is considered as vulgar by some is considered as art by others. For example M. F. Hussain’s work, statues and sculptures in ancient Hindu temples, Deepa Mehta’s Fire, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s The Mistress of Spices, and Vatsyayana’s Kamasutra.

It is the situation and the person’s mood that makes things vulgar. The culture also plays an important role in forming ones view of vulgarity. Public display of affection is considered vulgar in Indian society but not in western culture especially French and American societies. Therefore, as it is said ‘Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder’, vulgarity also is in the eyes of the beholder.

My Dream 2-27/01/09

It was 12 o’clock. I know because this huge yellow ball of fire was smiling down at me right over the top of my head. My eyes took its time enjoying the colours of light, finally letting me know where I was. The sight was hideous, the smell horrible. But my face did not seem to notice any of that. I was expressionless. I could not express what I was feeling simply because I didn’t know what to feel. I just watched bluntly children running around in the slums of Mumbai, teenagers-smoking their lungs out and burning their veins, youth on the bus not missing an opportunity to pinch the boob or butt of any female in sight, father beating up his 8 year old son so as to make him work harder, mother putting her 2 month old (its ribs showing and its tummy swollen) in the cradle as the little one screams its head off. I took a deep breath and turned my head from the misery. The pungent smell of the gutter made me puke or was it the sight of a 16 year old giving a blow job to a 60 year old. Young half naked boys were fucking for survival. My churning stomach made me bend and apologise to the world for being so happy.

Then I saw that my foot was buried in snow-pure white snow and I was shivering. Every breath of mine was fogging my specs. I couldn’t see. I stood up straight and took off my specs, wiped it with the rim of the ever so soft cotton T-shirt that I was wearing. I put on the specs and knew immediately why I was shivering. I was surrounded by the Kashmir mountain ranges. I saw the beautifully blooming valley, the puffy clouds kissing the white mountain tops, the shikhara happily floating in the Dal Lake, and the little girl with a wide smile on her face bringing me lotus in her small row boat. A chilly wind made me blush as hundreds of men in dark green and black started scurrying past me. I looked back at the little girl. I saw that her smile was wiped away and the tears didn’t even get time to drop from her large shiny blue eyes. Her lotus was soaking in the red colour that was filling the little boat slowly, steadily. I was expressionless. I could not express what I was feeling simply because I didn’t know what to feel. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath trying to take in all the sweet smells of the flowers around me before it all was crushed to the ground and burnt. But all I could smell was the blood-fresh blood. I opened my eyes to see only smoke-black smoke.

The smoke was engulfing me into its blackness. My lungs were coughing hard to get it out. My hands were helping waving as hard as possible to get the smoke away from me-at least my face. I stumbled and sat down on the road, breathing wheezing slowly and heavily. The smoke was slowly clearing itself from my way mocking me at my defeat. As if it had other preys to hunt for. There were vehicles whizzing past me. People were walking by me, staring at me and shrugging. Anyway, I was relieved. I was free to get up and go. But I hesitated-just a second and then got up to my feet still swaying a bit. Suddenly I heard a loud noise behind me and everything went black again. I was expressionless. I could not express what I was feeling simply because I couldn’t feel anything.

When I opened my eyes I could see the ceiling fan not moving. I saw a leg in green plaster hauled up with white gauze and realized it was mine. I felt my head. It was there-ok. But now I could feel. It hurt really badly. Suddenly I felt my eyes welling up, tears rolling down my cheeks. I was happy-happy to be alive even in this cruel world, even in this state.

Many people came to meet me at the hospital. They brought me lots of flower, chocolates, cards, balloons, teddy bears, and what not. I was not enjoying it. I wanted to be left alone-alone with my happiness. The last thing I wanted was people reminding me that I am sick and hurt. It was then he walked in looking over the rim of the specs on his nose and that spectacular smile of his asking me what I was up to and when he can see me back in class. Five seconds after he stepped into the room his phone rang. He leaves the room saying good bye. I was just lying there smiling at the thought that he was the only one who did not mention I was sick and the only one who didn’t bother to wait for an answer. He was just… there.

That’s when the phone rang again… waking me… back to reality…

I Wrote a Poem… and then I was Fine!!!

It was a gloomy day
With gloomy flowers and gloomy sky
Life was not so fine with the pain
The source of which I couldn’t define

Did the day go wrong somewhere?
Or the night didn’t pass off completely?
‘What happened there?’ is the question that still remains
In my heart, on my mind, very clearly!

Life has always questioned me for what I am
I have questioned myself for what I am and what I want to be
These questions have tormented me for many days and nights
The quest to find what is really there in me

Not being able to answer
Not being able to decide
I still question myself
Am I not capable at all?
Or is it that I am running away
Because I fear that I would find out that I am not capable at all…

Fear… Fear has been dominating my life so far
Fear of defeat
Fear of reality
Fear that I am not what I think I am
Fear that I don’t want to ‘be’
Fear of ‘I’…

Just how do I get to know this ‘I’?
Why do I want to know anyway?
Even if I finally know ‘I’
What am I going to do with that knowledge?

I am in my room with no particular place to go to
I want to get up and get out of this place
I want to run away from myself for some time at least
I am going to find the solace

But what am I running away from?
Oh, yes!!! The disappointment that has just hit me hard
The desperation to know what I want
The disillusionment that I am going through right now

I will be fine when I know
When I stop running away
When I recognise what I actually want
When I realize, when I finally decide

When I talk to someone
When I write what’s on my mind
When I narrate what I feel
I feel relieved.

That is why I am writing this poem
Trying to talk to myself
‘Ventilating’-as it is called
To be fine

And then I wrote this poem…
But one question still remained
The question that pestered me from the beginning…
Am I going to be fine?

And then I heard that song from the distance
Those words caressed the sleeping beauties
They woke up with the touch of those ever so soft fingers
Smiling… Smiling at the dreams that they just had

And then I knew, even though it would take some time
I am going to be fine.

Kariavattom Campus: an Update

Yes!!! The world seems so weird now. Now that I have actually got out of the Campus-the Campus that taught me what amotivation is and the Campus that I simply wanted to run away from. It is like that Campus is pulling me right back-to itself, to the beautiful world of not doing anything and enjoying everything that comes ones’ way. Just waiting for everything to happen in its course; not doing anything on ones’ own; not taking the initiative or the effort to do anything-that’s what I thought the Campus taught me. That’s what I thought-till now, that is…

The moment I got out of that place I missed it. For the same reasons I hated it. For amotivating me, for being idle, for being effortless, for being what it is… I found that the real world is nothing like it is in the campus. Everything just doesn’t come to you. You have to work for it. You have to take the effort. It is a jungle out there. In the real world one cannot afford to be amotivated and idle. In the real world one has to take the initiative, the effort otherwise, that one will be exactly were that one was before. He or she will not move forward neither backward. If one is happy with being where they are now, well and good otherwise, it is really frustrating. It’s usually the latter, because of the most important thing that the campus teaches-‘to move forward, no matter what’.

In the campus I was special. I was the queen of my world. I was important. Well, the campus made me feel all that. It was just me and my campus… “MY Campus”… when it is no more-mine. It never was for that matter. But, now, why do I feel that belongingness that I never felt when I was actually there? Why am I missing it? May be because I found that in the real world I am just one among the others, struggling to be someone, fighting to create my own identity, striving to live… may be because I understand now that life just doesn’t come to you so easily as it did in the campus… may be because I am afraid to go into the real world… or may be because I just loved (even though I kept denying it) the campus…

As they say, ‘you never know the importance of something in your life until you lose it and someone else has it’.

Why???

Why are there dew drops on the leaves every morning?
Why do the rain drops come down to the earth?
Why is it that the sun rises and sets, to rise again?
Why do children cry at birth?

Why is life so complicated?
Why life is not yet understood?
Why is life sometimes so senseless?
Why does life sometimes feel endless?

Why have the reasons not found the answers yet?
Why did the light not shine on the quest?
Why didn’t the fish get out of the net?
Why have I not got what I deserve to get?

Why is there this emptiness in me that everyone seems to see?
Why is there the fear in me that everyone seems to know except me?
Why have the words of people I do not care about influence what I feel?
Why is there a life in me with which I don’t want to deal?

Why are there so many questions in me?
Why isn’t the darkness driving me crazy?
Why is it that I do not seem to know what I want to be?
Why are the words deserting me?

Why do we hurt someone whom we love the most?
Why does my heart pain when you’re crying?
Why do we find happiness in the wounds given by someone we love?
Why does my soul search for the pain that resists dying?

Why am I searching for the meaning?
Why am I thinking these thoughts?
Why am I trying to analyze myself?
Why? Am I going to hit the rocks?

Why???

My Dream

The first thing I can remember is calling Immanuel sir, to ask him if he has corrected my methodology draft. He told me that he had done a little and he was very angry with me for not coming to him for discussing this before. “You are living so near to my home. Why can’t you come and visit me? We could have discussed the topic and made some progress.” Then I say, “I just want you to correct the work. Especially organize the review of literature.” He says, “I will do that, you just have to tell me what to do. Ask me for help. You simply did not show up after giving me the draft. What is wrong with you? What is bothering you? May be you think you can do it all alone, but we could have at least discussed what you have done so far. Well come and meet me in the department in 15 minutes.”

The time is 6pm. I can clearly see that on a very big black clock with white dial, and black numbers and needles. The seconds needle is making a loud sound every time it moves. That is making me very uncomfortable. I cannot see where the clock was mounted but I can see the clock very vividly.

Then I find my self in the department where Immanuel sir is waiting at the door. I ask him if he is in a hurry to go somewhere and he says he is waiting for me. Then for a long time we discuss my thesis work, read journals, and rewrite some of the work already done. He then asks me, “What is bothering you?”, and I say, “nothing”. We, for some reason, go to the computer lab and Immanuel sir switches on all the computers there. I simply sit there in a corner watching the lady (unknown to me) sitting in one of the chairs in front of the computer. I ask her who she is. She says, “It’s none of your business. I am a researcher and I am here for my work.”

When I look for Immanuel sir, he is not there. But Prathibha ma’m was there with lots of journals in her hand. I look at the clock again and its 6:45pm. I tell ma’m that I have to go to the hostel, at least by the 7pm university bus. She says she has to go too, and looks at the lady. The lady smiles and they both get up to go out. I too go out of the lab and Immanuel sir is standing near the door with the locks. I then see the university bus driving away. I get really angry and switch of all the lights and shut the grills with the teachers inside. I watch them run towards me and let them try to open the grill but they are not able to. So then I smile and open the grill.

All of us get into Immanuel sir’s car and go to this big hall. The sky is bright by now and the clock showed 10am. The hall has two doors on the opposite sides and there is a long table in the corner. Sheri is sitting on chair on one end of the table with lots of paper in front of her and a tape recorder, which she is repeatedly rewinding and listening to through her ear phones. I walk towards her asking what she is listening to and she gives me the ear phone. When I hear the first tune of the song playing in it I understood which the song was and start singing the song-Tere man ki ganga aur mere man ki jamuna ka, bol radha bol samgam hoga ke nahin.

I turn around, still singing the song and walk to the other end of the hall to go out through the door on the other side. On the way I see Sebastian staring at me. He is holding a sweet and cute little child in his arms and the child is busy looking around the room. I really want to go and hold the child but as I didn’t want to go near Sebastian I keep singing the song and walk out of the door.

There is a small uncovered veranda from which steps go down to the ground level and there are lots of trees and a small pond beside these. I get down and see Sebastian standing there, with the child. Now both of them are gazing at me. I cannot resist the temptation to play with the child and I go near. I touch the child’s cheeks and play with him for a while before asking him to come to me. The child jumps from Sebastian’s arms to come to me but Sebastian doesn’t let the child go. The child struggles to get out of Sebastian’s arms, hitting him and pushing him away, but still he hold on tight.

I get angry and ask him why he is not letting the child go, why he is not letting me hold the child for some time. He doesn’t say anything. By this time the child starts crying. I cannot stand that and I get really angry. I ask him again and again, “Why can’t I hold the child? I am mature enough to take care of a child. I have taken care of children before. He wants to come to me too. Why are you not letting him come to me? Please, can I hold him for sometime at least???”

He holds the crying child very close to him and simply shakes his head, looking right into my eye… smiling. Then he walks away, without saying a word.

I stand there alone, in the middle of all those trees and the pond beside it, crying… uncontrollably…

Kariavattom Campus

It all started with the day I stepped into this campus gate with my parents to get the application form for the M. A. Psychology course. Did I know it would turn up like this? No…. Not at all…

Kariavattom Campus... well, the first day here was great… A really motivated girl, full of dreams about her future, her destiny… She wanted so many things to happen in her life. She wanted to ‘learn’ how to be a prefect psychologist, she wanted to be the best at everything she puts her head into… In short, as every person in this campus, she also came with a hope that she would be “someone” once she finishes the course here.

Then one day, I came to join the Department of Psychology and also the University Hostel for Women, with a load of bags and suitcases, bed, buckets, everything… everyone kept staring at me, may be even thought “what a strange girl???”. My first few days in the department were scary. One doesn’t know what others expect of you, what one needs to do, and what is supposed to be done. The scary days passed and the boring days came in. There was nothing much to do in the department, actually… there was a lot to do but I did none. Tried reading books from the department library, but it would be closed whenever I felt like going in there and reading or should I say I felt like going in there whenever it was closed. The campus library was like a lullaby to me (it still is!!!) the moment I go in there, I sleep.

I agree that campus is a very beautiful place, with its trees, ‘Haimavathi Kulam’, and off course the Campus ‘Ooty’, but one cannot go to these places alone (well, it takes some time to make friends who would go out with you…). There were no shops or hotels nearby too…On top of every thing it was my first time in a hostel (you know how hostels are…). Liked the food and every thing, but got a bit home sick as we (Mom, Dad, & I) used to go out a lot when I was home. Then my only way out was to go to my Mom and Dad (who were at Kollam at that time). For weekends I would go to Kollam, every single weekend.

Days passed by, semester passed by… The first semester exams were taken very seriously, prepared for each for whole 2 days (that’s what I used to do). Assignments and seminars were prepared in an extensive way. Oh boy, was I motivated. Life moved on, the 2nd sem started and towards the middle along came the laziness, slowly, steadily, very determined… ‘Amotivation’, that’s what we, the psychology students, called it. Preparation for the exams started getting restricted to the day before the exam (motivation would come only then). Assignments and seminars were prepared in a day or two.

The social life was on full bloom. Got lots of friends (in the department as well as in other departments and the hostel) and had fun chatting, gossiping, with them on the divider. We went exploring into the ‘forests’ near the Environmental Science, Malayalam, and Politics departments whenever we got a chance. We had fun in the canteens, coffee from the store, demanding treats for every silly reason, at the occasional ‘gana mela’ and so on and so forth. I got to learn a lot about life from my friends and the friendships, from the teachers and staff in the department as well as in other offices.

Third semester also went on like this, full of fun, boredom, excitement, laziness, etc., etc… Trips to home were reduced drastically (mainly because Dad got transferred to Kanhangad). I started enjoying the campus life to a certain extent. Towards the middle of the 4th sem it suddenly struck me… The Dissertation. Where did all the motivation that I came here with go? What happened to that girl’s hopes and dreams?

It is not my story alone. It is felt by most of us in the department and (I’m sure) by students in other departments as well. Many have told me that they had so many expectations about this campus, that they will get the best training here in their respective subjects, that they will be busy all the time with their work, that they will not be able to get any free time to enjoy themselves, etc. But we have seen that this, to a certain extent, is not true. We do have lots of free time to enjoy ourselves; we are not at all busy with our work all the time (even when we should be…). Ok, so we do get the best facilities (experts in the field-the faculty, library, etc) here, but do we utilize it? No, most of us don’t.

It is said that “Once a person joins the Kariavattom Campus, he/she either finds ‘life’ or gets a Ph. D” and most of the time its true too. One either falls in love with someone here and gets married or studies really hard and gets a Ph. D. As far as I can see the most brilliant, the most talented people, with great potentials come here. Then why is it that many feel ‘amotivated’? What is the reason for the laziness that is felt to be induced into us? It is true that most of the students who passed out from here are in very good positions, but did they feel ‘amotivated’ too when they were here? Do students in other universities feel the same way during there 2nd and 3rd semesters? If all Post Graduate students felt the same, has it got something to do with their age? So many questions… no answers yet…

Hey! I could do my dissertation on that!!! Well, too late…