say cheese...!!!

...................well these smiling faces there may not together reflect the technological aspirations we share but the truth is we are the 2010 batch who are technically trained for being technologically  bright! Of course that is why you find our smiling faces here. IT-A 2010 batch!!!!Spotting  out the specific personalities in terms of their seemingly common trait will be tough without defining the extraordinary values and adjectives. Hence I find this the best place to  explain the sarcasm behind each smiling faces. Extending the smile to the biggest smartest laugh, introducing the ACTOR with USE-CASE “whatever be the time, wherever I be, I keep laughing 24*7”.  ACTOR,USE-CASE don’t confuse he is out of class not just in OOMD hour but is an all-time teacher’s pet. Off the sarcasm , the real pets robe the front bench studious in all perspective. The class topper without whom the rest struggle to submit the assignments. I accept the inefficiency of talking about the speciality of first bench but I can very well explain about the studious souls ..the topper, the sweet smiling girl, the nervous girl. The three who hold up the class average. the  first and second bench of this middle section of my class will remain ruled by trios no matter which class room we get. Followed by them is the stars.. the dubbing artist( the only girl who hence made a film entry), the pop singer (the waka-waka girl who is popular not in class , not in department but in the whole college) ,the seemingly beauty queen (blue eye liner ambassador who whole heartedly miss the class taking care of silly pimples). Among all this stars there in the other side is the dimpled girl letting the whole class enjoy the endless breaks in between the class with her endless doubts. If the boredom strikes you hard and an emergency photostat need to be acquired then all thanks to the Jaipur girl’s benevolence. Else if the party time is on and an emergency cake cutting ceremony is planned, here comes the coordinator in his Apache “KL 63 4239” all ready to buy the cake. I bet most of the cakes we tasted had an Apache ride before. Its rude if you conclude we are in short of bike riders because the real rider who had put himself the part of accidents still continue to “race hard or die trying”. Lucky he is, not because he saved himself from accidents but for the company he earn. “either you race hard or try hard or meet accidents I am with you” mind blowing is this mind set of the green dio owner irrespective of the trouble it brings in. while going garrulous about the bikes and the rest, its time to introduce the ‘auto-riksha girl’. ‘No matter how much time she has to wait, how hot the day be , how short the distance be , she continue waiting for the auto. So  if you find someone next to her with a smile less delightful, understand today is not a strike day . strike!! She will soon rush home irrespective of the day,date ,time and the rest. Sometimes this not so far native will let students jump out of class , run to catch bus , and go home, sleep, come back. For this the second rank holder is the ‘touch-me-not-i-will-fall” girl. Hence they both always missed the beauty of a strike day in cusat. May be to balance, we have the shortest but the wildest speaker stays in hostel the most for her native being the farthest . The adjective sounds too senseless when there exist the north Indians. The C.R : its really a serious tag but for his understanding of Malayalam we have successfully redefined the tag ( its wise not to reveal the tag as his understanding of English is quite good), the Technical maestro except for the expertise he exhibit in lab we are hardly affected by his technical knowledge , the seminar boy : his seminars never let us sleep as he will finish it off long before we think about sleep, the boy with sweetness in his name and not in sound, the boy who stare suspiciously and the singer( don’t expect him to be a great singer but jus appreciating the attitude he own to popularise his little singing talent), the seemingly childish face (for his face expression he is and not for his acts). The mix of this seven unique characters mark the basic need of using English when on platform. “arrreeeyyyy sunnn nnnaaaaa…..” sounds like a ‘miss hit’ not just here but he himself is. I still don’t understand when did palakkad district changed their mother tongue hindi , or  better the cause of his attraction towards hindi talking pupil. Attractions that ended up defining the pairs of this class does not require explanations, still my job is to introduce I am directly jumping to library. With the hope that this will never force them to embellish the times they sign in to library. She in the story does the biggest service of bringing  herself, him, and few more  delicious lunch. Whatever be whoever brings the food or anything that can be classified as eatable, the giraffe girl(the basketball player) is there always. A popular figure who is the brand ambassador of nothing but ‘umbrella’ is so fond of eating that nothing good go into your mouth before reaching her nose (a line of apology “I am exaggerating in the best possible way my friend ). Sometimes the heights of exaggerations can  let you discover the “pseudo sport’s-captain” of this class. Did you know? When in school she happened to hold the torch and the hot wax fell on a finger among the five . next the gang G lead: five is very important for him with respect to the number of friends and will never bother or better snoop to rest issues. While he can’t find enough time, this girl will be an extreme case. Though she is recorded as a student of “IT-A”, if you fail to see her in our class don’t get confused.!   She is “IT-A girl found in IT- B”. Finding people in my class is otherwise less complicated than any sorting algorithm u ever  know. Perhaps the campus scare them, whatever be the hostellers at the  back bench is the typical example. They are always self-contented in their own world. A world where trespassers are strictly prohibited: and to extend let me add the other two day scholars of this world. One who crosses the sea if he ever wish to be in class and the other who screech if Ms. 21 miss her roll call. When it comes to roll call even the crew in the arms of Morpheus would end up looking straight to the platform and manage a “yes mam”. While every studious soul in the class keep staring the teacher , scribbling every single point that spill out of her knowledge reserve , there are few like me and you who just don’t get along this all the time. Sometimes things stultify and we are off the track. But you don’t bother  looking straight to the teacher and invite her “yes! Ask me a question” unlike the curly haired best throw ball player of my class. Not just throw ball, we got the representation in track and field too. The  eldest athlete with whom starts the alphabetic sorting of our class. Though the eldest is his tag; the true brother of this class is the seemingly silent introvert (for each adjective here I emphasis the coat of sarcasm !). his gang of trio is not complete without the Mammooty fan who travel all around the campus in his “Royal Enfield”. With the Queen of his dreams always sitting in front.!! To add to the list there are many more : the ambassador of ‘indulekha hair care oil’ (u expect a girl right?! No !! it’s that tall guy ..), followed by the student of ostensible trait which reflects his kottayam nativity, the politician who made me startle, seeing his performance on a strike day here in Cusat and I hope he will not be as well startled when the same teacher publish his internals. Ohhkkk now I wish all my friends are not startled reading this. I  don’t  want anyone to grapple with a change for hence getting featured. All of the above are stuffed with exaggeration and sarcasm and are aimed at flourishing the fun factor!! Its also obvious you end up finding the missing introduction and thereby killing my anonymity. , but the truth is : “this is the outcome of an internet lab discussion among few in this group photo” this has been modelled neither to pulse up your anger nor to stir up the hatred , let this be the cause for your smile each time you turn this pages..today.. tomorrow .. and ever after!!!

Note: this was supposed to be a royal surprise for my beloved class mates when they get the magazine’13! With a heartfelt apology for every flaws there , for which I am not the reason..the same is published in my own blog ..with no great complications!! :P also if I am to write the same today , it must me a new list of tags u all will have… that awesome is this class .:P

the ghost city!

This is my first attempt to explain the strange communication a place brought in me. I had not felt the same before. I am speaking about  spiritually top ranked DHANUSHKODI . I had been to this land thrice and I perfectly recollect the last two.: its nothing interesting to brief a unique natural wonder as The land of losts. But it let me no other choice. Five years back I was travelling  the whole of tamil nadu skipping the metropolitan capital city. I was stunned by the richness of heritage in sculptures , mesmerised by the art and the talents showcased in the tall gopuras, confused hearing the believes and watching the practices. There were very few historic places that asked me ‘you remember the time being here?” though I don’t believe the hindu mythologies of punarjanma they made me thoughtful. May be that’s called the eternal power those landmarks have gained ovea centuaries, may be that’s nothing beyond the fascination of visiting an epitome of mysteries and histories, may be that’s a feel neither I can explain nor you can understand .While it was time to pack up I remember the inner mind reassuring a visit again. Hence the fate has played its game well enough to fulfil my reassurance ..two months back I again visited ‘dhanushkodi’ unexpected in all respects. Quite simple was the story line though it was hard for the emotional beings like me. Being in a hindu family to visit this end of INDIA , at its worst a death itself is a cause. The belief  of disposing the last solid evidence of  a life : the  ashes.. into the sacred sea of rameswaram  perhaps that alone make the  living souls self contented. Not sure about debating the idea, that is some way considered to be the last karma that is left to make the lost happy. i did walk parallel to my uncle over a distance across the silent bay of Bengal watching him do the left ritual perfectly. Perhaps what ruled  my thoughts were even hurting than the scene. I was finding better reasons to prevent crying, to stop thinking. But then the sea itself is silent, the silence it earned and showcase to dissolve the pain of losses. I could feel the sympathy it shared with people like me. The shades of blue under the burning sun had the experience of ages .. receiving the last grievances ..unlocking the tag of commitments with the living world  . Then it was me there watching, tomorrow it may be the others to make me happy. Hence the phenomenon  continues…


 It was not the necessity  of the situation , still with no thought I found myself walking through the hot sand to reach the temple (well I found none to share ). In the midst of unfamiliar crowd ,who spoke diverse languages there I was to finally dissolve into the seas my pain. I felt the wetness not from the theerthas but from my tears, praying for a lost soul was all I had to do. Somewhere in the long run I grasped an idea, silence is the best solution to regain the state. The task of reassuring the lost hence came to its end , in the world of silence I still refreshed the memories desperately searching  a room to  lock the  pain. But this place just taught me more evident base.


While standing above the seas  appreciating the deep blue shades of water and the rail that crossed the seas, there were thoughts about the indefinite distance, the dreams of sailing towards the horizon, to be as far as possible. At those stares I remember the  narrow merging of land to the seas..!! the controversial Ram sethu .. I wanted to reach there and check if my view spots Sri Lanka. Perhaps till I moved into the boat-engine-van (I  don’t know if they have any specific name ) to set foot in the ghost land I was struggling with my own thoughts. The travel through the sea.. passing the thorn trees.. confused with its ruins and the dilapidated remains... how can one call it to be a sea.. still its ..the calmness .. the silence.. the loneliness.. its strange in all respect! Dissolved in the strange feeling I was more curious in capturing every single scene . differentiating neither the sea nor the shore through the damp land we kept moving.


REACHING: you cant use your own means instead have to rely on those specially designed vehicles or the tempo of local fisherman. Anyone like me and you will be astonished by the ways things work out but believe me it’s all chained by trust. The trust we keep on the anonymous driver is all that  make you reach there.

Though   all along the trip we feel the van is going to topple, the beauty of water and sand dunes partially projecting the evidences of a lost rich cultured township will never let you bother anything else  .  Anyways the vehicle design is not sophisticated and smart to spare from breakdowns or other wear and tear..  if so stay where you are waiting for the next crew to come. In the midst of excitement do realise you are in that end of world with no source of communication.. still  an assurance while grasping the strangeness you will never infer all these scary  topics …

Most of the local people use this as the means of transportation!

I cud hardly imagine a life there.. an ordinary traveller with whatsoever be the emotional heaviness is allowed to this place till dusk. I was clueless about surviving until I found a girl ..in a place that is officially tagged as ghost city she walks fetching water for life. .reminding me about a portrait..

We  got down…  the sand dunes covered with the parasitic  bushes..  and where I stood contained the old railway station.. Though I had enough knowledge about the cyclone of 1964 I never expected it to drastically remind us the extend of disaster but it did, even after decades it did.. a story long said is yet to reach its completion.. the land still breathe in through the remains.. a township that once stole the heart of countless tourists still weep over the marooned dreamz... the thought of rebuilding , rehabilitating is long dissolved in the salt water..  no visible signs to rehash.. to count I didn’t find that many people.. still around 500 people still define their life in this lonely sea..  either to uphold the richness this land once had or to remind the December that never can fade off..

The skeleton of a church that still hold on its pride , not giving a chance to collapse invited me in.. the architectural accomplishments were done with corals.. the altar had scribed names of visitors , touching the odds i felt remembering the prayers that once brightened the church atmosphere, recollecting the joy the people of an unknown age once shared.. with heartfelt sadness I realise they lost it all . walking through the hot sand I found a crafts shop with a solar panel .. (the minimum trace of real world customisation).. selling all creative pieces out of every sea products.. my attempts to know the about the main land connections taught me the 500 inhibitors here were too much adapted to this place no matter the communication nor the developments... May be because they had it all once and just don’t bother losing it again.

finally I was there… unaware of the fact ‘Ceylon is matter of 90km travel’…  the shore that defined loneliness.. how can a sea shore be so  lonely? Yet  making me stand speechless there was the silent bay of Bengal... inviting me to walk into the blue sea trying to cut the tag of misteries.. adding on to my astonishment, I turned back tracking the roaring of Indian Ocean.. hence realising my position between  the seas ..away from the world of routine business..  the contrast that prevailed may provoke a wanderlust to explore ….nvea be shocked if you follow the heart and find yourself moving forward..  noise vs silence!! 

And for those who truly remember the story of the 100 train travellers of 1964.. you conclude a hearty consolation facing the silence.. it kept reminding me  those travellers who never reached the destination dissolved their souls into this seas.. balancing the sorrow of an unheard train tragedy with waves that seeking attention…  born to the spiritual land that not just redounded to be a tourist hub, thrashed their dreams with no procedural cremation.. with no black box stories to back up an unforgettable night hence got  delineated in the history!

In any efforts to fulfil the dream of Jaunting around the world, nvea miss a chance to feel the heaviness of this seas.. because it has the power to substitute any staunch emotion of ours with decades old loss..  sympathy is not what we feel nor its unique beauty seek for.. instead  a candour mind to share the silence.. while ending this post , it seems I have travelled a long way from my own emotions ..that is the place all about..it speaks a story that could burn your sorrows.. set your thoughts wander beyond the limits.. the contrast.. the parallel existence of beauty and ages old mystery.. the me who badly wanted to end the emotional thoughts travelled a long distance to feel this haunted story..  finally realising the distance travelled..

Perhaps this strangeness is obvious, positioning myself at the start of Ramsethu .. if this again is fate.. I don’t think its wise to start the controversial religious arguments here.. but for someone like me I hardly could avoid my senses not to believe the story..  I leave that part to your own belief and knowledge!!  may be the extend of destruction caused is what that forced the world define the place “the ghost city” but at the end I find the land unobtrusive.. if not the people the variety of sea birds that migrate there for a season  would support me ..!!

NOTE: I didn’t mean it to be an entertaining journey..so I was not prepared ..the pics here are all captured using a Galaxy S2..and with no thought of using them here… this is my first experiment , explaining about a trip..sorry if its not worth reading :P!to my dearest frnd..u missed such a chance hope this helped u realising the same..:P this is one such part of the world that would stimulate rivulets of thoghts…

@ twenty!!!

Finally I am twenty!! Its two decades since I am into this world of life. To the people who know me the best can understand the style that I prefer to state the same. this post here may not be the best as its an attempt to explain about myself. To quote my cousins there exist none in ma family who celebrate birthdays like I do.
A customary schedule has evolved without my own knowledge. Color papers, balloons, cakes, chocolates ,gifts , hearing my bdae song being sung by the lil tots in family.. omg it’s a day!! At the end before I call of my day I use to wonder ‘how special they all make my day?’. Its neither my dad nor mom who got to worry arranging things it’s the rest. I even had  celebrated my bdae cutting two cakes together. For all this I am great full to my own fate. That brought me reach my mom on may 6 (the summer holiday.after vishu :P.). May 6 , 1993 :  ‘budha pournami..’ the only day I cried at my mom’s smile.. its then a journey perfectly a roller coaster ride. Now so much happened that I remember some to blog about . to start with I infer from the elder family members that I was damn lazy. And there are few great incidents staring me and only me which once pulled in the whole crowd in and around the locality. Those are the incidents mom still recollects and laugh. Frankly speaking it took few years for me to laugh with her. At times I feel proud of that 2 year old kid in me ‘just royal’ is all her acts! [miss u gal]… I  never made any trail of planting a tree or any such “suggested birthday “ celebrations so far. I never had to go with chocolates to my class. I  never thought of being with mom and dad on this day but always wanted to be with grandma and cousins. I  never bothered thinking how will the day be , its obviously made special. I never bothered helping the ladies in kitchen, its obvious the birthday girl will have her grand sadhya with my favourite payasams. It took 20 years for  me to have a birthday off the customs.  the sentimental revolutions that I had after my grandma’s loss must have helped me digest the change. So finally I found time to make my own present. birthdays were never friends oriented but family oriented until I reached 12^th. [Its in 12^th I first and last had to stand facing my class while they were singing my bdae song..omg! that was so embarrassing I stil remember the mess I made. ] if I am to talk about family celebration one post may not do the task so I think its wise to make my theme shift from the same. Till 5 years I had been a big headache for my mom, I was never impressed by her scary stories that I hardly had any heroes to even think about before doing the kindergarten sins of those days. I appreciate her patience teaching me the rhymes, I hated going to school, I always wanted my own wishes to come true ,no matter wthr  that fit in with others schedule. Still I wonder how did she manage training me good enough to be on stage. Thanks to my mom stage fright was never my trait, from the action song I first presented to the last Malayalam recetition I did in college I owe you the credit. Perhaps then  when I first won the proficiency  in 6^th I myself felt I can be tagged studious too. Well I had no ostentatious like of my classmate as I was the class leader for many years till 9^th. Now this again has to do with my ways I was always belligerent with that noisy section of my class. I was keen on reporting all those to the teachers. And  those childish trait of mine had earned me strong rivalry with boys specially but certain special rights from teachers (like reading daily news in the morning assembly..) .hindi was the only subject I hated to the core. Today  I deeply regret for ignoring my national language until 9^th. From 9^th its again a new era of changes I had more friends ..i was no longer the class leader.. I was off the shoes of leadership then. I  was shifted to the last school where I did both my 10^th and 12^th..to number my 7^th school.

                                 Still confused  , the school had not just helped me get through the so called turning points with smart percentage but lot more. This is the place I  discovered the depth of my crazy ideas …I realised the depth of friendship.. the beauty of gangism.. the real time gossiping .. the passionate competition against the rest.. all thanks to the KASHians… gals damn crazy we were..  hence I can blog about , we made the diary .. we shared the friendship..

                                    To college was another chapter in all respect.. the vacations scheduling was badly affected.. so was my plans in all respects.. 

                                      I never dreamed of owning a blog someday.. but my dreamz were always to reach the sky.. I had never loved anything as much as the stars and the sky. It was my all time   dream to feel the lightness of the outer space.. I have heared people appreciate the uniqueness of my idea. There exist a time when life demands your choice and sometimes we try our best but end up late. All I was sure of becoming was an engineer!! And I surely can be.. that is the holy purpose behind my entry to CUSAT.

                                     Okk.. I am not here planning a dig out strategy about my precious twenty years.. neither am I thoughtful about my gains and losses.. I m indeed talking about the lessons.. now to my blogger friend I didn’t mean to be philosophical or to manipulate the words.. I have to agree there is a limit for any spoon feeding that u n me can get.. life is even adventurous with little little things.. its indeed intresting..sophisticated.. simple..

                                      The expectations!! I expect a lot.. from each silly thing I do.. I dream a lot about every silly plan.. I don’t know how often I picture things before working it out.. may be that is what is called planning.. at times its with this expectations I never come in truce.. to my dearest anti-sentimentalist I don’t know the times we both together tried sorting this out..still I am the same.. the continuum of hard times I had have  a great pillared support of these expectations..

                                         Life at this point grab from me a single compliment ‘its simple’.. its nothing complicated  for me to blog about the dreams.. the traits.. the days.. there were times the peacemaker in me find no way in terms with the optimist.. I am not hilariously proclaiming I overcame all.. but just that you can never be off such times.. at times it’s the loved ones.. may be hug .. may be a smile.. may be a word.. may be look.. I feel relieved.. they does the magic! I don’t know how good I m to others in that role.. at times its just me.. where you keep searching for definitions.. confidence.. strength.. within.. at the end to attain a fine state..

                                              The lost !! Well this has got a lil to do with me.. “never settle for less than your dreams.. somewhere, sometime, someday, somehow, you will find them ”.. I still blve to live for that day.. and the me don’t realy love to accept the lost . for some reason there were very few things I had to give up.. and for those I lost I easily cook up a justification.. most of my wishes being pertinacious (as mom says) if I fail there .. this girl for sure is gonna make a mess!! I don’t either think its fair but the same is a factor for this blog even..

                                                   The change!! Twenty years I can feel the difference in ways,in means, in thoughts, in people.. nevertheless I have learned to adapt.. The walls of my room that once entertained me with countless number of posters( subjecting astronomy) are no more the same.. the logical world of programming is still not encouraging the euthanasia of my great dream...on this 20 ^th birthday I am self-contented with this unusual-nothing special-bday, with the wishes from expected and unexpected, with no complaints about who wished..who didn’t.. when u wished..!!hence with a simple smile I realise it’s the change that time demands..   beyond the science , beyond the logics, pragmatism  has found its flavour in all my doings.

Note: this post may not make a big impact on my readers nor I demand one.. I may not be rich in relations.. may not bother things the way they require.. I m not the omnipotent to rule.. I m just me.. and the purpose of this being “the day when there is more salt than pepper in my hair.. if I find this it may make the RIGHT impact!! “….. :P