The (Urban) Youth Conundrum

India, a country that was once synonymous with snake charmers and elephants, is today most identified with the burgeoning youth of the country. According to demographics, half of our 1.2 billion population comprises people under 25 years of age, the so called youth of the country. It is commonplace to hear how the youth of the country will be harbingers of change and progress, how the youth will lead India on its way to becoming a global superpower et al. Is that really the case?

Taking potshots at the government, condemning corruption, questioning issues like reservation, making ignorant judgements about current affairs is an everyday occurrence amongst the urban youth of the country. Indulging in India bashing is as fashionable as owning the latest Blackberry or iphone. This of course is a limited exercise as the rest of their time and energy is spent in beauty salons and gyms or watching MTV Roadies and Big Boss. If only our leaders were bikers and enjoyed voyeurism, politics be so much more interesting. Right?

Also, according to a report 3 lakh Indian students are studying abroad, primarily in USA, UK, Australia and Canada. So while a large percentage of the youth of the country choose to pack suitcases for western shores; five years from now I can only imagine them having Sunday brunch at a five star hotel indulging in more India bashing, rather than being initiators and drivers of positive change in the country.

At this juncture I’d like to discuss the education system of our country. “The idea of education is to learn to think for yourself” (The Dead Poets Society). In India, however the idea of education takes on a completely different meaning. Education in India implies beating the competition by getting better scores. This sense of competition is instilled at a young age and it gets cancerous with age. It would be foolish to suggest that it is a wrong thing. In a country as populated as India, merit is probably the only consistent indicator of excellence. Marks scored in the tenth and twelfth standard determine what career path one should take. The great Indian middle class mentality hasn’t changed much over the years. Higher marks would translate to a doctor or engineer in the making. A lower score would mean a science, commerce and arts graduation, in that order. A booming economy has helped change people’s mindsets but by and large things continue to be the same.

Majority (not all) of the youngsters get into a graduation program, not because they have an aptitude for it, but because circumstances, social dictums and marks suggest they take up a particular field of study. Having said that, it would be safe to assume that once they get into a professional course, they would take the opportunity to make the most of what should ideally be a different kind of education. Specializing in a particular field should open one’s mind to think, to dream of the endless possibilities and to aspire to do something with that education. Unfortunately, marks continue to haunt the Indian youth in professional courses as well. Higher marks would mean getting into a good post graduation program or the chance to sit for placements. Consequently, most of the youngsters get caught in this vicious cycle, and only a few have the courage to challenge this age old system and break out of it. So, in essence most of the youngsters are cast out of the same mould, a mould that doesn’t encourage free thinking. On the brighter side, however, the number of people taking steps to challenge this mentality is increasing all the time.

To bring about the clichéd change in the world, we need an education that fosters free thinking, an education that ennobles the concept of holistic learning. Getting there will take time and consistent efforts by policy makers. Steps have been taken by the government under the 11th five year plan (2007-2012), where in education has been given substantial impetus to bring about inclusive growth. On the urban educational front however, much needs to be done to change mindsets. I believe that the Prime Minister, along with the Education Minister should travel to all major metropolitan cities conducting rallies where they interact with graduate and post graduate students directly, sensitizing them on the issues plaguing the country and highlighting the benefits of a good all round education and how the country actually needs the youth to be leaders of tomorrow. ‘An each one-teach one’ campaign on a national level, should be government initiated and steps should be taken to make it compulsory within the curriculum across education boards. This would serve three purposes, one- to encourage the urban youth to come to terms with the realities; two- to inculcate in them a sense of responsibility towards the society; three- to help give them a sense of reason and direction with respect to their education.

“Hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things and no good thing ever dies” (The Shawshank Redemption) I am hopeful that the youth of the country give up their callous chalta hai attitudes and take proactive steps towards making things better. I am hopeful that the brain drain decreases progressively. I am hopeful that the youth of the country triple our GDP. I am hopeful that the youth of our country eliminate the literacy problem. I am hopeful that the youth of the country eradicate poverty. I am hopeful that the youth of the country make India a superpower in its true sense. I am confident however, that the youth can deliver if they choose to. Whether or not this happens, time will tell. Hope.

Happy New Year ?

My new year began with two results

I hoped that I would not mope but exult

But FMS and the IIMs chose to play bluff and slots

SP Jain happened to call the right shots

Somewhere down the road, I'll find reprieve or I'll start a cult!

Hope your new year has had better starts.

Happy New Year!

Sick Leave

I was a little unwell yesterday, and was out most of the day. That explains my first default in the last 13 days. I'll come up with something by this evening though.

Hairy Nomad

Holiday

Fatigue has set in. Unfortunately. Also exam fever. Have one next Sunday. XAT. Also some other things. Mishmash.

Today was Santa Claus's day

Wish he would not go and stay

I still haven't found what I am looking for

Santa please give me strength a bit more

How can it be Christmas when I didn't even sing Jingle all the way.

Apologies,

Hairy Nomad

p.s: Tomorrow I will try to come up with a proper thing.

Happy Santa Day!

So, it is Christmas eve today. Makes sense for me to write a Christmassy post. I'd like to share some school memories from Christmas time.

Our Diwali vacations, unlike other schools were just two weeks long. They were generally spent studying, because once school reopened we would have to sit for our Second term exams. Diwali holidays for us, apart from the main three days of frolicking were usually a mundane affair. But it was worth it, because what followed post exams were three weeks of unbridled enjoyment. Soon after the exams, classes were called off and the entire school from Jr. Kg to Std 10 was engulfed with Christmas concert fever. We had an annual Christmas concert, which I believe is a tradition as old as the school itself. The Christmas concert was spread over 3 days and was usually held in the third week of December, a few days before Christmas. It was compulsory for every single student to participate in the Concert. That was the hall mark of the Christmas Concert.

Classrooms were re-arranged to make place for dance floors and stages. Corridors reverberated with blaring sounds from speakers or choirs as teachers overlooked rehearsals. There was a buzz about school that was very pleasing. When there was nothing going on the open classrooms were used to play rounders or hitty-kitty, games you need to see to understand. Many kicked back with a book or a video game and it was all allowed. We were actually in Santa's wonderland for a good three weeks; complete no holds barred fun. The concert itself was a thoroughly enjoyable experience. Most students got an opportunity to shake off their stage fright, as participation was compulsory. There were a lot of Scottish collectables on sale too, and each day the concert concluded with a performance by somebody famous. And of course there was Santa Claus on his sled throwing goodies into the crowd. The finale of the last day was always a performance by Standard 10. I remember our final year performance well, when the entire standard was up on stage and sang Live is Life by Opus. The memory of it still gives me goosebumps. Good old days. What I'd do to go back in time and relive those 3 weeks for one last time. But alas, Live is Life Na Na Na Na .....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EGikhmjTSZI

Merry Christmas! Happy Santa day! And don't listen to those Facebook messages that tell you that there is no Santa. Even WikiLeaks has its office at the North Pole for a reason.

There is a little bit of Santa in all of us !

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

p.s: The concert was followed by a three week vacation :)

Blank

The boy in Mahim draws a blank

His mother hits him with a wooden plank

Study! Study! everybody yells

What will happen of the blog I only scream and yelp

Tomorrow is a new day, a new dawn, time to bell the crank!

Blank,

Hairy Nomad

Food Fronicles!

(I was speaking to acousticity earlier today and he was telling me that I shouldn't have gotten myself into this blogpost a day, for 30 days madness. 15 days should have been sufficient. Oh well, there is no getting out of this now. The exit is 21 days away, and contrary to what acousticity thinks, me thinks that fatigue hasn't set in yet.)

Although I am not a voracious eater, food has a special place in my life. I enjoy food immensely. Food shows on television are my weakness. There is something very therapeutic about watching somebody cook good food. Even though I might not eat most of the things that are shown, I love watching food in all its glorious avatars. Food Paradise, a one hour show on TLC showcases America's pig out spots for a particular type of food, every episode. Oh what fun to watch! Then there is Man vs Food, again on TLC a complete nonsense show where the host Adam Richmond takes on food challenges across America. Nigella Feasts, Hells Kitchen, Kylie Kwong and (Sir) Anthony Bourdain complete the TLC lineup of food shows that I enjoy watching. Anthony Bourdain, (Sir Anthony Bourdain to me) is pure genius. With a sweet yet melancholic voice laden with sardonic undertones, this frail white-haired New Yorker of French descent, is a gourmand par excellence. Hearing him talk about food is like hearing Mahatma Gandhi talk about ahimsa.And to compliment his subtle wit, he has a stomach of steel. I highly recommend his India episodes where he binges on anything and everything without breaking a sweat. I begin my day with Masterchef Australia on Star World. I've been following it religiously from the start and the show is in its last week now. With a bawa Jimmy in the top 5, the last week is already shaping up to be a complete potboiler. Highway on my Plate on NDTV Good Times has attained cult status in my house hold. Even my mom and dad enjoy watching the food adventures of Rocky and Mayur. Good Times indeed.

From the reel world to the real world, meetanonymity has been churning out dish after dish, making optimum use of her extended vacation. All of us are more than just envious of her cooking talents, now that she has graduated from muffins to this and this. She is also kindly encouraging of novices to get their hands dirty in the kitchen. So I finally took the plunge today and decided to make pancakes. She provided me with the recipe, which interested people can find here. My first tryst with creating something in the kitchen was not too great. It wasn't extremely bad either. After the second attempt the pancakes were round and I could successfully flip it in the pan. The pancakes were eatable and my dad insisted on eating it with fork and knife. So much for encouraging parents! The batter lacked vanilla essence, as a result it was a little eggy in flavour. But each of us gobbled up two pancakes each, so no major complaints as such. In the evening I learnt to make kahwa -Kashmiri chai sans milk with dry fruits and cardamom.(people who have seen Mission Kashmir will know). Kahwa is a very flavourful chai and it serves as a staple winter drink in Kashmir. Unfortunately I don't have nice photos to share, like meetanonymity usually does.Managing pots and pans was a gargantuan task in itself. Maybe next time I'll have the presence of mind to do both!

I'll share my culinary experiences henceforth under the tag Food Fronicles. And when an unemployed 22 year old is home all day, you can expect the unexpected!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

Stay hungry, Stay foolish ?

"And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle."- Steve Jobs

There are many people who enjoy reading books written by entrepreneurs, business gurus and self made men. Now, of course there are blogs and twitter feeds to add to their mania. Let's refer to these people as baba bhakts. I however, don't fall into this category of people. Baba bhakts love recommending these books to people like me, citing their works as killer stuff, inspiring, awwwesome and what not. There is one thing about (some of) these baba bhakts that rubs me the wrong way. They go back to doing things the way they have always been doing. They don't do anything differently (at least most of them.) If these people have done whatever brilliant things they've done in their lives and if you are reading about them or staying updated with their lives, shouldn't you imbibe some of their mannerisms? Shouldn't you channel your resources better? Shouldn't you make use of your time better? Shouldn't you take risks? Shouldn't you be bold? Shouldn't you become the baba and not the bhakt?

Unfortunately, I don't see too many of the baba bhakts doing any of these things. Sure there are many constraints and blah blah blah and some more blah blah blah. The reason I haven't read a Richard Branson or a Capt. Gopinath or Donald Trump or XYZ person is because I can't relate to them at any level. I like the concept of tangibility. Something I can see and feel, possibly touch, I will be able to relate to more than reading about these people and their success stories. I wasn't around to see them do any of the things they've done so I can't relate to it. As much as I try, I won't get inspired. Sure, it heightens testosterone or progesterone levels and make any boy or girl go WOW! But unfortunately, it wears off a little to soon. If only we had viagara for the mind eh?

I consider myself lucky to have interacted with some brilliant minds. Seeing them operate up close and personal makes me appreciate what they are doing. These are my real life babas (females too!) and they make me go Wow! I have been inspired and continue to be inspired, seeing them do their thang. It makes me want to do whatever it is that I am doing a bit more seriously. It makes me want to manage my resources better. It makes me want to push my limits. It makes me want to take risks. It makes me want to become a baba. I don't think I'll take their names here. Maybe I can take their permission and write them a testimonial each but I'll reserve that for another time. I have to keep writing for another 22 days! Without giving too much away these entrepreneurs, quizzers,closet writers, (real) engineers,to be entrepreneurs, gourmands and food writers keep me motivated, keep me hungry, keep me wanting more.

Stay hungry, Stay foolish? , the title reads. I heard Steve Jobs' 2005 Stanford Commencement Address a couple of years back. It was in that speech that he used this phrase and it was the first time I heard it. And these four words hit me hard. And they've grown on me since. Although I don't read their books, I am a sucker for good quotes. So does that make me a hypocrite? It doesn't matter. Calling me a hypocrite will get you only so far as Mahim. Anyway, I am at a cross-roads in my yet to have begun professional life (again), and I am going to listen to Steve uncle and Stay Hungry (Foolish I always was!) . For better of for worse!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad

The Last Ride

Amit rode pillion on his father's Bajaj. Holding one bag in the space between them and another bigger suitcase precariously dangling at the side, he was forced to perform a dangerous balancing act. But he had mastered the act over the last three and a half years. This was probably the last time he rode pillion on his father's scooter. He was going back to Sardar Patel Engineering college to attend his last semester. Over the summer break, he had been recruited by a 'dream' company and he believed his father's Bajaj days were over.

That afternoon, before leaving home, he promised his mother that he would return only with a big pay cheque. He would then buy her the gaadi, she had always desired. His mother, a superstitious God fearing lady removed some of the kohl from her eyes and dabbed it behind his ears as he stood up after taking her blessings. Her eyes were moist when he stepped out the door.

The dream job had changed a lot of things for Amit. He was instilled with a positivity and rejuvenated spirit, the emancipated self confidence was reflected in his uncharacteristic smile. It had not been all smooth sailing, however and he reminisced about the ups and downs as his father manouevered the Bajaj through the narrow gullies of the village bazaar. The sweet smell of the jalebis mixed with the putrid odour emanating from the dustbin outside the mithai shop filled his lungs as he took in the sights and sounds of the village. It would be a year at least, before he returned.

Things would be a little different on his return, he thought to himself as people in the crowded street waived out to him wishing him good health and luck. He would have become a saheb, a big person. Already, he was a revered figure in his village; having topped the tenth and twelfth exams and in the next five months he would become the first engineer from his village. Such an event, was a matter of pride not only for his parents but for the entire village. Also, Amit baba's dream job was no secret to the people of the village. As a consequence, he had to sacrifice a lot of his afternoon naps to play the role of mentor and guide to starry eyed parents who wanted their son and daughter to follow in his footsteps. Amit, in exchange for sweets and farsan dispensed with advice and explained to his guests patiently what they needed to do for their children. He felt obligated to the people of his village who had been a constant source of support to his parents through some rather tough times. He wanted to give back to them.

A loud blaring horn suddenly woke him from his trance. But only just. The Howrah-Mumbai Express came to a grinding halt at the level crossing.

Lost in translation.

Hello readers. Going by yesterday's thanda response, my everyday updates are not finding favour with everyone. If that is not the case, then please start commenting!

I am exhausted today, and considering it is already late, I will not take too much of your time or mine and share a small (and near catastrophic) incident.

I had an exam today. SNAP. Symbiosis National Aptitude something. My centre was IES , Dadar. (or so I thought). For once I was happy I didn't have to go to Vidyavihar or Mankhurd or Andheri East. Dadar. Right next door. IES Dadar, formerly known as King George and still identified by residents of the area as King George is ten minutes away from home. I reached there an hour early as mentioned in the examination guidelines. I met a friend who had come to drop his sister at the venue. I spent a good half hour with him before I decided to go inside and look for my class. In between all this I had noted that I had to go to the first floor, room no 8, Seat no 238. I left him at around 1:25 and sat myself in my place. I did my pre-exam ritual of going to the toilet twice after a 5 minute interval. The invigilator walked in at 1: 40. She went around checking everyone's hall ticket and supplementary identification. In my case, it was my driver's license. No problem. Then after another 5 minutes, a girl walked in and realized her seat was taken. Two people had the same seat number. She was then told, that she had to report to a different block, and she frantically ran away. Why would they issue same seat numbers? After this I happened to look at my hall ticket and tallied it with the person behind me, and then with the person in front. Their centre number was 2101 and mine was 2107! Oh well, me shaana dadar cha mulga was at the wrong IES, Dadar! My center was in Dadar west, and I would take a good 15 minutes to reach there. When did an IES open in Dadar west?! Symbiosis mutation is a cancerous disease, I tell you. If you ask anybody in Dadar about IES they will invariably direct you to where I was. Nonetheless, it was time to panic. But I didn't. I got up and I was directed to the 'Control Room' where I expressed my grievance. I was half hopeful that I would be asked to go to the other centre, where I would be late and I wouldn't have to give the exam! But Symbiosis people were either anticipating a Pratap Kaul to grace them with his stupidity or they had a good crisis management team in place. Either way I was sent to a particular room, where I was greeted by 10 other idiots who had made a similar goof up or were last minute registrations. So I had to give the exam! Damn. The exam was alright, pretty easy. I don't think you'll care about the details so I wont get into those. Nonetheless, it was an interesting event and I'm sure I'll look back and laugh at my idiocy. I'm sure most of you'll are laughing at me too. :) Louder Louder!

Tomorrow's mission: go search for this new IES in Dadar west!

Cheers!

Hairy Nomad :P