A Dilemmatic Journalistic

One of our many projects here at ACJ includes one called “Investigative Project”. While it sounds cool and all happening, reality for us - aspiring journalists is far from what you would perceive. After a series of xenophobic attacks on North Indian migrant workers, most of us tried to cash in on the insecurity the migrants felt in ways of 500 word articles or one minute TV stories.

But for my IP project I had to closely engage with the migrants. It is an adrenaline rush as it is supposed to be, but just a gush of ‘excited’ hormones does not ensure a factually correct story.

So as my team and I started working on this project we thought of all the areas that might crop up in discussion with the migrants. We jotted down all the reasons that could cause unhappiness for the migrants who work in a very staunch South Indian city like Chennai. I am not too fond of the place, all thanks to its anti-Hindi movement that unlike a movement translates to daily life behaviour. Chennaities’ dislike of any Hindi speaking species or at least subtle eyebrow movements that emulate a typical Indian mother-in-law disapproval of her daughter in law’s actions is pretty common for us, outsiders.

So when we went to interview these migrant workers in their cramped, claustrophobic rooms, we were all ready with our mike and camera, trying to get that soundbyte when they’d tell us how difficult their life in Chennai is. What came as a surprise and in many ways as a panic alarm for me is their denial of any problems.

"Kuch nahi. Rehne ko ghar , khana thik hi mil jata hai aur ghar pe paise bhejne ko mil jaate hai, usse jyaada kya chahiye?"

(Nothing much. We have a house to stay, get decent foodand money to send back home.What more could we want?)

Their reply not only surprised us but threw our story ‘angle’ out of the window. Throw would still be a very soft word for what we felt at that point of time. Our hopes of an anti-South India story revolving around the troubles of these Bihari migrants was quashed in just one or two soundbytes. And, just to remind you, these were supposed to be our potential “oh-its-so-difficult-to-work-here-and-im-doing-it-because-i-have-no-option” soundbytes.

Needless to say, we were reminded of one journalistic lesson that somehow most of us tend to forget. Don’t assume. We assumed and hence lost the chance of probably telling a story that could bring out more than just migrants’ troubles in living in a xenophobic Chennai.

Reminds me of one very wise English professor who once told us, “Don’t assume, for you just make an of ASS of U and ME.”

*nodding in agreement with you maam*

"Guys, we need a different story angle now!!!!!"

just something i came across and reminded me of my last post

My Eudaemonic Life

Not far away from my house is a Cancer Society which houses about 30-40 cancer patients. It provides them medical and residential facilities, a kitchen and recreational activities for their stay. These patients come from different parts of the country, mostly the interiors. The only thing common to them is that , they are all kids, from an infant to 17 years suffering from different forms of cancer.

I used to visit the society to spend some time with the kids. But later, I was asked to teach them dance. At first, the thought was exciting but few days later, it started to get tough. It was an exhausting process, weakening me emotionally. It was not easy to be around people who were dying, especially when they were kids.

On my way back home, I questioned and complained to god. These were kids so full of life and love. They didn’t have an inkling of what was wrong with them, their families couldn’t bear the huge expense of the treatment, and more than that, they were KIDS…God’s small bundles of joy and hope. I stopped visiting them because of the emotional toll it took on me. I remember going back home and crying, simply because there wasn’t much you could do for these children. But then my mother explained otherwise. “You give them just one hour of your week. In that hour, you are giving them memories that might last them all their life, memories that they’ll cherish as long as they are alive.”

That changed the way I looked at these children. I figured, the least I could do is give them some love. Dance, was just an excuse, we hardly ever danced. Expecting the kids to memorize the steps, sync with the music was inhuman. Kids, undergoing chemotherapy were too weak to even move on their beds, dance was a long shot for them.

As I said, dance was just what we called my one hour (usually turned into two hours and more) with them. Most children wouldn’t eat during chemotherapy. It was difficult to deal with the hair loss. Constant fever, weakness and heavy medication led them to be irritable all the time. My only job then, was to feed them. I would take the kids in my arms and sweet talk them into eating . Feeding even small morsels could be difficult, but then it was some sort of an importance they felt when “didi” fed you. Luckily it worked. The parents would often tell us how the kids wouldn’t eat if they tried to feed them, but gladly ate when I fed them.

There are some success stories and some failures. I’ve seen two kids die, both aged between 5 and 8. I’ve seen one suffering brain damage, so inspite of her 14 years of age, she can now barely move or speak. But you are grateful for the ones who did make it. Infact one girl, Koel from Calcutta, even stars in the Cancer Society Commercial that is aired on TV showcasing the success stories.

Even today when I visit them, they greet you with such happiness and love, that all complains, all unhappiness fades away. They smother you with such unconditional love that you can’t believe could exist.

Like every other ambitious person, I too hope to have a meaningful job, a nice family, a successful career….but more than that, I now know what gives me happiness-providing the same to others.

A Cup of Coffee Called Life

“What’s your favourite novel?” a friend once asked, and thanks to the very hectic schedule I was living those days, I couldn’t recollect any. After thinking really hard, “The Alchemist” came my reply. Somehow, that answer of mine, surprised me a bit as I am not really fond of Paolo Coelho, thanks to the speed of his plot and sometimes the lack of one (a personal opinion!)

Later, as I was reasoning my answer, I realized, the reason I liked the book was, it was everything I believed in. I think if Paolo would have named the novel as “Life”, it would still have achieved its purpose. As Paolo speaks about signs, omens and destiny through his protagonist’s journey for the search of The Alchemist, everything he says is something that every individual needs to hear at some phase of life.

The omens could range from superstitions to hardcore proofs, but the fact remains that every human relies on these little ‘hints from God’. It could be a friend, a mother, a professor, a mentor, anyone who can inspire us in some way. Life is all about the unknown, the uncertainty, which is exactly what makes it so very interesting. How boring would it be to know that tomorrow you will meet the person of your dreams, you will get along well together and get married eventually? It also sounds so boring, let alone the idea of living a life wherein you’d know everything that would happen next. So, in some way or the other we are always looking out for a certain ‘something’ that will guide our way to accomplishment. It is that one phrase, a pat on the back or simply an ‘All the Best’ message that does the trick. Small actions have immense power of making a person feel positive and focused at times.

“Happiness is during the journey, not at the end of it.” This is another thought that we must, as individuals, try to keep in mind and inculcate in our lives. We are known by the people we meet, the actions we take and the consequences of our actions. People make the rest of the world for us, and it has never been an easy task to label them, the variety is so vast. Like in the novel, there are exciting and crazy people, there are kings and paupers, impersonates and genuine, know-it-all and down to earth people as well. In our search for ‘Self Actualization’ as Maslow termed it, we falter, we sometimes win, we achieve, and sometimes lose, we cheat and we get cheated by, but the only one thing that remains constantly with us is our ambition. That one wish of ours, that one barrier we would like to claim we achieved. Most of the times, the lessons of life are not learnt at the final stages of achieving our ambition, rather they are learnt at the various levels towards it.

The best part of the novel is its undying optimism and that is what makes it one of my favourites. In a world drenched with crime, corruption, terrorism and uncaring politicians who couldn’t care less about the masses they are ‘supposed’ to lead in their countries, positivity is something that everyone needs. Positivity was earlier a characteristic feature, a choice, but at present, it’s the need of the hour! With the world around us filled with so much negativity, you need to feel that things just might get better! That is the one good thought that can inspire us to no end. Everyone has dreams, everyone has apprehensions, and everyone needs a person, a thought, a sign to motivate us. And what happens next is the toll life takes, the experiences she brings and the lessons she teaches.

Imagine you are sitting by the sea. Your feet touch the waves lazily. The cool breeze eases your tensions away and you are holding a mug filled with hot, lovely smelling coffee. You take a sniff of it and its strong flavor makes you smile and you take a generous sip of the coffee. After the first sip you realize that there’s just no sugar in it! You’re too lazy to get up and add a few teaspoons of sugar in it and you eventually gulp it down, only to realize that the sugar was at the bottom of the cup. All it needed was some stirring.

That’s what life is exactly! Happiness is always around, all you need to do is, search for it and enjoy your cup of coffee called life!

FINANCIAL STABILITY - and what it means to me!!!

ROSE DAY!!!

One of the event that every Ruiaite (me an alumni of Ruia college) looks forward to, is scheduled for the 20^th September. Myself being like just another college going student is obviously excited about it. It is the one day when everyone (ok! Probably not everyone but at least I ) am all busy expecting roses and rose cards and yes to my agony even though I can’t resist…….chocolates. And yes! How can I forget, the reaction of your “special” one when he/she receives your card (with the added effect of the RED rose. In other words its something I’m really waiting for…..

So for a person like me (Oh! In case I forgot to mention, I’m a typical girl ,looking for an occasion to look good, all ready to get compliments and loving each and every adulation that comes my way) looking good is really…read : REALLY important.As luck would have it I was strolling on Matunga streets when I saw this dirty – green coloured halter neck. But still out of curiosity (and thank god for that!!!!) I happened to ask if they had the same one in a different colour (read: BLACK!).It usually happens that stuff that I like is either not fitting, too tight or too baggy or simply too expensive (come on! I’m still not earning… ) and that day was just like the others….they didn’t have it in black. However the attendant turned up all smiling to tell me that they have a brown one (not that I love brown but well something is better than nothing…or better put as brown is better than green!!!)

Well there is absolutely no point describing my trying it on, loving it, hating myself for putting on so much weight and looking at myself from each and every angle possible….(typical girl I told you!!!).The cruz remains that I ended up buying it for 300 bucks (luckily I had that much cash that day!!!!)

So well, what actually happened(by now you might be wondering where financial stability comes in!!!) is that my mom happened to find it not so decent! Come on now decency is a very relative according to me and heck! that’s what generation gap is all about…..isn’t it????

Anyway in the evening the topic ended by me saying- “I like it and I’m wearing it. PERIOD!!!”. So far,so good. But whoever said life was all smooth sailing. Due to a fight with my sister the topic came up again late in the night. Now mom was like, “you didn’t even think twice before handing over those 300 Rs for this indecent top of yours”. Well, I happened to say that it was just a matter of 300 Rs.(Ohkay! Now this is an advice to all my fellow teenagers…..never, ever use the term “only” or “just” when it comes to cash. Never! PERIOD And if you’re trying to prove that you’re some smart ass….go ahead and face your fate).

Like a typical mom, my mom too went on and on and on and on as to how hard she works and doesn’t spend on herself only to see me cash out money for an INDECENT, REVEALING TOP. Not that I don’t agree to the 1^st part of the sentence (I love you mom!) as that definitely is how the situation is but not indecent and revealing, no! I don’t buy that. And since that night all I’ve been wondering is how peaceful it would be if I were earning. Then I wouldn’t have to feel guilty about a thing; on spending cash on something my mom found indecent, of buying something that I’d probably wear only once a year,of wasting her hard-earned cash on 2 meters or probably less lycra!

Had I been earning and financially independent I would be able to speak with my head held high (Gosh! some pride…) that it was my cash and I would decide how to spend it and on what …..It does seem a very trivial issue right now, but back then it was something quite humiliating. Something quite shameful, something that doubted my sense of expenditure and mainly right and wrong (come on it’s a big decision whether to buy a top or not !!!)

But then in any case I have to wait for more 6 months (to be an adult, I’m still 17 for the record) and a good job opportunity to come along. But till then, “ummm….. mom / dad may I have some cash please…….”

If Only...

Arms around each other

they walk unknown to others glare

their eyes meet

and they stare....

Love is not perfect

and neither are they

Relations don't last forever

nor will they....

But still they hold onto each other

knowing there may not be a tomorrow....

Deep,deep they drown

in each others eyes,

Praying to God

to freeze this moment forever....

Suddenly comes a hand on her shoulder

she wakes to find him not there

Its hard to admit it

But they are "JUST FRIENDS"

She lives in hope that someday

he might believe her-

That they are more than "JUST FRIENDS"

That her love is unconditional

That she'd readily sacrifice everyone's love

just to get his....

Dreams hurt and hurt hard

but still she continues dreaming....

If only she had her arms around him

If only....

just like everyone else I too have had my own share of heart breaks :(

and,no i dont have any regrets while claiming it.....

wrote this poem a long while ago....during a heart break period....

luckily the "he" in the poem and i still continue to be good friends and have come a long way from that period....

God bless him!!!

Lets Get It Started!!!

Someone once rightly said you don't do something till the time you dont see someone else doing it....(sorry,dont remember the exact quote but thats what it basically meant,so.....) Well blogging was one of the best ways to communicate more that orkutting, facebooking etc since a very long time...but that still isnt reason enough (or lets say,wasnt reason enough for me) to start blogging....But only a few days ago a good friend messaged asking me to check out her blog.....which kind of initiated the idea (for the nth time actually....)

So getting to the point......here i am....i dont aim to educated you,motivate you,instigate you or whatever of that sort.....just here to write whatever i feel like sharing with my friends.....casual stuff, sometimes serious stuff....basically helping myself as well as you to kill time....

Hope you enjoy!