Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Do you know a war was stopped to watch Pele play football?

He worked for some time as shoe shiner. When he was in school, he bashed a classmate for calling him a nickname. Studies and football were never together for him. His mother got angry when he said he wanted to play football, but then he played football, and the history is full of his football even to an extend that he could stop a war to let people see him playing football. And he is Pele. Yeah the one of the greatest football players who even non-football lovers know about. His nickname (of course “Pele”) is one such name in the world that echoes louder than any other thing.
Politicians and diplomats toil harder everyday to stop war. They work out and clean out every niche possible to clean the misunderstandings and wars. And many of them fail. But Pele? He did it. Yeah people, he did it. He did it even without telling them of working out negotiations. His mere passion in football ended up stopping a war for 48 hours, and that was something Godly.  You agree with me right? What even if it was for 48 hours, but he did made people forget the contempt and cherish the football which could have been some people’s beautiful memory?
Right after retiring after winning a world cup, in 1970, Pele agreed to play an exhibition match at Lagos in Nigeria. There was civil war going on in Nigeria that time. However, both the groups agreed to halt the war for two days so that soldiers could enjoy catching the glimpse of football God Pele (Hope you guys now understand me calling him God).
By the way, anyone know what’s his real name? Anyone? You never required knowing his real name just as Pele did. Everyone knows him through Pele. I am a die-hard fan of football. I have been following ever since world cup 2002, and I don’t miss reading about football or footballer’s in paper or magazine, yet I didn’t know his name until I goggled and found out that Pele’s real name is Edson Arante do Nascimento. But I feel just like every football lovers, Pele sounds too good.
The beautiful game, as he put up once about football, is today one of the major attractions in the world. The global strength of football can exceed more than anything else. It’s one of the major and clean societies where in spite of any color you are, or any tribe you come from, if you play beautifully, you are right there to give beautiful world a beautiful game (well we don’t expect anyone to be charismatic and big enough like a normal height Pele to actually halt a war).
He won three world cups. In 1958, as a seventeen year old teenager, he scored in final match. And in 1962 and 1970.

http://www.football-history.net/who-is-who/p/pele.htm (Photo Courtesy)
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Friday, November 26, 2010

The Arrogant One

“What an arrogant brat?” “He’s going to have the worst ego war with people around him, the guy’s just ARROGANT!” “He’s so confident about himself, and his ARROGANCE will someday let other over run through him”  “Man, that arrogant boy will never learn how to respect elders” “There’s no use head butting against his arrogant idea, he won’t just listen to you also”
No one actually likes one who is arrogant about his work, and among his friends and colleagues. We feel it’s too much a work and of course futile to go crazy with someone who is sick with his too-much arrogance. There is no as such a good in bringing out a better chance of getting along in work or in friendship when other person cares all about is he, and is selfishly protective off his loopholes. Many despise dragging ourselves into useless work. They are nothing less than fools we compare to. They are fools who are deceived so much of their abilities that they don’t see their faults. And thus, there is no corner left in between us to get to a point and work out something.
But then looking at egos and arrogance from the perspective of the person who holds it, there’s so much a good thing about it (at least I feel that way). The one’s egos are as much power energy needed to push the person forward in this ruthless world of survival. It energizes the subdued fear and presses instincts. If a humble wise man does not stand up against the turbulent wind of foolishness in the world, what good is his wisdom if he leaves it to the unsettled circumstances? Lest he was arrogant, his egos to not to let anything which he cares so much as the beneficiary thought for others, it would have made a major impact.
Anyone who is with too much ego always ends up doing something or the other thing. Man who gives up easily, even less to care about his humbleness, things he wants always will be pushed further. It would mean that he should wait ashore till the tempest in the sea ceases. And believe me, even if the tempest subsides, the sea always comes with waves. A man who is strong in physical without a stronger spirit is like a building resting on a rotten pillar of an ancient wood. It will collapse at the slightest pressure of mild wind let alone the loads of its own.
There are people who never stopped to the stooping of failure. Abraham Lincoln made it the president at his sixteenth try. Had it been not for his egos which forced him to not to lose a self belief, there would someone remembered as sixteenth president. The point I am trying to tell here is that egos and arrogance are as much important if you want to be successful.  They drive your motivations, they ignite your thoughts and only thing you need is to be self believing. I won’t include self-obsession by the way.
I am so much fond of Cristiano Ronaldo. And no one is anonymous about him. He is a global star. Through football, the guy has become a celebrity. And his passion is football. Only few of us are lucky enough to enjoy what we do, others do what they are supposed to do. He is full of ego. Every hardcore hater of him would argue that Ronaldo is too egoistic. The way he speaks in interviews, he never leaves anyone to not to know his arrogance. But there is a charisma in his football, which ultimately ends up making him charismatic. His egos and arrogance helps him to do much better than before. They push him so much afar. Opponent fans boo at him for his over showy football and antics, but the guy just doesn’t stop doing things better and better. And he enjoys doing it. His egos and arrogance is his best compatriot. They make him not just strong from within but also help him in achieving the dreams.
Egos and arrogance are so much important to life. They are not good in case they become too much, but then without these things, you can’t even dare to take a step ahead.

Is god created by man or man created by god?

(*The following article is just a piece of author’s own thought. It has nothing to do with anyone’s believe or religion)
“Oh my God! There has been the mishap. And the accident claimed five. But there was one who survived clinging on the edge of cliff. Rescue members made right on time to save him. Lucky fellow, son of God”. (This is a story of a lucky passenger whose fellow passengers were killed in an instant in an accident)
“As I cross the road, the tree fell over me if it was not for the right entry of a truck beside me. It made right over the truck and I passed with almost disbelief”. (This is a lady sharing the miracle due to truck because of which she survived the mishap)
“I thought I am done when a bullet pierced right against the wind and thrust on me. And the last thing I could think was of my little daughter. But I still hear the sounds of bullets, and there was no pain. I open my eyes and in disbelief I see that bullet struck right on the name plate”. (This is a soldier who survives the bullet because of his locket).
“We all gave up. She was dying. There was no donor for the kidney. I was preparing my daughter’s death. There was nothing we could do. But then we receive a call one day from a doctor. And it was time for operation. Today she is all good and clean. (And this one…..it’s obvious, isn’t it?)
There are many realistic examples of such incidents in people’s lives. Our fate just doesn’t stops confronting us. At one point or the other, it always does. But then most of us end up having to share something great of the incident. It becomes nothing less than miracles. And it suddenly reads as the living proof of the God’s presence around us. Manifestations were for nothing after all. Through such things, otherwise known as miracles, humans gave birth to God: the god that we believed having created the world.
It was indeed a miracle. The creation of God is indeed the miracle. It just doesn’t make people not to believe in extraordinary things of life, but it gives every life a wonderful sacredness. The priceless value is attached to a life.
The human affairs have always been the uncontrollable thing through which the development in human society is affected. Every day to day affair between, even two humans, the repercussions have always been on the world around. Some good things they do, makes a better impact and of course the worst things if they intended to. But because there is something known as God, many are trimmed of their intentions. Even though, He is only been heard in stories of grandmas or in holy books, people fear as much as they have seen Him in reality to commit sins. They fear the harsh punishment of the God for the sins we commit. People contain themselves to the worst possibilities of life as the retributions for having done sins in earlier days of life or even in the earlier lives.
Imagine the creation without the creation of the creator. The world would be in a perfect chaos. The sins would have drowned the humanity. There have been times in human history where inhuman activities raged the entire world. It threatened the end of the world. Bloodsheds drenched the battle field. Less we cared about God, or even feared Him, these things would have been put to an end. But then the question still remains answered. Because of God fearing souls, we tend to actually hold this world in the realm of happiness and hope. People live worshipping Him. And all that God teaches is about love, care, happiness, humanity and sacredness of life. (I wonder who taught these things in the name of God, but they certainly are the greatest contributions in the history of humanity)
God indeed is a finest creation of man and of course we would never stop believing in miracles.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Don't you think that life is beautiful only when beautiful things happen?

Ever seen anyone say you that life is beautiful and it stays always so, but the next thing you see of him is brooding over the sad things in life afterward? Ever seen anyone who has been gifted in life and that he is so much happy with things happening around him but to only see it happening reverse, and finally crying over the short happiness? Ever seen any lover who is so much happy with his love life, but tries to commit his once beautiful life to death when his beautiful ditches him alone? You are appointed to a higher post in your company and the next thing you see after promotion is yourself getting fired for some scam over the office works by people working under you. You win a lottery, but the next day, your parents meet with accident. I can go on and on citing such things about life which could in our desperate moment can only be viewed as some fake things about life which are but true.
I had my share of happiness. I, through certain universal conspiracy, met with someone beautiful. She was someone who has everything that I dreamt of. You can bet how it is an immense package of happiness when she completes everything that has ever dreamt of a dream girl. Life was beautiful, and I felt life has such power which blesses us with so many beautiful things in life. But even before I could convince her that I can complete the other half of her life, and that we could be complementary to each other’s life, she just vanished with someone of her choice and someone of her dream. Informs me later on that she is with him.  And next thing I feel is that life isn’t beautiful at all. It makes us happy only to be sad.
Know a friend who grew up without a father. He wished himself to be a boy like every loving son of loving father. Not until he was ready, his mother told him everything about his dad. That was when he felt like a son, and that was when he felt like a loving son of a father. The life stretched so much into a happy world. He imagined so many things to do with his father. He thought he could visit his dad and all. But the next thing that happens is his dad getting killed in an accident. He shared all his class with a girl not knowing she was his half sister. He knew only when she cried for the same father who died in the accident. Why did life made him so happy only to let him know the pain for which he never had happiness before?
I grew up in Bumthang. As a kid, and of course as a growing teenager, I was naughty and out of hand for my parents to take care. I most of the time spent walking in night at home through the village that was commanded by the sounds of dogs. Right from after school to almost the shop is closed, I remained in the bar with people in the bar playing carom board. It was run by an elderly divorcee.  She was survived by two daughters. One of them was in my class. Her only source of income to run the family was the carom board because of which many people gathered in her shop. Some buy beers to pay the loss for the game. And some buy as they watch the game. She earned through it. Her shop within a year attracted so many customers and she became a rich enough to buy a house of her own. And the next thing I hear was that the town got burnt. The fire gulfed five shops. And her shop too was burnt to ashes. She was made rich only to taste the richness if at all there was any. Life isn’t so rich after all.
He was a little deaf. Made a huge fortune for him through many years of hardworking in a furniture workshop. He was my dad’s far relative. Married off a girl. She owned a house through her parents who lived making utensils. He soon fathered a girl. It was really a happy family. Life came in a huge bulk with full of promises and happiness until his wife on some grounds divorced him. She just didn’t leave him alonewithout his daughter but also with all his wealth he gathered all his life. Life married him to a big surprise. I guess, he misses his little daughter these days as well.
Well life is not something really Beautiful huh? But it’s a life that which has these things at its every step. You just aren’t living a life if these things are not a part of your life. Life is beautiful but if you are a princess who always stays in a castle and never had a glimpse and touch of things outside the castle, life isnt beautiful. My girlfriend and I broke up after knowing each other for seven years and after dating for almost two and half years. I just was sad, but the next thing that happens is that I am been blessed with a beautiful sweet sister. Never had a sister in the family of five siblings. Today, she is the beautiful life, she is the beautiful thing and she is the world in which not just me but our entire family are living a beautiful life. If life pains yo, it also heals the wound. And when healing is over, life can sometime pain you again. But then that’s where we understand and become stronger to face and confront life with understanding.
There is no end to life’s misery, and so does the beautiful thing. 
 http://blankandbitch.com/ (Image courtesy)

Friday, November 19, 2010

On 1st August, 2005.

It all happened in 2005, late summer. The lights were put off. There were thin disappearing sounds in the boy’s dormitory. I used to stay in a room full with students from lower classes. We had classes right from seven to twelve those days in Zhemgang higher secondary school. I was like a captain of those little sheeps, not something like lion as many may assume given the fact that there was so much a huge separation among seniors and juniors. Most juniors, even myself as I was in class 11, were all the fearing and scared juniors of our class twelve seniors.  I was on the staircase on my way to leak when  I met vice councilor. He was panting. He must have been running.
“SomTobgay! Our friends are all ready. The seniors just beat Sangay. He is bleeding”
“If that’s the case, you won’t be able to do anything. You better take care of yourself while I would do same for myself “We all knew what Sangay’s situation was. But they over did it. Why someone like him would come to me and talk about it, or was it all coincidental, I had to curse my luck. And in the darkness, I had no idea that there was someone who could ignite the situation for me later on.  I returned room after toilet.
“You are the captain of class 11 A?” I could see him getting closer with the gesticulation that spoke nothing less than him trying to slap on me. “Do you know that someone from your class during the morning study asked the class about Chazam’s girl?”
How in the hell am I suppose to know what every student in the class is doing. Let’s just pass the fact that I would know who spoke what and who heard what in the class. We used to be all busy in our own conversations if the teacher on duty is not strict. And the fact that our academic buildings were placed so far from eachother, the hill in between the two blocks made it easier for students to most of the time take advantage of the distance. Of course, we do have two teachers sometimes monitoring the study hours.
I was watching TV when some senior walked all the way towards the stage and stood beside TV Screen and shouted in the crowd.
“All class 11 A heroes, can you come out?”
And I was asked to come forward for being a class monitor. Somehow he stopped; I don’t know what made him stop. It hurt me so much. How in the hell someone I knew from middle secondary school try something of such sort when he is just a year senior to me in high school? Power corrupts human being, almost every Shakespeare play have this common theme. A class monitor is supposed to know everything, then I would have actually made myself clear of the fact that he should know everything as he too was some sort of captain in the school. They were four of them. I don’t know if any of my friend looked at me with the pity or with disgust towards them for physically bullying us.
“The one who has giddiness feels like whole world is revolving around him”, I shouted at Tshering Dema. She cried for our suspicion towards her. And I couldn’t help but to feel like she’s the only person so much in close relationship with so called Chazam’s girlfriend. She denied having leaked the conversation of the class to seniors.
I escaped the visit of these seniors the night before as my room was with lower class students. They visited class 11 dormitories and warned my friends of our casual teasing on the girls when these girls come and go out of mess. The road that led girls towards mess from their far dormitory actually passed above our dormitory. And this is when they warned of us teasing their girlfriends who are actually our batch.
“Where is Robot?” It was a light captain from class twelve. Robot hid somewhere, I didn’t have any idea since then, and even till now. But it was good, at least the lights would stay off. The steel shutter was locked from inside. Soon night was disturbed by noises of discreet footsteps and joyful naughtiness.
They were all over. I was standing on the corridor on first floor. The steel shutters gave way to the heat of the moment. There was all sort of clash, nothing less than fight. It was as if, we are done with this act of stepping aside and bow our heads low as and when our seniors walked pass us. Everyone was moving in the pattern of the circumstance. Saw some of my friends full of rage and satisfaction as they moved forward to confront the seniors who sneaked at bulk in our hostel courtyard. Soon teachers gathered, students pacified themselves and hostel went to utter silence in few minutes, lights were put on and it wasn’t so long before we found out most of ourselves hurt and beaten. They survived on 1st August, 2005.
There was so much noise among the students next morning. They were all whispering the night. It just hadn’t finished yet. After few minutes, some of the seniors from science class appeared in my class and took out me. Hell yeah! I was leaning over the wall, and one of them was jostling and pushing me. It was him who was listening my conversation with councilor in the darkness. Now it has already become more than a ragging. They actually ran over almost many of my friends at that time.
“You are good at studies and I am good at fighting”, lets have it here. But then I knew one of them, so he made it light for me. But in truth, I actually knew the guy who overheard my conversation since we were in middle secondary school in Yebilaptsa. It was just that like many, people fall victim to power hunger.  Today he almost mauled like a hungry bear over me with rage and pride.
There was this statement writing and many procedures. One of the teachers told me that they are just jealous of me. I did say him that I had my worst share of falling victim to the ragging in the hostel. There was this common saying and thought among the students in the hostel, and that was when class 11 students reach class 12 finally, we would end up doing same. I replied him that this thing won’t stop, it will continue for some days. And exactly, it wasn’t so long. My class teacher came looking for me and he took me to his home with him. I don’t have any idea what happened that night, but I definitely know that police has to come and make students settle down. And policing in hostel continued for some days.
“We shall not leave any stone unturned”, the education officer’s words echoed among the mass consisting of class 11 and 12 in the assembly ground.
“All great wars on earth started because of woman”, he was angry. He should be. He continued “Trojan war, and even Battle of Changmilathang, all because of woman” he paused. “To know these things, you should do deep reading on history”
I had my school leaving application submitted in Vice principal’s office. He couldn’t let me leave until he finishes the case. The Case? It has become a case. We were scheduled to meet Dasho  Dzongrab. They cited the main reason as our ogling at girls, and that we tease girls so much. We stood on the point that ever since we stepped inside the school, we have been getting this kind of treatment from our seniors. And the fact that there were so many of us who got beaten, we literally won the case in front of Dasho Dzongrab. They knew everything how Sangay was beaten for actually asking a girl who has had her hand injured already, by her boyfriend and adopted brother. They came to know everything that happened on the nights of 1st and 2nd August, 2005.
However, many of them got suspended for about few weeks. Sadly there was also one of my friends, as to say so much a close friend who was a senior to me, he informed the night guard wrongly on the fateful night. Had it been for us, we would at least forgive them as we actually did when Dashi Dzongrab gave us the option of punishing these guys. Dasho Dzongda interfered the matter later on and they eventually got ousted for their deeds.
I remember how they bullied us on the fact that they will always be a senior by a year no matter where they go or what they do in life. And today, I don’t see any of them around. And we are all leaving our life. And yeah about that application I applied, I never checked in and Vice principal didn’t bother as well to ask me about it. Perhaps that’s the day when we actually ended up with free hostel. Everyone understood their own business.

What's there in name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet." Shakespeare in Romeo and Juliet.
Of course it is still the sweet thing that smells sweet and only the different thing would be that it won’t be called any more as “Rose”.
Ever heard Russel Petters making fun about having an Indian friend in America whose name is Har-dick? He goes on to claim that he met another guy called Suk-deep. And finally cracks a joke about those two being a friend.
Today I was in the canteen, like as usual, rushing up for my order. The canteen man passed macaroni. He says it’s Dick-Bitch! I just laugh at my friend Digvijay. And in return he laughs off saying Top-Gay. And we both laugh at our names. There was the open house discussion in the OAT, and a guy from Manipur stood up and it wasn’t long before everyone laughed at hearing his real name. I couldn’t get his name and till now I don’t know his name. Like everyone else, I know him by the name Yo-Yo.
Eversince I joined this college, I had been constantly made fun of my name: TOBGAY as TOP-GAY. And to add so much this humiliating great name, my first name in India is usually for women: Sonam. And now I have Bhutanese friends calling through the same line. They just find it so funny. We had Singye, and yet people especially Bhutanese friends made him SICK-GAY, so we are now Sick-Gay and Top-Gay (Hahahaha). It just doesn’t matter to anyone that Singye and Tobgay means Lion and the Power Growth (sorry if I am wrong in converting, but it literally if we go with direct translation).
There is another guy from Congo. His name is Guy. A guy with the name Guy. I wonder if there is someone who could be called as Girl. There are plenty in the world. There are places like Shitterton, Crapstone, and Dildo in New Foundland. Here are little treat for football fans: we had footballers with these names Pele, Maradona, Zidane, Ronaldo, (whats funny about these great names? No, there isn’t any) But how about these ones: Segar Bastard, Milan Fukal, Argelico Fucks, Have-a-Look Dube, Johnny Moustache, Dean Windass, Nicky Butt,  and there are many.
I wonder what would happen to my name. It won’t just stop even after I tell people that I am perfectly normal. I love women, not man. Sometimes I ignore saying I am simply happy and gay.

http://upload.wikimedia.org (photo courtesy)

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The story of 3 eggs that teaches you lot more lessons of life

This is a very short parable. My friend told me this as a joke in one of our casual talks in the college campus. It is a joke about three eggs.
There were three eggs on the top of the table. They decided to jump on the floor down.
The first egg jumped but it landed without getting broken. Reason: It knew the technique.
The next thing was another egg following the jumping. It also landed unbroken. Reason: It copied the first one.
And finally the third one jumped but broke upon landing. Reason: IT WAS OVER CONFIDENT!
The moral that I drew out are:
1. Confidence is good, but little more than confidence becomes overconfidence and it is no more a good thing. There is a problem common among us. We take so much of others so low and predictable while we keep ours so much as high as one can actually end up being able to chew it up. And often many fail. It just wasn’t so easy. It just wasn’t something I imagined to be thin and straight. It was something bigger, something bigger than we actually supposed ourselves being able to do it without so much a hard work and passion. Confidence means that you are sure about yourself being able to take it the other thing in whatsoever manner it comes. It builds you positive energy. It makes you trust the things you know about it. But overconfidence makes you underestimate the person you are going to deal with, the exam you are going to appear in, the deal you are going to sign in, and it leaves you in abject disbelief and self-shame at the end.
2. Do not try to copy if you don’t know how to paste. And how many of us today do that????? This has become a trend. There is so much as plagiarism as copyright. It’s so easy to actually open the fridge and eat up the washed apple than to go to market, look for it, bargain, buy, and clean to put it in fridge. It wastes no time and it tastes same. But there is a sense of pride in coming up with something of our own. It gives so much a self-confidence and delight. You are actually glad and fulfilled. But if you end up with someone’s tea in your cup, and you are asked about the ingredients and the procedure, the tea that tasted sweet would soon be wished as a sour when it actually puts you up in confusion and dumbness. One should give a thought before he denies of reinventing the wheel.
3. Nothing is granted. Everything has its own price. One need not even take luck as granted. It doesn’t come always without any price. We trust so much in fluke at times. Of course we land up sometimes in such circumstances where we can’t do anything than to trust for something to come out and clear the situation. And it does happen sometime, but not always.

Photo courtesy: http://image.shutterstock.com

Friendship through Culture: ICCR

It’s my fourth year and every time I know that there is this ICCR dance and song festival held in Delhi. I knew that it is a festival aimed at bringing together the foreign students studying in Delhi together. But my tight schedule of submissions or sometimes due to sheer lethargy, I couldn’t make for until last weekend and yeah the reason was not that I wanted to go and sit there to see the foreigners dancing and singing but was there because some beautiful girls from Bhutan were performing. And I knew one of the five girls who danced at the tune of Nge semkha Shawei Metog Choe.
It was a chilly early winter evening. Students from all over the universities of Delhi has gathered on the empty lawn. The stage was set up. It read: Indian Council for Cultural Relations, International Student’s Festival 2010, “Friendship through Culture” People started filling up the empty chairs. I was sitting at the back row with my friends from my college. We had of course so many works to complete as it was my pre-final submission of Housing design on the following week.
The programme commenced with the speech from a president of the ICCR.  The item list consisted of dances and songs from eighteen countries. I have never had opportunities to be a part of such global society other than Facebook. It began with a joyous welcome dance and Emcee ushered in the group of students from Poland, Mexico, Tajikistan, Russia and Uzbekistan. Then there were this Indonesian boys and girls. They literally appeared so much into their cultures judging through their attires. And of course the guitars, drum, dancers, and the singer. I couldn’t make out what was the whole dance about. There was less dance and more singing by a one man in the mass. But the next item was of course something that I will never forget. I would admit that there is no need of understanding language if u like music. Those three girls from Tajikistan danced beautifully to the melodious tune. It was written on the item list that their dance was about the expression of love and separation. There was a section of boys at the corner among the audience. They danced along with excitement and fun. I never had a doubt that they also didn’t understand the lyrics but the tune and music, and ofcourse three beautiful girls made it worth dancing along and getting involved spiritually. We all literally were containing the moment.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

I am an architecture student

I am in 4th year, doing architecture. Of all good courses available on earth, I chose to study architecture. No, it was not that I knew about it, but it was because I felt it was great among other choices. And now I am here living the constant pressure of being an architecture student. Day and night, there’s little left for me to understand the time through which other people on earth live by. My time has totally become f**ked up. It’s screwed. And I am a clown. World is out there waiting for me to perform and appease their long for the show. The piece out of me is getting drained every night and day. Never thought it will be so strenuous to actually do architecture. It kills, and but sometimes thrills, though.
A 3D projection of an 8-cell performing a doub...Image via Wikipedia

When everyone on earth sleeps, perhaps in architecture college, the people begin their work- the works that they don’t have any idea when it will finish. Night time and the time have just begun. There are no direct answers. It has to come out from the inner side of the students. Sometimes a fluke bluffing does wonder. But it goes on and on. Sun rises and I am still awake trying to hold the model which I have been constructing throughout the night. I had more empty coffee cups at my doorsteps. My room is messed up. There are all pieces of papers, and glues thrown everywhere. I don’t have any idea when I changed my playlist for the last time. Eyes have its eye lids darkened. And there is a plot which I need to take out before I make myself in front of my faculties. Oh there, yeah-FACULTIES!!!! One group of people who make you do architecture hell lot than you can ever imagine. They take a shit out of you. Of course, architecture is learnt through doing it, but then critiquing is what everyone is perfect at in architecture.And I believe its through critiqing one learn to become a better architect. You can bet that its worth getting to understand one’s flaw in design and at the same time one is fed with new ideas of others. But then among ourselves by ourselves, I am more familiar with words like “...getting f**ked by that faculty by not completing the submission....” ”oh here! He comes to screw us....” ”come on ass***e, you had enough of our ass” “...do something sexy” We get marked, and having worked whole night to complete the submission, I hardly get good marks enough for me to pass the submission.
People roam in campus with toothpaste in bag. They don’t realise when they took the last shower. And all that they care is when is the next damn class which starts from morning 8.30 and ends around 5.00 pm with a break at 1.pm for lunch. Some courses take very less hours like two hours a day. And we get astonished to even think that we have only two subjects a day but we need to study those whole days. Googling has become so important part of the course. Endless research, endless re-dos of the submission, and endless frustration over not being able to convince faculties of the quality of the work I submit, I am perfectly under the heavy burden of architecture. Architecture...architecture....architecture....it comes out of nowhere, and we are made to see architecture in everything we see. “What is your Big Idea about the House design?” “Where is the concept of your Office Building Design?” “The Scheme that you Propose for Housing Design is not working” “This is the outdated Detail and the Scale that you drew up in doesn’t show any good view of Materials”. I wish I can do hell with these things. That I can do hell with concepts, ideas, thinking beyond boxes, materials, dimensions, and lot more things. But then you can only wish that if you are not doing architecture. And deep inside i was doing architecture to become an architect.
Weekends are also most of the time occupied with works. Except for Friday nights where we sleep till the next midday, we don’t get a better sleep. And having worked whole Sunday night without sleeping, we sleep in a day in canteen, library, or anywhere in open lawn while faculties mark our works. It’s the pressure sometimes that most of the students don’t get full submission either due to late completion or because of plotter. Computer getting crashed is another curse of being architecture student. Working so hard, and finally before taking print outs, something wrong in the world happens with your computer. You are doomed---all that F**ked, Screwed, Busted ..comes along swiftly throughout the day.
At every speech from any species known to us as an architect or would be architect, there is always a talk about drawings being tool to express one’s idea. And the drawing would mean that it includes so many other stuffs; perfect philosophy behind the form, and shape, a new big innovative idea behind the design, sustainability of materials, line thickness and dimensions, and the flawless anthropometrics. There we are in the presentation. The slides which of course are directly transported from Wikipedia and of course mugged up whole night are now in front of the whole bunch of curious people who wants to ask many questions. Some know answers, yet they ask questions. More people act like they know about it. We are taught to present with confidence and behave in the class with confidence. It’s the worst part. People actually screw each other.
Money is another one-dimensional usage. It all goes into plotter shop. The bunch of sheets would mean that we pay about few hundred bucks every time we take print out. And we take out prints so many times in a week. Final submissions would mean that you need more money than you required for two months or more. The sheets should be bought not only for plots, but also for making models. And making model costs more money than anything.
No wonder people end up with words like Archinnovative, archidesign, AND ARCHITORTURE.
But then architecture is one perfect course which would certainly make you the man out there who can perform and who can actually perform consistently to the perfection of the need of the circumstances. Architects get trained as creative individuals. We are taught to live by reasons and logic. And architecture continues to flow. It is endless.
Architecture would mean creating new things which i could stand beside by and say the world, i didn't mind the whole pressure and toiling i had had through in college, but now i am here with NEXT SEXY THING!
Photo courtesy: http://architexe.design.officelive.com

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Oskar Schindler;the Nazi who bought Jews during WW II

That was great. That was simply touching. That was self sacrifice there. That was letting your dream of much hard work go down into the drain. That was something that turned out that way though it never meant to be there from where they headed to. And that was humane. And that was Oskar Schindler unlike many other Nazis who kissed a Jewish girl not with hatred and brutality but with love for the humans.
Sometimes god comes in a form of a person. Various times whenever, the humanity was suppressed to such an abject state, there was someone who fought to keep the line of humanity alive. There was someone who toiled hard to fight injustice and save the world. There was someone who showed the world that despair the earth, the warmth of soil never gets cold enough to destroy the creation. Someone somewhere makes up to keep the flame burning. 
Oskar Schindler, the man who worked for Nazi during World War II would have had more Jews saved than anyone in the world. He starts his factory which makes pots in Krakow (that’s in Poland now) upon a bankrupt and worn-down factory shell. The German armies made the utter bloodshed of thousands of Jews in German Camps in most of the Europe. Jews were born Jews, and that meant they are the enemies of Adolf Hitler. When Jews were burnt alive, and killed at any point during the war time, the ambitious and a womaniser businessman hoping for the advantage that would be there due to war, recruits Jews to work in his factory. He bribes Nazi officers for the every Jew he recruits. The man who came to make money at the expense of a war soon finds himself at the talk of every Jew working in his factory. They thank him for the fact that they don’t get killed simply because they work in his factory. They are not exposed at the mercy of German SS officers outside. Jews believed that an hour life is still a life.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Who's problem is youth problem?

Who are the real goons who go on plundering the beauty of society? Who are those victimised at the mercy of unnecessary repercussions due to certain robbery, gang fights and rape? Are we living in the prison we built as a house to put our lives and vowed to thrive but sadly living the exaggerated pain, fear and adversity due to the human affair in our so called – our own society? What has happened to the source of pristine beauty of nature where men performed the perfect harmony of inner conscience and call of duty which ultimately made a place worthy of humanly happiness and pleasure? No one dares to ask, everyone has been enveloped either into the thick dirt of keeping things to be placed in system by someone or we are all drenched into the fear of after-effect reactions.
We say our country, being triggered towards the achievement of GNH. And on the other hand, we have gangsters born out of certain problems in the society. A man gets robed today and tomorrow to protect himself he forms another circle which by no reason has any other reason to grow up but out of the same circle he formed, the show goes on to create the invisible fear among the ones who are around. There is no GNH in manufacturing gangsters. There is no GNH in producing so many unemployed youth every year let alone be ones who resort to drugs and unhealthy activities. There is no GNH in making human affair so fearsome and so unsafe. There is no peace at all. All human wants to be peaceful. Everyone wants to be happy. Nobody wants to become a gangster.
It was sad, and a touching story about  Kencho who was earlier known as the leader of so-called gang MB Boys.  Life has been unfair with him. I am not writing on behalf of him here, by the way. I believe there are many like Kencho in our society who begin with small fights out of frustration, out of desperation, out of family problems and so many more reasons, and finally end up being one of the gang members. (Well i presume i may be incorrect here to sight down such issues as their reasons behind indulging in such human affairs). Humans are generally instinctive in protecting themselves. Its like a natural system in us to act to defend oneself. If he began to protect himself from the group who went on to rob by-passers in Thimphu, then it must be so with other youths as well. Today there are more youths and youth related problems around the world. And finally, its always sad and un-wishful to see our youths becoming a prey to unhealthy human affairs. There is nothing good in living a life which has become a threat to others life.