Setu's Blog

It's been days since I've been watching, hearing and reading about this horrendous incident that took place in New Delhi, our beloved (yes, pun intended) capital, sometime last week. Honestly, I don't care about when, where, what, why etc. details of the same. I'd rather leave that on those news channels to judge, who make me believe that there's nothing else happening in the whole country except this mad, senseless struggle which is trying to hold the whole country at a ransom. The ransom being, the death of the rapist. Before you jump to any conclusions about the incredibly absurd and probably hurtful, even, statements that I just made, take a few deep breaths and read on. The Beginning I have been watching the TV series Rome these past couple of days. It's a biopic (as far as I know) about the ancient Rome and its fall as an empire. Although, the details of the series are irrelevant here, there's one thing that I noticed there, that started with or

As those who regularly read my blogposts would know, I don't hesitate to express my displeasure over my experiences with corporate firms. It's simple, they sucked, and they have to face my written wrath. In the recent past, I've been subjected to more frequent and more disgusted forms of torture from such companies, which made me ask myself, am I not the customer? And, isn't the customer the king? It's with utmost sadness that I inform you that through my experiences, I have been enlightened enough to inform you that a customer, a consumer, was the king. He isn't anymore. (And no, the customer isn't the queen anymore. Stop trolling.) It's one of the saddest realizations for someone who has always believed that companies actually care about their customers. I am also the one who pretended to smug when everytime I was told, 'Make a company so big, that you have call centers answer for you.' For good or bad, now, that's a thing of the pas

(Author's note: You may skip to the conclusion if you don't want to read the torture I went through while submitting my passport renewal application at the PSK. Seriously. I wouldn't mind. I needed to vent it out, and thus this. Although, if you read it, you'd know my plight and know what to expect if you happen to go sometime soon.) Day: Friday, 12th October, 2012. Task: Go to the Passport Seva Kendra (henceforth, PSK) Malad, and complete the submission of the application and documents for the renewal of passport. And this, was an experience of a lifetime. An experience I will tell my grand-children about how things were in the India I lived in. Yes, I surely will. Before them, it's time for you to read about it. Let's rollback a little... When dad realized that my passport was going to expire soon, he asked me to get done with the renewal of the same as soon as possible. I realized that it should be a pretty easy job, since all I remembered of the

Disclaimer: These are solely the author's opinions. I request you to read this with an open mind. And I can assure you that I'm not a worker of, or paid under-the-table by any political party to write this post, trust me. I'm not proud of being an Indian. I'm extremely proud. But, of one of the many things that prick me, on a daily basis, is how the game of politics influences the Indian's life, on a daily basis. I write this post in a situation where there are high chances of the Government falling. With the coalgate scam reports all over the media and opposition parties disrupting the parliamentary sessions on a daily basis, the Government dropped the diesel price hike bomb on the people of the country 3 days back, followed by approving the 51% and 49% FDI in multi-brand retail and aviation sectors respectively, the day after. By explaining my point of view on these 3 topics, I'd like to show you how influenced our daily opinions are to the politicians

I can't explain my lack of ability to write anything in more than 3 months. But, I can say that me blaming it on the unavailability of my laptop, or my studies, was just an excuse. You wake up one fine day, and realize that it has all fallen apart. Everything that could've possibly gone wrong, has. And then, by the end of the day, you're shocked to see that it could've and did get worse. But, it just does happen that way. More often than not. It's tough to come to terms with what happens to you. Even tougher to act as if it's just a passing phase and things will be fine. Being in a similar situation in the last few months, gave me a chance to assess myself and what I've been going through. There's just one word to express it: fear. We struggle. Everyday, in everything, all the time. And in all that, the only thing that holds us back, is fear. We begin faltering at simple things, and the devil miniature hovering behind

It has been almost 3 months since my last post. And a lot has happened since. But today, I write this post for a reason. Because today, it’s my turn. I came across this initiative (by someone who I don’t know personally) called Your Turn Now (referred to as YTN hereon) less than 3 hours ago, and here I am, writing a post promoting the same. Each and everyday, we come across hundreds of people, have conversations with may be a fifty, and are thankful to almost a dozen. Similarly, there are many who are thankful to us, for something or the other, day in and day out. What do we do to them, except say a ‘Thank you’? How do we express the gratitude in our hearts? The gratitude is the goodwill we have. The goodwill someone else has for our actions. And YTN is an effort to spread that goodwill. You don’t have to pay a penny. You just have to spread smiles, and these cards. What cards, you ask? This is a 2-sided, visiting card style card which you pass on to someone who

In the last year and a half, I've come to watch more television series and sitcoms than I have in my whole past life. Most of them, make me laugh and are pure fiction. Some have a relation to the daily life of ours. This blogpost is inspired from one such medical drama, Grey's Anatomy . For those who are unaware of the series, it exists inside a hospital. The daily in-and-outs of interns, residents, doctors, nurses and of course, patients. It's a typical drama that gets you hooked to it making it difficult for you to not watch it. And, trust me, it's pretty good too. Coming to the point. There's this doctor in the show who is a neonatal surgeon/obstetrician gynaecologist. In plain English, she's a surgeon who operates on children, when they're newborns, for defects, and/or mothers who have complications during the birth. In various episodes, they've shown cases of patients whose children have various complications during births and the urgency wit

Disclaimer: This post is about adolescents. Others, don't judge us. The phase of being in your teens, in this 21st century, is not easy. I repeat, not easy. With being surrounded by a whole lot of things, and having to balance yourself with each one of them, you tend to screw yourself up. Well, almost... In the whole ball-game, life begins to feel pretty messed up. A few things, if not all, go haywire, hit bottoms. Relationships seem to be dwindling quick. Friends fade out and new friends replace them. Acquaintances, the term, finally surfaces. And all through, you are just trying to figure out who you are and why do some of your close pals say 'You were different'. Most of this, happens when you go to a new college, a new city, or both. Most of this, happens because we feel compelled to be like those we are around. Seniors, classmates, roommates, batchmates. In that whole phase, we seem to forget who we actually were and tend to become someone we never have bee

In the last few weeks, I've posted 2 posts on Education & India ( Part 1 & Part 2 ). There, I had said that I'd be posting a version of the draft I had created of the above titled post, a few years ago. It was 28th or 29th April, 2009 when, in a seminar, in a group of 10, we were told to come up with a plan and layout of our dream school. We made a rough version of what is posted below. On coming back from the seminar, in the few days that followed, I realized the importance of that project and how much it meant to me. For the same, I completed what I had started as a competition, in the seminar and the outcome is as below. My Dream School In India, and for that matter all the world over, schools are also known as the ‘Temples of Knowledge’. But, in India, temples are built after consulting architects but not the schools. Thus, today, I decided to give my dream school a real pictorial representation with the necessary documentation. My dream school is