Of the People, By the People and For the People!!

29/12/12

Even the pen is shivering while I am scribbling this. HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN IN INDIA?? ?

India – A country with its citizen having high Moral values and Strong Religious believes.

A country where all school kids pledge, “All Indians are my brothers and sisters.” All of us talk have been talking about India Shining since a good long duration now. We have all good modern facilities in our prime cities at least.  Sky scrapers and Metro rails are up and running. World class medical, technical and B- Schools are flourishing here. We have successfully hosted the last edition of common wealth games and we even have an F-1 circuit now a days.

I wonder in a state of shock, what would have gone wrong with the brains of 6 men (Adults and not even mentally retarded) that led them to raping a 23 year old girl?

Aren’t   we known as the largest democracy on the planet?

Yes, Nirbhaya ( Fictious name imparted in honor of the courage she had) was brutally rape by 6 bastards in a bus which kept on wandering around the posh localities of our very own capital city- New Delhi.  When their penises were satisfied / tired, it was a rusty iron rod’s turn to penetrate the vagina. Oh God!

She fought bravely against all odds with commendable optimism and grace but after 13 long days her soul has departed leaving behind many questions still unanswered as –

Who will take care of her family?

Who will give justice to the Nirbhaya’s fearless soul by hanging the 6 bastards till death and by when? Because justice delayed is justice denied.

And Who will take care of all the other women’s security dwelling in this glowing , blooming, blossoming and SHINING INDIA?

-          Our Leaders claim, India will be a developed nation by 2020.

Dear Leaders,

Kindly accept my sincere apologies but I don’t want to be called as a citizen of a developed nation where our women cannot live and roam around freely without having a fear of eve-teasing, hooliganism or being RAPED.

Sincerely,

Citizen

AND I AM AN ENGINEER!!!

Every year more than 700 students get into BVP engg college but how many get lucky enough to be called as engineers after being blessed with a Certificate is a big question. I personally got it after 4+1 long but immensely enjoyable years. Yes, the ceremony of 'degree distribution' is officially known as CONVOCATION. It is the time when passouts can relive their college days with the same friends in the same pavements, podium, GS corner, eatouts ( a few being Richie Rich, keshav and raju ki tapri), parties and the  premises. I reached early to the library building but was really surprised to see many more enthusiasts already in the que to get their maroon gown and avoid that BABY PINK one. Post getting my maroon one and wearing it after decoding the way 2 wear it, there were camera flashes all over. Many chaps and chics came hugged, got clicked and kept moving. Groups were becoming larger and larger. Everyone had a grin and a satisfaction about finally becoming what they dreamt off or were forced to a few years back. All old familiar faces and comments like 'abe tu aur mota ho gaya', 'aur koi ni ladki pati', 'raat ka kya scene hai?' And many more. Then we moved towards the pendol in the ground, friends kept on joining and the cameras kept on clicking. Everyone was enjoying themselves to the fullest. The caps flew high and the voices rose in amplitude. After returning back the gown we got the proof of our success. I was nostalgic when I realised the fact that I was probably meeting some of my pals for the last time.
To end this report nothing can be better than the lines -- woh kaisi subah thi khushiyon ka tha safar, sab yaar sang the koi thi na fikar..

Cheers

Better follow ONION

27^th Aug 2011 , 12 PM to 1 PM – 36000 feet above sea level.

Here I am, on board flight to Mumbai. Thanks to Parker Hannifin Corporation for giving me an opportunity to tour across 3 prime cities of India.

Travelling across – The first destination was Chennai – capital of Tamil Nadu. There I couldn’t find anyone in a state of peace (be it mental or physical). Everyone was chasing some or the other task. The rush on the roads resembled to something what would have happened in Jallianwala bagh some decades back. No one spoke Hindi (The national language). The skin color was a few shades darker. The religious beliefs were different and so was the way of worshipping. Having a conservative mind was still an “in thing” there as locating females after dusk was quite difficult. The food looked and tasted differently. Every dish had a flavor of coconut, tamarind and “It.” With enormous memories (sweet, sour & some with a tinge of “It”), I left for Hyderabad.

Hyderabad – The deccan capital of India. The roads were clean and wide – sufficient to make you fall in love with Hyderabad. No one was in a rush. Almost everyone conversed in Hindi pretty well though the local language was Telugu. The “conservative mind psychology” dropped to a decent level as I could see girls wearing trendy outfits. The newspaper with the maximum circulation was – The Deccan Herald whereas in Chennai it was “The Hindu.” The staple food was a thicker version of rice. The amount of spices and masala was increased to an extent that eyes and nose started running as soon as I had my 1^st bite. But from sambhar to biryani, “Its” presence could be easily felt.

The concluding destination was The National Capital- dilwalon ka sheher – Dilli. Delhi can be easily crowned as “the liveliest city of India.” The airport was insanely huge that it seemed to be a city in itself. The roads were clean-broad and as smooth as a mink quilt. I could hear the vibrant Hindi from all directions. An immense increment in the no. of Gurudwaras could be easily noticed whereas in Hyderabad the number of Mosques was dominant. Sikhs were easily seen and Punjabi could be heared loud and clear. The conservativeness was dropped down drastically as the length of denims was cut short to hot pants.

Core apologies to Shri Anna Hazare (Who is on a hunger strike for the noble cause of eradicating corruption) but Delhi is famous for its cuisine which primarily comprises of paneer, butter, chicken, a thinner version of rice than that found in southern India. Being in Delhi you can’t afford to miss Paranthe  and chaat (I think I should stop now because this list can encircle the globe at least once) .

Throughout the tour I tasted n varieties of food, “It” was everywhere – standing proudly with a pumped up chest. While on my way back I realized that, “we might be divided by RELIGION but will always be united by ONION (It).”

NOTE—THE ABOVE CONTENT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYONE IN PERSON. SO, PLEASE SMILE AFTER READING AND SAVE THIS DOC IF YOU LIKE IT. CHEERSSS

"A"- Certified

In India anyone who crosses 18 years of age is considered to be an ADULT. Which means:-

• · Most of you have passed class 12^th.
• · You are authorized to vote
• · Girls are eligible to tie knot.
• · You are certified to watch movies with “A” certification.

More or less this age brings so many responsibilities along. You have to face thunderous taunts suggesting to – “stand on your own feet”. But apart acquiring the above mentioned things, the newly certified A’s will loose a few things too.

• · They will never-ever be excited for 1^st of July, which used to be the school re-opening day.
• · These adults will never wait for their school bus (mostly yellow in color with an identification number).
• · No excuses of stomach ache or loose motions or headache or viral fever or cough and cold or etc can be made in order to bunk school just o escape the punishments for incomplete homework.
• · Now having cell phones , they will never have an opportunity to roam restlessly near the landline connection and the pre-decided time when their respective He/She friends were supposed to call.
• · There will be nothing called as “parents-teachers meet”, usually scheduled on the second Saturday.
• · There will be no 100 pages wali test copies, which in my case contained the most no. of fake parental signatures than any other document.
• · There’s no compulsion of calling your parents in order to get final exam report card.
• · They will never-ever get a new “pupil’s diary” which they used to get every year.
• · There will never be n-no. of new pinches for new bag , new pair of shoes, new uniform on July-1.
• · There will be no one to check your over grown nails, unpolished shoes or shabby hairstyle.
• · No kindergarten kids will be seen in the school bus with a flower which they brought for their teachers.
• · No punishment of human being transformed to a cock will be given.
• · There will be no ties with unbuttoned color usually witnessed after standard-9.
• · There will be no girls wearing skirts whose length varied inversely with there age.
• · And lastly your eyes will never glitter in excitement to search for games period in the schedule and no hi-fi’s will be exchanged if you found two of them in a row.

Dedicated to all my school friends and foes who made the journey till 18 so memorable and amazing.

UNWIPED TEARS

Saavitri…Saavitri….Saavitri..!

It was a clear Sunday dawn when the sound travelled across the labyrinth lanes of Kushaal Puri. Kushaal Puri was an unauthorized settlement of proletarian class from Orissa in Bhopal. Shiv Shambhu Das was screaming his elder daughter’s name as he was in severe need of medical attention. He was a drunkard and the only earning member of the family of four till 3 days ago. But now he was on bed rest as the alcohol which he used to drink, had drunk all the bile juice which is secreted in lever. In simple words, “his lever was completely destroyed by the drink”.

Within a month, the two teenage daughters- Saavitri and Kusum had to drop their schools so as to take their father’s care. Shambhu’s wife had to take responsibility of earning money and for that she started working as a maid. Days passed and the expenses on medicine kept on increasing with a rapid rate whereas Shambhu’s condition kept on deteriorating. One day he died all of a sudden when he fell from the stair-case.

Time stood still and the in-grief wife- Ramaa, had to take monetary help from her neighbour for her husband’s final proceedings. Few days passed, the tears were wiped off but the eyes were drooping still and the heart was still weeping.

Now the whole responsibility of family was on widow’s shoulders. Saavitri in order to help her mother started working in a near-by tailor’s shop and took a firm decision to let Kusum continue with her studies.

But…before conditions could turn normal again, Kusum met with a road accident on her way back home from school. The ruthless neighbour asked to repay her money with interest, meanwhile Kusum was taken to a nearby Govt. hospital where she was declared dead.

Sorrows struck the family again…

Doctors after examining the dead body and analyzing the family’s condition suggested Ramaa to donate Kusum’s body to medical college for which she will be paid by the Govt. Mother broke into tears and the answer was a ‘NO’ straight away.

Ruthless neighbour asked again, doctors kept on suggesting for the same and the answer was a sorrowful ‘YES’ this time. Kusum’s soul was departed and the body was donated. All except the two ladies were happy i.e. neighbour, doctors and the medical students who got a new body to dissect.

Ramaa with her only daughter left reached their home with swollen eyes, heavy heart and broken dreams to see Kusum as an engineer.

Looking at the penurious condition of the family, Saavitri stood up all of a sudden and ran through the lanes of Kushaal Puri to reach the doctor and asked with a heavy voice, “Sir, can I get back the clothes which my sister is wearing..??”

Acknowledgement to 1st issue of "Prodyogiki"

` ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

As we all know, this is the 1st issue of “PRODYOGIKI”. This magazine is for the students , of the students and by the students. This is an attempt to improve the interaction between students and teachers of production department. This will surely help students to explore the creativity within themselves.

On this issue , firstly I want to thank Hon. HOD R.N. Patil sir , Chairman of PESA for supporting us to take this initiative. My sincere thanks to Mr. S.S. Chavan , Staff Co-ordinatorwho stood by us in all the problems faced till launch of the magazine.I also want to thank all the teachers for co-operating with us and providing us their valuable factual inputs about the department.

I also want to thank all the students for showing their keen interest. Especially, I want to thank Manish who helped in clicking and collecting the photographs included in this issue. I also want to thank Palash , Shashank and Rachit who took especial efforts to learn coral draw and designing PRODYOGIKI from top to bottom .

A very special thanks to the “editorial board” who took all the efforts and worked round the clock to make this magazine a success.

A hearty thanks to the most co-operative non-teaching staff of the

college.

Special thanks to Arnav Chaudhary , a friend from comp. science dept. who helped PRODYOGIKI to reach this level of elegancy.

Lastly , I request the upcoming batches to work smartly and show

active participation in extra – curricular activities . I sign off with a

hope to see a better “PRODYOGIKI” in the coming years .

Abhimanyu Sharma

(On behalf of editorial board)

magazine was released on - 30/04/2010

standing out

STANDING OUT

A tribute to all my friends who are converted from "Bachelors of Engineering" to "Bachelors of Technology" in BVDUCOE , Pune.

Semester exams are over, Sem-break is enjoyed and new semester has started with full enthusiasm in the students. A month past minds are struck with a ferocious thought of result.

Rumours about the date of declaration of result are spread all over the campus.

One day all of a sudden, a teacher enters the class room with sealed envelope to distribute the much awaited result among the students. But only a few luckier students get the result while others have to leave the room with a sad expression on the canvas of their face. Who are these students???!!

The answer is – they are those “Pillars of success” (Failures) who have got 1 or more year back. No doubt they are very well accepted by the students of regular batch and by the college too but in every six months (at the time of result) they are reminded of their failure.

Every day they come to college with a similar hope as they had the preceding day but they get

there performance card after a few more restless days.

I question -:

* Why they do not get the result on time?

* Why they have to face those extra restless days when they also give the exams with those who get it on time?

* Why they have to still “stand out” when they have mingled well with their new colleagues ????