If you gonna expect an exciting day in the life of a hi-profile IT engineer in Bangalore, you are mistaken. Coz this post cannot go into such details, as the author has not experienced any of the prolific lifestyle, though herself being a software engineer in the so called Silicon City of India.
The minute you wake up, before you even have the customary bed tea, a style borrowed from the West, one begins dreading the hours one may have to spend commuting to the IT world. Yes, the world famous Hosur Road which is known more for it's traffic jams than it's bridge to the electronic world of information technology- The Electronic City which houses some of the biggest names of the industry.
As a first timer( read fresher) begins the journey into the unknown, you are not only oblivious of the amount of time it may take you to reach your destination but also of the ardous journey that lies ahead. With bumps and sleeping comrades, the bus crawls past similar looking boxes on wheels around. You look around you only to find the same faces staring back at you as if you were looking in a mirror which projects expressions. The only consolation you may have are the plugs in your ears which croons Basanti and Darius' voices as if they were some distants Gods warning you of the impending disasters ahead through Jam Busters.
But slowly, after lots of shakes and pauses, you begin to see greenery which is an indication that you are closing onto civilization, when you are given a final jolt. A long snake like queue of wheels at the entrance of EC. But by then, you feel I've gone through so much, a little more won't do any harm. So all you do is make faces and stupid expressions and keep shifting in your seats as your back hurts like hell.
Then it's YAHOO!!!! I've made it. I've reached into the IT dungeon and what more in one piece. Broken but not bent. You trudge along to your seats, your new boxes, though these ones thankfully not on wheels.
As the day ends, you now have to go through all of it again, but now in the reverse direction to get to the comforts of your home. But all the best!!! We'll make it one day.
Some day the Guiness Book of World Records may enter our name in it's books for reaching the Electronics City traversing through Hosur Road without a single traffic jam, in say 10 minutes. A distant dream but where there's hope, there's a way and there's a will.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Laxmi Sawant
“Men in shining armour
What gallant knights behold
It's only the common people
Whose stories go untold."
I always believed that heroes existed only in fairy tales and movies where they saved young princesses and helped old ladies. But when I met Laxmi Sawant on the first day of high school I knew she held a secret of her own.
The first few days of high school were pure fun. Getting to know so many new young people of my own age who have so many wonderful things to share was a real delight. I had so much in common with my new friends-Succorin Fernandes and Sonia Kenkre. We enjoyed cricket and liked reading mysteries. Though I used to hang around with my group, I often observed Laxmi who was quiet and reserved. In the company of noisy and fun loving friends, she was very conspicuous with her quiet manners. I noticed, though she came to the canteen she never would buy anything but rather ate her own tiffin which always was one roti (Indian bread) and pickle.
After a few months she didn’t come to school for a week and I began to wonder whether she has fallen ill. So along with my friend Succorin, I paid her a visit. I was surprised to find that the address given by the teacher led us to the poorest parts of the city. As we walked along, we noticed the lanes getting narrower and garbage heaps lying on either sides of the road. There was a bad stink emanating, flies and mosquitoes hovered about and little children were playing with dead frogs and lizards. The sight was really nauseating.
When we entered Laxmi’s house we realized how privileged we were to live in clean houses with all sorts of comfort. The house had just one room. The walls were dirty and paint was peeling from them. The only furniture was a wooden table and a cot. On the cot lay an old woman who was continuously coughing and Laxmi was feeding her. When Laxmi saw us she stood gaping for a moment. When we explained why we had come her eyes glistened with tears. She said we were the first people to have shown some concern for her.
When we sat down on the mat she laid, I asked her the reason for her absence in school and why she was so quiet and reserved. As she told her story, we were deeply moved.
Laxmi was the only daughter of a potter. Her mother died as soon as she gave birth to Laxmi. Her father therefore disliked her and blamed her for his beloved wife’s death. He also thought Laxmi would drain off his meager income in dowry at the time of marriage So he kept her at his mother’s place who was suffering from asthma. When Laxmi was five, her father remarried. Thus the occasional visits he used to pay her also stopped. Laxmi studied at the municipal school where the education was free. But one day, the teacher misbehaved with her, so she stopped going for classes and completed her primary education learning from her friends’ books. She did not want to join high school because she was afraid of the teachers, yet she had to do so since she wanted to become a social worker and help clean the roads and improve the living conditions of people around her. She entered the Learner’s competition and won a scholarship. She couldn’t come to school for a week because her grandmother was sick and she had to look after her.
As I walked home that day, my thoughts drifted towards Laxmi. Though poor and young, she had enrolled herself in high school with determination and will power. She had the courage to face all the challenges that came her way. She didn’t let her surroundings deter her from her goals. Yet she wanted to change her surroundings and give people the chance to live a better life. She was truly a hero. Though not like the ones I had read about in fairy tales but surely a real one.
What gallant knights behold
It's only the common people
Whose stories go untold."
I always believed that heroes existed only in fairy tales and movies where they saved young princesses and helped old ladies. But when I met Laxmi Sawant on the first day of high school I knew she held a secret of her own.
The first few days of high school were pure fun. Getting to know so many new young people of my own age who have so many wonderful things to share was a real delight. I had so much in common with my new friends-Succorin Fernandes and Sonia Kenkre. We enjoyed cricket and liked reading mysteries. Though I used to hang around with my group, I often observed Laxmi who was quiet and reserved. In the company of noisy and fun loving friends, she was very conspicuous with her quiet manners. I noticed, though she came to the canteen she never would buy anything but rather ate her own tiffin which always was one roti (Indian bread) and pickle.
After a few months she didn’t come to school for a week and I began to wonder whether she has fallen ill. So along with my friend Succorin, I paid her a visit. I was surprised to find that the address given by the teacher led us to the poorest parts of the city. As we walked along, we noticed the lanes getting narrower and garbage heaps lying on either sides of the road. There was a bad stink emanating, flies and mosquitoes hovered about and little children were playing with dead frogs and lizards. The sight was really nauseating.
When we entered Laxmi’s house we realized how privileged we were to live in clean houses with all sorts of comfort. The house had just one room. The walls were dirty and paint was peeling from them. The only furniture was a wooden table and a cot. On the cot lay an old woman who was continuously coughing and Laxmi was feeding her. When Laxmi saw us she stood gaping for a moment. When we explained why we had come her eyes glistened with tears. She said we were the first people to have shown some concern for her.
When we sat down on the mat she laid, I asked her the reason for her absence in school and why she was so quiet and reserved. As she told her story, we were deeply moved.
Laxmi was the only daughter of a potter. Her mother died as soon as she gave birth to Laxmi. Her father therefore disliked her and blamed her for his beloved wife’s death. He also thought Laxmi would drain off his meager income in dowry at the time of marriage So he kept her at his mother’s place who was suffering from asthma. When Laxmi was five, her father remarried. Thus the occasional visits he used to pay her also stopped. Laxmi studied at the municipal school where the education was free. But one day, the teacher misbehaved with her, so she stopped going for classes and completed her primary education learning from her friends’ books. She did not want to join high school because she was afraid of the teachers, yet she had to do so since she wanted to become a social worker and help clean the roads and improve the living conditions of people around her. She entered the Learner’s competition and won a scholarship. She couldn’t come to school for a week because her grandmother was sick and she had to look after her.
As I walked home that day, my thoughts drifted towards Laxmi. Though poor and young, she had enrolled herself in high school with determination and will power. She had the courage to face all the challenges that came her way. She didn’t let her surroundings deter her from her goals. Yet she wanted to change her surroundings and give people the chance to live a better life. She was truly a hero. Though not like the ones I had read about in fairy tales but surely a real one.
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